((OoC: First off, I do things a bit different than what many of you may be used to, so let's lay down some ground rules.

1: No baby-butthurts. We're here to have fun, and if you aren't having fun it's time to leave
2: No killing off other's characters. Killing off most NPCs is okay, but as a rule of thumb, do NOT kill off anyone that has a name.
3: There are no rules.

Wait, no rules? Yeah you read that right. This is just a fun and laid back game where you can do anything you can imagine, as long as you can explain why something like that would ever happen. And since it is so laid back, you can join in at any time, on page one, on page 2000, I don't care. You don't even need to ask permission. Just do us all a favor at make your way into the game naturally. For instance, if there is a huge battle going on, don't just suddenly show up and start talking to the other characters. They will be busy.

Also remember, this is an established universe--but a universe established in the fact that any crazy and zany thing can and will happen. But please have respect to the fact that there are some locations and characters that have already been established. If you find yourself writing for them, try to keep in line with what others have posted about those locations and personae.

So let's get on to the setting, eh?

---

Goal: A silly romp through the solar system with the McQuarrie crew. Sort of Futurama meets Star Trek. More science than Futurama, with less stupidity, without all of the over-the-top operatic features of Star Trek. (Or maybe more?)

What is McQuarrie?
Venus Orbital Station McQuarrie is a powerful, self-sufficient space station operating independently of other powers in the solar system. Originally a mining colony, the station evolved over the years and has become a place for people to live free of the political disputes and ethnic rivalry of Old Earth. McQuarrie's scope has changed, to create a better life for humanity. To that end, McQuarrie has dedicated itself to a peacekeeping mission, and will help any that ask.

How did McQuarrie come to exist?
It was created many years ago by Argus Swift and has grown since. He wanted only a mining colony that he owned for himself. There have been several different versions of McQuarrie as technology evolved. The first station was little more than an orbital ore processing factory with small beds. Currently the fifth version of the McQuarrie is in use, after the fourth was destroyed when a very drunk robot was destroyed by an immortal.

Argus Swift : Who is he?

Argus "Swiftman" Swift is creator of Venus Orbital Station "McQuarrie". After accumulating a vast wealth through a very successful career in writing, Argus Swift used his monetary collections to build, move and construct Venus Orbital Station McQuarrie. He also used the leftover funds to found his company Swift Co., an interplanetary mining corporation. From this he has built up a huge space station, with many people working for him and many mechanisms built by his command.

Lazlo Falconi : Who is he?
Me. Actually, Lazlo Falconi is a very accomplished mercenary, and one of the best fighter pilots around. Whilst not a very good engineer. He was never hired as a mercenary for McQuarrie, however due to previous dealings with Argus, he finds the man a friend and has lately given up his drifter lifestyle for the most part, choosing to mainly stay around helping with McQuarrie and it's dealings.

Races: There are only humans in this universe, however, the story takes place in an age where genetic modification has become possible, and there are colonies with altered humans living in them. If you really want to be an elf or some other fantasy creatures, that's fine--just make up a high-tech story for why you are the way that you are.

Recurring Locations: The biggest setting is, of course, Venus Orbital Station "McQuarrie", this is where the majority of interactions take place. However, the Solar System is in a state of cold war between the Earth and it's off-spring planet Mars. Although no shots have been fired since the War of Martian Independence, (Called the War of Martian Aggression by those on Earth) relationships between the two planets are still tense. Mars is mostly terraformed, however still vastly empty, with the citizens living mostly in the few large cities spread across the Martian surface, most notably the Martian Capitol of New Constantinoplis. Earth remains largely as it is now, however all cultural borders have been abolished and the planet is now run by the United Earth Council. Local authorities on Earth still run their locations as usual. In addition there are hundreds if not thousands of independent space colonies orbiting around various planets and on certain moons.

There is also Valhalla, the large SeaWolves base. It is a terrorist colony that is built mostly from the remains of other destroyed space colonies. It's location is unknown, but it is thought to reside somewhere in the region between Uranus and Neptune. Please note that if you base your character from this location you will be an enemy and mostly cut off from the rest of the story.


So let's get this thing started!

---

Lazlo Falconi sat in the cockpit of his modified space fighter, the Elwing. Based on the experimental Type-64 ARWING, his ship was one of a kind. One of the fastest single-pilot fighters in the solar system, built by hand by the man flying it to serve his every need as an Ace pilot. As he drifted through the inky blackness of space, he could clearly make out the clouds in the atmosphere of Venus, and as he casually glanced out the cockpit he noticed what seemed like a bright star orbiting the planet. Although his positioning sensors hadn't picked up the object, he knew exactly what it was. There was only one thing in orbit around Venus that was large enough to be seen from this distance.

The space station was massive, and still unfinished. It was one of the largest engineering initiatives undertaken in the vacuum of space, lead by the largest off-world corporation in the solar system. Venus Orbital Station "McQuarrie". It was called the Pearl of Venus by those who saw it at this distance. As he got closer, he eventually was picked up by the station's sensors.

The Ralcomm system crackled, and the familiar voice of Billy Hart, the station's head of communications brought the speakers to life, "Hey, Lazlo, welcome back! How was your visit to Mars?"

Lazlo almost wished Billy could see the sheer look of disappointment on his face. The trip was anything but a normal "visit", a Hart had put it. He had recently been brought up on charges of espionage by the extremely paranoid Martian government, and Lazlo had spent three weeks in arbitration trying to clear his name. Besides, only some of the accusations were true. Lazlo simply replied, "Is Swift around?"

The Ralcomm was silent for a second, the Billy's voice again, "He's actually a little bit busy at the moment. I don't think he'll be available for a chat until after you dock with the station. Ever so sorry about that. But if you want, I can have a message relayed to him."

"That's just fantastic," Lazlo muttured to himself. He could tell by Billy's tone that there was nothing serious happening, and that he needn't speed up to help with something, but he still couldn't help wondering what his old friend was doing. Then again, wondering what Argus Swift was doing was typically a dangerous thing to do.

After a minute of silence, Billy came over the Ralcomm again, "At your current speed and distance, it seems like your ETA will be about 16 hours. Just hang tight until you're within grappling distance and we'll handle the rest. And as always, welcome to Venus Orbital Station McQuarrie!"

The Elwing's automated docking systems took over and fired retro boosters to slow the ship on to its destination. Lazlo wondered why Billy always took it upon himself to be the first to welcome any newcomer to the station, but he didn't think on it long. He was just pleased to be returning to the place he now called home.

"Lower!"

A great cube of metal was lowered a few centimeters.

"Alright, vertical is good! Twenty two millimeters to the right!"

The cube was moved as such.

"Alright! Bring'er in!"

The cube started moving forward. It entered the hole in the wall that was the primary entrance to McQuarrie's very large Hanger. The hole led right out into space, but had a force field that covered the hole and kept it airtight, but allowed ships to pass into and out of them.

Within the Hanger, where air circulated plentifully, the ear-splitting squelch of metal scraping harshly on even denser metal was heard. All the mechanics and pilots within the Hanger immediately slammed their hands over their

"Too far! Three millimeters to the left."

The movement was made, and now the minuscule amount of space that was allowed between the Hanger entrance and the cube was perfect.

"Good! Ease'er in!"

This time, the transition from vacuum to air was silent. No issues were had.

....However, as soon as the cube began working its way into the Hanger, the gravity generators that were at work in the Hanger began to drag the cube down towards the floor.

"Crap crap crap! Everyone, scatter!"

The mechanics that were nearest to the cube began to sprint away from it. The cube, which was now easily visible as a Mark 3 Loader mech in it's folded-up storage position, slowly careened to the floor.

The impact was impressive. Ships that were in their docks shook violently, some falling from their hanging positions to crashing on the ground, causing minor damages.

But on the plus side, the Loader mech was successfully dropped off inside the Hanger!

Attached to the mech on its backside was a Miner Claw, a bullet-shaped spaceship with its three tripod formation swing-arms latched onto the mech from behind. Miner Claws were small ships that could attach themselves to asteroids, and then serve as a foundation for a Miner Base, an attachment that hooked right onto the Miner Claw, which scanned, surveyed, and then drilled into the asteroid to get its resources out. The Miner Claws themselves weren't built for any kind of speed whatsoever, but they were the absolute best thing available for making millimeter-distance flight adjustments.

They didn't often do well with gravity, however. They were strictly made for space.

The Exo Suit that was standing on the Miner Claw facepalmed. The person in it, Broom, was one of the head figures for McQuarrie's mining operations. He was the one most often out at the asteroids doing manual labour with the workers, while his wife Kirsten handled more of the adminsistration work. (though they could switch roles easily) His Exo Suit (robotic body armour that doubled as space suits and strength multipliers) had a special scanner array built onto his helmet, which could measure the distance between two objects down to the picometer range. Very necessary for making sure Miner Claws attach at the exact right location. When Kirsten was piloting the Miner Claw, working together they could maneuver a Miner Claw through a playground.

But when the pilot of the Miner Claw was your eccentric boss...

The hatch of the Miner Claw popped open and out came Argus Swift, a tall figure with a thick head of brown curly hair, sunglasses over his eyes, tritanium greaves over his feet and forelegs, and a broad grin over his face.

Broom strode over to Argus and clocked him on the shoulder lightly. (he'd have to; the strength of the Exo Suit could punch right through a human ribcage) Argus toppled off and over and off the Miner Claw as Broom shook his head. "Dammit, Swift! You knew it was only technically possible for a folded Loader to fit into the temporary Hanger entrance! I thought you could fly better!"

Argus had, of course, landed with a roll when he hit the floor of the Hanger, coming to a stand perfectly unharmed. "I can! Usually I'm in the Pyro-GX!" He started heading for the entrance into the Loader mark 3 mech.

"A Miner Claw isn't the Pyro! Micro movements are much easier with a Miner!" Broom hopped down onto the floor as well as Swift opened the Loader mech hatch from the outside. "I thought you would have been able to do something as simple as typing in a distance and a direction!"

The hatch of the Loader mech opened up. "Who does it the boring way? I was piloting with the stick!" He climbed into the Loader mech, leaving Broom dumbfounded. Somehow, with a normal flight stick, Argus Swift, widely noted as the best pilot on the McQuarrie, could make a Miner Claw move a mere three millimeters.

Knowing Argus, though, he won't ever mention it except to show someone up, and he'll be infuriatingly happy about it as he always is.

