Episode 1: Some relief
System: Rhetor
Planet: Mentor (Rhetor IV)
Year: 2938


With a yawn and a stretch the space traffic controller reaches across his control board to silence the "ALERT incoming hail" alarm. It's late into the night, his shift is almost over. A storm is raging outside. Blowing rain is pounding against the surrounding windows. Reading the monitor he groans, "Damn it."

Traffic transfer: Mentor Space traffic controller to Rhetor Torreele FoodStuffs Control Tower: freighter : CFZ 32983 : Starfarer in bound: Arrival Time: 22:00 local : Status delayed 7hrs 14min

Now he's going to have to wake a service ground crew. Wake a crew to unload the freighter. And they're not going to be happy. Normally they're not happy people, but to be woken up on a night like tonight... Turning he crooks his head to look up into the night sky. "Can't see a damn thing" he said. He's not looking forward to going down and waking them up. "Damn it." Rubbing his eyes he takes another look at his display screen. Keys up his mic "charlie foxtrot zulu 329er 83, this is Rhetor Torreele FoodStuffs Control Tower, you're late. You're seven hours off your filed flight plan."

A soft female voice replied "Rhetor Torreele FoodStuffs Control Tower, this is charlie foxtrot zulu 329er 83. In orbit, on approach, requesting landing clearance."

"charlie foxtrot zulu 329er 83 hold on approach. Slow and hold. I need to wake the crews."

"Rhetor Torreele FoodStuffs Control Tower negative" she said. "Is there any way I can just land and park it? Can we deal with the rest tomorrow?"

"charlie foxtrot zulu 329er 83 say again?"

"Rhetor Torreele FoodStuffs Control Tower it's been a very rough trip. This is the copilot. The pilot is laid out sick in the back." She makes a motion with one hand in the direction behind her. "Food poisoning or an allergenic recitation to something he ate. Hell I don't know." She takes in a breath of air. "Midway through the system this P.O.S. of an excuse for a ship breaks downs. Somehow I've managed to patch it back together. It's been so stressful to make it this far all alone. I really want to park this thing and get a drink."

"charlie foxtrot zulu 329er 83 uhmm. I'm not sure."

"Rhetor Torreele FoodStuffs Control Tower. I can't stress how bad of day I've had. I could use a break." Under her breath, still transmitting, "I really need someone to take me out for a good time."

"charlie foxtrot zulu 329er 83 uhmmm. yes. Sure. You're cleared for approach, transmitting the approach vectors.

"Rhetor Torreele FoodStuffs Control Tower thanks. You really don't know how much this means to me." She hesitates still transmitting, "this is my first time on Mentor. I'm not in the mood to go off exploring by myself. Does your shift end soon?"


. . .

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. . .

In the cargo hold of Starfarer "charlie foxtrot zulu 329er 83" sits rows of marine paratroopers. Gone are the crates of Torreele FoodStuffs products that were there seven hours earlier. In full battle gear they wait. Sitting in jump seats temporally rigged within the Starfarer's cargo hold. Everyone keep pretty much to themselves. A few talked quietly. Others sit focusing on the mission at hand. A few are checking over gear. And a few are snoring as they sleep.

Mal sits in a jump set restless, unable to relax. He's feeling nervous, excited, and surprisingly a little scared. Closing his eyes he makes another attempt to force his body to relax. Words of his drill instructor sound off in his head, just focus on the mission. Mal was warned he would feel this way. But knowing how he would feel doesn’t help much. He needs to focus. He needs to relax. Mal clears his head recalling the mission details. He reads though the mission brief he memorized.

Situation: We need to eat. Our scouts have discovered a Torreele FoodStuffs warehouse on Rhetor IV.

Intel: The warehouse is part of a complex which includes a distribution center, support buildings, and a space port. The complex is under construction, is not fully functional, and has no security systems in place. Security is being handle by an off world contract company. Different sections of the complex are in different stages of construction. The warehouse is structurally complete, has minimal power for lights, doors, and very few other systems are online. The space port is completed and working. The remaining buildings are barely useable. Portable Housing pods have been brought in for the security personal, construction workers, a skeleton crew to run the space port, and others. The warehouse is roughly 40% full of food stuffs and more importantly, a small fleet of ships are parked in the space port.

