The settlement of Mesa, now called Pillar of Mercy by its current owners, has had a long and checkered history. The city archives have lost the original settlement date, but there was still over 8,000 years of city history that one could sift through if they had both the time and patience. The Moroxan Occupation, The Storm of the Limitless, The Great Flood, Mesa weathered them all. It was even home to a Planetary Duke of the 7th Imperium who constructed a massive space elevator with Mesa as the base. The recorded reason was "To get as far away as [EXPLETIVE REDACTED] possible from this festering pit of a planet!" When it fell, Mesa was abandoned for centuries, before being occupied by the Hanshin Corporation as a surface observation post. Rising over 1.2 kilometers into the sky, the rocky outcrop offered a commanding view of the surrounding countryside, and the height also gave it excellent protection from surface attackers. Most Mesa occupiers were also able to afford at least adequate orbital defenses, ensuring safety from air and space attacks and also ensuring that Mesa remained a symbol of power and wealth in the region. It also has had over two dozen official names over the years, but since the only real constant was the settlement's geographical namesake, the name Mesa would stick.

The current rulers had divided the city into two main sections. The Base contained what the leaders considered "the uneducated rabble". The poor, the non-imperials, people who crossed the wrong noble, all were confined to the crowded and twisting streets at the bottom, hemmed in by massive walls rising over the mud-brick homes and scrap-metal huts. Turrets dotted the wall, protecting the Mesa from any potential outside -or more importantly, inside- threats. The main trading hub was a mess of warehouses, silos, loading docks and open markets that were connected to the gates by practically the only attempt at a quality road in the Base. On one of the loading docks was the crew of Overland Train #3421-23.

One was currently rolling down one of the train's flights of stairs. On fire.

"SHIT!"

*BANG*

"SHIT!"

*BANG*

"SHIT!"

*BANG*

"SHIT!"

*BANG*

"SHIT!"

*CRUNCH*

"FUCK!"

If done right, being on fire could look ridiculously awesome. Carry around some blunt instruments, have a helmet with a skull painted on, maybe include laser eyes, and you could easily become a terror of the masses. The boss did not look ridiculously awesome. In fact, had he not been wearing the repairman suit, specialized against all forms of industrial hazards, he might have looked in danger of burning to death flailing like in idiot. Instead, he just flailed like an idiot. The suit also wasn't completely sealed, letting enough heat get through to make the boss feel like a pizza in the oven, only less delicious.

His crew-mates were currently trying to put him out.

...wait...no, no they weren't. One was at the top of the stair-well laughing and hanging on to the railing, a fire extinguisher in hand, small parts of his body singed, while the other currently had mechadendrites with fire hoses already pointed at the boss, but weren't smothering the flames. Their controller had more important things to do.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR CANDLE,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!"

With that, the hoses began gushing fire retardant foam onto the hapless boss. After a solid 15 seconds, they finally cut off, and retreated into compartments in the wall. No evidence of the fire remained. The boss's first attempt at getting up resulted in him slipping on the foam and landing once again on whatever was beneath him with a sickening crunch. His second try resulted in success, revealing ANATA'S handiwork. It was like someone decided to dress up as the Yeti for a costume party, but instead of an actual costume, decided to use cool whip. The look was completed by the massive scowl and the death glare the boss was giving to Gino, who was now rolling on the floor. The boss lacked deadly eye lasers, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying to burn Gino to a cinder. A flash distracted his murder attempt and brought him around to catch a glimpse of a camera vanishing into another wall compartment.

A thin smile appeared on his face. "...ANATA? Why did you wait so long to put out the fire?" The words flowed out like oil. Or poison.

"IT IS TRADITION TO WAIT UNTIL AFTER THE SONG IS OVER THAT THE CANDLES CAN BE BLOWN OUT. IT WOULD BE RUDE TO THE BIRTHDAY BOY TO BLOW OUT THE CAKE EARLIER."

"...of course it would. Gino?" The lizard finally made it to the floor with the Yeti, fire extinguisher still in hand. The boss's gaze turned to him and the death glare returned.