The Loader mech, scrunched up into a large cube as though it were the fetal position, suddenly lurched into life. The brake and reverse lights that were on the rear foreleg of the mech lit up, the floodlights on the front chest of the mech turned on their lowest brightness setting for just a second, temporarily blinding just a couple of the Hanger mechanics that were in front of the Loader. Slowly and surely, the arms of the mech started moving away from the body, the legs started bending into a straight standing position, until the mech was at it's full standing position, roughly thirty feet tall in total.

Broom sighed, then spoke into his Ralcomm to Swift. "At least tell me why you needed a Loader mech in the Hanger? We're planning to have Hanger and Mech Bay merged anyways, in due time, but we're still repairing the damage caused by that attack from the Seawolves."

"Exactly!" Came the happy reply that buzzed right in Broom's head. "Think how much easier moving heavy objects and reaching high up places will be with a Loader mech around!"

No one could argue with that. It was a pain to start up a spaceship, let it warm up, and then have it hover several feet if it was in the way. With a Loader mech, which had padded fingers and palms for safe handling of sensitive objects, things would be easier to handle in the wake of all these repairs.

Swift's Ralcomm then burst into life. The voice of Billy Hart echoed in his head. "Swift, sir, Lazlo Falconi is inbound. Shall I patch you thro-"

"No need, Billy mah boi!" Swift cut in. "I'll do it meself." Swift then changed frequencies to the very familiar signal of Lazlo Falconi's Ralcomm.

"Laz! Your ship better be in better condition this time around! My cleaning robots are on the verge of going on strike 'cuz of you!"

Lazlo's eyes shot open as his Ralcomm crackled very loudly, and Argus' voice blared, "Laz! Your ship better be in better condition this time around!"

Lazlo knew Argus had patched himself through, without letting Billy do it, it was always too loud. "Dangit, Swift, I was sleeping! Did you have to call now?" Lazlo reached up and flipped a switch above his head, and the darkened pseudoglass around the cockpit began to clear up, returning to its normal state, and allowing light to pass through. He could clearly make out the details of Station McQuarrie. He could see the large, flat panels of the habitat zone, with the rounded command center perched on top, the catwalk, a large corridor with glass walls leading between the habitat zone and the main hull, offering a glorious view of the planet below gleaming in the harsh sunlight, unfiltered by any hint of atmosphere. The large docking bays were hidden from that angle, but he could see the large mech hangars, and the glinting light of a few dozen large mechs and freight ships buzzing around the station. He looked at the computer display on his control panel. Roughly an hour until touch down.

"Sleeping? It's the middle of the day cycle!" Argus yelled, even louder than before.

Lazlo rolled his eyes, "Not on Mars it isn't. On Mars it's half past two tenths, and I'm bushed!" The Ralcomm was silent for a second, so Lazlo translated, "That's like three AM on Earth." Being a Martian native, Lazlo never understood how the people of Earth used their weird 24 hour time instead of a nice, round 10 hour metric clock. But then, Earthlings were weird.

Completely unabashed, Argus asked, "So how was your visit to Mars?"

Chuckling, Lazlo said, "I can already see I'm going to regret coming back. Anything exciting happen whilst I was gone?"

"I'll bring you up to speed once you get back. Cutler tells me you're due in aboot an hour? I'll meet you in the Docking Bay."

---

When the Elwing came through the force field at the entrance to Docking Bay 2, Argus was already there. Since McQuarrie's automated systems could easily dock a small fighter like Lazlo's, he jumped out and the two old friends walked toward each other. Lazlo yelled, "Ahh, good to smell that fresh recycled air again!" Of course, any air would feel fresh after a week cooped up in a small one-man vessel.

Both men put their fists to their chests in the unofficial McQuarrie salute, and began walking toward the Docking Bay's exit. Argus, being an exceptionally tall man, had an unusually long stride, and walked fast through the corridors of McQuarrie. Lazlo always found that annoying about the man. Nobody needed to walk that fast, but it was no trouble to keep up, so he asked again, "You said you had something you wanted to tell me?"

If Lazlo hadn't known better, he would have thought Argus missed a step. "Yes, well... This came over from our Net's Mars link today." He walked to a nearby computer terminal and tapped a few keys to bring up a message from the Martian homeworld. "I received this yesterday." The great seal of Mars was clearly visible at the top of the page. Lazlo read it curiously.

ATTN: Argus Swift, Venus Orbital Station “McQuarrie”

Long has The Great Planet of Mars watched McQuarrie in silence, wondering of your purposes. Yesterday the alleged Earth spy known as Lazlo Falconi was seen on a course that could only lead to your facility. By allowing this criminal to reside on within your colony will leave no doubt in the minds of the Martian Senate. If the criminal is not handed over to Martian authorities prosecution will have to be sought against Station McQuarrie.

END TRANSMISSION//

"This can't be... the charges were thrown out!"

Argus sighed, "But you know how the Martian Senate can be. Once you're guilty, you're marked for life."

Lazlo knew it was true. He knew better than most. It wasn't the first time his way of life had brought him across Martian court rooms, but they had never gone through any lengths to stop him after a public trial. "I have to go back, I have to do something."

"No, you'll stay here. If you go back to Mars, you know the only thing waiting for you will be a jail cell."

'A jail cell,' Lazlo thought, 'More like a dungeon.' Aloud he said, "But you saw what they said, Martian 'Justice' is nothing to scoff at, Swift. This isn't the SeaWolves we're dealing with here. They have a whole planet of resources, and once the Senate sets it's eyes on a goal, it won't stop at anything until the mission is complete. It's why I left!"

Nodding, Argus said, "True, McQuarrie couldn't stand up to a full-on attack from Mars, come on, let's head to the lounge. We have a lot to discuss."

---

Richard Chronnister, a balding man with a strong jaw, toned physique and wide shoulders, sat at his chair in the middle of the McQuarrie Operations Command Centre, the heart and soul of McQuarrie. From here, a crew of seven men and women oversaw all actions aboard McQuarrie. Chronnister loved his job. As First Shift Director he conducted McQuarrie’s staff during most of the day cycle, where the heaviest workload was. The day cycle was a bit longer than Earth’s own day, and synced up with Mars’ every three to four days, and thus saw a lot of action. Only the most talented and intelligent of McQuarrie’s crew worked the Command Center on the first shift, but he was their Director.

Originally, First Shift Director was Argus’ job, but as time wore on Argus found he had other duties to perform for McQuarrie, and the best way to do that was to leave the day to day operations in the hands of others. He still oversaw anything major and had final say, but this was Chronnister’s command.

An alarm sounded on one of the computer consoles, and before Chronnister could even ask about it, the man seated in front of it replied to Chronnister's unasked question, "Just a small overload in Power Production Three... The team is already working to determine the glitch. I'm rerouting supplies from Production Six."

Chronnister nodded, "Good, notify Ore Processing Two that they may experience some downtime."

Billy Hart, the man seated at the communications terminal, tapped away at his keyboard, and said something quietly into his headset, then turned around to look at Chronnister, "Commander, Argus Swift would like to see you down at the Lounge. He says it's important."

Confused, Chronnister asked, "Did he say what it's about?" The man shook his head, and went back to tapping away at his computer, and talking into his headset. As head of communications, he was busy most of the day, routing Ralcomm transmissions and other duties. He called to Elizabeth Cutler, who was seated at External Surveillance, telling her she was in charge and walked out of the Command Centre. On the way to the Lounge, he wondered about what Argus wanted to talk about. Typically, the man knew Chronnister was busy, and came to him when they needed to talk, or just sent a message by Ralcomm.

He quickly made his way to the Lounge, and saw Argus and Lazlo sitting at a table, discussing something over drinks. He wasn't greeted as he sat down. "We need your expertise." Argus usually wasn't this blunt.

"On what?"

Argus looked at Lazlo, then back to Chronnister. "We're planning a raid."

Chronnister was curious. McQuarrie wasn't the type of operation that went on raids, "What are you talking about? You know I have no heart for raiding innocent colonies."

Shaking his head, Argus said, "Not a colony. You know that Lazlo was having legal troubles with Mars. They've decided he's a worth hunting down, and that McQuarrie is not going to stand in the way."

Somberly, Chronnister said, "You can't send him back, he'll be killed. Or worse."

"So you think we should keep him here, and fight the Martians?" Argus asked. He was always fond of leading questions.

"No, we can't survive a fight with the Martians. They'll stop at nothing to get what they want."

Lazlo nodded, "That's what I told him, but he thinks he has a plan."

Argus spared a brief glare for Lazlo, "I do have a plan. As a whole, McQuarrie can't fight the Martians. But the three of us can quickly make it back to Mars, get in, and figure out what they're up to."

Finally let in on the plan, Lazlo's eyes widened, "Yes... Figure out what they're really after. Hide the evidence. I like it. And with what Chronnister and I know, it should be an easy task to sneak in."

Smiling, Argus tapped on the table, "Exactly. We'll go out there, just a small squad and infiltrate the Martian Stateroom, fi--"

Chronnister cut him off, "Wait, you want to sneak into New Constantinopolis? How do you plan to do that, they have ident tracking at every entrance to the city! And then you mean to actually enter the most secured building in the solar system without anyone asking who you are or why you're there?"

Lazlo smiled, "Why not? I've done it before."

'And he wonders why they want him...' Chronnister thought to himself. "Alright, but we need to think this out. This can't just be another mission where we just wing it and hope everything works out for the best."

"Don't worry aboot that," Argus said, "You're part of the planning committee right now. But we have to be fast, we're leaving in ten hours."

((OOC: Hey Swift, if you want other characters to come, now's the chance to get them into the plan, but you don't have to actually make up a plan, I've got that all worked out.))

"Ten hours huh?" a new person to the conversation spoke up as she walked through the doors. She was holding a green apple in one hand (well... half of one) and a pairing knife in the other. "Guess we'd better get started on that plan then eh? Hope you know what you're doing..." she said as she trailed off. She sat herself down at the table with a grin as she tore off another piece of the skin of the apple using her knife and dropped it into her mouth.

The boys sort of exchanged glances and Antha only gave them a crooked smile. "Don't do that," she said shaking her head. "I can read your minds already, and I don't like the answers you're giving me." She looked at them each in turn reading what she believed their thoughts to be. "You can't come along," next man, "you won't be any help," and the last, "three will be difficult enough, we don't need a girl gumming up the works." The last one she was sure to shoot a look of amusement. "Please... if there's one thing you all need, it's someone who can keep you in line." Sure, she trusted these guys, and in the majority of cases, these guys were some of her closest friends, but she knew how wild and crazy they could get at times. They would indeed need her to be a sense of reason, a resource of logic and organization. Plus, she'd gotten pretty good at all this space stuff.