Overview: Raid complex. Take control of space port, warehouse, and housing pods. Commandeer parked ships. Empty the warehouse loading food into commandeered ships. Transport food off planet. Return home.

Execution: Squads will be loaded into the cargo hold of a Starfarer. Squads will deploy above the complex. Proceed to their designated targets. Complete their assigned tasks. Hold until the evacuate order is given.

Exit: The Black Sheep squadron will launch an attack on the planet space control station using their Vanduul fighters. This diversion should cause enough panic and chaos to keep the locals busy and sufficient reason to allow all the ships to leave the planet unabated.

Mission details: Acquisition squad: 2nd Company Delta: Phase 1, commandeer target destined Freelancer-MAX-4. Report completion of phase 1 to command. Phase 2 move ship to loading bay (specific location to be determined at time of mission), fill ship's cargo bay. Report completion of phase 2 to command. Phase 3 hold for evacuation order. On receipt of evacuation order, launch, leave planet, and proceed to exit jump point, then on to home.

Weather: Night. Overcast, thick clouds cover. Rain likely. High probability of thunder storms.

Ammo: Red lethal. Blue non-lethal.

Everything inside the cargo hold starts vibrating as the Starfarer enters into the planet's atmosphere. Mal opens his eyes. He feels the pull of gravity increase. The vibration is getting worst. The noise level rises. Atmosphere is rushing past the ship. The noise level is deafening. Like everyone else Mal puts on his helm. Locks it into place then closes the visor. The noise level drops down to steady background hum.

As the ship plows through atmosphere the shaking keeps increasing and increasing. Mal not sure it will ever end. He wonders how any cargo survives atmosphere re-entry in an old ship like this without any state of the art shock resisters or anti-vibration damping systems. Mal tries to steady himself grabbing onto the poles mounted from floor to ceiling in front of him. From the weather report the ride was not going to get any better. His mission called for him to deploy in the middle of a thunder storm. He eyes the barf bag. He fights down the urge to hurl. The ship suddenly jerks to the left about 6 meters, then drops 8 meters straight down. His stomach turns upside.

Mal feels the ship slowing down. Leveling out the vibrations subside, now the ship bounces as it moves straight and as level as the weather allows. A yellow light starts flash. Everyone stands up and turns to face the rear of the ship. Checking over his gear Mal goes over every piece of gear he has. His rife is the last piece he checks. Confirming blue ammo is loaded into his assault rifle and the safety is on, he slings the rifle onto his back. The ship leaps upwards. Grabbing to rigging of the jump seats Mal steadies himself as the ship drops a few meter and twist ten degrees clockwise.

In the crowd Mal stands with his squad. A four man team called the Sasquatches. From the rear of the ship they are lined up in order. Sasquatch 1, the squad leader, Philip Slaugherback, is simply known as Slaugherback. A giant man, dark olive skin covered in thick black hair, an ex-UEE Marine NCO. He was not much for socializing, keeps mostly to himself, an all business no small talk sort of man. Behind Sasquatch 1 is Sasquatch 2, Tomas Thatcher also an ex-UEE Marine. His appearance is that of an average guy. Average height, average build, there is nothing extra ordinary about him. He's a normal guy you might find living in the apartment next door or a typical friend down in your local pub. To look at him you would never guess that he's a natural born killer. He does not think when he fights. He reacts, reacts solely on instinct, animal instincts. The instincts of a wild animal that doesn't need to be taught to kill, it just does it. Tomas's military combat training didn't improve his skills. The military fine tune what came naturally. Mal stood third Sasquatch 3, the pilot of the group. Behind Mal is Sasquatch 4, Frank Kimm the flight engineer and hacker. No military experience, just street smarts. Brilliant mechanic and gifted hacker Frank spent some time in and out of the UEE correctional system. He had a run of bad luck after trying to impress a girl by stealing a hover belonging to a city prosecutor. Not knowing it at the time, that girl just happened to be the prosecutor's daughter. Together the four formed a team whose primary skill is acquiring ships, specifically Freelancers.

