Hidden Cargo

[Kane]

With all the hustle and bustle about, no-body, save the poor overworked traffic controller at Yaren, noticed a lone Hugenot sidle in to dock with Yaren. The traffic controller was too buisy to really care who it was, just as long as he followed the path to the mooring site. "We've never been this busy before... might have to install some new docks or mooring points just to handle all these stupid ships! With all the money they spent on these, they might as well have built a whole d*mned station!" She continued to gripe, and would for several hours as she tried desprately to find mooring and docking ports for all these ships.

DarkStar, in the meantime, was able to dock without incident, and went abord. "Time for a little 'Modification' to CRI's Nomad Containment Units." It was rather simple really. Because the Corsairs knew him, he could pass them without any trouble. He only had to sneak about once he was on the CRI ship that was transporting the NCUs. One guard was in the cargo bay, shineing his flashlight through the rows. DarkStar silently crept along the ceiling, inching his way forward towards the man. He actually looked up, but saw nothing. Why? Thermal/Optical Comoflauge is very handy, and works especially well if you arn't moveing much or at all.
The Houses are right to fear Alien Artifacts... They might be things like this. He drew a small dagger, made from a pure-black metal and inlayed with advanced curcitry made of strange crystals. He let himself drop behind the man, and plunged the knife into his back. With a surge of gravometric force, the man was blown in half. He never had a chance to scream.
DarkStar got to work. It was a simple matter to simply program the macines to reverse their purpose at a random time. They would begin to accelarate the growth of the aliens, bringing them about much faster than previously thought possible, and even giveing them a little jump-start on their abilities. It would be possible for some nomads to be able to take human hosts again within hours of their awakening.
He only hit a few of them, so as to sew terror and fear into people about who would be next. His trip was ended by himself and another guard. DarkStar was to far away to stab him, and also to stop him from seeing his co-workers body. Instead he pullod out a little cylinder about the size of a small pen...

DarkStar stepped over the still bleading corpse. "That should do... Now, on to other buisness." He left the CRI vessel, who would never know their equipment had been tampered with.

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This is the real true story of rock and roll; it was not about anything more then, how to live your life, as a gangster, in sartorial splendor, and turning the world into a place where normality would never return again...- Malcolm McLaren