Lazlo blinked. "When did you even get here?"

"Three days ago," she said with a smile. "I've been hanging out with Kyra," she said with a shrug, "over in HR." Kyra was easily one of the most organized people that Antha knew, and also one of the most fun. The two had a lot in common, and could talk for hours a day about things that the men in their world's simply were not interested in. Antha leaned back in the seat she was sitting in and propped her feet up on the table getting comfortable as she ate her apple. "Besides, Sempai was happy to have an extra set of hands in the kitchen," Antha couldn't make a good sandwich to save her life, but she could make an amazing casserole.

"So let me help." She was originally an Earth girl. She liked it there, despite the crowds. It was home, it was what she knew, and it was where she enjoyed being, usually. All the other planets were just too raw for her. But, she'd gotten a job and finally gotten her scared little self off her home planet, and amongst the stars. She hasn't spent much time at home since leaving. Wasn't all bad, all she did really was fly in circles, delivering things. Did it mean she was a mail carrier, technically yes! But she was express, so she got to drive fast, which was one of her favorite parts, and the best of her newly acquired skills. Her aim was... well nothing to be too excited about, but she could fly fast and dodge well! She was too peaceful for a fire fight anyway. But she was sure there were other things she could do to be of assistance that didn't require firing a laser, or a bullet, or a gun of any kind. If nothing else, she'd be great at watching and directing via Ralcomm.

Antha craned her neck over to take a look at the communication that they'd received. Looked as though Lazlo had gotten himself in a bit of a jam. She hadn't heard the whole story... just the last part while listening through the door. At this point, the men could try all they wanted, there would be no talking her out of it, Antha was determined to help, and help she would, one way or another. She sliced another piece off of her apple and ate it before taking off another slice and extending it to Argus. It wasn't a bribe... but surely it couldn't hurt.

Argus gave a little giggle as he accepted the slice of apple. "I KNEW you were a good hire!" He popped the slice of apple into his mouth and began chewing. "Noot meny new emproyees take thish much ineesheetive." Bits of apple were being spit everywhere. Everyone at the table collectively glared at Argus.

He swallowed in a totally hetero manner. "Heh, sorry. Anyways! A dangerous and stealthy mission ahead of us, it's best to keep our tech up to date. That's one area where can CAN beat the martians at! They don't have..."

He sent a quick message on his Ralcomm.

Then they waited a minute.

Dramatic pause....

The door to the Lounge popped open, and in came the labcoat clad Magellan, head of McQuarrie's Science division. He looked as though he was panting heavily.

"I'm... Sorry... I knew... dramatic... entrance..." He hobbled into the room slowly. His grey hair fell loosely down beyond where his ears would be, but instead of ears, there were small metal machinations down from his ears to near his chin, almost as though he decided to MAKE his own mutton chops. Though obviously technological, with a spattering of antennae along it, Magellan had never revealed what its purpose was. Since they covered his ears, many presumed they were hearing aids on steroids.

"Dammit, Magellan!" Swift scoffed in a joking manner. "Science is the closest department to Lounge! You need to get into shape, man!"

"Sorry... I'm always... too busy..." Magellan finally made it to the table of discussion and sat down. He placed his head on the table and began breathing deeply. Argus brought him a cup of water (Of course there's a water fountain in the Lounge!) and Antha gave him a slice of apple.

"S'alright, Magellan! Catch your breath while I bring in someone who can make better time!"

Another Ralcomm was sent.

....Another bit of waiting.

But in much less time than Magellan, the door to the Lounge slid open, and in came a fairly short, well stocked, dark flowing hair and red-shirted woman. Compared to the sloppy entrance of Magellan, the lithe and martial artist build of Sempai was in direct contrast. She had in her hand a simple and straight cane. Antha gave a little wave to Sempai, and she smiled and nodded back.

"Sempai! So good to have you!" Everyone just now noticed that Argus was standing on the table. He beckoned to a chair. "Come, have a seat! We're about to embark on a dangerous mission!"

Sempai gracefully took the seat beside Antha. Another slice of apple was offered and accepted and eaten.

"Well, that's everyone I had in mind." Argus said and finally sat down in his seat properly like a good boy. "Anyone else have someone in mind?"

((OOC: Hey Swift, could you edit your post to include the fact that the crew is actually in the Lounge, not the Command Centre?))

“That bright star, that’s it.” Argus said. “Mars.” Lazlo looked out the front view port, and saw one star outshining the others with a slight reddish hue. He hadn’t been paying attention, and Argus noticed it first.

Chronnister clicked a few keys on the keyboard at the navigational computer, “Looks like we’ll be visible to them in about five hours. I’m spoofing our outgoing ident frequency.” The plan was to make the approaching vessel seem like it was a cargo ship from an independent colony. They would still arouse suspicion from the naturally reclusive Martians, but there wouldn’t be any major hassles.

A door opened swiftly and Magellan walked out, carrying a set of five small objects, each more identical than the last. Before anyone could even ask, he said, “Holographic projectors. They won’t fool anyone looking closely, and you won’t be able to get into a secured building using them, but they should help disguise you if you get into trouble and need to run away.”

He handed them out, and Sempai asked, “Only five? You’re not coming?”

Magellan shook his head, and said with a smile, “No, I’m not really the adventuring type, besides, you need someone in the back, ready with the escape vehicle, don’t you?” He looked at Argus, who nodded, then continued, “Now, I’ve spoken with Mr. Chronnister and Mr. Falconi a length, and we’ve devised a bit of a plan of action for getting into the city.

“But before we do that, we’ll need to do some recon.” He tapped a few keys on a nearby keyboard, and a screen he was standing next to lit up with a map of the New Constantinople area. “As you can see, the city is situated south of Arsia Mons, so that should provide a good vantage point for observing the city, and more importantly, the Senate building.

“We don’t know what type of security systems they have in place there, but likely it will involve live guards, automated screening systems, and possibly booby-traps. You’ll all have to be extremely careful down there.”

Chronnister spoke up, “The Martians know that Arsia Mons is a likely target for an ambush, but it’s also a favored playground for children, and it isn’t watch very heavily. If you keep out of sight you’ll be fine. Getting into the city won’t be difficult, Magellan has falsified documents for us, and inside the city is pretty free. We shouldn’t have too much trouble until we try to get into the sensitive areas of the Senate building.”

---

The win ruffled Lazlo’s hair a bit as he sat atop his perch on the Martian volcano. From here, he could see the entire Martian capitol of New Constantinopolis, but the small scrub bushes and large grass would keep him well hidden from all but the most sophisticated of tracking devices. It was a warm day, warmer than usual for Mars, but the Martians were pumping greenhouse gasses into their atmosphere every day. The terraforming process would take years, though there were some fighting to keep the Martian environment as it was.

He returned his spy scope to his eyes. The Imperial Martian Senator was meeting with a female he didn’t recognize, but his facial recognition software was having trouble diciphering what they were saying. ’Probably one of his aides...’ He decided to scan the streets to see if anything of note was happening in the rest of the city, when he came across Richard Chronnister.

As a native of New Constantinopolis--and decidedly not a wanted man, as Lazlo was, Chronnister was ideal to walk the streets, his slightly slurry accent with clipped words fitting in perfectly with the other Constantines. He was walking with a determined air, as though he had some place to be, though in reality he was just wandering the streets around the Capitol Building hoping to hear something important. Civil Propaganda posters were on nearly every wall, ranging from the mundane personal hygiene posters declaring the joys of exersise, to the wildly insane anti-Earth sentiments of some older Revolutionary War campaigns.

When night fell, the whole team would regroup in a tiny cafe that had been one of Chronnister’s favorites growing up. They would discuss what they knew, and the next day, the infiltration would begin.

Sauntering down the long corridor, Miria dreaded her destination. Her shoes clacked
loudly on the exquisite marble flooring, so shiny that she could somewhat see her
reflection. Her hair was long and blonde, her eyes an unremarkable shade of brown.
Although her hair hung loosely, the rest of her looked professional enough. She had warn
plain pants and a stiff blue button up shirt, with Mars' insignia sewn on the left side of her
chest. She was of average height, and average build. She was considered attractive, but it
rarely gained her any leverage, especially not around the Senate. And especially not
where she was headed now.

Continuing to the end of the hallway, Miria gulped loudly as she faced the tall wooden
door panels before her. She felt tiny in the large corridor, especially knowing what laid
before her. She straigtened her clothes nervously and pulled at her hair, then squared her
shoulders and reached out a shaky hand to push a button next to the door. After a
moment of silence, a small speaker next to the door spout out "Enter" in a voice Miria
recognized too well. The wooden panels slid apart, and she stepped inside the grand
room.

The room itself was decorated handsomely, with thick burgundy drapes lining the
windows that spanned the right wall of the room, and with shelves of books and trinkets
that spanned the left. But not even the most ornate room could distract one from what
was sitting behind the great oak desk in front of her. She cleared her throat and forced
herself to bring her eyes to his.

The Imperial Martian Senator Anthius Yevitz was as impressive as he always was. His long white beard was clipped and shaped immaculately, while his balding head shown brightly. His gray
eyebrows, revealing that he was once dark haired, were also shaped fashionably, though
they did nothing to distract from the cold, calculating eyes beneath them. He kept his
head rested upon his hands, which were folded neatly beneath his chin. Miria felt him
sizing her up, felt him being unhappy with her. She walked closer to the desk and stood
between the two chairs offered to his visitors, her hands clasped tightly behind her. "I
came as soon as I got the message, sir. Ya wanted ta see me?"
Yevitz sighed deeply, then crossed his arms across his chest. "Miss Harzelle. We've
gotten word that you botched the detaining of Lazlo Falconi. He was indited of his
charges of treason."

"Ahh, yeah, I heard. About that-" Miria was cut off sharply.

"The Senate was hoping to have him detained for at least a month!" Miria's eyes widened
a bit as he raised his tone. The signs of anger were already beginning to surface; she
hadn't anticipated that he'd be so irritated this quickly. "He's making them increasingly
nervous. Falconi's a loose cannon. The Martian government is still new enough that a
renegade like him can cause the people to doubt our stablity! The people need to know
that we are an entity to be feared, and garbage like Falconi can be dealt with."