The flashing light changes to red. A few seconds later the rear panel of the cargo hold opens up. The ship begins to shake more violently. The crowd shuffles towards the rear of the ship. One by one the paratroopers begin to fall into the night. Mal approaches the open night sky. Without a pause he steps into dark murk of the raining night sky.

Mal always liked the sensation of falling. There was nothing more peaceful to him. Even on a night like tonight. The dark storm clouds, the rain pounding, the wind gusting, and no visibility.

There's a Lighting flash. Glimpses of bodies ahead of him appear and then they are gone. In darkness again he has no sense of anything. Not up, not down or how high he is off the ground. The HUD of his helm comes to life with the words "acquiring satellites" flashing in yellow letters. Mal hopes the combat satellites got deployed. Otherwise he knows this is going to be a quick mission ending with a splat when they all hit the ground. The words fade away. Two cyan colored triangles and a curved line of blue colored triangle growing smaller as they fall off into the distance materialized in front of him. Mal feels relief switching on the surface mapping. Far below he can see the landscape of the ground as contour lines are marking out the hills and valleys, rivers and lakes. An active primary target indicator is pointing towards his primary target. Mal adds a wireframe overlay model of the Torreele FoodStuffs complex on to the map. Off into the distant he now can see the landing pads and control tower the indicator is pointing at. In the corner of the HUD Mal read off his altitude and speed, 6832 meters and falling at 207 kph. Mal stretches out rotating flat with the ground. His speed slows to 192 kph.

The line of blue triangles is breaking up, moving to into groups of four. Mal sees Sasquatch 1 and 2 are slowing. He leans in the direction towards them. His body armor hums as tiny electric motor extends and retracts the flight control surfaces of the suit. Turning Mal adjusts to intercept the other two.


. . .

At 1600 meters the Sasquatches are falling in a loose formation towards the ground at 190 kph. "Got four on thermal two port two starboard around target ship" Sasquatch 1 said. Mal sees 4 faint red thermal blurs as four new red triangles appear on his HUD labeled, alpha, beta, charlie, and delta.

"Confirmed" Sasquatch 2 said.
"Confirmed" Sasquatch 3 said.
"Got them" Sasquatch 4 said.

"Land port side of target ship, take down alpha beta, move clockwise around to starboard. Take down charile delta." Sasquatch 1 said.

"Copy" Sasquatch 2 said.
"Copy" Sasquatch 3 said.
"Copy" Sasquatch 4 said.

"I want staggered abreast formation 3 2 1 from ship outward, 4 cover rear.

"Copy" Sasquatch 2 said.
"Copy" Sasquatch 3 said.
"Copy" Sasquatch 4 said.

At 360 meters and falling, "landing sequence initiated" flashes at the top of Mal's HUD. "Air brake" flashes as all the flight control surfaces of this suit open against the wind rushing past. Mal feels the drag forces slowing him down, 180 kph, 300 meters 1710 kph, 250 meters 166 kph, 210 meters 164 kph, 180 meters 164 kph. "Deploying parachute" Mal bracing himself feels the pull of the chute as his head and feet switched locations. 150 meters 90 kph, 50 meters 45 kph 20 meters 30 kph, 5 meters 28 kph. 2 meters 23 kph "retracting parachute" flashes at the top of Mal's HUD. The suit fights to reel in the parachute. Mal hits the ground and rolls. On his feet he starts a bent knee slow walk. Wind and rain beat hard onto his visor. Lifting his rife he aims at Beta. Both Alpha and Beta drop to the ground before Mal gets the shot off. Sasquatch 2 grows "don't hesitate. You're too slow."

Together the team moves clockwise around the front of the Freelance. Mal sights delta pulls the trigger as charle and delta fall to the ground. Mal shot misses passing over delta's shoulder has he fell.