"Fire's out boss. I'll patch up the rest in a moment."

"Thanks, but that isn't what I was talking about." A finger was now pointed at Gino. "You didn't stop me from tripping over that toolbox. And you-" the gloved finger moved to a random screen in the room "let me look like an idiot, then photographed the whole mess!" A small giggle was the response on the intercom. Now I'll never get that photo!

Gino looked slightly crestfallen. "Sorry boss, you weren't in no danger, and it seemed like you needed a distraction."

...oh crap. "Thank you Gino, thank you!" Even more sarcasm was added to the thickening brew of unhappy Yeti thoughts as he began to list off with his fingers. "Let's see, repairs on one of our back-up fuel valves backfired in a way too literal sense, I was set on fire, went down a flight of stairs, flailed like an idiot while my crew members laughed at me, got covered in foam, had a picture taken of me looking like some hooker, and now I just realized we only have ten minutes to somehow find 2,700 credits in the next 10 minutes and somehow get it to whatever passes for revenue services here! Oh, and apology not accepted! From either of you!"

Sounds of a whimpering puppy came from ANATA, but the boss wasn't swayed.

Whatever else might have come out of his mouth was interrupted by a chime on a nearby wall screen. What came up on it caused the boss to blink.

ATTENTION [VALUED SUBJECT].
A BOUNTY OF 2,700 CREDITS FOR INFORMATION ON THE LOCATION OF REPO-WORMS HAS BEEN SUCCESSFULLY TRANSFERRED TO YOUR ACCOUNT.
HIS MAJESTY THANKS YOU FOR HELPING US MAKE HIS REALMS SAFE FOR ALL HIS PEOPLE.

MAY THE BLESSINGS OF THE ONE TRUE EMPEROR GUIDE YOU.

His confusion increased with another chime, and another message.

ATTENTION [LAWBREAKER].
YOUR FINE OF 2,700 CREDITS HAS BEEN PAYED IN FULL.
PAYMENT HAS BEEN REVIEWED AND CONFIRMED WITH HIS MAJESTY'S EXTERNAL TAX SERVICES.
FURTHER LAW BREAKING WILL RESULT IN SERIOUS REPERCUSSIONS.

MAY THE BLESSINGS OF THE ONE TRUE EMPEROR GUIDE YOU.

"...the hell?"

"DO YOU LIKE THE BIRTHDAY PRESENT?"

Now he was really confused. "ANATA, we looked through the bounty boards. We never saw this!"

"PILLAR COMMUNICATION SYSTEMS WERE TIRED AFTER PLAYTIME, THEY LET ME REDECORATE WHILE THEY SLEPT. REDECORATION LED TO BIRTHDAY PRESENT IDEA!"

Realization dawned on his face, and the boss began to smile. "Create a fake bounty to help us pay off the real fine. Excellent work ANATA. You sure no one will trace your handiwork?"

"WE ARE THE BEST HIDE AND SEEK PLAYER IN THE WORLD. NO ONE HAS FOUND US YET, AND THAT WILL NOT CHANGE TODAY."

"But why didn't you do it earlier, or at least tell me about it?"

"PRESENTS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE A SURPRISE! AND THE BIRTHDAY CAKE NEEDS TO BE BLOWN OUT BEFORE PRESENTS ARE OPENED!" Came ANATA'S (in her mind) completely reasonable response.

The boss seemed to stare at nothing for a bit, then walked over and collapsed on a chair, held his helmeted face in his gloves, and began to take calming breaths. Except with the outfit still covered in foam, it sounded more like a wheezing pig. ANATA was silent, while Gino watched on. After a short period the breathing stopped and the boss took his hands away from his head as he looked up to the ceiling.

"...So, you didn't get rid of the fine until the last minute, let me burn, and covered me in foam, just so I could have a proper birthday?"

"...YUP!"

The boss took a deep breath. "I...guess I should be thankful for what you did. Just please skip the birthday celebration next time, I don't mind you being rude." The boss got up and began to remove the suit, piece by piece.