Fidgeting a bit, Miria stammered, "Sir... I looked for evidence against him. He's had dealin's
with some outposts but it's certainly noth-"

"You were given strict orders to falsify evidence if you were too stupid to find any
yourself! His dealings may not seem significant, but they may very well have been!
Falconi is good at what he does. He's filthy. He'll take bribes, he'll do whatever job will get him the most cash. We are currently constructing new ships that could take on many
standard war ships in this galaxy. Hell, our scientists are even trying to concoct some
shockwave emitters that will completely manipulate the read outs and navigation of
enemy war ships! There are many secrets that he could sell to the highest bidder. That's a
risk we can't take."

"He probably wouldn't have even considered doin' that if ya hadn't arrested him for stuff
ya can't even prove he did in the first place." Miria laughed nervously, scratching her
head.

Suddenly, Yevitz shot out of his chair, sending it spiraling into the wall behind him. He
slammed his open palms on the desk in front of him, leaning forward towards her. "It's
your dimwitted thinking that exacerbates all these problems that the council trusts you to
fix! You were hired as my aide to smooth over the little bumps in the Senate's decisions.
To cover my tracks and to make sure everything is accounted for in our hearings. And
you can't do a damn thing I ask you to do!" Miria raised her finger and opened her mouth
to interject, but Yevitz continued. "Miss Harvelle... I hired you as a favor, but my desire to
fulfill the favor is proving to be nothing in comparison to my desire to get you the hell out
of the Senate. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just fire you this very minute."

She met his gaze with a weak smile, which soon fell when she saw the expectant look on
his face. This was not a joke. "I uh... well... ha ha... You see, Mistah Y, it's like this..." She plopped down in one of the chairs before the desk unceremoniously, then straightened
and nodded resolutely. "Well, it'd take an awful lotta paperwork to fire me, and you know
how you hate paperwork. That's why I always take care of it for ya! And ya also said your
past aides could nevah iron your pants the way you like 'em. Also, I'm pretty sure no one
else would clean your house for free without askin' ya for extra pay, sir."

Yevitz's brow twitched a bit as he pulled his chair forward, then fell into it gracefully. He
leaned back, lacing his hands over his stomach, and closed his eyes heavily. With a sigh,
he opened them again and regarded the young woman before him. "Miria... I want you to
make a public broadcast to New Constantinopolis. We sent a transmission some time ago
to McQuarrie, regarding their swift return of Falconi. However, it's been rumored that
Falconi and the leader of McQuarrie have formed a sort of alliance and I am doubtful that
this Argus Swift fellow will comply with our orders."

Miria looked as confused as she felt. "What would ya have me say, boss? Why not just
send the coppah's out to McQuarrie?"

Yevitz shook his head impatiently. "Falconi's not stupid. He won't be there by the time we
get there. Swift may have already warned him, I'm not sure how far their friendship goes. I
fear that if Swift doesn't comply with our orders, Lazlo will come back to cause trouble
since he knows now that he's a threat to us. He has no love for Mars, and thus I have no
doubt that he would throw our operations under the bus if he is given the chance. There's
nothing concrete we can hold him for here, but hopefully he doesn't know that. Falconi
needs to be monitored at all times, so the sooner we can get him back to Mars and in a jail
cell, the better." Yevitz' gaze wandered to the windows, seemingly searching for something
that he couldn't find. He added thoughtfully, "He'll be back here soon enough."

"A-and the broadcast, sir?"

Yevitz looked at Miria quickly, his gaze focusing once again. "I need you to make a
broadcast to New Constantinoplis to be on the look out for any unusual people or ships.
Make sure to show a picture of Falconi and his ship." He added warily, thinking back on
all the blunders Miria had made of simple tasks due to her obliviousness to the obvious.
"I want this city on alert. Anything strange or suspicious is to be reported to the
authorities immediately, if not sooner. Can you handle that, Miss Harzelle?"

Miria stood up quickly, a determined grin set on her face. "Of course, Mistah Y! Consider
it done. I won't letcha down, sir."

Yevitz stood up as well, brushing off his coat. He was pleased at her enthusiasm, but it
was far than enough to assure him that she would not indeed let him down. He had never
had much faith in her, and the little he did have was steadily waning with each passing
assignment. Hopefully she could pull off this simple task. "Well then, you may use the
terminal in the first conference room. Take care of it as soon as possible, if you will."

"Yes, of course, sir! Thank ya, sir!" She bowed slightly to him, then turned on her heel
and sped out of the office. After the doors slid closed behind her, she jumped up and
down a few times before straightening her clothes and walking quickly down the hall.
Passing a few doors, she turned right where the hallway intersected another, and
proceeded to pass one door before stopping at the next. After pushing a button on the
wall, the doors flew open, and she let herself in.

Sitting in the middle seat in a long table of seats facing a large display screen, Miria
leaned forward and typed into the terminal before her. After a few moments, she could see
herself on the display screen as it would be displayed on the large screens around the city
and personal screens in the New Constantine's homes.

Putting on her best smile, Miria brushed her hair behind her ears and cleared her throat.
"Hello! I am Miria Harzelle, speaking on behalf of Mistah Imperial Martian Senator Anthius
Yevitz. This is a broadcast to warn ya of any suspicious characters or ships in the area.
We are on the look out for Lazlo Falco-"

Miria spun around in her seat as she heard a commotion in the hallway and the doors
crash open.

Antha lent her old ship for the flight to mars. She had been a flight mail carrier, of course, before coming to McQuarrie and only being hired three days ago. She still had her old mail ship that she hadn’t turned in yet, and frankly, she was glad that she’d be able to use it rather than just handing it back in without a word. It allowed them to fly into the Martian atmosphere without much question, as she quietly flew over the Arsia Mons putting the safely down out of sight. “Alright all,” she said over her intercom, “we’ve landed safe and sound. Careful out there,” she added before removing her headset and getting out of cock pit of the craft.

By the time that she had gotten out of the craft everyone else was outside already. It had occurred to her that the ship may just sit there to rust, but that wouldn’t bother her any. There wasn’t anything on there that would get her into any trouble. All the mail had been delivered, so it wasn’t a big problem. If later she were to get a phone call saying that she needed to return her ship to government instantly… she’d come back for it… or explain it and pay the fine. And if they got out safely enough then possibly the ship could be used in an escape. Either way, it had served its purpose, and had been a grand old craft. She didn’t have anything of value on it anymore, taking it out with her at McQuarrie or now. Stepping out into the warmness of the planet she felt the need to take off her suede black jacket, and simply tossed it over her shoulder for now. She was dressed fairly simply in a faded indigo top and a pair of black jeans. She always wore a pair of boots, she found them the best for movement and protected her weak ankles. Not that Antha wasn’t a strong person. She wasn’t exactly a body builder but she could hold her own in a game of tug-o-war. She’d been born with weak ankles that would twist and even break easily, the boots kept them straight when she was moving. Looking upwards at the sky she put on a pair of sunglasses, hiding her blue green eyes. It was comfortable outside, putting a smile on her face as her light brown hair blew back in the wind. She looked around at everyone else. The way they were all standing, and the way the wind was hitting them all, they looked like a bunch of superheroes. She had to stifle a laugh as Lazlo turned to speak to the group.

“The best way to get in is one at a time, and from different angles. Everyone coming from the same direction at 5 minute intervals might look a little suspicious. So be mindful before you go barreling down, got it?” Everyone shrugged, nodded, gave some show of understanding. From there everyone was aware of the plan of meeting up in the café and going from there, simplistic enough.

First thing Antha did was take a look at her papers so that she could talk herself out of a bad situation if she had to. Antha considered herself a decent actress, or at least a fair liar, and knowing her character would help. The story on the papers wasn’t too different from her own really. However, according to what she was holding she was a tourist. Simple enough… she loved to take pictures. She even had a camera with her. It doubled as her personal assistant, but who didn’t have that all-encompassing gadget these days. Besides all that tourism would make for a good reason for her to be coming from the Arsia Mons. Out taking a recreational hike, why the heck not? According to her fake background, she was from Earth. True. And she was a school teacher… well that wasn’t true, but she would make it work! How hard could teaching elementary school be?

Antha broke off and headed down the mountain, upon finding a hiking trail. Good enough for her, and safe enough to get her down to the city. She’d been to New Constantinopolis several times on delivery, but hadn’t ever explored the town beyond the loading docks. She pulled out her camera and took a few pictures, no one really thinking much of it, her looking around constantly like she’d never been there before… it screamed tourist. She was proud.

The capital building seemed the best place to go, so that was where she went, making sure to constantly look around, just like a tourist. As she went inside she propped her sunglasses on top of her head, and tucked her hair behind her ears. She would go different directions and up and down different hall ways. She would take snapshots of things on the walls, or different doors of senators… but the point being all of her pictures had the locations of the security guards in the background. Several times she would walk towards doors that she figured she probably shouldn’t go through, but when a guard would stop her she would just grin and chuckle. “Sorry, just having fun looking around!” she would say in a chipper voice and then head off down the hallway. By the time she finished her self-tour rather quickly, knowing where she could and couldn’t go and where all the guards were.

She took her newly acquired information and headed out to the café that they had agreed to meet at. She ordered herself a hot chocolate (her excuse being that she didn’t want to overload herself on caffeine so late at night) and sat herself down at a table. Pulling out her personal assistant again Antha proceeded to read a book on it… at the same time being very observant of the world around her, ready for anything, she wasn’t dumb. Not too much later, Argus and Sempai came through the door. She gave them a grin and then looked to go back to her book.

When Lazlo walked into the cafe, he noticed everyone already seated at a table near the back. Oddly, Argus Swift and Sempai were still missing. Lazlo hoped his friend hadn’t been detained. He made a big scene of greeting everyone at the table, as though they were long lost friends that had agreed to meet after years of distance. Of course, with the suspicious air most Martians had, any large grouping had eyes on it, but those who were loud and obnoxious were mostly ignored. Spies did try to not generally attract attention.

After a few minutes of merry-making, and pretending to catch up with each other, Lazlo asked, “Has anyone seen Swift? I lost track of him a few hours ago...” A stir of mutters and shaken heads told him all he needed to know. But Argus was a resourceful man, and despite their worrying, everyone at the table knew he could handle himself, plus he had taken off with Sempai, and she was a fighter to make even the strongest men squeal. “We’ll have to look for him some other time. What do we know?”

Antha piped up, dropping some photos on the table. At first glance they looked like regular pictures of the sights and other tourists, but upon closer inspection Lazlo could see their value. “I’ve taken these around town, there’s even some from the Capitol Building. I would have thought there would be more security.”

