"Benson, do me a favor and heat this up, would you?"

"Of course sir," the spry young sergeant replied, motioning for the Captain to hand over the mug of Nhuai tea.

Captain Jalep Mulukker set his mug down on a steel-framed end table and stepped towards the large window in his quarters at the Caldari Navy Assembly Plant, looking out at the bustling spaceport. Through his faint reflection in the glass, he watched as freighter after freighter hauled loads of goods to and from market. The huge, lumbering giants shuffled through the crowded station's docking entrance in a slow motion ballet surpassed in its grandeur only by the planets themselves. The goliaths maneuvered in gentle arcs before sliding into warp, off to points unknown.

"The engine of the entire economy," he thought.

Jalep had always been resourceful enough, pulling himself up by his bootstraps from time to time to make ends meet. But being poor gets old. "Time to do something bigger," he said to himself.

His mind began to wander. Imagining the vast volumes of ores being imported, molded into something more useful, more valuable. "Industry." His eyes narrowed, fixating on a ship. He speculated as to its purpose.

"It's all right here, Benson," Jalep sighed, without turning around. "Industry is what makes New Eden turn; even a fool can see it. The only question is what to do about it." Hands behind his back, he continued to stare out at the port, contemplating. "Yes, now is the time for action."

Jalep spun around at once and strode over to his Neocom console. He dropped into his chair and set to work. His fingers slid across the sleek glass surface as he navigated a series of menus, submenus, and tooltips.

Eventually he found what he was looking for: Molior Enterprises Group, a corporation of industrialists

who focused on providing New Eden with the supplies it demanded. "The fuel for the engine of the economy," the corporation advertisement read.

"Perfect."

Filled with enthusiasm and focus, Jalep furiously typed up an application. It was packed with platitudes and absolutes, the likes of which only a young capsuleer could be capable. He gushed about "invigorating the economy" and "maximizing shareholder value," for reasons as lofty as the "greater good" and "economic liberty."

Jalep read and reread the application. Editing, rephrasing, adding detail where none was needed. Eventually, he was satisfied and with a slow exhale, he tapped the "submit" button.

*****

Hours later Jalep was awoken by a blue light gently pulsing on his Neocom console. Wiping the crust from his eyes, he straightened up in his chair and struggled to bring the new mail into focus.

"l’ve been... invited... to an interview."

"l’ve been invited to an interview!" he sprang up. "Benson! Ready my shuttle, we're going to... Dodixie. Gallente space! Hot damn!" Benson was already on his way to the hangar to make preparations.

Jalep marched down the hallway towards his hangar, bursting inside with enthusiasm. He stopped in his tracks suddenly when he saw Benson loading provisions into the standard Minimatar Shuttle.

"Benson!" he barked, "what are you doing, why aren't we taking the Leopard?"

"Sir, we sold the Leopard last month to fund your Pilot's License Extension."

"What?!"

"You gave me explicit orders, sir, after the third warning notice from CONCORD."

Jalep relented. It seemed his epiphany regarding the financial benefits of industry were not entirely out of the blue. The Captain was always short on ISK.

"Fine, fine. Let's just get going, shall we?

*****

"Jalep Malukker, I presume?" squeaked a voice that seemed to originate as much from the nose of this skinny capsuleer as it did his mouth. Jalep had found himself in a wood-lined conference room in the Federal Navy Assembly Plant station, packed with leather-bound chairs and digital screens.

"My name is Zariah Reed, Chief Executive Officer of Molior Enterprises, "he adjusted his glasses and put out his hand.

The captain obliged and coughed up an awkward "pleasure to meet you," before taking the seat the CEO had presented.

"Can I offer you anything? Coffee perhaps?" Zariah offered.

"l would love some Nhuai tea, if you've got it," Jalep asked, immediately regretting the imposition.

The CEO produced a polite smile and nodded to one of his assistants, who scurried off to find the rare tea.

"Now then, let's get started," Zariah announced, sitting down. "From looking through your file, it appears you have very little in the way of industrial experience. Small combat ships, mostly. Frigates, destroyers. Why it seems you're barely capable of flying the most basic hauler-" he stopped mid- sentence. Leaning back in his chair and craning his neck over his shoulder, he shouted "Collins do we even fly Wreathes these days?"

