Post

Cartel posts are green
NUC posts are blue
Sistonia posts are yellow
NIU posts are red
Cymiopolis posts are grey

New York, Yeshiva “Baruch Pinsky”
-Is he really ready?
-Uri, shim’i! Hashem, you don’t trust me, do you?? I AM your brother and I AM this facility main instructor. Tell them he is ready.
-He is just a kid! How old is he? Nineteen?
-Technically he will be tomorrow, but he had bashed to death ten men per year of life, counting when he was drinking mommy milk. Hara, I’m not sure he had a mother… Sure his father was something between Bruce Lee and Devil himself though.
-Izik, listen carefully, I will follow your advice but Hashem see that if you fail I’ll tell ima that you killed a boy on Yom Kippur.
Young orthodox Jew got up from the table and patted his elder brothers on the shoulder.

Cymiopolis, Fiskardo
Gioacchino di Serramarrocco was enjoying himself. More than that, three more ladies were enjoying him also. Life off the ship had it advantages and he could not deny it. Fiskardo may be not biggest town in Cymiopolis, but big enough to have escort agencies. Gioacchino was a pilot, a mercenary, a pirate, but first of all he was Italian. Being Italian means knowing how to enjoy life and wine with some snow helped him staying focused after a week in this shady asteroid. He had three days more to enjoy and he would take everything life could offer. Only one thought overshadowed his happiness – they always call when he is that much pleased. He tried to push this thought away, when commutator was pinged
-Gioacchino, chao, ragazzi! Hope you enjoy yourself!
-Senor, I have holidays….
-And I hope you’ve enjoyed it! We need you at new HQ ASAP. There is package which you have to deliver to our DJ Tribe
-Roger, out.
Gioacchino made unnatural howl, scaring escort ladies. Idiocarasia, for God Sake! They better have nice slaves this time. With full package of arms, legs and eyes.
-So, mamacitas, you have 10 grams and three days payed up more, but noi have 20 minutes more...

North italian union, Port Town of Chioggia
George Cullingham, suspect, was finally happy. Lifetime work under cover is stressing and even more is seclusion in hideout. Finally he could breathe fresh air and smell the sea. He was wearing boxers, sombrero and Hawaii shirt and was seating at the seaside on the sand. Joint, or better say huge weed cigar, tasted like in a first time. There was no such stuff in New united carolinas! Politics is ruthless, almost as Cartelero life, but it is definitely more constraining. He knew that next day he will be hiding again, but that day was mans birthday and high rank officer as him could have one day of rest after 22 years of hard work. Cartel was always thinking bigger than governments could, but its members do not live longer.

Idiocarasia, Arena
Oleg was hearing his pulse slowing down. Two man, one almost giant and another too small, were approaching him at high speed, knives equipped. Their feet were making these ugly noises of nail scratching over concrete. Their ancestors were from somewhere in Oceania, most probably – these tribal knives looked strangely familiar. He heard three others stepping smoothly from behind. “Urody blyad! Who the heck they think I am”. He shouted out loud, surprising enemies.
-I AM RUSSIAN GOD WITH ME!
He ran directly to the one on the left, almost touching wall with his axe. Those at the back rushed forward, but it was late for their buddy. Oleg rolled up and opened like a spring, his axe crushing man metal armor and letting his guts out. He grabbed guts and used them as a rope to catch fastest chaser’s leg. Man felt down, causing one behind him to fell also. Oleg didn’t have time to enjoy a show as Small one tried to hit stab him with knife. Oleg bit his wrist, veins wide open, and let Small to slip past him. This moment mace chopped some skin from his arm with its blades. Oleg felt nothing but this fresh, juicy rage. He grabbed mace handler and pulled it with all his force, taking position behind purser and then forcing him to fell on his knee. Spines crash sound always gives him a boner and it was always untimely.
So two last men standing stared at each other. Oleg saw from leg movement that his enemy was good. Just not good enough, probably. Oleg and enemy were making rounds around each other, starting a dance only one can finish. When position was right, Oleg made a false attack, exposing his left side. That lure was good enough to make his opponent follow. Oleg made a backflip on the wall, and appeared just back from enemy, who was still regaining balance. He never had a chance. Oleg grabbed him by hair and started to beat his face against wall. Deaf sound gave way to wet sound and after ten more punches Oleg was holding a scalp in his head, with his pulse fasting up and crowd roar gaining his attention. He understood that he passed and he responded to crowd.
-RRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