Chronnister’s reply put that into perspective, “The people are a little upset. There has been no inclination from Earth about an attack in decades. The war is over, and people know it. Some of the older generation maintains their suspicions of outsiders, but there is a great deal of pressure for social change. They don’t think the war machine is necessary anymore.”

As Chronnister talked, Lazlo thumbed through the photos, noting various locations would could be used as a quick escape. He studied each photo from the Capitol Building closely, trying to memorize the passageways and locations of guards, when he came across a name he hadn’t seen in years. “Yevitz...” He said, cutting Chronnister off. The others looked to him, awaiting an explanation.

“Councilman Yevitz... Or I guess, ‘Grand Senator Yevitz’, now, has always had it out for me, since I took the designs for my Elwing... I’m certain he’s behind this, and if I can get into his office, I’m certain I’ll find the reason behind this whole farce.”

Smiling, Chronnister added, “Well then, you’ll be happy to hear that right now, the building is being operated by only a skeleton crew. Most of the Senate is on holiday right now, just a few guards and the Grand Senator himself.”

“And that aide,” Antha added, pointing to a picture of a young woman with blonde hair. “If that Yevitz guy’s office is where you need to be, you can easily get in through this conference room. I saw the windows open on my way out, and it’s right next to his office.”

Lazlo nodded, “That will be perfect. If nobody’s there, nobody will be in a conference. Alright then, it’s settled. I’ll sneak in through the conference room window and find anything pertaining to me on Yevitz’ desk. Then I’ll... Wreck up the place or something. Antha, I need your ship to be ready to leave as soon as I’m aboard. I’ll probably be coming in hot so keep the engines running. Chronnister, try to find Argus and Sempai. If you can’t find them in an hour, they’ll have to stay here. I imagine that’s about all the time we have. Antha, if I’m not back in an hour, leave. There’s no reason for everyone to go down with me. Oh, and for cryin’ in the soup, could you have Magellan try to contact Argus?”

Their plan in action, the crew split up. Lazlo and Chronnister walked for a while together, talking as though they had all the time in the world. Despite the troubles he was currently having, Lazlo found himself missing Mars. He had rarely gone to New Constantinopolis, but he enjoyed it each time. Being one of the first cities on Mars, it was broken into two distinct districts. The sprawling metropolitan “New City”, where most people lived and worked was rather haphazardly designed. As the city radiated out from the center, the roads became wider, and only on the outskirts of town were vehicles larger than a bicycle found. Closer to the center of the city the buildings were bunched very closely together, and formed small, seemingly redundant neighborhoods.

The Old City had been designed much better. Built before the terraforming process, it was meant to be a completely enclosed, and self-contained ecosystem. Of course, the old hydroponic farms had been replaced with cramped apartments, but otherwise the Old City had changed very little since being build. The roads were small, meant for walking from place to place, and the softly tinted pseudoglass dome glinted in the soft, red-hued light of the late afternoon.

As they crossed into the Old City, the pair split up. Just five years ago, they would have been asked to show papers upon walking through the gate. That must be the social reform Chronnister had mentioned. Whatever the reason, it certainly helped their case that nobody seemed to notice as they walked under the dome.

Lazlo made a few laps around the Capitol Building, and noticed the window Antha had mentioned. Careful to not be noticed, he quietly slipped into the building and closed the window. As he neared the door, he heard a single set of footsteps echoing in the hallway behind. He looked around for a hiding spot and dashed behind an ornate wooden cabinet just as the blonde woman from Antha’s photo walked in. Lazlo struggled to see what she was doing, but couldn’t get a good look without giving his position away.

He heard her shuffling by the table, then, “Hello, I am Miria Harzelle...” Lazlo dreaded what was about to happen. She was about to give a speech to the people, and he would be stuck behind that cabinet for quite a while. If only he had picked a better location to hide. He listened in and as he heard her try to incriminate him planet-wide, the door busted open. He heard Miria scream and the scramble of her trying to escape past him.

No thought was necessary. Lazlo jumped out from his hiding place, saw the tall, curly-haired man advancing on Miria and cleaned his clock. Miria jumped back, glancing down at the unconscious man at Lazlo’s feet. She leapt up and rather unceremoniously hugged him, shouting, “OH THANK YOU MISTAH! YOU SAVED MY LIFE! YOU’RE A HERO! A TRUE HERO TO BE REMEMBERED!” Lazlo tried backing away, noticing that he was clearly on camera, “Oh Mistah! You should get a medal! What’s your name! C’mon, don’t be shy now, you want a reward don’t ‘chya?”

Lazlo stumbled backward and noticed again the man lying on the floor. ’E-gads!’ He thought, ’It’s Argus!’. Putting on his best show of bravado and machoness, he said, “Yes my lady, but first, I must dispose of this foul malignant!” He lifted Swift’s limp--and rather heavy--body and tossed it inelegantly through the window, stating, “There, out with the trash. You are now safe my lady. And with that, I shall leave.”

Miria protested but Lazlo continued toward the door. That is, until he noticed Grand Senator Yevitz blocking the way. “Lazlo Falconi. How nice of you to drop by.”

Miria’s eyes shot up, “Wait, you’re Lazlo Falconi?! The scourge of Mars? Well it’s no wondah Mistah Y had to falsify all of those documents. You know, Mistah Y, there’s no need to be mean to Mistah L, he’s a hero. He saved my life!”

With each word that passed through Miria’s lips, the Senator’s eyes widened in horror. It seemed Miria had forgotten she was broadcasting live to all of Mars. He chuckled nervously, and looked at the camera, “Uhh... Miria, how can you say something like that? Did you even think to wonder how this Falconi character even got into this room? He’s not allowed in any Martian building, clearly he’s climbing in your windows and snatching your people up. Uhh, why don’t we move along to the cutting of the monitor.” He said, turning the camera off.

He spun around to look at Miria. “Miria. I want you in my office. Now. And you,” He said, turning to Lazlo, “Did you have to save her on live TV? I mean, did you have to save HER of all people?” Lazlo looked confused, “Just go to my office.”

Being the gentleman that he is, Lazlo complied. Already caught, there wasn’t much point in trying to escape. At least, not yet. Besides, he had just been cleared on camera before the whole planet. He almost welcomed a trial after Miria’s confession. Yevitz walked in shortly afterward, and plopped down on the large leather chair that sat behind his desk. He leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk, rubbing his temples. “Miria... I don’t know what to do with you. Since I hired you on, you have ruined every single plan I try to enact. It’s a wonder I’m still Grand Senator with all of your shenanigans.

“And you, Falconi... You seem to be an expert in finding the luckiest moment to do anything. You’re just about impossible to catch.” He sighed, and sat at his desk for a silent moment that seemed to stretch on forever. “Well that’s it then. You’re on probation. Miria, you are to go with Falconi, and make sure he doesn’t do anything...untoward. Keep him in line. And please don’t mess this up!”

Miria smiled slyly, and Lazlo stood up to protest, “Probation! But you’ve got nothing on me!”

The Senator looked up to Lazlo, “No... it’s not that.” He glanced at Miria, and Lazlo understood. Everybody needs to take a break from a bumbling side kick every once in a while. That’s why Minion didn’t join this adventure. But Lazlo didn’t want to be stuck with Miria...

Lazlo sighed and nodded. The least he could do was take Miria off his hands. It probably wouldn’t be too hard to strand her on a colony somewhere. Preferably somewhere far from McQuarrie. Even though he already had a plan to get rid of the woman, he had an annoying tugging at the back of his mind. It was almost as though he knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere for a long, long time.

From their vantage point of Arsia Mons, Argus Swift looked over the city of New Constantinopolis. Little could be seen of the individual streets and roads, but from the assemblage of the buildings, one could see where major highways were, and the striking differences of the New City and the Old. Plotting a path from this rough amalgamation of information, Argus pulled a small backpack out from the ship. From it he took out a red scarf and an extremely frayed brown jacket. He donned the jacket, which immediately made his appearance very ratty and disheveled. He then tipped his head back, so his hair flowed somewhat towards the ground. He tied the scarf around his head, leaving his large-ish forehead quite visible without the mop hanging over it. Lastly he took his sunglasses off and slipped them into an inside pocket in the jacket.

Sempai failed to contain a giggle. Argus gave her a quick glare before saying "I'm rather well known in certain circles! I can't be recognized right off the bat!" in his defense.

"You still look ridiculous." She said simply and headed to the ship.

"So long as I don't look like a handsome Industrialist." He slipped his backpack over his shoulders. "You coming or what?"

Sempai jumped out from the ship carrying a cane. It seemed ordinary at first glance, but Argus knew well that her favoured weapon was a Sword-cane. "I'm coming, I'm coming. Lead the way, oh handsome Industrialist!"

"Just don't get caught, a'ight? I'm leaving it to Lazlo to make the scenes." He replied as they both began strolling for the city of New Constantinopolis.

While still out of view of the city still, the two talked. Once they got nearer, they would have to split ways, so they went over each others plans. Sempai, knowing the ways of Mars better, would go nearer to the government center and plot entrances and escape routes from the Capitol Building. Argus, meanwhile, chose his particular getup for the purpose of heading into the slummier area of the city and get the general concencus and opinion of the lower-class Martian people.

As they came fairly close, Argus nodded in the direction he would go, and Sempai nodded with hers. With a small wave, they went their seperate ways into the city.

Soon Argus was wandering around in the more slummy area of the New City. With so many other disheveled figures going around, Argus didn't get too many raised eyebrows, save for perhaps glances at his silly red scarf. All the while, he was plotting escape routes just in case things got hairy. Many of the roofs seemed like viable options, as there were quite a few ways to get up, if one had the upper body strength.

All the while, he kept an ear open for rumours and opinions. He soon learned to pick out conversations that were just about the recent pop culture and from the political going-ons. Unsurprisingly, it was the older citizens that seemed more inclined to discuss politics. The general opinion seemed to be that the war felt like it was over, yet the government was still taking a very militaristic stance with their rulings and fundings. Some thought the war should have kept going, most however agreed that it should stay in relative peace and just spend less on military. The size of the slums in the New City certainly seemed to give the impression that there was quite a bit of deficit to go around...

"Hey bud! How'bout ya buy some'o my stuff man?"

Argus turned to the shopkeeper that had addressed him. A squat old man with a small grin and scowly face looked at Argus from behind a booth laden with cheap wares. The immediate impression Argus got of the man was that of a short temper...

"No thanks, I don't have any money." Argus said in his most polite tones. Polite Earth tones...

A look of skepticism grew on the shopkeepers face as he leaned forward to look at Argus better. "Where ya from, bud?"