"BOSS-MAN IS SUFFERING FROM BACK MAMMARIES!"

"What?" It was when he had removed the chest section of the suit that he finally got a good look at the back, and noticed what appeared to be smashed electronics in the foam. Closer inspection revealed them to be ruined photo-slates, with what appeared to be...oh.

"Hey Gino, I think I found your "relaxation material"!" The boss was waving about the foam covered wrecks.

"MY PORN!"

A brief chuckle came from the boss. "I guess you can consider yourself forgiven Gino. Alright guys, I'm going to go finish up the job. I'll be back with payment and dinner, I'm thinking stew."

"OH GRIK, IT'S ALL STUCK TOGETHER!"

The boss headed downstairs to his cabin and picked up his trading outfit. A worn leather coat covered heavy Kevlar-3 chest armor, a simple 10 mm went into its holster, a data slate went into his coat pocket, 3 home-made flash bangs went into their belt holders, 500 credits went into another coat pocket, and a V-ball cap completed the look. The boss walked upstairs before heading towards the cab's storage room. Inside were a variety of crates stacked to the ceiling with the walls lined with lockers. He went to one particular locker and took out an unmarked jewelry box, taking special care not to drop the goods. The whole process took about 15 minutes, but he eventually ended up back into the entry room. "Be back in about 3 hours, dinner should be ready by six'ish." With that the boss exited the cab and left the trade hub. Soon, he was just another part of the crowd.

Time for a delivery.

Pain. Hate. These were the only things going through the black mare, now turned corporeal mist, as it hurtled through darkness. It had long since left anything resembling Equestria. Even the neighboring realms of Tartarus, The Eternal Dream, and the Hay Lands were long gone. It couldn't see, hear, or smell anything. All it could feel was the burning sensation brought on by a direct hit from the Elements, and some semblance of forward velocity. It was going somewhere, fast.

Burnthemburnthemthemburnthemfreezethemchokethemkillthebitchkillthemallmakethemsuffermakethembreakmakethemdiemakethem- HOLY BUCK!

Specks of light began to appear, illuminating shapes in the darkness. Some were nothing more than solid cubes or bubbles. Others were stings, looping and twisting around each other in an alien dance. There were more complex shapes too. Some had strange gases swirling around in them, while others were speckled in light and color. There was a formation of triangles that made up what appeared to be a massive avian creature far above it, slowly beating its wings. A massive spoked wheel whizzed by above her, and when it was closest, she thought she could hear voices. Brief flashes would occasionally appear, but were barely given a second thought. In all this weirdness, the hate and the pain cooled off, replaced by an odd sense of calm.

Heh, bet Discord would love this place...wait, what? While the creature was in control of Princess Luna, it could look through the memories she had before it took over. When it was kicked out, the creature should've lost them all. It must've managed to take a few with it before it's admittedly flashy exit from everything it ever knew.

Its observations were interrupted by what appeared to be a tentacle of absolutely monstrous proportions snaking up alongside it. The tentacle seemingly shrunk in size as it stretched above the creature, latched on to a speckled cube, and started dragging it down, the cube growing in size as it was dragged towards the creature. It tried to get out of the way, shrink itself, anything, but the momentum was too great, and its course remained unchanged. The captured cube barely missed it and was dragged down into...

...sweet tartarus...

...well, it made sure to forget THAT. It made sure to keep its focus on what was right in front of it, while its thoughts began to return to its current predicament, and those who caused it.

That damnable Traitor, this is all her fault! "I want to be as great as my sister!" she said, "I want the whole world to know my name!" she said! And I did that! I did everything she ever asked for! And how does she repay me? By shattering me into a million bucking pieces and sending me to whatever the buck this place is! When I return to that blasted land of fleshy walkers, I'll choke their precious sun and its pathetic caretaker in the Ice Furnace! That pathetic Luna will watch as I turn every one of her subjects into broken husks. Leave her with only the dead to praise that bitch!