New Raleigh, Old North Province

Kurtis Donnel entered the the CBI headquarters. Employees who recognized him immediately saluted as he walked passed them. Three bodyguards followed closely behind him, internally scanning every corner of the room. Kurtis walked with purpose. He emitted the feeling of power. He approached the front desk, racking the nerves of the secretary behind it. “I need to speak to Nyle.” He said. “It’s disclosed matter concerning the Republic.” The secretary was frozen. “Of course. I’ll let him know you’re coming.” She attempted to salute. “Stop. No need to Salute. Thank you.” Kurt said. “Right” she said. She opened the security doors that led to the elevator. He walked towards it, his guards following close. One stayed behind while the other two boarded the elevator with him.

They silently rode to the top floor, shoulder to shoulder. Eventually, the elevator chimed and slid open, revealing a short hallway with doors leading to offices of top officials of the CBI. Kurtis walked towards the back end of the hallway, where Nyle Cardenas, the CBI director, was currently working.

Kurtis knocked 4 quick times. “Honorable secretary! Come on in.” A voice said from the other side. Kurtis walked in, once again leaving a guard to stand watch outside the office.

“Good to see you, Mr.Donnel.” Nyle said, reaching out to shake his hand. Kurtis returned it. “I suppose you know why I’m here?” Kurtis asked, taking a seat. Nyle opened one of the password locked file holders. “About Cullingham? Yeah, I know.” “The man is a national threat. We don't know what intel he has on the country.”
Kurtis said, crossing his leg over the other. “I hope the CBI managed to find his whereabouts.”

Nyle pulled out one of the holographic files. “Sorry to disappoint. But unfortunately we didn’t find much.” He placed the folder on the desk for Kurtis to read. “Ever since Oopsidroppedmyrightsburg reverted back to PotaTown, he completely disappeared. Like a ghost. Don’t even know how. I have some men out there investigating the living quarters they kept him in. Its like he was never there at all.”

Kurtis sighed, staring at the loosely connected notes, documents, and pictures in the file. He deactivated it and gave it back to Nyle. “The President will not be happy.” He said. Nyle shrugged. “I’ve got an entire floor dedicated to investigating this dude. He disappeared with no trace at all. We’re doing the best we can.”

“Well what about his crime?” Dennis asked. Maybe you can find something there or...?” “We’re on that too, but its hard to say something definitive.” Nyle said, taking out another holographic file. He turned it on, and opened a virtual document. “This shows the provincial budget of the past 3 years he’s been in office. Pretty average for a Carolinian Province. But we had reason to believe that theres actually a percentage of money being taken out of these categories, since a lot of very important projects or funds have gone under paid, despite how carefully the budget was calculated. The first two years, it was assumed to be miscalculation. But this year, a few Appalachian treasurers realized that a sizable chunks of cash that would’ve helped with school funding, transportation, provincial internet connection had just disappeared.”

“Yes...” Donnel said, staring at the graphic. “We have reason to suspect that the money is going somewhere within the charitable budget for the province.” Nyle continued, opening another virtual document. “Look at this. This is the charitable budget. Notice this one here.” He pointed at a listed charity at the bottom of the list. Donnel read carefully. ‘Henry Bonito foundation.’ “I see. What about it?”

