Aq and Davis fall upon the white luxury gravsled like the Detroit streets at night. Bodywork and excess frame lies in a pile on the cargo bay deck and are soon joined by the comfortable seats, cupholders, and most of the electronics. The actual avionics remain, just enough for a human driver to handle the vehicle - a human driver wearing nightvision goggles if they plan to do any night driving.

Meanwhile, Semo's gone out to gather some of the scratchy scrub brush and any branches he can find. The Aikoran sun is low in the sky and casts the entire canyon in shadow. Semo scrabbles for purchase on the gravelly riverbank as he makes his way to the cliffs rising up to the sparsely wooded mountains above. He startles something nesting in the canyon walls; a long, streamlined dark shape darts from a niche, spreads glider membranes, and banks across to the other side of the canyon.

Semo quickly starts tearing out some scrub. It smells nice, not pine fresh or anything like that, but it has spindly leaves that aren't exactly unpleasant to the nose. He wonders if they're poisonous after he's already carrying a handful. The sounds of the world outside the canyon filter down to the sergeant. Unfamiliar animal cries. The rustle of avians. Semo wonders if humans are the highest thing on the food chain out here.

---

That thought doesn't even cross Max's mind as he humps his gear over granite slabs and steps lightly where the smaller rocks have made the hillside treacherous. Any slip could send gravel into the forest below, giving the drones that slight bit of information that could end in their capture. Angel leads the trio as fast and in as straight a line as he can manage, heading up and around the rockier, sparsely wooded foothills.

We're on Planet Colorado, Max thinks.

Angel keeps moving. That's what he has to do. They can avoid detection and capture as long as they stay one step ahead. If they can do that, Angel figures anyone would have to give up the chase eventually, at least until the prey made another mistake. If those drones don't pick up the trail, there has to be a point where their ability to cover a perimeter with 100% accuracy will be slower than the average land speed of their prey, thus making them useless.

"You got it," Semo replies to One-Ton. To his mind, some scrub and some cargo netting would help hide the ship as well, so he'll bring back as much as he can carry, then go for another load. After all, the Morningstar's a big ship.

It's a bit spooky out here, even for him. No idea what the native wildlife is like - hell, there could be shit that makes dinosaurs look piddly out here. Who knows?

Still, work to be done and he's gonna do it. He'll pull his sidearm, if necessary, though the Turai sword will be his first choice of defense as it's much quieter.

Sunburned and covered in soot from the plasma cutter, Davis humps another piece of interior trim out of the gravsled. He hasn't worked on a car like this since his youth in LA, but it's like riding a bike. He looks over to One-Ton. "You think you can get some extra performance out of this thing? I'm going to start knocking up some seats and harnesses in a bit, I gotta get some water first."

He walks back to the mess and gets a big glass of water, then walks around the crew area until he finds Bello. "I think we got off on the wrong foot, what with the threatening to blow you up with a grenade." He smiles, and extends his hand to the man. "Name's Davis. Pleased to meet you."

Semo starts deforesting the canyon walls and riverbanks while Davis continues his Monster Garage episode. Luis comes out and helps with the hot-rodding after making sure the ship's not giving off any sort of energy signature.

It's good to have something to do with your hands. No wonder the A-Team always built pig-iron-and-diesel monstrosities when the chips were down. Semo, Mellish, and Oskell pepper the Morningstar's hiding place with enough scrub to fool most any aerial surveillance, then lay some of the restraining webs from the bunks across the roll cage so as to easily intertwine their remaining foliage into the sled's profile.

The sun has set during the frantic work. Twilight blue sprinkled with unfamiliar constellations illuminates the canyon.

"I am pleased to meet all of you," Bello replies, "I only wish that your very presence did not trigger colossal manhunts. Tell me, what is the plan once we have butchered the gravsled?"

Davis takes a long drink from his glass. "We'll use it to get you to the meeting place with your friends and pick up our teammates in the forest. Hopefully our modifications will make it quick and stealthy enough that the Imperium won't know we're coming until we're already gone." He looks at Bello. "Well, I don't think we ever got into the reasons why we're fighting the Imperium. We're out here because the Imperium has decided that the best way for them to take control of Earth - or Narsai - is to destroy it and everyone on it. Why are you out here? What do you want with us?"

Meanwhile, Hugh has just wrapped up reorganising and redistributing supplies into combat packs. That should be enough to equip a strike team to retrieve the lost 'uns and grab the Resistance leaders.