Sasquatch 2 growls "better, you're still to fucking slow."

"Take positions" Sasquatch 1 said.

Mal moves to the rear of the Freenlancer. Just under the cargo hatch he takes a knee and starts scanning aft. Sasquatch 1 moves to under the nose of the Freelancer. Takes a knee and starts scanning forward. Sasquatch 2 moves to bind up alpha and beta's hands and feet. Sasquatch 4 moves to bind up charlie and delta's hands and feet. A moment later Sasquatch 2 and 4 met at the front landing gear of the Freelance. Sasquatch 2 Takes a knee and starts scanning. Sasquatch 4 goes to work to open the front hatch of the Freelancer.

Mal looks at alpha and beta. Slaughterback specifically told him "don't look at any bodies once they are down. Unless they move, then shoot them again." But he did it anyway. Mal feels pity for them. Feels a little sorry for what just happen to them. They are as Slaughterback said they would be. No body armor, no protection but a thin uniform under thin plastic rain gear. No real weapons, no thermal imaging. They carried only a flash light, a set of cuffs, a bottle of chemical deterrent pepper spray, and an electroshock pistol. They didn't see anyone coming. Didn't know what hit them, didn't have a chance. They were down before they knew what was happening. Now they lay in the rain, hand tied behind their back, feet bound together. Lying face down head tilted to one side.

"It's open." Sasquatch 4 said.
"Going in" Sasquatch 2 said. Ten seconds later, "Froward clear" then a few seconds of silence, "mid clear" silence "cargo hold clear opening rear hatch."

Mal steps to his side to avoid the lowering rear hatch of the Freelancer. "On station aft," Sasquatch 2 said walking down the ramp.

"Going in" Sasquatch 4 said.

Mal scans the tarmac. Sasquatch 4 is inside hacking the Freelancer to get the systems online. Waiting Mal's eyes drift back to alpha and beta. Don't dwel on it Mal tells himself. Mal returns to scanning the tarmac. Mal hears deep rumbling as the Freelancer comes to life.

"Bingo. We have a heartbeat" Sasquatch 4 said.

"Going in" Mal said heading up the ramp. Moving through the ship Mal raises his visor. Removes his gloves and attaches them to the side of his suit. Dropping down into the left seat Mal starts reviewing the status to the ship. "Power plant online, status is green. Engines online, status is green. Primary systems online, status is green. Secondary systems online, status is green. Weapons online, status is green. Shields online status is green. We are good to go." Mal activate the command coms channel "Command, Sasquatch 3 Phase 1 complete."

"Sasquatch 3, Command acknowledged. Hold."

"Command, Sasquatch 3 holding."

Muting from the command coms channel Mal transmits to the squad "all in. Secure the doors for takeoff."

"Copy, 2 take turret" Sasquatch 1 said.

"Copy" Sasquatch 2 said.

Mal listens to the command channel. The chatter is increasing as more and more of the squads complete phase 1 of the mission. Mal pipes the command chatter through the ships speakers. Sasquatch 1 sits down into the seat behind him.

"Command, Hellcat 3 phase 1 complete."
"Hellcat 3, Command acknowledged. Hold."
"Command, Grizzly 3 phase 1 complete."
"Grizzly 3, Command acknowledged. Hold."
A female voice "Command, Panther 1 Control tower secured."
"Panther 1, Command acknowledged."
"Command, Moose 3 phase 1 complete."
"Moose 3, Command acknowledged. Hold."

Sasquatch 4 plops into the right seat. "Hell of a night to be flying." Leaning forward he moves his face closer the window. Blowing rain drops are pounding against the windows. "Can't see a damn thing, nothing at all" he said.