“Well, we tried checking it out, but the foundation is so obscure. It claims to be a food donation service in Boone. Its been recognized by Appalachia government, but not the federal government. It must’ve slipped under our radar. So naturally we began tracking the Appalachian expenditures, and as we could see...” he pulled up yet another virtual document, detailing the real percentages of money vs the proposed budget. A lot of that money is going to the appropriate receivers. Except theres no mention of the Henry Bonito foundation. Instead, theres an unmarked account that’s apparently located in Cymiopolis.”

“Cymiopolis?” Kurtis said, a little shocked. “Yes. But thats not all. We took initiative to track his private messages through his phone plan provider. He was sending messages to a Idiocarasian number with no contact information. The phone’s owner is untraceable and theres like, nothing on it. Almost like its being used for this one purpose only.”

“Whoa... they have phones in Idiocarasia?” Kurtis asked. “It shocked me too, but thats besides the point.” Nyle said, chuckling to himself. “But whats weird is that once he found out we were investigating him, he fled to Oopsidroppedmyrightsburg. Which he seemingly had no connection with... except for this note right here.”

He pulled up a picture of a handwritten note they had found in the governor’s home. “Your ride has come. Run. You’re going home. “ it read. “No cameras in the area caught any cars. It was 3am when the nearby security cameras in the area shut down. This tells me he was gone by this time.”

“So we have possible nations he could be in: PotaTown, Cymiopolis, or Idiocarasia?” “Thats correct. But the reason why i way we dont have much luck is that we have our forces investigating in these locations with no avail. The account isn’t actually in Cymiopolis despite its supposed location. They somehow changed its location. There was also no records of a plane landing at any airport in Cymiopolis originating from PotaTown in the only possible time frame he could’ve arrived. Not even a mention of a true identity marker. “What about Idiocarasia?” Kurtis asked. “Most planes that go to Idiocarasia never return from Idiocarasia... it’d be very stupid to go there.”

“So whats left?” Kurtis asked. “See we’re not sure.” Nyle said, closing the file. All we can think of is that he was most likely smuggling money for an illegal business or institution. And he probably had accomplices working in the treasury with him. Three of them disappeared a few days after he fled.”

“Hmm...” Kurtis said, deep in thought.. “Sorry Mr. Donnel. Its all we have.”

SIC

A) (If on Earth) After Idiocarasian pirates preyed on the Empire's planets, the forces remaining on Earth have been keeping a close eye on those that remain to deter them from future endeavors. However, satellites have picked up a ship from Cymiopolis on a direct course to Idiocarasia. After sending a drone to the area to identify the ship, pictures lead us to believe that the famous mercenary/pirate Gioacchino di Serramarrocco is aboard the ship. The purpose of his trip is not clear, but capture may be an option should the situation present itself. We believe that bringing TIE fighters will keep him from escaping, while a transport and troops can arrive to arrest him.

B) (If in space) The Imperial Navy has been cracking down on the Idiocarasian pirates since their ordeal of our dig site. Due to this, the numerous patrols sent out has picked up traces of a lone ship headed towards (supposed) Idiocarasian space. After scanning the ship, we believe that it is the notorious pirate/mercenary Gioacchino di Serramarrocco who is aboard this ship. Should he continue into the Idiocarasian space, a incapacitated merchant freighter will be used as bait to lure him in for a rich and easy prize, to end up surrounded by a fleet.

C) The Imperial Military Intelligence has heard of whispers of George Cullingham trying to evade the New United Carolinian government. The Emperor wishes for all available agents to discover the whereabouts of Cullingham and to offer him safe haven in New Sistonia. This asset has been labeled as USEFUL so minimal physical and psychological damage should be maintained throughout the mission.

Presidential Palisade 992 (Unnamed). 5 minutes till lift off.

Ariana stifled a belch. She felt bloated, a common symptom if her nervousness. “Excuse me...” she muttered. “Madam President. Do you need some Pepto Bismol?” Her advisor asked. They were well aware of her nervous habits. “Yes. Thank you, Drew.” She said. He pulled out the chewable and handed her one. “It won't be long until launch. Make sure you buckle up. I’ll stay with you just in case.” “Thank you.” She said.