It's internal ranting prevented it from noticing that no new creatures or objects were in front of it. In fact, it had less than a second to register the oddity of a massive wall of liquid in front of it before it was consumed by darkness once again. The liquid had the consistency of molasses, and the violent deceleration dazed it, preventing it from getting a bearing on its surroundings. Massive currents tossed it about like a rag doll. Through it all, sounds, voices on the edge of its hearing whispered. Thankfully, the currents calmed down, allowing the creature to finally get its bearings. It tried to get the voice's attention, but even if it had a mouth, the syrupy liquid would ensure that no recognizable speech would come out. There were also no local minds she could latch on to and communicate with. The voices became slightly louder. They appeared to be arguing over something, but none of the language made any sense to the creature.

Damn them! Do they not know of my power?!? Do they not know what I can do? If they do not release me immediately, I'll see to it that they suffer the same fate- whoawhoaWHOA!

With a sudden burst of speed it was moving again. It felt like it was being stretched to near impossible lengths as it was pulled through the molasses. It couldn't feel pain in it's vaporous form, but there was the very real possibility that the speed would pull it to shreds. Just when it felt it was about to be torn apart, the pulling stopped, and light reappeared. Instead of the sticky liquid, it was now flying in a blue sky with a few clouds whizzing past.

HAH! I have been returned to Equestria! Even beings from the Void fear my WRATH! Maybe I'll just take their ears and wear them as a necklace as a thank you! Now -hehe-, time to find the Traitor.

...

...

...

BUCK! Why can't I slow down? No matter how hard it tried, the creature hurtled onward, and now that it had a better bearing on its surroundings, red flags were raised in its mind, and it began to question whether it was even back in Equestria. Massive craters had been gouged out of the land. Ruins of unfamiliar cities lied half buried in the sand, surrounded by dead forests. Seas lacked their precious water, mountains lay broken, and the earth itself had been cracked open. In the rapidly approaching distance was a column of light that reached to the heavens, and just kept going.

There also wasn't any sun in the daytime sky. There was that red flag too.

On second thought I'll murder their whole family in front of them before eating their entrails oh NOT AGAIN! For the third time in way too short a time span, it was almost ripped apart and twirled around like a bowl of noodles before coming back together in entirely new surroundings. At least it was no longer being pulled to some unknown destination.

Dear Bonnie, it's full of stars... Was the last thought it had before the cold hit it. So cold that it went into shock before passing out. Underneath it, a brown planet slowly grew in size.

Shit. That was the prevailing smell of the trade hub. With trees being rare as it is on the planet and most other forms of fuel either too complex to obtain, or were already gobbled up by the more well-to-do residents, the masses had to resort to other means for light and heat. Shit, and the methane it provided, was always in plentiful supply, and one quickly learned to ignore the smell if they wanted a cooked meal, lights, or other essentials of a civilized society. After all, there were a lot worse things to call a society other than "smelly". In the afternoon sun, the heat helped make the smell extra rich in the Base.

Shops, stalls, and fire-pits were filled with vendors hawking their wares using tactics such as signs, entertainers, or even simple volume to try and stand out among the rest. On most of the main roads were hastily erected barricades manned by soldiers unhappy with having to guard such a shit-hole. Side streets and alleys were patrolled almost constantly, while the air was abuzz with surveillance drones.

Amidst the seething masses of the Base, it would've been easy to miss the hunched figure muttering to itself as it meandered through the crowds. Local crazies talking to voices in their heads were nothing new, and he was rarely spared more than a second glass.

"Friggin, chimmin, simmin, flimmin, no good filthy excuses for crew members! Last time it was sneaking in the laxatives into my soup, now I'm on fire and they just laugh. What's next? They use me as bait for dune sharks?"

We could just get rid of them.

"...No. They're dicks, yes, but so is everyone on this rock. Gino lives up to the Scale-Dog namesake, and ANATA is a goddam nightmare when in control of the Piranhas. They're too valuable, and they know it."

They're just trying to get rid of some excess steam.

"I just wish they blew off steam that didn't involve me being in pain. Or at least do it to someone else."

So what we need is a new punching ba-er new crew member?