"A bit, sir," answered the tall mining director as he poked his head in the conference room. "Mostly to move low cost items between mining operations."

"Low cost... mining operations... how very exciting," thought Jalep. Expending much willpower, he maintained his composure. This corporation was his ticket to economic independence, after all. If hauling junk in a tin can is what was required, than that is just what he'd do.

"Ah, well there you go," said Zariah, returning to Jalep's application. "Well, we could certainly use more freighter pilots, that's for sure. You think you're up to the task? Fenrir, I suppose it'd be for you. What do you think?"

What did Jalep think? He thought a Fenrir might as well cost as much as the Space Station they were sitting in, so much more expensive it was than anything he'd ever flown. Not wanting to sound like a complete peasant, the young Captain straightened up and cleared his throat. "Yes, that sounds wonderful. It'll take me some time to save up for one, and of course the training. But I'm happy to do it."

"Excellent." The CEO stood up. "Welcome aboard. We'll get you started ferrying some mining drones out to our Scordite operation in Colelie. There's a convoy departing within the hour, join up with them. Collins will allocate you a Wreathe from our corporate hangar and introduce you to its crew. Good luck."

"Thank you, sir" Jalep said, as the two shook hands once more. They left the room and Jalep began to find his way to the hangar. He found Benson along the way and showed off his new corporation ID tag with a quick lift of his brow.

"I'll need you to look after things for me back in Jita," he instructed the Sergent.

"Best of luck, sir."

*****

As Jalep navigated the corridors of the station, he began to review what he'd say to his crew. Never mind he'd not flown a Wreathe in ages. Or more than once, for that matter. "Forget that." This was his job now and he was going to be the best dammed tier 1 hauler Captain New Eden had ever seen. "This stuff is 90 percent confidence," he told himself with a deep breath.

As he arrived, the door to the hangar bay slid out of the way with a hiss of releasing gas, revealing his vessel. The crew were scattered about the hangar, leisurely preparing the ship and recounting their adventures from the night before.

"So then Jonah walks in two minutes later with this huge-" a burley engineer, half covered in bearing grease, stopped mid-sentence when he noticed the Captain entering. "Sir." He stood up, wiping his hands on his overalls, "l..." he cleared his throat "I am Miat lnmaal, First Engineer." He shoved out a grease-caked hand.

"Jalep Malukker" good to meet you, as he shook Miat's hand. "Good to meet all of you," his voice echoed around the bay. We'll be shoving off in 20 minutes. Let's look sharp."

With some reservation, Miat leaned in and whispered to the Captain, "sorry you pulled the short end of the stick here." Nodding towards the Wreathe.

"How so?"

"Well sir, it's just these ships, they're not that..."

"Speak up Ensign — what is it?"

"Well, sir, their cargo hold is a bit on the small side. Can't take too much punishment either. Not sure why we even use ‘em. A bit faster, I guess, whatever that's worth."

"lnmaal," he adopted an instructional tone. "Speed and agility. Gotten me out of more than a few tight squeezes. Don't underestimate it." Jalep’s eyes locked on the ensign's. "18 minutes til shove off, let's move."

With that, Jalep and the rest of the crew boarded the Wreathe and began undocking procedures amid flashing warning lights and ringing claxons. The ship slid out of the undock and formed up with the other haulers bound for Colelie.

"80 percent thrust starboard. Stabilizers full." The Captain commanded.

"Sir, 80 percent?" Questioned lnmaal with some trepidation.

"80 percent thrust starboard. Now."

The ship lurched around, its hull groaning, throwing a few crewmen off balance. The crew had not seen such aggressive flying before. Their industrial Captains had mostly been gentle with the ships, preferring not to stress hull, nor crew. Jalep, in truth, was a bit surprised himself by just how taxing move it was. He'd ordered frigates whipped around much more quickly. But this was no frigate. "Play it cool," he thought. No sense in letting the crew know just how new this was to him. The Captain's white knuckle grip on his console railing relaxed as the ship came into alignment.

"Engage warp drive."