Something about this case caused her so much grief. She didn't know why exactly. It's not the first time the government has dealt with people like this. It’s just mind-boggling how he infiltrated and stole millions of Palmets right under their noses. And at least to her knowledge, it was unknown as to where it all went. The thought made her sick. Money couldn’t have been the only thing he stole. Information as well. About the politics, the government, the citizens of Appalachia. She was just glad her political bias kept her closed off from him. As well as standard presidential protection protocol. He had to be stopped before whoever he’s working obtains it.

The ship was packed with the crew, government workers, and a few lucky civilian passengers scrambling to get to a seat. Everyone around her saluted, but she didn’t notice. She just wanted to see her husband, her kids, and this launch.

They arrived at the office. The door slid open, revealing the waiting Kurtis Donnell. He sat alone, staring outside the open window overlooking the airport. “Hello, Ms.Thompson,” Kurtis said. The office had one desk and three plush leather seats. “Let me move your seat to the window. Can't miss the launch, right?” He stood up from his desk seat and went to shake her hand. He pressed a button on one of the seats and picked it up to move. Drew did the same. “What does that button do?” She asked. “The furniture can magnetize itself to the floor. You know, to prevent movement during takeoff.” He said, placing it down. Ariana took her seat.

She stifled another burp. “Nervous?” Donnell asked. “Yeah... sorry, I took a Pepto Bismol, I guess it hadn’t started working yet.” She said, blushing with embarrassment. “Excuse me.” “We’re friends just as well as co-workers. No need to apologize.” Kurtis reassured. “Your nervousness is understandable.”

They stared out at the anticipating crowd below. In the distance was Greenville’s gorgeous skyline. She didn’t know how long it’d be till she’d get to see that again.

“Ariana, I’m sorry I’m interjecting myself in your trip. But its a matter of great importance. We’ve found a few possible locations in which Cullingham may be hiding.” “Is that so..?” Ariana said, still staring outside. “Yes, ma’am. The CBI narrowed it down to three possible nations.” He said. He took one of those fancy holographic files, and turned it on, revealing a series of pictures, and a map of the world’s nation.

“You see, the CBI informed me that the money was going to a bank account in Cymiopolis. But after tracking his texts and emails, they all led back to a single-purpose phone in Idiocarasia. But after some further digging, and cooperating with allies, we found this.” He zoomed in on the map, until he reached a pin-pointed coastal town by the name of Chioggia in North Italian Union. Ariana stared blankly at the map. “Wait...” she said.

She was interrupted by a peaceful jingle coming from the intercom. “Attention passengers and crew, welcome aboard the Presidential Starship. We are about to take initiate lift off in one minute. Please make sure you are buckled securely.” Ariana fastened her seatbelt, as did Kurtis and Drew.

“I’ll make this quick. The CBI took another look at the flight records, naval records, and more. But we noticed one interesting thing. A plane with the Callsign NTI3820 left Hickory-Porter International Airport a day after his disappearance. Soon after it left Carolinian territory, it’s radar was suddenly shut off. Then it reappeared 11 hours later near North Italy.” Kurtis said. Ariana was trying to comprehend what was happening. “Luckily, we have the flight plan saved. The plane circled above Chioggia before disappearing again. Then it reappeared near Venice and eventually landed there. What's interesting is that the plane was painted in the Palmetto Air cargo livery, according to ground control and ATC. But it didn’t make sense considering the callsign. Just as they reported it, bam, the plane was gone off of the radar.”

“Oh my...” Ariana thought. “But if that's him, how did he get the plane, or the crew or the-“ Suddenly, a loud deep grow emitted from the ship. The jingle played again. “Attention passengers. We’re now initiating lift off. Crew, please stand by. Mars or bust.” And just like that, the crowd, the airport, and the city began to shrink as the ship began hovering. Slowly but surely, the ship lifted off, higher and higher. In less than a minute they were definitely over 3000 feet in the air. “To answer your question, we don’t know. Perhaps the false treasurers also knew how to pilot. Regardless, of have a general location. The CBI is investigating if he has a false identity or not currently, and tracking his connections. But don’t worry madam President, we’re on his tail now.”