"Sure, let's bring on another nutcase. What could possibly go wrong? Ah! Here we go!" His wandering finally brought him to a warehouse that fit the description in the broadcast. The warehouse was more like a bunker in that it was a member of the rare breed of Orbital Shot buildings, designed to be dropped from a first-wave colony ship and make it through the intense heat and friction of atmospheric entry and the resulting landing. It was modified over the centuries but still had that old frontier aesthetic. Even the remains of the crater it made still surrounded it, if one looked hard enough. In front was a sign:

Mr. Inglas's Spare Parts Warehouse: We rip you off less than any other leading competitor, Guaranteed!

"Let's hope they're not too angry about the delay." With that, he walked up to the appropriate side entrance, and knocked 4 times, a small pause before the last. A few seconds later, the door was opened by a giant of a women in a business suit two sizes too small who glared at him before noticing the box in his hands. A small scanner appeared in her hands before she took a quick sweep of him. A green light lit up, showing he was clean of whatever they were looking for. She then brought out a simple spray bottle before liberally dousing him in some flowery scent.

"You have kept him waiting long enough. Hurry." She said before quickly ushering him inside.

The warehouse was a hive of activity. People of all shapes and sizes scurried about, hauling crates, checking shipping manifests, and standing guard around the entrances and windows. One lady was even at what at first appeared to be nothing more than a mess of wires and busted electronics, but on closer inspection revealed a jury-rigged radio station, muttering into a microphone in some coded language.

He was being led by the his greeter to the rear of the warehouse, guards keeping a constant watch on him. In the back was a simple desk with a hunched figure, scribbling down information on a piece of paper before handing it off to someone else. A small candle of incense was burning, giving off a smell similar to what was currently covering the boss. A quick clearing of the throat by the greeter made the figures finally notice the boss and the jewelry box. Brief flashes of relief, then anger, appeared in his eyes before being squashed down and replaced with a large smile.

"Ah, so our little mail man has finally decided to show up!" He said as he got up and walked around the desk. "Allow me to introduce myself: I am Ticker Inglas, and let me welcome you to my humble little warehouse. I see you have met Ms. Honno." The smile lessened a bit. "What kept you? Fell asleep at the wheel?" The smile regained its original size along with a light chuckle as he approached the boss. For all intents and purposes, he was just a simple business man in a nice suit who was slightly unhappy with the delay. It was untrue of course, the way he had his nose stuck up higher than the mesa itself, the tacked on smile, the way he looked at the boss like he was slightly spoiled meat, the slight sneer, and the way he walked all pointed to a man of much higher station than he wanted to be seen as. It made no difference to the boss, everyone on this planet was hiding something, and those traders who were smart learned to ignore their customer's little secrets.

The boss simply shrugged. "Guess so, the Repo-Worms are getting so easy to kill it's almost boring." The comment the expected reaction from some of the guards; questioning looks, some stiffened backs, a look of fear in one or two pairs of eyes. "I hope I'm not too late."

Mr. Inglas's smile never wavered. "Of course not! Please, we're both quite busy, so let's get this over with." The handover went without incident, and Ticker returned to his desk before picking up a data slate and pressing a few buttons while the boss took out his own slate. "Here's your payment." The boss's slate beeped and a number appeared on the screen.

The boss frowned. Of course it wouldn't be that simple. A glare to the business man helped to voice the boss's displeasure. It was returned with the first real smile from Mr. Inglas. "Is there a problem?"

"This isn't the agreed upon amount."

"You didn't come at the agreed time little mail man. In fact, you should be thankful for the fact that I took off such a small percentage." Mr. Inglas was back in his desk and began to open the jewelry box. "Now if you would kindly leave me be, I would be most thankful."

The boss turned around, and began to make his way to the exit, all the while taking a closer look at his surroundings. The crates people were carrying around seemed to be designed less to hold parts, and more to hold explosives. The workers themselves had an undercurrent of sharp discipline more common with those of the military tradition, not warehouse workers. Some had odd bulges in their clothing, which could be almost anything, but seemed to be shapes similar to the firearms the guards were holding. They also seemed to be a very observant bunch, always keeping at least one eye on him and their boss. He took one last glance to at Mr. Inglas, and just caught the barest glimpse of something being pulled out of the box, but it was enough.

