Distortion

[Omicron]

“Anna Heinrich? On Curacao?” The operative would have laughed if he did not leave his humor at the tip of the shrapnel received during too close of a duel against the Core pilot a few years back. “And bringing her to an Order facility was considered a good idea?” He challenged the wisdom of bringing the uninitiated to knowledge of even just one of multiple listening posts scattered across the Houses. The Admiral would have made his counterpoint “Think of it as the last time you shipped that Blood Dragon off-world. Heinrich was the most pro-Order Hessian that actually used her brains.” Though he himself was pleased that his subordinates dared to question things and developed a healthy degree of paranoia to befit a field intelligence operative. “Me and the Miss Hessian will be having a talk, then we will pick supplies for Atum. Nice and easy.”

Unmarked Voyager approached the hangar bay, below the control room and rotated its aft to front before touching down. Cargo elevator extended, allowing its crew to disembark. None of them were uniformed, suited in undercover garments that made them resemble a rag team of freelancers. Admiral too did not wear any uniform, instead opting for a casual outfit he used to wear off-duty on Akabat. He definitely was more used to colder climates of Gran Canaria, Akabat and old dreams that were now planet Toledo. He saw the Commander, soon to be Commandant Luciano Marquez in the doors leading to inside of the base. Golanski put on the sunglasses and headed down inside to the complex. “Glad you could make it to Drake. The Order had made a difference that day.” He greeted the officer, signalling to tone down the protocols and duty in favor of a more casual encounter.

“No need to salute this time.”

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