Mind racing, Argus said the first city name that came to mind. "....Istabulopolis."

The shopkeep leaped over his desk with surprising agility and started yelling and raving like a madman. "THIEF! THIEF! EARTHY THERE TOOK MY MONEY!"

Hours later, in retrospect, Argus realized he had made a silly mistake here. Rather than stand his ground and defend himself with diplomacy against this obviously very racist shopkeeper, he turned and ran to try and avoid attracting attention to himself. Which was precisely the way to look immediately suspicious...

Argus ran with most of his might down the crowded street, the shopkeeper keeping surprisingly good pace for his small stature. His voice was the unfortunate type that seemed to be able to echo through any kind of background noise, and thus with his silly red scarf and tall nature managed to catch everyone's attention. With almost a dozen people chasing after him, Argus ran at full-tilt and was starting to outpace them.

Though many still tried to chase him, Argus felt as though he was in the clear once he couldn't hear the initial shopkeepers voice. Just to be on the safe side, however, Argus ducked into a back alley, ran along the wall to a higher height, leaped off and groped madly at a fire escape balcony that was missing its lower ladder. With a painful impact his hands gripped thankfully sturdy metal, and he pulled himself up with just a touch of difficulty. Not his usual finesse, but it got him up higher as planned. He darted up the stairs and to the top of the building.

This is better. Argus noted as he looked around. The architectural nightmare that was the New City had nearly all its buildings extremely close together, which was prime for some good roof hopping.

Overheating from the exertion in his thick hobo jacket, he folded it up and stuffed it into his backpack. He gauged the distance in the gap between the building he was on and the nearest one, took several deep breaths, and took off at a bolt. Gaining speed steadily, he reached the edge, put a foot on the lip of the building, and pushed off with all his force. A scant six feet later the next building edge was, and Argus landed with one foot without incident. He kept his momentum going, tapping into running instincts he hadn't had to use in so long, and relished with joy as he saw a series of buildings that were barely five feet apart from each other. One after the other he leaped, not letting himself slow down for nothing.

When at last he was out of breath, he slowed to a walk and went to the edge of a building that overlooked a large clearing. Breathing heavily but grinning wildly, he looked over the edge to see... The Capitol Building! Instinctually, his brain plotted a route to some government-type structures that sat entirely too near to the Capitol Building, with an easily jumpable gap between them...

Catching his second wind, Argus set off for these buildings. Ten minutes of running later, he was at the gap between an office tower and the roof access of the Capitol Building. It was a much larger gap than he had initially thought... The horizontal distance wasn't the worry. Barely ten feet. It was, however, an almost two storey drop onto a fairly small plateu.

Pah! I've jumped bigger gaps in my time! This won't be a problem!

Argus took his backpack off and tossed it onto the Capitol plateu. A distressing amount of milliseconds later, it landed with a soft thud.

He began his breathing exercises... Deep breaths, calming oxygen, picturing in his head the air going through his system and to his entire body... He started stepping backwards, getting as much distance for the jump as possible. As far back as he could possibly go, he pictured the jump in his head. The angle to run, the best point to jump from, the best way to tuck and roll with the landing...

"I haven't ever seen you make a jump this big. Hope you're up to it."

Argus almost leaped right out of his skin. Somehow, right beside him was Sempai, hands behind her back in a calm manner, a small smile on her lips.

"Jeez maleez, Sempai!" Argus plunked to a sit on the ground, hyperventilating. "How the hell did you get up here!?"

"Same way you did." She pointed with her cane to a different roof hopping path than Argus had took. "There's only a very small amount of people in the Capitol Building right now, thankfully for us, and this seems to be the best way to get in unseen. No camera's at the roof access door."

"Yeah, but..." Argus stood up slowly and with a slight waver. His heart was still racing. "You and I are about the only ones who could make this jump. Lazlo's in good shape, but I haven't ever seen him casually run."

"There's a service access near the back that could allow entry. It has just one guard in that whole area, and I've already snuck in and added liquid exlax to his Red Ox energy drink."

"You carry that kind of stuff around on infiltration missions?" Argus asked with a raised eyebrow.

She smiled. "You've no idea how handy it is."

Argus began his breathing exercises again. "So we're both making this jump?"

"Absolutely! Handsome Industrialists first, though."

"Will ya give that a rest..."

Argus, calm in mind and body at last, started his run. Quickening his pace with each step, he had reached near his maximum speed once the ledge came up. He leaped from the edge lightly and began his descent.

The wind started slow, then rose to a roar in his ears after a maddeningly long-seeming two full seconds of falling. Feet first, he collided with the ground and instinctually curved his shoulder towards the ground and into a roll. His momentum diverted horizontally, he rolled on the rough floor of the roof plateu a few times before coming to a stop in a balled up heap. He came to a crawl and moved aside just as Sempai made a similar but much more graceful landing right beside him.

They both paused for a few minutes to let the air get back into their lungs. Even the unflappable Sempai had to sit and breath to cope from such a daring jump.

"I haven't ever seen you jump like that either, Sempai." Argus said between breaths. The exhaustion from all the roof jumping had suddenly hit him at that moment and he was laying on his back, looking to the foreign Mars sky.

"Oh, in my youth..." Was all she said.

After a few minutes of that, they finally stood up and focused on the door. Sempai was kneeling next to the keypad password entry and inspecting it. From seemingly nowhere, she pulled out a small tookit and had the cover off the keypad. She carefully removed the circuitry from their base, and was looking at the make and type of the electronics.

"I could get this open if I had a laptop..." She muttered under her breath. Argus reached into his backpack and pulled out his Mini Netbook, barely larger than a DS. Her eyes lit up when she was handed this, and quickly got to work on connecting the Minibook to the keypad circuits. Argus waited patiently.

Barely a few minutes later, she let out a quiet "Ah ha!" and the door popped open a tiny bit. Grinning at her success, she unhooked the Minibook, handed it back to Argus, then reassembled the keypad.

"I sure hope our fingerprint data isn't in the Mars mainframe." Argus said quietly as he slipped his backpack back on.

Sempai grinned her usual wolfish way. She pinched her hand, and seemingly lifted a layer of skin up from her hand. "Skin gloves. I never do anything incriminating without'em." She zipped inside the building and was silently dashing down the stairs. Argus descended with considerably less grace, but did try his best to not make noise.

At the bottom of the stairs, there were many branching paths leading to god knows where. Thankfully, there were some directions signs around, and not a soul to be had. He put a finger to his ear, purely out of habit. He sent out a Ralcomm message out and around him. Normally one needed to be in the McQuarrie to have any kind of range with their Ralcomm, but Argus and the heads of the various McQuarrie departments were 'Hub' Ralcomm users, which meant their range was improved, and didn't necesarilly need to be at the McQuarrie to use it. The range that two Hub Ralcomms could communicate between was never thoroughly tested, but estimates were at nearly a kilometer.

Sempai, if you can hear this, I have no idea where you went. I'm trusting you to know where to go, since you've been in here already.

A reply soon came. Just head to the ground floor. Staircase to your right, no one in the way. There's some important looking offices there. I'm already hacking into some computers of theirs.

Just be careful. Argus terminated the connection and headed to his right. True to her word, there was a wide and grand staircase. He quickly and as quietly as he could (not all that quiet at all) down a few floors and came to the ground level.

Not a hundred percent where to go from here, he looked to the signs and saw one that pointed towards the aforementioned offices. He set off quietly.

Glancing at the names that were on the doors of the office, he tried to find one that looked fairly important. John Newell, Criminal Justice. This seems a good place to start. He was about to head into the office when a loudspeaker in the roof above him erupted.

"Hello! I am Miria Harzelle, speaking on behalf of Mistah Imperial Martian Senator Anthius Yevitz."

Uh oh, he sounds important. Where's that broadcast coming from... Argus glanced around and saw a set of large doors ajar in a conference room. He snuck towards it as the voice continued.

"This is a broadcast to warn ya of any suspicious characters or ships in the area."

Argus' heart tightened a little as he tried to look into the conference room from the slightly open door.

"We are on the look out for Lazlo Falco-"

Argus charged into the room out of instinct. He saw an empty conference, save for one shapely woman, who had obviously been doing the talking. He bore down on her threateningly, acting only to quiet her up from saying any more about Lazlo.

Argus felt a sudden sharp impact across his head, and everything turned dark....






The message on the loudspeakers had worried Sempai considerably. Safely hidden in the dim glow of a computer monitor, she darted out from the offices to try and find the source of the broadcast.

When it abruptly ended... And then she was speaking with jubilation. And then... Lazlo's voice? Very curious. She looked down the hallway of offices, saw the ajar door, and headed towards it with the silence of a creeping cat.

Someone coming... She darted into an open office. Someone who exuded authority from his every motion came to the conference room. He stood at the frame of the door, looking quite livid. The ensuing conversation was difficult to hear, but it seemed as though Lazlo wasn't in as much trouble as initially expected... Knowing Yevitz's attention was entirely focused on the conference room, Sempai snuck out of her hiding office and crept silently into one right across the hall from the conference room door. When Yevitz walked off, then Miria and Lazlo, Senmpai peeked her head out slightly from her hiding place, just so Lazlo could see her, then winked, smiled, and put a finger to her lips to signify silence. Lazlo knew he wasn't alone here.















God knows how much later, Argus awoke to a splitting headache. What had happene-OHCRAP THE LAZLO BROADCAST.

He stumbled to his feet, failing a couple times, but managed to start heading for what he hoped was the direction of the ship. He started sending off messages to whoever had a Ralcomm nearby.

Argus here, I'm heading to the ship! They know Lazlo's here, and they're looking for him. We need to find him and get him off-planet soon as possible!

A calm reply came almost instantly. It was Sempai. Don't worry about it, Swift. He's not in as much trouble as we thought. I'm hidden in the building still, Lazlo knows I'm here. you get to the ship and start it up. We may need a very quick escape.

Uh... Okay! I can do that!

With a bit more of a collected and calm mind than before, Argus set off at a casual-looking jog towards the ship they had rode in on.

Miria trudged away from Yevitz’ office with Lazlo close behind. She looked sadly at the beautiful floors and ornate wall hangings, knowing it would be quite a while until she would be allowed to return. She had trouble believing that she was really on probation; what had she done wrong? She had made a simple mistake by blabbing in front of the broadcast. And it wasn’t much of a mistake anyway, since technically this mistake was that she didn’t lie to suit Yevitz’ lust to detain Lazlo. She spared a glance over her shoulder at Lazlo, who was looking straight ahead and seemed oblivious to her attention. His lips were drawn into a thin line, his brows knit slightly, and he was walking in a somewhat hurried pace. Despite this, he was surprisingly handsome, though in a roguish way. He didn’t look like someone who deserved to be demonized on Mars like he had been. The Senate portrayed him as a vicious criminal, when he had in fact stopped what seemed to be a legitimate vicious criminal from assaulting her. Looks could be deceiving, however, and she intended to monitor him closely just as she had been instructed.