Ariana sighed in relief. “Thank God.” She said. Kurtis chuckled. “Yeah, no kidding.” “Madam President,” Drew said. “Need another Pepto Bismol, by any chance?” Ariana smiled. “No, I think I’m good.” “Alright,” Drew responded, serious as ever.

The ship began to rotate. It was surprisingly smooth and quiet. That was until a loud roar erupted towards the back. The main boosters were activated. And with that, they started moving. Fast. Incredibly fast. “Oh my God!” Ariana said, half cheering half screaming. Kurtis and Drew smiled at her joy. The clouds damn near disappeared immediately as they climbed higher and higher with incredible vertical speed. The ship shook a lot as it began to leave Earth’s atmosphere. A loud boom, perhaps the sound barrier breaking, was heard from the outside.

“Not a lot of people can say they became President AND went to space,” Ariana said. Her anxiety had completely disappeared. “Certainly not,” Drew replied.

And in an instant, they were in space. Ariana saw it all. The continent if North America and a bit of South America were all within view. Then it was Africa. Then she could see Europe and Asia, lit up with millions of little lights. Then, it was Earth in its entirety. Needless to say, it was beautiful.

Venice, Comando dei Carabinieri (Police Station) 9.25 AM

Marshal Amadeus Cecchini was looking at the files and records of three men recently arrested at Chioggia. They were temporarily secluded in the prison of Giudecca (little island in front of Venice). Two of them were carolinian and one was russian and they had been arrested for illegal trafficking and trespassing. They were helping the infamous George Cullingham to escape from the New United Carolinas. The accused people were actually more than three, maybe even ten men but the rest of them had managed to escape together with Cullingham.
Captain Fedeli, responsible of the operation entered in the Marshal Office.
> "* cough cough * Maresciallo, our team has gathered news about the three criminals."
Marshal Cecchini looked at the captain with his cold eyes.
> "What about them Capitano?"
>"Their names are Ronald Revolver, Frank Harrison and Vasily Kandosky. They were already been accused of minor crimes in the New United Carolinas and they were probably just minor thugs working for Cullingham."
Marshall Cecchini snorted.
>"I expected more from you Captain you let more than 10 men, probably already convicted in the NUC, escape freely and they are now probably roaming all around Europe! You just gave us the thugs!"
Captain Fedeli swallowed hard. The Marshal was famous for his bad temperament.
>"But... Wait Maresciallo there's more about this. We discovered to what clan the men they protected belonged to! They were trying to let him safely go across Europe after escaping from the New United Caroli..."
>"Trying! They managed to do it! That man is now safely hidden somewhere in Europe! Porca Puttana!"
The Marshal was red and angry. "What's the clan name anyway?"
Fedeli looked afraid.
>"It's Cartel de la Letra, Marshall."
>"Merda. This is serious stuff then".