Spare parts warehouse my ass. A plan formed in his head, he grinned, and turned around.

"Mr. Inglas, have you ever heard of Refuge Lake?"

A frown appeared on Mr. Inglas's face. "I thought I told you to leave, or do I need to have Ms. Honno escort you out." The last sentence was punctuated by the lovely woman cracking her knuckles and growing a feral grin.

The boss didn't leave. In fact, he began pacing. "Refuge Lake is the last remnant of a global ocean that once covered the whole planet over 5,000 years ago. Water traders there sell this ancient water at massively inflated rates to other settlements across the planet. The Pillar elite can't get enough of this ancient water, and are regular customers."

"What does this have to do with anything? I said leave!" The guards and some of the "workers" began to notice the commotion and work ceased as they waited.

"I know some of the water traders who sell here. For a small fee, I could convince them to sell the water to the new ruler of Pillar of Mercy at a reduced price. The new ruler would most certainly be the envy of his friends when they see how much of this precious water he had obtained. Surely they would fall over themselves to impress the richest person on the planet!"

Everyone had stopped what they were doing and were staring at the boss.

"...What makes you think the Pillar will have a new ruler?" There was ice in his eyes, and his right hand began inching to one of the desk drawers.

Keeping an even tone, the boss replied. "Oh, a few things didn't seem right with this little business of yours. But the tip off is that WS-EMP device you just took out of the box, perfect for taking out certain communications equipment. There's also the fact that you're now reaching for a weapon."

A simple flick of Mr. Inglas's wrist was the response, and as one, over two dozen firearms were pointing at him. Mr. Inglas himself had a silenced pistol trained to his head. He began to sweat as his eyes darted around, searching for possible escape routes. His neck began to tingle. Forcing himself to stay calm, the boss slowly raised his hands. Mr. Inglas smirked.

"I could easily make you...disappear, and once I'm in control, no-one would bother with trying to find a missing little mail-man."

"I believe my crew would disagree with you on that."

"They could disappear just like you."

"That would take time and resources you really need elsewhere. And if I'm not back soon, they can easily raise up quite a shit storm from the authorities and send it strait here." The boss shrugged. "We don't want that happening. You are complicating your plans at the most critical moment of any successful revolution, and I am quite willing to stay quiet on this matter, and help you out in saving a bit of money. All I ask is some compensation."

"...How do I know you won't report this?"

We're getting through. "If you live on this world as long as I have, you get a good understanding of how turbulent the power structure gets. This isn't the first revolution I've dealt with, and hopefully, not the last. Besides, you at least payed me, the current rulers shot at my vehicle and fined me before I was even through the gate. You're better than them in my book."

The stalemate continued for what seemed an eternity, but Mr. Inglas slowly lowered his gun, before ordering everyone else to do the same.

"How much?" The boss was cut off before he could answer. "And no, it will not be the difference from the original job."

"80% of the deduction right now."

"20%."

"60."

"40."

"55."

"40."

"...deal."

The jovial attitude returned to Mr. Inglas. "Excellent! By the way mail-man, you'll need to get a good night's rest if you want to avoid the...morning rush hour." Mr. Inglas now had a grin that would easily classify as "shit-eating". This was returned by the boss's own brand of shit eating grin.

"Thank you for your concern. When does it get bad?"

"9:42 sharp."

"We'll be in the desert by 9."

"Wise move. May the One True Emperor guide you in your travels."

"May he guide you as well." The boss made his way out of the building, watched by guards who no longer had to keep up the facade. He was soon back out into the sounds and smells of the outside. It would only take a few minutes to find dinner.

