Taken at Toronto

[Manticore]

Ontario System
Friday, March 13th, 822 AS

His Guardian exited the lane, and he turned his head to gaze at the huge shape of Toronto Station slightly to his left.

The station was one of the largest in this sector, housing several thousand people in several massive wings. The hustle and bustle of this area of space made that evident - supply runs from Los Angeles and Denver were frequent, as were raids by the Lane Hackers. Security had been beefed up in the surrounding space in recent years, and it was clear that Ontario was quickly becoming more of a core system for the Libertonians.

Using thrusters, he kicked his ship closer to the station. "Toronto, this is Navy Zeta four-dash-six. Requesting permission to dock."

The response was swift. "Navy Zeta Four Six, you are cleared to dock in Bay Eight Charlie," the voice had a distinctive smooth accent, not unlike many Gallics. "Welcome aboard Toronto, Commander." A nice personal touch.

"Thank you," the Commander replied. He pulled the stick around and started guiding his Guardian towards the indicated bay. It was a short flight, and the bay doors yawned open in advance of his arrival.

With practiced ease, he maneuvered the fighter through the outer door, then the inner door in turn. The docking back was spacious and brightly-lit, with a number of other small ships parked in neat rows. He parked his Guardian in line with several of the others and powered down. Through his ship's uplink to the station 'net, he requested refueling and launch prep services for the ship.

With that finished, he popped the canopy and exited the ship. Slinging a small black bag over his shoulder, he began walking deeper into the station, ducking between and around parked ships. Once he got clear of the bay, he slotted into some foot traffic headed for one of the major lifts that constantly moved between the various decks of the huge station.

He boarded a lift, along with about twenty other people, and headed upwards. A computerized voice on the lift sang out each deck they stopped at, and he half listened until he heard something that caught his attention.

“Deck twenty-two: University of Toronto, student residences, museum of art…”

He slipped through the crowded lift to exit directly onto this deck’s through way. He immediately noticed that the crowd here was significantly younger than he’d seen elsewhere. From his abbreviated research on the flight over, the university here was small but growing - beginning to draw enrollees from around Liberty. The law school in particular was apparently quite good.

A few minutes were spent wandering the halls of the campus, getting familiar with its cramped but tastefully decorated space. The school took up basically the entire deck - between classrooms, lecture halls, office space, and student housing. Students roamed freely in small groups, and he supposed he could pass as an older student.

Once he was comfortable with the layout, he took a seat on a small bench in the vicinity of the law school classrooms. Pulling a small datapad out of his pocket, he opened up the picture of the person he was looking for - his target’s sister. He looked at her face once again to refresh his memory, then sat back and slid the datapad back into his pocket.

He slung the bag off his shoulder and reached into it, pulling out a small unmarked book, bound in leather. While glancing up at the faces of the students who walked by, he began to read.

Hélas ! vers le passé tournant un œil d'envie,
Sans que rien ici-bas puisse m'en consoler,
Je regarde toujours ce moment de ma vie…