Idiocarasia, Caves.
Oleg enjoyed his new life in caves. Deep inside he always felt primitive man, who should live in cave, mate what he can, eat what he hunts and fighting what he sees. So he had mixed feelings when he heard about a project. He didn’t know much about it, but he knew that this was it. The very thing he was given these vacations for. So he stalked, he spied and he finally found. Deep in caves, somewhere that deep that he was not even sure if he was allowed to be here. To be honest, he was sure before he had to kill some junky who was wandered there, bulging eyes, eating his own lips. Little pressure on cage rip and heart stopped beating. Looked accidental and anyway who cares?
Completely different task was infiltrating a lab. Oleg was nothing but small person, so these stealth attempts were literally Hercules deeds. Luckily, tools he had taken from Cartel Big Brain back in Calcutta were working perfectly. He managed to bypass security protocol by pretending to be lab janitor, but then things went south.
-Hey, who the hell are you?
One of these egghead scientists was standing at the doorstep and looked at Oleg with surprise.
-Govori po russki, pidoras!
-I’m going to call security now!
Oleg jumped to the scientist and grab him by throat, lifting man up.
-I will repeat in English – you should speak your new security officer language. Or you will be troubled. I’m citadel guard and I’m performing pentesting here. Guess what – you have failed, suka blyad.
Oleg dropped a man, who fell like a bag of kartoshka. Without a second to breath in, Oleg dragged him to some kind of PC.
-So, what is your name?
-Johnathan, officer..
-You can call me Oleg later, but now I’m your intruder. – Oleg supplemented his words with light slap, which caused scientist to attack a desk with his head, resulting in loose of few teeth. – Now, you must enter password or I’ll kill you! Do it, urod, hurry up! And don’t do anything stupid.
Soon scientist had entered password and let Oleg download all data.
-Ole.. Intruder! Are these drills over?
-Yes, and you have failed. Do you know what it means for you? I’ll see you at arena this night!
-But maybe we can do something with this issue…
Oleg understood where this talk was going. He went out of the lab room with his new shiny golden cross, new holodevice and few credits as an addition to all project data.

Outer Space.
Gioacchino was angry. Porca miseria! New sistonia Imperial Navy was anything but a joke and he understood his only option.
-Peaceful trader Gioacchino to Sistonia Navy Cruiser. I’m ready for docking and clearing all misunderstandings. Mangia merde e morte, cornuto.
Soon he opened ship’s ramp just to see Sistonia Marines holding him at crosshairs.
-Сiao, cagacazzos! To what do I owe the pleasure? You can inspect my ship if you want – nothing there.
Commanding officer of Sistonia stepped from a line and waved his hand, signaling troops to low down weapons.
-Gioacchino di Serramarrocco, you are under arrest for multiple charges of robbery, smuggling and being narcissistic jerk.
-I’m insulted with such insinuation! I didn’t know that Sistonia law considers rumors a legal base! – Gioacchino gave soldiers his best sarcastic grin while saying this. Manache! Worst of all he would have to break from another prison, but he had instructions which could save his pretty face.

Cell reminded him worst android brothels he had ever been in – colorless metal walls, table reminding bed – or bed reminding table? – and latrine. He stood up in the middle of the room and started waiting for someone to enter. But it was him who was dragged into interrogation room in blindfold. He was forced to seat on the chair and first thing he saw was a lady in nonmilitary uniform.
-Hello, officer! Maybe we will skip formalities straight to alla pecorina?
-Andare a puttane, Gioacchino. You are in deep trouble and you should know that.
Italian of a lady was flawless and this gave Gioacchine a bad thought – they had to be waiting for him and they had prepared.
-So, what is your offer?
-We are not here to negotiate, signor Serramarrocco. I’m obliged by law to inform you that you basic rights are denied due to your unclear status at this ship. We will use any means necessary to make you confess.
-How about another option? But I have several conditions – I’ll be set free, you will erase all my criminal records you had unlawfully crafted, I’ll be paid for inconvenience and we will dine together.
-I must admit, Gioacchino – che palle! I will be glad to give you a taste of our New Sistonian Navy water at our pretty board, but I’ll be polite and let you finish.
-Just three words – George Cullingham intel.
Gioacchino had to admit – lady definitely knew how to play. She went out and left him waiting for five hours. After that guards entered again, put on blindfold and took him back to the cell. The lady was already there.
-My superiors are ready to negotiate. About your terms – we could not fulfill them completely .
-What a pity! I had such a restaurant in my mind…
-We won’t pay you, that’s what I meant.