The sun had set about an hour ago, and most residents had retreated into their own homes. The only ones still out were patrols enforcing curfew, and masked figures silently tailing them. Lights here and there flickered on, casting the streets and alleyways with a variety of shadows, some of which even moved. With the sun gone, the temperature plummeted to near freezing. This at least helped lessen the smell. In the caravan's cab, a few lights were on. Most were the dull glow of monitors, but there was also a simple reading light attached to a desk in the rear of the cab. Hunched over the desk was the boss, checking his slate for maintenance reports, then checking their personal inventory if they had the spare parts. There was also the matter of checking ANATA's handiwork with the paper work that would get them out of the city without being shot at. Again. She was good, but tended to leave "gifts" buried in the documents that would range from harmless to very very very not harmless. The boss didn't mind. The editing had turned into a virtual game over the years. If the boss won, ANATA would back off on her usual antics and at least try not to cause too much trouble. If not...well, the boss made sure they were at a safe distance before someone uncovered one of ANATA's gifts.

Hmmm...nothing here. Nothing here. Clean. Good. Where is that-oh wait there it is. A few taps removed the offending piece of data before the boss leaned back and began popping joints. It was soon interrupted by the walky-talky.

"Eh boss, you won yet?"

A quick flailing about brought the device to near his face. "Just got it. Have fun on first watch."

"Will do, see ya at 2 boss." The walky-talky shut off and the boss continued to make some last minute checks on the paperwork and supply lists. The next few minutes were filled with the gentle hum of monitors and the occasional squeak from the desk chair. The boss's thoughts drifted to the future, and their next job. There was an archeological expedition in a settlement called O'Neill who were looking for safe transport to some space wreckage in the Ontan Sea. They also needed guards for the 20 days they would be staying there. The journey to the site alone would take 6 days of travel so there would be at least a good month without resupply. Still, everything was ironed out before hand, no vague desires for "hunting for the greatest treasure in history" or "retrieving the last hope of mankind" or any of that nonsense. 20 days, a wrecked ship, and lot of sunscreen. The wreckage was in an ungoverned region, so there would at least be a few bandits to keep things interesting.

"DID BOSS ENJOY PLAYTIME?" The peace was interrupted by ANATA making her presence known in her own ear-drum-breaking way. The boss turned to one of the many monitors before responding.

"ANATA, you're getting easy! Where were the copies, the junk data, the malware? There wasn't even any encryptions. Something up?"

"BIRTHDAY."

"What?"

"BOSS DIDN'T ENJOY BIRTHDAY PRESENT. HAD TO SEARCH MIRROR FOR NEW PRESENT IDEAS."

[sigh] "ANATA, that was a great gift you got me. Really! I was just feeling a little inconvenienced at that moment and needed to clear my head." If you want to call being lit on fire and about to be imprisoned "inconvenient" then go ahead. "I should've shown my appreciation better. I'm sorry ANATA, can you please forgive me?"

Her response was to deploy a fire hose and give him a face full of foam.

"...CAKE HAS ENOUGH FROSTING NOW."

"Thanks." A quick glance at one of the screens brought to the boss's attention how late it was. "ANATA, it's getting late. Time for some rest. For both of us."

"BUT I WANT TO PLAY HIDE AND SEEK WITH FRIENDS OUTSIDE!"

Outside? What is she talking about? The only people still outside are...the guards, and...oh. "ANATA, we weren't invited to their games, it would be very rude to barge in without asking would it? In any case, you need to rest up. We're heading out bright and early tomorrow morning and we need all the energy we can get. Okay?"

"...OKAY."

A few minutes later, ANATA was finally resting, and the boss shuffled his way down to his cabin. The only illumination was provided by the occasional blinking maintenance lights and dull glow of a few monitors. One level below the entry compartment was crew living quarters, although it was less "quarters" and more "bunks bolted onto whatever open space was available at the time". At the far end of the quarters was a door with the word BOSS hastily scribbled over the word JANITOR'S CLOSET. Opening the door revealed the current object of his affections: a cot.

Might actually get some work done. Was the last thought that went through his head before he collapsed on the cot and went out like a light.

Author's Note

I blame New Vegas for the lateness. I cannot wait until I get to start calling Empy and Nightmare Moon real names. This is getting ridiculous.