As the ships slid in to warp, Jalep dropped in to his chair and began to review their route. "5 Jumps, not bad. This’ll be easy." And it was, at least for the first 3 jumps. As the Wreathe exited the stargate in Aufay and began forming up with the rest of the convoy, Jalep jumped up. His eyes widened.

"One, two, three, four— oh no," Jalep exclaimed.

"Sir? What is it"

"Catalysts. It's a suicide squad, for sure. Look! They're approaching our Tayra."

"Sir are you sure? It seems that CONCORD would-"

Jalep cut him off. "100 percent thrust Port side. Stabilizers full. Engage polycarbon housings. Dilate the thruster nozzle Joints wide open! Now!"

The crew, still unsure what Jalep was up in arms about, scrambled to execute the Captain's orders. They were a jumbled mess of spilled coffee and cursing. Jalep's thoughts, however were crystal clear. That Tayra was hauling 230 million ISK of mining modules and drones. Those Catalysts were going to tear it apart. CONCORD? They might show up in time to salvage the wreck, but it'd be up to him to save his sister vessel.

"Hail the Tayra now, tell it to burn towards us."

"Yes sir," the communications officer replied, his voice trembling. The Catalysts were closing on the much slower Caldari hauler. They were closing fast. There was ice in Jalep's veins. He'd faced pirates many times before, with much more on the line. The Wreathe's hull moaned in agony as the Captain's orders pushed it to its limit. The sound of its steel frame straining to maintain its shape reverberated throughout. The crew, however, was silent. Their voices seized by fear.

"Ashanda Maulerant, you have foolishly engaged in criminal activity and will be punished" announced the CONCORD interstellar communications beacon. They had begun attacking the Tayra. White-hot blaster bolts tore through its fragile shields. Time slowed. Jalep's eyes scanned his overview.

"Align to the Catalyst of Ashanda Maulerant, full speed!" The Wreathe's engines roared, shaking the walls of the bridge. The crew's knick knacks -carefully arranged about the bridge, souvenirs collected through years of peaceful, lazy hauling- were thrown from their shelves as the ship growled downward towards its target.

The Catalysts were almost certainly firing short range, high damage ammunition at the Tayra, whose shields were already a patchwork of fizzling, failing electromagnetic screens. In order to save her, Jalep had to get the pirate’s ships away from her, limit their damage. Whatever it took.

"Sir, we are going to ram right into that destroyer!" Inmaal gasped.

"That's the idea!" the Captain shouted, leaning over his console, glaring at the enemy ship. "Steady, hold your course Mr. Inmaal!"

The Wreathe barreled towards the Catalyst, past the Tayra and through the thick black fog of smoke bellowing from its torn hull. Racing like a meteor falling through atmosphere. Like a rocket.

And then, with a shrieking cacophony, the two ships collided. The Wreathe lurched sideways, jolting like a bucking bronco. Jalep went flying over his console. The pirate Catalyst was violently thrown off course, spinning like a wayward boomerang away from the Tayra, its magnetometric dish sheared off from the impact.

When he stopped tumbling, Jalep was covered in a blanket of flight manuals, navigation instruments, and coffee mugs. He staggered to his feet to assess the situation. He was relieved to see the shadow of the CONCORD Police Captain's ship sweep across the Wreathe’s bridge. "Finally." In a matter of seconds, the pirate ships were reduced to scrap and their capsules were warping off in an attempt to avoid further punishment.

"30 percent thrust starboard side. Stabilizers full. Align planet four, moon two,” he ordered in an authoritative monotone. Let's dock up and see what we've got. Hail the Tayra and the others and tell them to do the same." If there was any doubt of who was in command before, it had vanished in the smoke of the burning Tayra.

*****

Jalep and Captain Hakaari, the shaken skipper of the Tayra, entered the Molior Enterprises conference room along with the other Captains involved in the incident. They joined Zariah Reed and the rest of the Corporate Directors.

"First, I want to make sure everyone is alright. How is your crew, Hakaari?" Zariah asked with genuine concern.

"There's a lot of letters being written to mothers and girlfriends, sir. But on the whole, everyone is doing OK," Hakaari replied.

"Good. This nonsense is rather unsettling. Couple the attack with threats we've since received from that sociopath Ashanda Maluarant, and we've got a real mess on our hands."