"Command, Ridgeback 1 Personal pods secured."
"Ridgeback 1, Command acknowledged."
"Command, Warthog 1 warehouse secured."
"Warthog 1, Command acknowledged."
"Command, Razorback 3 phase 1 complete."
"Razorback 3, Command acknowledged. Hold. All squads are confirmed. Phase 1 complete. Begin phase 2. All squads hold for instructions from Tower Control. "

"Command, Tower Control has the ball. Let there be light." Blue lights flicker. Brightening blue outlines of taxiway appear. White lights flicker. Illuminated landing pads pops from out of the darkness. "Grizzly 3, Tower Control, taxi Roger Alpha to Whiskey 3 precede to loading pad 28"

"Command, Grizzly 3, copy Roger Alpha to Whiskey 3 loading pad 28"
"Bobcat 3, Tower Control, taxi Roger Alpha to Whiskey 3 precede to loading pad 26"
"Command, Bobcat 3, copy Roger Alpha to Whiskey 3 loading pad 26"
"Sasquatch 3, Tower Control, taxi R to W3 precede to loading pad 24"

"Command, Sasquatch 3 copy Roger Alpha to Whiskey 3 loading pad 24." Mal closes the command coms channel. "Okay. Hold on. Here we go."

The Freelancer's main engines rotate until they are pointing upwards. Mal pushes the throttle forward. Roaring and shaking the Freelancer begins to lift off the ground. Tapping the thrusters the ship turns. Aligned to the taxiway Mal tilts the engines forward urging the ship to move forward onto the taxiway. The wind rocks the Freelancer like a sailing ship on a rolling sea. Through the murky darkness Mal see the bright bursts of engine exhaust from the other nearby ships in motion.

Mal fights the ship struggling against the weather. He turns the Freelancer right on to taxiway W3. Another Freelancer is just ahead. Its rear hatch is fading in and out of view barely 6 meters in front of them. A flash of lighting illuminates everything. For a brief moment Mal can see to his left a Skyfarer lumbering behind next to him on taxiway W2. Beyond W2 he sees the start of another line of Freelancers on taxiway W1.

"Frank transfer weapons to Slaughterback console, I need you on yaw and roll controls" Mal said.

"Copy" Frank said.

Together they fly fighting to hold the ship stead. They are now part of a line of ships moving towards the warehouse. Up a head the warehouse lights came on revealing a building twenty meters tall with an enormous square footprint. Taxiway W2 ended in the center of the front side of the warehouse teeing into another taxiway N7S7 connecting to W1 and W2. Loading pads 30 through 45 sat between taxiway N7S7 and the warehouse. Taxiway W1 and W3 continued west past the building, allowing access to loading pads 01 through 29. On the W3 side of the building the loading bay doors are numbered 02, 04, 06, 08 and so on off into the distance.

"Shit" Frank said as a gust of wind pushes the rear of the Freelancer to the side.

"Damnit don't slow down. Don't slow down. It's not a good time to be slowing down" Mal said as their ship slide sideways down the taxiway closing on the rear of the Bobcat 3's Freelancer ahead of them. Together Mal and Frank fight to gain control of the ship trying to straighten the ship back up with the taxiway. "You don't need to slow down to read the fucking numbers." Mal keyed his mic "Sasquatch 3 slowing, Bobcat 3 call out your speed corrections."

"She's coming around." Frank said as their ship rotates out of the slide.

Mal tilts the engines backwards trying to slow the ship before it rams into the rear of Bobcat 3. The Freelancer begins to slow. The rear of Freelancer in front of them is less than 3 meters away, 2.5 meters away. "Come on" Mal urged the shipped to slow. At 2 meters Mal rotated the engines vertical trying to keep some of the ships forward momentum. Mal wants to slow the ship down. But knows he needs to keep the ship moving without hitting the ship in front of them. he knows he can't completely stop the ship. If he does all the ships behind him would have to stop causing a mission delay. Not the best thing to do on your first mission Mal thought to himself. 1.5 meters 1 meter, with less than a meter to spare the two ships finally matched speeds. There's a burst from Bobcat 3 engines. Very slowly Bobcat 3's ship begins to pulls away from Mal's ship.

Mal looks to his left. Watches loading bay doors 14, 16, 18, 20 go by.