With that accomplished, he snatches a notebook from his shirt and starts writing a few notes for his after-action report.

Hm, how do you spell mutinous?

"I - and many of us here on this world - are here because we would see each world in the Imperium govern itself. Aikoro could become self-sufficient, as Bashakra was before it was ruined. What lies in store for this planet, however, is a slow death more akin to Botane. I was told you have been there. You know its smell, you have seen the endless manufactories. The Imperium's many worlds share resources, and so the Bashakras and Aikoros and Botanes are raped and used to feed the Hedions and the Napais and the Sambasans."

"But my group is not of one mind. There are those who joined when Narsai was discovered, who fight for an imagined cause on your behalf despite not knowing your world's intentions. They would set the Homeworld up as a new Imperial seat, to overthrow the Immortal Jade Emperor as some sort of gift to ingratiate themselves into the "true" humanity."

"Some fight the Imperium because of personal vendettas. A dead lover, a dead child, some part of themselves lost and the Emperor's legions blamed for it. We welcome these souls but they are often gone too soon."

"Some simply want a different Emperor, a reversion back to centuries ago where the worlds of the Imperium were given more latitude. That path led us to the Sheen War and our near-destruction. Ever since that dark time the Bureaucracy has stifled progress, has watched every world with an akwhela's precision."

"What we would do with you, Davis, would have been the subject of the negotiations to which I was to deliver you. Were I in charge, I would use your people as a symbol for change. To show that one can wound the Imperium and live. I would gather people to our cause. The Imperium's forces are finite; I wonder if my comrades are taking advantage of the chaos we spread today to accomplish their own tasks?"

Max feels the burn of the hard march in his knees but knows he has to keep on going. Any pain endured now will be worth leaving the Turai and their drones behind. Trying to mind over matter their current predicament, Max breaks into small talk.

"So, Arketta. If you were stuck on an island, what five music CDs from my homeworld would you want to have to listen to for the rest of your life? Same goes for you, Angel."

Davis nods, thinking about the missions he's been on for the CIA and how any small event always turned into a rush to claim responsibility. "No doubt not only are your compatriots claiming responsibility for the events of today, but the Imperium is broadcasting images of the combat, escape and whatever remains the interceptors left behind as proof of our demise. As for what will happen after all this is over..." Davis thinks for a second, "that's a discussion for another day, but for right now, we're here on a mission. I think you can be trusted with this, but you have to tell no one else this, not even others you trust, because this plan is predicated on catching the Imperium by surprise." He pauses to wait for Bello to acknowledge what he just said, then continues. "We're here to steal the information from the Repository of Benevolent Spirits on Napai."

"The Who, Black Sabbath, some sort of Christmas album with variety, whatever has Ride of the Valkyries on it, and Monsters of Rock. I'm sorry, I don't remember the specific datadisk names. You?"

---

Bello's a little surprised. "The... you're going to... steal it? Can you do that? From Napai? You- I mean- you might as well assassinate the Emperor while you're in there."

"Oh, getting into the building probably isn't going to be the hard part," Davis says with a smile on his face. "We're not going to take it out of the building, we just want the information. It can't be isolated from the outside world, it's the nerve center of the cortex network, and it has to have some way of being backed up, either through sending the data to a remote location or by physical media. Either way, we get on Napai, in the ROBS, get the data, and get out."

He sees the still incredulous look on Bello's face. "Think about it, Bello. You want to wound the Imperium? What could be more damaging than a set of criminals wanted all over the galaxy breaking into and stealing the information from one of the most sacred places in the Imperium? And you want to disrupt their operations, to clear the path for planetary independence or whatever? This is something that I've been going over in my mind, and I think it would serve our goals. Instead of carrying the data out of the Repository, we simply send it to everyone. We'd still bring a copy out with us if we can, but otherwise, we just broadcast the whole contents of the Repository through the cortex network and have stations set up to record. After that, we make the data free to anyone who wants it. Think about it, Bello. All of the Imperium's secrets, laid bare for all to see. This wouldn't help the Imperium in any way, since they already know what we're giving out, all it can do is hurt them. All the secret meddling they've done to the planets under their control and the people that they rule over, all their spies and military secrets and experiments will come to light, and it will instantly fracture the Imperium. It might not collapse overnight, but it'll be one hell of a first blow. There's nothing more dangerous to a tyrannical ruler than the idea of not having any secrets."

Angel takes a moment to scope out the terrain in front of them through his rifle right before answering.