"Threats, sir?" Jalep inquired.

After along exhale, Zariah pulled up a message on one of the screens above the conference room table. From it, he read:

Molior Enterprises Group. l hope you enjoyed that little preview from our public relations department. l want you to know that after today, you have earned the enviable title of ’Top Priority’ for our operations. Expect to be paid several courtesy calls from our public relations specialists.

The CEO removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "This is going to be a problem, frankly. Any ideas?" He queried, without looking up.

"Hunker down, stay docked. Wait them out," offered Collins.

"Typical miner mentality," scoffed Brynt Hartt, Financial Director. "Why don't you just flush our monthly profits down the tubes?"

"Oh and I suppose sacrificing haulers to pirates improves our numbers?" Collins snapped back.

"No pain, no gain. I don't make the rules," Brynt huffed.

"Those are people's lives you're talking about. Our people! You're as bad as the pirates!" Collins voice was straining.

"Gentlemen enough!" barked Zariah. The CEO pivoted towards the corporation's newest member. "Jalep, you handled yourself quite admirably out there — saved Hakaari’s ship, as I understand it. We owe you a debt of gratitude. You've dealt with these pirate types before, how do you suggest we handle the situation?"

Jalep paused. The CEO was right, he had dealt with pirates before. He knew to them it wasn't about the numbers, the profits. It was a game of cat and mouse. Hunter and prey. The cat wants to toy with its prey as much as it wants to kill it. The only way the mouse can win is to stay in its hole, Collins was right. The cat eventually gets bored and goes off in search of a new victim. But this solution leaves Jalep flying Wreathes from now until the next YC. Jalep knew how to recognize one thing exceptionally well: opportunity. And only a fool doesn't seize a good opportunity.

"Counterattack, sir"

The room fell silent. Collins leaned back into his chair, groaning.

"These pirate types," he borrowed the awkward phrase from the CEO for emphasis, "don't expect you to fight back. They're full of threats, but in reality they're weaker than the ones they're picking on. They rely on you not realizing it. Not calling their bluff. If you stand up and hit them right in the mouth, they'll run home to their mother and never bother you again."

Zariah narrowed his gaze and stuck one end of his glasses in his mouth, intrigued, "go on."

"My suggestion is we hit them where it hurts, embarrass them on their turf. Take out a few of their combat ships in their home system and they'll tuck tale and run."

"This is complete insanity," Collins interjected, unable to stand by idly anymore. "Us? Attack them? First of all, I'm not sure if you've noticed in your 12 whole hours in the corporation, Captain Malukker, but we're not exactly overflowing with combat talent. Secondly, Maluarant and her crew almost certainly live in Low Security Space. CONCORD barely saved our skin today — out there," his voice cracked as he motioned wildly towards some imaginary system, "they won't even show up to keep score! Not to mention we don't even own any combat ships."

"That's not... strictly true" Brynt interjected. "We do have a corporate hangar full of combat ships and modules from a failed investment years ago. I'd been considering liquidating the whole thing to fund a new Customs Office venture in Odotte."

Zariah exhaled, nibbling on his glasses. After a moment of quiet reflection, he looked up and addressed the group. "I have been in charge of this corporation for nearly six years. In that time, we have overcome all manner of challenges. Throughout all of it, we have persevered by following one guiding principle: never blink when the other guy is staring you in the eye. We didn't blink during the union strikes nor the ore shortages, nor did we blink when the price of drones spiked, or cut throat competition forced us to operate at negative margins. Not once. I do not intend to begin blinking now. This corporation sits on nearly four hundred billion in assets and we can surely spend some of it to rid ourselves of this nuisance, this pest."

The CEO looked over the group, whose expressions betrayed feelings ranging from inspiration to disbelief.

"Captain Malukker, it seems, will be our pesticide, having arrived just in time. Brynt, you will give him access to the hangar of combat supplies." He turned to Jalep and spoke as if no one else was in the room, "I want you to hit these bullies in the mouth, as you say. Get them off our backs so we can get back to work."

*****

"This is Captain Jalep Malukker of the Thrasher-class destroyer Ultionis, requesting clearance to jump,"

Jalep spoke with calm confidence into the communications transponder.