New united carolinas, New Raleigh
Old North Province was looking fantastic from helicopter. Rich and fertile lands, rich and fertile people. North America had to become something like this after all miseries of XX and XXI century. Rafael wished to conduct negotiations in person, but he had been too busy last days in Cymiopolis, so Lucy had to go alone. Somethings are taught only in personal relationships and they definitely developed one since Rafael, her little pulpo, arrived. She had a meeting with shady Intelligence agent in top restaurant of Capital, “Transmetropolitan”.
Lucy dressed in a red evening dress from latest Johnny Chue collection. Rafael presented it to here even before it was demonstrated in public and this was a gift she appreciated. It was not hard for her to notice her guy – these intelligence men had something in their face, something obvious for sicario – something familiar.
She joined a table and intelligence guy offered her some of the finest wine they had, as he described. Lucy nodded and thought that it was all weird – she is not suited for such tasks, but Rafael insisted.
-So, honey, let us talk business. We would like to establish good relationships and I guess you will appreciate some intel from Idiocrasia for a reasonable price. You mind these trader ships of yours, don’t you?

North italian union, Milan
Masengo Kitoko had to do it by his own. He lacked expertise, but he definitely was one responsible for a success. And now these poor bastards were locked up and there was a rumor that Ronald Revolver started talking. Luckily, he had construction contract with NIU correction facilities. Luckily, he had a family to motivate him. Luckily, he had arms, he got laws, he got right people to break them.

North italian union, State Correction Facility 22
Donald McNulty was doing his time. Last twenty years he spent in prison and he took on himself every charge Cartel asked him to. His eye socket was very itchy this evening – it was every time he had to do something for these, who care about his family. He didn’t worry much about beating that would follow up, but possibility of not seeing his great- grandson haunted him. After lock up there won’t be any visitors for at least half a year.
But there were things to be done. He walked to his seat in canteen, but stopped for a moment near leader of Nigerian gang. He gave a look to his comrades – they nodded to him one by one, confirming that they’ve received tools. Second later he made a wide cut at the Nigerian’s face, cutting his eyes out.
-KILL ALL BROTHERS, RACE WAR NOW!
He hated white supremacy ideals because of his Jewish mother, Chinese wife and now a black great-grandson , but in prison all choices you have are hard choices. This night would be Revolver's last and many men will pass with him to afterlife. Donald felt something cold at the side and saw a prison knife deep into his leaver. I hope great-grand would be better than me.

Location: Head Office of the Ministry of Intelligence

Word had just reached Alexandros Ypsilantis, Minister of Intelligence, that Ventus Prime had declared war on New Sistonia. On one hand he was conflicted, for Cymiopolis considers itself an ally of both a nations. While the Sistonians have given us FTL propulsion technology and an interstellar colony of our own, the CSF regularly patrols the moons of Jupiter with the Ventuans. On the other hand, the mantra of the Most Serene Republic is to make as much money.

While pondering how to profit off this war without alienating anyone, Ypsilantis remembered the covert deal the Ministry of Intelligence has with the Cartel de la Letra. He immediately ordered his secretary to call Rafael Beltrán Fuentes.

Alexandros: Mr. Beltrán Fuentes, how long would it take you to reach the capital? It's urgent.
Rafael: That depends Mr. Ypsilantis. I'm kind of busy at the moment with these two beautiful γυναίκες.
Alexandros: I see your Greek is getting better. Just hurry it up μαλάκα.

Two hours later, the two met at the helipad outside the Intelligence Center. On the way to the Minister's office, Rafael couldn't help but check out the secretary. Once inside, Alexandros got straight to business. His proposition was simple: Using the Cartel's expertise in the field, they will smuggle Cymiopolitan-produced methamphetamines to both sides. Cymiopolis (and the Cartel) will be drowning in Panameros, while both the Sistonians and Ventuans will benefit from the increased alertness and performance from the contraband.