"Grizzly 3 slowing turning loading pad 28"
"Bobcat 3 slowing turning loading pad 26"
"Sasquatch 3 slowing turning loading pad 24"

Mal turns the ship towards loading bay door 24. Frank works the controls the best he can to keep the ship as steady. Centered on the landing pad together they carefully spins the rocking ship counter clockwise until the rear hatch faces the loading bay door. Mal reduce the engines bringing the ship to the ground with a thump.

"Control tower, Sasquatch 3 touch down. Holding station loading pad 24."
"Sasquatch 3, Control tower, acknowledged begin loading."

Unbuckling Slaughterback says "I'm heading back to supervise the loading."

"Copy" Mal said. "Frank, run a diagnostic. Let's make another pass to make sure all systems are good. I need to step away for a minute to relax a bit. I'll be right back."

"Understood" Frank replies.

Mal unbuckles, standing up he moves back into the galley. Rummaging around Mal finds some coffee in a cabinet. He staring at the container of coffee he thinks there are few constants in the universe, but one is pilots all ways have coffee.


. . .

Five months ago after leaving the Orion system Mal was introduced to a recruiter and had agreed to sign on with a militaristic organization called Villascum. From all outward appearances Villascum is a military machine. Organized, well-armed, well trained, focused, efficient, and professional, they strike hard, they striking fast. But from the little time Mal had spent with them, Villascum is a simple community of people, ex-military, retired military, ex-citizens, and civilians, living in lawless space. Fighting together, surviving together, and working together for the common good of everyone. A brotherhood and sisterhood of likeminded people who had left the UEE for their own private reasons. Villascum does what it needs to do to survive. What it needs to do to takes care of its own.

. . .

Mal and Frank are sitting in the cock pit reviewing the ship systems when Slaughterback walks in from the rear of the ship. "We're done loading."

"Copy" Mal said. Keying his mic "Control tower, Sasquatch 3 Phase 2 complete."

"Sasquatch 3, Control tower, acknowledged hold for Phase 3."

"Control tower, Sasquatch 3 copy holding for Phase 3."


. . .

All is quite in the UEE Navy orbital space station above the Mentor. The bridge crew performs their daily duties. It's a typical mundane day in the Navy when a young Starman breaks the routine "sir I have contacts."

The officer of the watch walks over to the console "how many. What are they and where."

"Two, three just appeared in quadrant 8, sector 16. Four, no two."

"Which is it starman."

"It's strange, blurred, sometime looks like two, three or four ships. I can't get a solid lock."

"Give me a focused scan on the object. Something just appeared in my airspace, I want to know what it is. Let's get to work people. "

The bridge crew snaps into life. The officer of the watch moves around the room.

"I got 4, no 8 ships" the young Starman said.

"Scan results coming in" said a young female Starman. "Vanduul?" she said more to herself. "Sir the results says Vanduul."

"16 ships" the young Starman said. His focus firmly fixed on the screen. "Shit. Vanduul. Vanduul scythes. 16 Vanduul scythes inbound."

"Wake the commander. Scramble the Hornets" said the officer of the watch.


. . .

All is not quite in the Mentor Space Traffic Controller in orbit above the planet. Controllers are scrambling to get a hold of the situation.

"I got multiple boogies leaving the planet" said a controller.

"My screen is full with outbound traffic" said another.

"Out bound Freelancers you do not have clearance to enter orbit."

"Unidentified out bound Starfarers you do not have clearance to enter orbit."

"Out bound traffic declared your destination. You do not have clearance to leave orbit."

An alarm sounds. One of the controllers moves to another console. "What the hell is going on? We have an alert, the planet is under attack? The Navy is launching Hornets."

"Inbound targets. 16 ships. Vanduul scythes? Vanduul scythes! Shit they are heading straight for us" said a controller.

"Out bound traffic do you copy? Does anyone copy?" said another. "Warning, we have in bound Vanduul fighters. Recommend returning to Mentor."

"Where are the Hornets?" asked the supervisor.

"36km, 5 minutes out."