Leading the way to the grand front entrance of the Senate building, she stopped awkwardly when Lazlo shouldered by her and gratefully out the doors as they slid open. He seemed visibly relieved to be out of the building, and also terribly burdened. Miria couldn’t say she could blame him; she could relate to his frustration of being put on probation. Wincing at the brightness, Miria sighed and brought her hand up to shield her eyes. She looked at Lazlo, who had slipped his sunglasses on and was pushing buttons on the device on his wrist. He brought it a bit closer to his face than waist level, then spoke into it clearly.

“Antha, it’s Lazlo. Is the ship ready?”

In a few short seconds, Lazlo’s Ralcomm buzzed to life with a female voice. “Yep, everything’s ready to go. Swift and Sempai are on their way to the ship.”

“I’m on my way as well. See you soon.”

Swift? That name sounded familiar. Miria looked at Lazlo skeptically. “Who were you talking to? And where are we goin’? You’re on probation, Mistah L. Ya may as well just stay on Mars so I can keep an eye on ya.”

Lazlo scowled at her. “I’m not staying on Mars. If you’re determined to follow your orders, you’ll come with me like Yevitz suggested.” He started down the staircase in front of the Senate building, then stopped and turned back to look at her. “Unless of course, you’d rather just leave me be since you and I both know I’ve got no charges on me. So does the rest of Mars, thanks to you. No one would think anything of it if you let me go on my merry way.”

Miria didn’t miss the tones of hopefulness in his statement. Shaking her head and following him down the stairs, she shot him a small scowl of her own and turned her nose up indignantly. “I don’t think so, bustah. Mistah Yevitz has deemed ya untrustworthy. I’m gonna make sure ya don’t do anything else to get yaself in trouble. You’re on thin ice, ya know. Although ya may have gotten away with just probation this time, it’s no secret that you have broken Martian laws in the past.”

Lazlo looked at her blankly, seeing she was going to be difficult, and continued down the stairs. Miria bounced along behind him, passing him, and crossing the street when the staircase ended. Once there, she turned and waited patiently for him, then headed to her right down the street. After she had walked a couple yards, she realized she didn’t hear his footsteps following her. She looked over her shoulder slowly, fearing that he had ran away from her and that she would be in for the biggest display of Yevitz’ wrath that she could possibly imagine. However, she did see him. He was standing a ways back, fidgeting and pacing around slightly. Miria turned fully to face him, wondering what was bothering him. Just as she was about to call to him, he seemed to steel his resolve and jogged up to her.

“Where are you going? The ships this way!” He pointed behind him.

Miria looked at him incredulously. “We’ve gotta go to my apartment first! I’m not gonna just zoom away with ya just like that, I gotta get some things!”

“How far is it? Someone can loan you clothes at the station. I really don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary...” He groaned.

“It’s just down the street here, real close. C’mon Mistah L, quit yer stallin’.” Miria grabbed his arm roughly and dragged him down the street with her.

The streets were bustling. Miria had gotten used to the busyness of New Constantinopolis, so she thought nothing of the suspicious glances shes earned as she towed Lazlo behind her. The buildings were new and pristine looking, making the sparse landscaping and and scrubby plants look pathetic. The road was made of staggered red bricks, making the heat of Mars and the red tones of everything more exaggerated. While she could appreciate how someone could find this place fascinating or even beautiful, Mars just seemed desolate to Miria, despite the population and commotion that came with an average day.

Coming upon a tall gray building with rows of windows, she pulled him unceremoniously through the doors into a plainly decorated lobby. Miria pushed a button next to the cylindrical glass elevator, then stepped into it with him when it arrived at their level. She pushed the 4 button, then watched patiently as the empty hallways of the 3 floors before hers glided by.

When the doors slid open, she stepped out into the small dimly lit hallway that was lined with doors and fake potted plants.

“Right this way!” Miria chirped. She led Lazlo to her door, then turned to him. “Turn around, this is private!” She pushed at his shoulders until he turned, ignoring his quiet mutterings about bossy women, then quickly punched in her access code on the keypad mounted next to her door. A green light flicked on, and her door opened.

They entered into the small living room, which had a small tiled area directly to the right with typical cooking appliances. Directly to the left of the kitchen, a short hallway extended to the right, which contained a bedroom and lavatory. The main part of the room had only a desk with a plain, uncomfortable looking chair pushed under it, and a monitor embedded in the wall, which looked tiny in the emptiness. The window had only a white shade, and everything was stark and plain.

Lazlo looked around. “Not much for decorating, huh?”

Miria looked around herself. “I’m not from around here. This is just the stuff that was here when I moved in. I’m usually so busy running errands for Mistah Yevitz, I’m hardly ever here...”

Lazlo nodded, then leaned against one of the barren walls, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, get your crap, then. And be fast about it, I have people waiting on me.”

“Okay, okay. I just gotta pack some clothes.” She pranced down the hallway and out of sight.

She pulled a small bag out of her closet, opened and set it on the bed, then walked to her small bureau in the corner of her bedroom. She flung the drawers open, then began wildly tossing all of her clothing over her head and behind her, where they landed messily her bed and the floor. Once the bureau and closet were empty, she turned and began re-folding everything neatly and tucking it into her bag.

Smiling to herself, Miria raised her voice enough that he could hear her in her living room. “Golly, Mistah L. I’m really very thankful for ya helping me today.” She zipped her bag and hauled it through the door and down the hallway, then set it by the door. Turning to face Lazlo, she punched dramatically into the air a couple feet from his head. “When you punched that guy... whoa! You were like a super hero! Truly! Ya showed him what for! Pow, right in the kissah! Whatta hero you are!”

Lazlo smilrked at her a little. “You’re welcome.” He walked to her door and hefted her bag over his shoulder. “I hope this is all, because I’m not waiting anymore.”

“That’s it! Wow, what a gentleman, Mistah L.” She said as he opened the door and continued to carry her bag. After exiting the building, Lazlo looked down the street the opposite way they had come. Miria remembered he had said that was the direction his ship was in, and before she could require where exactly, Lazlo looked down at her.

“Hey, how far are we from the big landing pad near the middle of the city?”

“Oh, um, it’s about 20 minutes walk that way.” She pointed towards where the city started to thin out and greater areas were designated for commerce.

Seeming satisfied with this, Lazlo set her bag down on the sidewalk and fussed with his wrist device. After a moment, he spoke into it.

“Antha, it’s Lazlo. I need you to bring the ship to the landing pad. Do you know where it is?”

The female from earlier responded quickly. “Of course I do, I’ve delivered cargo to it before. Is everything okay, Laz? We’ve been getting worried. Everyone’s back, and we expected you some time ago.”

“Everything is fine, I had to make a stop. I’ll meet you at the pad.”

They walked companionably to the pad, and Lazlo was pleased to see the ship there when they arrived. Miria was surprised to see a cargo ship of some sort. She looked at him curiously. “Is this really your ship? I can’t imagine big super hero battles and excitin’ escapes in this ol’ thing...”

“No no, this is a friend of mine’s. That girl I was speaking to before.” Lazlo replied dismissively.

Once inside, Lazlo removed his sunglasses while Miria surveyed the cabin and the people occupying it. There was an older man and woman sitting to one side, looking scholarly and intimidating respectively. Coming away from the control panel was a young woman with long brown hair and a pretty face. There was also a balding man with a wise face. Speaking first, he walked up to Lazlo and Miria as the loading door closed behind them.

“Taking prisoners, Lazlo? I wasn’t aware it was that sort of mission.” He slapped a large hand on his friend’s shoulder.

Miria looked at Lazlo, who looked back at her a bit grudgingly. He quickly recovered, however, and motioned her forward. “This is Miria Harzelle. Yevitz has sent her to monitor me while I’m on probation, so she’ll be coming with us. Miria, this man is Richard Chronnister. He’s in charge of operations.”

Miria nodded in his direction. “How do ya do?”

Chronnister smiled a bit and nodded back, but then focused his attention on Lazlo once again. “Probation? On what charges? Swift had said that it had been publicly revealed by some woman that they had nothing to hold you for.”

Lazlo groaned and rubbed his eyes. “I would prefer not to discuss it, if that’s all right. I just want to get away from Mars.”

The young woman seemed to take that as a cue. “We’ll be off, then. I’m Antha, by the way. Pleased to have you aboard.” She came forward and shook Miria’s hand with a kind smile, a gesture Miria recognized as an Earth greeting, then left and settled herself at the ship’s helm.

Lazlo then pointed towards the older couple. “That’s Magellan, our leading science advisor. And that woman is Sempai, our cook, among other things.”

They each muttered greetings and Sempai offered a small wave. Miria returned it and bowed slightly. “Nice to meetcha! Your friends don’t seem all that bad, Lazlo. Certainly not the kind to be shelterin’ some miscreant in between his daring space raids!”

A small chuckle echoed from a darker corner of the cabin, which caught the attention of everyone. “We enjoy helping his daring space raids, which would explain why we’re all here!” The speaker stepped forward into the light dramatically.

Miria’s eyes widened as she yelped, then flung herself into Lazlo’s side, gripping him closely. “It’s that hooligan! He’s after me again! Oooh, my numbuh’s up this time! You’ve gotta help me, Mistah L, I’m too young to die!” Swallowing loudly, she turned to the man and shook her fist at him threateningly. “You’d better watch it bub, or else I’ll get Mistah L here to clean your clock again!”

Miria released her hold on Lazlo, then slid behind him, peeking out from around his arm. She was alarmed when, instead of charging her assailant, Lazlo laughed instead. “Oh, I would love to clean his clock again.”

The criminal rubbed his head and laughed a bit halfheartedly. “You’ve quite the hook there, Laz. I wish you’d pay more attention to who you were swinging it at, however...”

Lazlo made to reply, but Miria stepped forward and interjected. “Mistah L, you know this creep?!” She motioned to him wildly, as if Lazlo may not know who was in question. The man smiled at her sheepishly, and in a comedic fashion, Lazlo smiled quite wolfishly, obviously enjoying the situation.

