A CALL FROM THE GUARDIANS

He wore green-lensed goggles and a wry smile that told you that he wasn’t one to cross. Everybody in the Star and Garter knew he was a drug dealer; he had visited several times before, selling his Tarach Spice. The more aware knew his name, Commander Ne’Mall, and that he flew with the Guardians of Tranquillity, a cult of drug-pushing ‘crazies’ led by Tranquillity Boss, their Spice-Seer. Those in the business of intelligence gathering knew the most: ‘Two-times Tranquillity Top Dealer and aide to T-Boss’ meant he was a diplomat for an independent faction, a player in ‘The Game’… and a puppet on a string; perhaps they knew more than he did.

He approached the bar. The goggles were removed and he ordered a drink. Tranquil Tea. The barman, never forgetting a face, knew Ne’Mall and his green eyes. He knew that supping tea meant he was here for business. He knew that Ne’Mall would fortify his tea with some of his wares and nurse his drink in contemplative silence before stating his purpose.

A little while later, as expected, Ne’Mall gestured to the attentive barman to come close. “I need to speak with Adamantium,” he said...

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FEDERAL NAVY CASE: CMDR MOHIZZ

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Welcome Commander.
Officer Sonya Duval personal Data log running…
Waiting for authentification…
Authentification approved…
Accessing log.

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I am Sophie Duval, security officer at Dalton Gateway and retired Intelligence officer of the Federation Navy. I’ve decided to start this log after events that have taken place in the last months. All started with the appearance of a certain Commander Mohizz at Dalton Gateway on the 26th of December 3301.

I’ve attached Federal logs written by me to help you comprehend the depth of what has transpired. Information on this particular case leaded me to a much larger conspiracy I still have some difficulties to grasp.

I hope these reports will give you a better insight on who is Commander Mohizz, or rather who he isn’t.

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Federal Log 56987 – 12/26/3300 – CASE ID A20584 – CMDR Mohizz arrival.

This is my first report about CMDR Mohizz...

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BRINGING IN THE BAD GUYS

‘Well I’ll be damned, Wally good to see you. I take it by the uniform you are now a free man?’ Cmdr Skifton greeted me as I entered what could loosely pass as an office.

‘Free as a Leestian humming bird, how are things, heard you have moved up in the world?’

‘Well trying to, but that’s a matter for another day. Look, I would love to tell you all about it, but I’m waiting on an important meeting, head to the Star and Garter, whatever you want on my tab, I will join you once I am done, I will tell you all about it. If things go well there could be a job in it for you.’

‘No problem, take your time, I’m sure me and the bar will become well acquainted,’ I replied, shaking the hand of one of the few men who saw past my shackles and treated me as a person not a slave.

After three hours Cmdr Skifton walked into the bar, looking slightly pissed off.

‘Take it your meeting didn’t go as planned?’ I asked as he joined me at my table.

‘Planned? It never even happened. Was meant to be meeting someone who could finally get us full control of this system, but he never showed.’

‘Seems you’re doing a good enough job already mate, FRC are booming since you and your team took over, and as I understand...

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THE GIN DRAGON RETURNETH

At his sensor array terminal in the flight operations centre, operator Maxx Cantrell picked up the heat signature of a Saud Kruger Beluga Liner on an approach vector towards the station. As duty and protocol required, he opened up a comms channel and hailed the fast moving vessel.

“Saud Kruger Foxtrot Uniform Romeo, this is Coney Gateway Flight Control. Please abide by station law and submit a docking request before landing.”

Within seconds, the Beluga pilot keyed an auto-request to the station’s internal computer which would assign the first free landing pad capable of accommodating the huge ship, subject to clearance from its human controller. Cantrell’s fingers flashed across the terminal in an almost automatic manner.

“Docking request approved,” he responded, green-lighting one of the largest landing pads. “You may alight on pad four-two.”

A moment later, the liner entered the docking bay with a carefully controlled velocity and set down regally onto the assigned pad.

As its engines powered down, wisps of hydrogen fuel spewed wildly from giant nacelles at its rear while docking clamps secured the landing legs to the platform...

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