Over a crackle of static, the Stargate Commander came back, "Captain Malukker you are aware you are about to jump in to Low Security Space and that CONCORD does not provide protection therein, correct?"

"I am. Do I have my clearance?"

"Clearance granted, approach the gate and prepare for jump."

With a rush of stars streaking past and a bending of light, the fleet of six Thrashers Jalep was leading jumped into Seyllin. They sat there, cloaked, floating in silence for a moment before Jalep gave the next order. The crew's eyes darted around, checking overviews and sensors. No one said a word. The bridge of the Ultionis was suspended in silent tension, save for the steady pinging of its Ladar.

"Reapproach the gate."

The crew executed the orders without so much as a peep. Most of them had never flown on a ship fitted with weapons. Let alone a destroyer. Let alone in Lowsec.

"We’ll wait here until Maluarant and her crew jump through. When they do, follow my commands to the letter and we'll tear them apart. We have become the hunter, gentlemen."

Jalep’s poise did little to calm the nerves of the crew. The guts of these merchants, mechanics, and tradesmen were not cut out for this sort of work. Jalep knew it. As he looked around, he could see the terror pale in their faces. Hands were trembling, breathing unsteady. In the corner a young ensign, unable to stand the pressure any longer, emptied the contents of his stomach into a waste bin.

Jalep leaned over the communications transponder and spoke to the fleet, while looking in the eyes of his own crew on the bridge. "When I was a boy, my uncle grew peaches." He paused as confusion draped itself over the dread in the crew's faces. "I remember my cousins and me playing in his orchards. We'd run around those trees in the fading daylight, playing children's games and laughing for hours. The air was sweet with the smell of peaches and we'd frolic without a care in the world. Complete freedom. Whenever l am in a bad spot -and this is a bad spot we're in- l remember the sweet smell of those peaches and it brings me peace. That's how you get through times like these. Find your peach orchard and go there. Relax and smell those peach trees. Everything will be fine."

Jalep released the broadcast button and looked over his crew. For a brief moment, a faint hue of tranquility settled over the fleet. Then, the intelligence officer announced, "gate fire sir, sensors indicate Ashanda Maluarant has entered the solar system.

"Roger. Overheat Sensor Boosters. Activate Warp Disruptors. Artillery at the ready," Jalep ordered.

Three Catalysts decloaked a second later and began moving towards Jalep's fleet. "Primary the Catalyst of Ashanda Maluarant. Engage Warp Disruptor, fire all guns!”

In a single volley, the enemy Catalyst was at once turned into a blistering wreck. As the fleet's artillery swung around to its next target, the Catalysts began attacking the Libertas, the Thrasher off the port side of Jalep’s ship.

With a second furious volley, another Catalyst was removed from the field, just as the last pirate ship began to rip massive holes in the hull of the Libertas. Smoke was belching from the Thrasher's hull and its panicked captain screeched over the fleet transponder. "We're taking massive structure damage!"

Jalep could hear the terrified screams of the Libertas’ crew in the background amidst the sounds of roaring fires and bowing metal. His fleet could not focus its fire on the remaining enemy ship before it was able to consume the Libertas in a fiery explosion. Finally, the fleet's guns pounded the Catalyst, splitting its hull in half as it burst into a fireball.

Jalep knew words were best used sparingly after such a harrowing experience. "Let's go home," he ordered simply.

*****

As the crews of the Thrashers climbed down off of their battle-scarred vessels, the Molior Station crewmen stopped mid-work to stare at the warriors. It wasn't often that the employees of this peaceful industrial corporation laid eyes on combatants. The air was filled with a mix of awe and curiosity as the wrenches, welding torches, and hydraulic lifts quieted. Jalep lead his crew in silence off the hangar floor and to the Corporation's central conference room.

"Well done, men. Well done, Jalep." Zariah exclaimed.

"We lost the Libertas," Jalep mumbled, his shoulders slumping. "It was my fault, we didn't have enough firepower."

"Three destroyers for one seems like a good trade to me," figured Brynt.