Alexandros: How does that sound? Are your boys up for the task?
Rafael: Not a problem, φιλέ. This isn't our first rodeo. We will need an FTL cargo vessel though.
Alexandros: That's great to hear. As for a ship, I'm pretty sure the Ministry the can provide you with a Autolycus DR-26
Rafael: Excelente! Just one more thing.
Alexandros: What is it?
Rafael: What's your secretary's number?
Cymiopolis, Cartel HQ
Rafael was dining in new canteen. He had to admit that this food maybe even little bit too good for sicarios – they will get fat with ease. Churros were magnificent and chocolate was just like in his childhood. In any other situation he would sent Gioacchino to manage whole ops, but he definitely could not go to Sistonia again – heat was still high. He would do better in Ventus Prime – there was this system, Kepler 422 and some of the settlers owed something to the Cartel. This would be easiest attack surface and risks were always lowering in proportion with distance from Earth. Hygeiea base was suited perfectly on the way, so Gioacchino would operate from there as soon as he would return from Sistonia. Ventus fleet was rather big, but war usually spares no resource of military ships and cripples logistics. Change in routes due to martial law gave few opportunities…
And speaking of Sistonia there was a sleeping agent…

Asteroid belt, Hygeiea.
Fransua Maghribi felt this ship. It was nor beautiful, neither it was fast. It was average, and this was it biggest advantage. It won’t look suspicious, that’s it. Still there were some improvements, like boxes hidden from scanning in reactor radiation, stealth field generator and countless traps. New logo of PRISM consulting was looking nice, but it had another destination as well. Paint was completely neutral substance, but in combination with completely neutral washing liquid from service bots it was making potent explosive, strong enough to damage bigger ship hangar for good. If things went south he had no right to reveal a scheme.
Long ago his ancestors were pirates of Tangiers, not so long ago they were cappers of Great War, so he had full commitment to the cause. He knew that they will hug him in Jannah or, more possible, drink with him in Jahannam.
His legend was not legend at all – he was a senior partner in Interstellar Trade Risks Department indeed. Also he was a high-level smuggler who was never caught. He used to tell everyone that God loves him, but truth was more prosaic – Cartel always supplemented him with someone, who will take all charges. He knew the risks perfectly, although he had worked in Risk Department only half a year instead of 20 written in CV. His legends were changing constantly and he was augmented for such stress. He was immune to threats by a nature, but immunity for tortures was a little bio implant gift. Those implants mimicries as a brain cells, but they adjust hormonal status to fade pain away. In fact, Abdallah was more valuable than ship and cargo combined for this implant only, not mentioning expertise. Heavy augmentation was justified by most of his legends, but this one had a reason for having them all – PRISM consulting was barely human in all means.
The contract that they had in Galactic City was made with nothing less than State Health System supplier. Leveraging impact of change, continuous education, risk management, supply chain optimization and full support package – Ventus was famous for its universal health care and definitely they could allow themselves PRISM. Supply chain optimization plan was based on Omni channel logistics network improvement. There is no need to say that one of Cartel legal fronts would won contract for delivery of rare medicine and that they would operate with this ship. Now Abdallah had to demonstrate proof of concept and he decided to supervise this in person. Distribution networks was based on gambling ring in Marine Corps – card debt is a sacred one, especially when paying it means more money to spend.

New sistonia, Evfrippe III
A caravan was moving fast in total darkness. Eclipses were not seldom at this desert world. Mix of antigravity cars, cargo hovercrafts and guards with all dimensional jetpacks. Few drones of doubtful origins were reckoning the way ahead. Meeting point was in half a day from current location of caravan. Abdel Rahim Dagalo was enjoying the climate. Cymiopolis was too cold and wet for him, especially in the mountains. But this meth should develop a different kind of addiction and his chemistry expertise was needed there. Main difference was an addiction mechanism – with help of PRISM, Abdel had developed new formula, which really affects body possibilities. Thus made this meth must have drug after first use, but it’s toxic impact was all aimed at the head. It didn’t have any downs, it was easy to take and cheap to use, but it’s way of use reminded more of a ancient opiate – morphine. You may stop taking it for a while, but you will be junky till the end. With Sistonia's relaxed drug laws soon it will be as crucial for military as ammo.