"Rust Never Sleeps by Neil Young, Out of Time by R.E.M., The Stone's Greatest Hits, something early Green Day and J.M. Robart's History of the World, in case I ever got insomnia."

"Elvis: Aloha from Hawaii, Frank Sinatra's Greatest Hits, Dark Side of the Moon, The Rev's Full Custom Gospel Sounds, some Stevie Ray Vaughan would be on that list too." replies Max, watching his footing.

"Good choice with Monsters of Rock, Arketta. I never would have thought of that one." adds the Action Scientist.

"Are we there yet, Dad?" quips Max to Angel, the rock in his boot slowly growing to the size of a small boulder.

The implications begin to filter through to Bello. "Your Whiirr would be just one of many who would desert their Emperor. And we would know everything. We would sidestep their legions and strike at the heart of the Imperium. It would be a night of knives and blood."

"I think she'll run," One-Ton interrupts, wiping his hands on his jumpsuit. Mellish starts humming the A-Team theme song. The engineer starts up the sled, which jerks forward a little bit, knocking into the pile of spare parts with a crash, then lifts up quickly, reaches about 2 meters, then settles back to one meter. It's an ugly affair - two bench seats run parallel with the vehicle, like the back of a deuce-and-a-half. The roll cage has been draped with restraint webbing and laced with foliage. A non-reflective mesh replaces the windscreen and HUD. It has no running lights. One-Ton's cannibalized one of the Morningstar's decoy drones and used starship-scale plating to mask the grav impellers' emissions. Every electrical system that's not necessary to fly the sled has been ripped out. He's rigged the same drone's power core into the sled for extra boost.

"She's probably going to burn herself out at top speed, and we haven't exactly tested 'er out, but I'd guess she'd do 250, maybe 300 over level ground. Of course, at that speed that mesh ain't gonna stop much so I'd wear those goggles and helmets ya brought wit' ya."

---

It's well past sundown when Angel spots the telltale cloaking blur of... something crossing a moonlit slope. It's too big for a drone - it's got to be a Whiirr or a stealthed human. Angel gets Max and Arketta into cover and chances another peek. Their pursuer's on the far side of the ridge they crossed, maybe a hair over a half-mile away. A steep slope heads down to more trees and a river on their left side. To their right the terrain's still rather gradual, with the omnipresent jagged slabs spotted with lichen and some scattered scrub. The ridge was a necessary evil to maintain their speed, but it seems it's funneled at least one tracker onto their trail.

Davis gives One-Ton an congratulatory slap on the shoulder. "Damn, One-Ton, I think she'll outrun damn near everyone out there." He turns to Bello. "Do you think your friends can sit tight for a little while longer while we pick up our men still in the field? I'd like to get the ones that are still being hunted before we do anything else."

"They'll sit tight or they'll have moved on," Bello replies. "I'm not chancing a transmission to find out at any rate."

Davis nods. "Good. I'll get Captain Verrill down here and we can figure out who's going and gear up." He walks up to the crew section and sticks his head in the bunk room. "Captain Verrill, we're ready to head out. I'll be down in a bit, I just need to check on Ngawai first."

Davis walks back over to the crash couches to where Ngawai is. "Hey, just checking in on you. Feeling better?"

"Yeah. I don't fancy any gunfights anytime soon, though. When you get around to meeting these people, you best make sure they don't think they'd be better served by turning you in for the bounties. That money'd go a long way towards bribing officials and buying weapons."

"I swear to god, I will turn this interstellar raid around right now..."


Eventually, your choices catch up to you. The rocks have kept the drones off them for an entire afternoon, not a bad outcome, considering. Angel wasn't hoping the elude pursuit forever, and at least it's a human...or Whirr...a nice, fallible human. He motions to Max and Arketta under cover, signaling that there is one pursuer - he hopes - and he makes the universal 'I'm going to go end this bloodily' sign, drawing his finger along his neck.

So far, stealth suits seem to have made the Turai overly reliant on them, Angel has the advantage of knowing he's there, and its dark.

Field Craft vs. Technology, Round One: This ought to be fun.

Davis nods. "We'll be rolling out heavily armed, but it's certainly something to keep an eye out for."

He pauses for a second, and then looks Ngawai in the eyes. "Ngawai, do you want to be here? We didn't exactly get off on the right foot. I'm not calling your allegiances into question here, I think you've more than proved where your loyalties stand, but you've thrown away everything you had to join us, the people who shot at you and killed your friends. Fighting for justice is all well and good, but if you have any animosity towards me, or the team, I want to work with you to get past it."