"And the Vanduul?" said the supervisor.

"6k out and closing fast."

"How in the hell did they get so close without anyone seeing them?" asked the supervisor.

"Out bound traffic we have in bound hostiles. Recommend returning to Mentor" said a controller.

"5.5k out and closing."

"I repeat. Out bound traffic we have inbound hostiles. Recommend returning to Mentor."

"4k out and closing."

"The hornets aren't going to get here time." said the supervisor. All the controllers turn to face the supervisor. "Get to the escape pods".


. . .

Mal completes the jump into normal space. This is the last leg of the journey. It's just a sprint across pirate infested lawless space, navigate through a hazardous asteroid field, and then park the ship in an asteroid hanger. Powering up the quantum drive engines he turns the Freelance in the direction of home. At full power the Freelancer roars to life. Burning hard, gaining speed it starts the long sprint for home. Ahead many ships have already started their sprint. Behind a few ships are still jumping in.

Over the coms there's a lot of chatter. Everyone is checking in to give their status. From what Mal is hearing everyone has made it into the system. And everyone is heading for home. Mal breaths out a heavy breath, "Command, Sasquatch 3 jump complete status is green RTB."

"Sasquatch 3, Command, acknowledged. "


. . .

Mal started his new life with Villascum like everyone else who had joined up. First complete a couple of days of orientation then moved on to a week of some very simple basic training courses. Everyone learned a few survival skills. Everyone is evaluated to see where they would best fit in. Mal got moved into a small group of other new recruits who had been selected to join up with the B.E.A.S.T Company.

Within Villascum B.E.A.S.T. officially stood for Battalion Extractors and Secure Transport. A long time ago their primary mission was to remove personnel and equipment from combat hot zones. But over the decades B.E.A.S.T. has taken on a different role. Now B.E.A.S.T. stands for Boarding Experts and Ship Thieves, a more fitting meaning to who they are and what they do.

Mal had always thought he had been in prime physical shape. But his first months with Villascum proved otherwise. He's always been physically active his entire life. He's been active in Martial Arts since he was young. He's been diligent to made sure he stay fit while in college and afterwards. He made it a point during the past a year and a half not to go soft while working as a salvager and flying right seat in a Freelancer. But the physical training he had been subject to over those 18 weeks was grueling beyond his belief. Ten weeks of a traditional military style basic training followed by another eight weeks of B.E.A.S.T. Warfare Preparatory training molded and tuned his body.


. . .

"Control tower, Sasquatch 3 requesting permission to land" Mal said.

"Sasquatch 3, Control tower, you're cleared for landing. Welcome home."

Mal flies the Freelancer over the large spinning asteroid. It's not quite the size of a small moon. Yet it's large enough to have some noticeable gravity. Passing over an impact crater Mal sees the hanger door. Lying flat with the bottom of the crater, strong impervious blast doors are opening outward. Mal slows the ship to hover above the opening. Dropping down the Freelancers enters into the spaceport craved out of an enormous rock cave within the asteroid.

Spotting the ground crewman waving a set of handheld illuminated beacons Mal follows the visual signals leading him to where the ship needs to go. Touching down the ship comes to rest. Mal cuts the engines, powers down, and sits in the pilot's seat. Stiff with a blank expression on his face he stares straight ahead.

"Good job everyone. Take a few. We'll debrief in 10. I'll see to the unloading." Slaughterback said.

Frank unbuckles. Leaving his seat he slaps Mal on the shoulder "relax we're home now." Exiting the ship he says "you did good kid."

Reality hits Mal hard. I'm officially an outlaw. I've stolen a ship. I've passed the point of no return. I'll never be able to return to UEE space as a freeman. I'll never become a Citizen. Mal feels as if the ship is beginning to roll left. He feels warm, begins to sweat. His stomach turns over. In a rush of movement he unbuckles. Leaps from his sit. He runs to exit the Freelancer. Leaps out, dropping down onto all fours he heaves the contents of his stomach onto the tarmac.


. . .

To be continued...