Miria started as the engines turned on and the ship began to hum to life. Raising his voice a bit, Lazlo began walking to a seat. “Know him? Of course! This is the one and only Argus Swift, leader of McQuarrie. Coincidentally, we’re on our way to his space station, where you’ll be residing until Yevitz is damn good and ready to have this probation called off.”

Miria now recognized his name in full context, and could only stare incredulously as Swift bowed enthusiastically before her.

The occupants on board sat down and strapped themselves into their seats as the ship’s engines whirred to life. There were no windows or viewports in the cargo compartment, but from the cockpit Antha watched as the city began to shrink below her. The vast Tharsis savanna sprawled out beyond it, with it’s sparse population of scraggly bushes, rolling mounds and water-filled craters. If she had been paying attention she would have seen the large lake filling the caldera of Olympus Mons, and the spattering of small settlements around it.

She was more focused on the large wooded area to the south of the mountain. On Mars it was called the Daedalia Forest, but to an Earth girl it didn’t seem like much of a forest. Barely the size of Arsia Mons, with short spindly trees with few leaves. It was was the largest collection of plantlife on the planet, but she couldn’t see anyone wandering through it with the feeling of wonder one had in the forests on Earth. But it did make her miss her home planet. Living in space for years at a time made one appreciate nature.

Once they reached an altitude of 80 kilometers, the passengers unbuckled their restraints and began to move about. Richard Chronnister, in the co-pilot seat, watched yearningly as his home planet shrank away from him. When he first left the planet to seek out a life free of the military savageness so rampant on Mars he thought he would never feel any emotion for this dusty rock, but as the years wore on, and he grew older, his heart began to ache for a time when he called this place home.

With Antha’s fast ship, and Mars and Venus near their closest approach, the trip back to McQuarrie would only take a couple days. A good amount of time to rest and relax from their short adventure. After a few hours, everyone gathered at a large, undelivered crate they would use as a table for supper. Although everyone gathered here were good friends, excluding Miria, they rarely had opportunity to dine together, each typically being busy with their duties on McQuarrie and elsewhere.

The whole group had a million questions for Lazlo and Miria, which were answered by a short recap of the events that had transpired earlier that day. Miria was surprised at how friendly everyone was, since she WAS working for the opposite team, but those around her could easily see her good nature. Still uneasy about this group of people, she felt inclined to ask, “So we’re headin’ to McQuarrie now?”

Chronnister nodded, saying, “Back to home, hopefully Minion hasn’t messed things up too seriously!”

Argus entered the room, carrying a large plate full of vacuum-sealed SpacePak™ Brand meals-for-spacefarers, and wearing a large, pink “kiss the cook” apron, said, “Heh, I’m sure it’s normal operations down at the station.”

Miria turned to Lazlo, “But what will ya do now, Mistah L? ‘Normal operations’ doesn’t sound like a very good use of a hero’s time.”

Lazlo laughed, “I wouldn’t worry about that, usually as soon as we get back from one zany adventure, something incredible is already waiting for us.” He would soon regret those words.

---

On the Command Centre of McQuarrie, Elizabeth Cutler stomped from the operations terminal back to the command seat in the center of the room. Her hair was a wild mess held in a loose ponytail, she had large bags under her eyes and her dark teal uniform was wrinkled and stained. She plopped down in the seat and let out an exhausted sigh. “Billy, if Commander Chronnister ever gets back, remind me to never let him put me in charge again.”

Billy, sitting at the External Surveillance terminal, instead of his usual seat at Communications, chuckled, “How about next time, we just agree to not let anybody on the station?” He was in as poor a condition as Elizabeth, his hair matted to his forehead from old, dried-on sweat. He had taken his blouse off sometime during the night, revealing the grey T-shirt underneath, stained at the armpits.

Elizabeth slouched in her seat, her eyes closed and her brow furled. She just wanted to sleep. The first case of the illness had come on about nine hours after Argus had left the station. A low-grade fever with chills. It seemed like a normal cold at first. Then a few more crew members had reported symptoms, and within 24 hours, fevers were running rampant. They weren’t certain who had brought the contagion aboard, but they knew it was a strain of influenza. Now, six days later, most of the crew were bedridden.

When most of the second shift on the Command Centre came down with the virus, she had ordered the Command Centre sealed off, and that all non-essential station operations would halt immediately. Unfortunately, with so many people getting sick, having nobody in the Command Centre made it difficult to keep track of everything that was happening, so she took the only other command staff member who hadn’t come down with it in to maintain the station. She and Billy Hart used the computer stations there to keep in touch with the leaders of the various divisions within McQuarrie. But as the illness spread, they found fewer people reporting in, and eventually were controlling nearly everything from their quarantined location.

She opened her eyes to see the lights had dimmed slightly, signifying the “night cycle” on McQuarrie. “How long was I out?” She asked Billy, then noticed he had collapsed on the keyboard in front of him. She groaned a bit as she stood up, then dragged her feet to the communications terminal, sitting down with all the grace of a rhinoceros. There were several missed messages, mostly automated responses from the Medical Station stating that more crewmen had acquired the virus.

There was a buzzing on the External Surveillance terminal, which woke Billy, who rubbed his forehead a bit and blinked as he attempted to shake off his tiredness. He looked down at the computer before him, “Bogey on course for the station, bearing oh-nine-three mark one-one. ETA is three hours.”

She looked down at her console expectantly, and still jumped when it began to beep, “Incoming IDENT frequency... EIS Tura, from Earth. No transmissions yet.”

Billy nodded as information about the ship began pouring onto his console. “Minimal weaponry, it seems to be a small ferry.”

“Fantastic,” Elizabeth said with a sigh, “What a great time for tourists.” She tapped a series of commands into the terminal, then put on the headset attached to it, “EIS Tura, this is VOS ‘McQuarrie’, please respond.”

She waited for a moment before the ship greeted her, “VOS McQuarrie this is the Tura, you sound awful! Er--requesting docking clearance.”

Elizabeth shot a look at Billy that would make a bulldozer quiver, “Negative, McQuarrie is under quarantine under Space Faring Regulation 22-23. Docking clearance denied.”

She was about to take the headset off, when the voice responded, “That’s why we’re here. We’ve got a virologist here who has been in contact with some of your medical personnel. We believe we have a cure!”

“Really, now...” She muttered to herself, then said aloud, “Alright, but you know that if you come aboard you can’t leave until the virus is eradicated. Maintain your current course, and we’ll set you down in Docking Bay 2. McQuarrie out.” She looked over to Billy, with a small grin crossing her lips. “I think it may be over.”

He smiled, nodding slightly. He ran his fingers through his hair then laughed.

---

Miria rolled uncomfortably on her cot. Lazlo had given her the one he was using, and taken up sleeping on the floor. She didn’t know how anyone slept in space, with the loud rumbling of the ship’s internal mechanisms, and the constant whirring of the oxygen scrubbers. At least they had kept the artificial gravity on. Often, smaller ships turned the gravity off at night or didn’t have them all together to conserve energy, and she always sicked up when trying to sleep in zero gravity.

She sat up and walked to the cockpit, watching the stars in front of the ship. She turned around as she heard footsteps behind her, and saw Richard Chronnister walking up to her. “That’s some accent you’ve got there,” he said, “Definitely not from Mars... And yet you work at the Senate. How did that happen?”

She smiled, “I get that a lot, Mistah McChronnister. I’m one of those, whaddaya call ‘em? ‘Space born’? You prob’ly never heard a’ the place I’m from though.”

He shook his head, “No, probably not. There are too many independent colonies out there these days. Was it a nice place?”

Turning back to to the cockpit, she said, “Not really. It’s out past Neptune, a real downer.”

“Wow, way out in the darkness. Is it still as bad as it was during the War?”

Miria shook her head, “Nah, it’s gettin’ bettah. But there’s still a lot of pirates. That’s why I came t’ Mars. But I never really fit in there.”

Chronnister put his hand on her shoulder, “Well, Mars is hard on outsiders like that. But maybe you’ll have an easier time at McQuarrie.”

She turned around and scowled playfully, “Now, now, Mistah McChronnister, I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to keep Mistah L in line. He’s on probation ya know, but when his probation is lifted, I’m goin’ right back home. So don’t ya go getting any funny ideas, or I’ll have Mistah L rough ya up just like that Swift miscreant!”

Chronnister laughed and turned away, “Alright ‘Miss Harzelle’, have it your way. I’m gonna go get some sleep.”

Miria turned back to the window, watching the stars again. The Martians may not have trusted her, but at least they were better than residents of Valhalla, the large SeaWolves SeaSpace Space Base. The largest band of interplanetary terrorists in the solar system, they were known for ruthless attacks on small colonies in the outer solar system, and occasionally attacking mining operations in the asteroid belt. She rarely told anyone that she was from Valhalla, for fear they would mistake her for a SeaWolf and have her imprisioned, or worse...

---

Elizabeth watched the console wearily. The screen showed the Medical Station, where a large mechanical humanoid was directing a number of men and women in biohazard suits around gurneys with numerous people sitting or laying on them, all in varied states of consciousness. The cyborg, named Ratchet, was perfect for the job, especially with such a large epidemic striking the station. Colored red and white, with a red cross on each shoulder to signify his position as a medic, he was focused and highly analytical.

He glanced at the communication terminal Elizabeth was watching him from, then ran over to it, “I’ve been in contact with that virologist who claims he can help us. His name’s Grigori and he says he’s been monitoring our condition since he was alerted of it. I’ve been in contact with him for a few days, but I didn’t know he was coming here.”

Elizabeth nodded, “Well his ship just docked with the station, he should be on his way any minute now. Has he told you anything about his solution?”

Ratchet looked over his shoulder as a loud clattering came from behind him, “Be careful with that!” He looked back at the screen, “Well, no, not really. In fact, he hasn’t even mentioned it to me yet. Maybe he wanted to keep it a secret until he could get here and study the virus in person?”

The theory made sense, why would he want to get the crew’s hopes up when he didn’t even fully know what he was up against, “Okay, well keep me apprised of the situation, and let me know the moment any breakthrough is made.”

The Mechano-man nodded, an awkward gesture for one built without a neck, and the screen went blank, being replaced with the Station McQuarrie logo. Elizabeth sat at the computer for a few minutes, trying to capture her thoughts, when the alarm on Billy’s monitor went off again, signifying a new ship. “Oh, what now?” She moaned, then saw the IDENT on her screen, “Oh Billy! It’s them! Swift and Chronnister! They’re on their way back!”

Billy smiled, “Good, maybe now we can get some sleep!”