"Agreed," Zariah joined in. "Shame about the crew of the Libertas, but top notch job all around. Well done. I trust we won't be hearing from Ms. Maluarant any time soon. Let that be a lesson to pirates everywhere: one should think twice before attacking a Molior vessel. You all have my deepest respect — it's no small task to go in to the belly of the beast the way you did. Hold your heads high. Now then, let's get back to doing what we do best."

As Jalep and the others turned to leave the room, Zariah piped up once more. "Oh, Jalep. One last question, if you'll indulge me. I was listening off and on to your communications during the battle, between staff meetings, of course. Did l hear you mention something about peaches?"

"Yes sir, just a little something to calm the men's nerves."

The CEO paused for a moment and looked over the Captain, "top rate leadership, Jalep. Top rate indeed. Thank goodness it's over."

*****

Jalep knew it wasn't over. Not close. He knew the minute Molior got back doing ‘what they do best,’ Maulerant would lash out with far greater force than previously. He knew there was no way the countless Molior haulers, miners, and freighters would be left alone. He was right. Not two days passed before a hauler full of ore was destroyed en route to Dodixie. A few days later, an entire mining fleet was turned to molten metal at the hands of Maulerant, Orca included. In the months that followed, this pattern continued, crippling Molior profits and morale equally, with devastating efficiency. The assault became so intense, Molior operations were at a standstill.

For some time it looked like Jalep might be able to drag the corporation out of the mess. He lead increasingly daring raids into Lowsec aimed at striking back at Maulerant. The Molior machine was pressed to feed the war effort. Cruisers, battlecruisers, and even battleships were produced from newly purchased blueprints, all in the name of liberating the corporation from tyranny. Jalep's fleets were successful, too. At least in achieving their tactical objective: destroying Maulerant’ s ships. They did little, however, to stave off her counterattacks. Littler still to help Molior’s bottom line. After each offensive, Jalep was met with praise and thanks from the Molior Directors. After each subsequent attack from Maulerant, calls for greater action and devotion of more corporation resources were made.

Jalep’s role in the corporation expanded greatly. He was fully in charge of the Corporation's Military hangar, which had swelled with combat ships, modules, ammunition, and blueprints. Many meetings were held to hash out options, but the outcome was always the same: Directors screaming at each other, the stress of the entire ordeal weighing on them like a stone. Finally, after one particularly bloody day where two freighters and several smaller haulers were lost, the Board of Directors reached its breaking point. Nothing they had tried was working. Desperation was setting in — they had to get Maulerant off their backs. Once again, they turned to their warrior leader, looking for a way out.

Jalep took a sip of tea and cleared his throat, "we must deny them any more bloodshed. The men have fought valiantly, but it's time to take a slightly different tact. We need to disrupt their ability to hurt us. If we take away the joy they get from the kill, they will quit."

Irritated and tired from too many sleepless nights, Brynt interrupted "Get to the point, Jalep."

"Electronic counter measures. We set up a bait ship, a freighter, something they can't resist. Then wait for them to strike, decloak Recon ships and jam out the attackers, leaving them to die to CONCORD. A few run-ins like that and they'll realize we've become a waste of their time." Jalep continued to outline the details of his plan on the telestrator for The Board, who looked on with a sliver of hope in their eyes. When he was finished, the exhausted Board turned to Zariah.

"Do it. Give Jalep whatever he needs" the CEO said flatly, standing up and walking out of the room, forlorn and out of ideas himself.

Jalep stood up and exited the room at once, a man driven to execute his mission. The rest of the Directors remained, squabbling.

"This is absurd," moaned Collins.

"Give it a rest, Collins," Brynt replied.

Jalep strode down the hallway toward the main corporate hangar.

"Bait ship? That's our plan now? Bait? " Collins griped.

Jalep entered the main corporate hangar for the first time, looking over the massive stockpile of ships, modules and blueprints.

"I mean really, what are we doing? What are we thinking here?" Collins asked the room.

Jalep approached the hangar crew chief and began giving detailed instructions.

"Has anyone stopped to think about this? About how this all started?"

The crew chief turned and began barking commands at his men, who set about loading up a nearby Fenrir.

"Seriously," pleaded Collins, "We're resting the entire fate of the Corporation on Jalep. What do we even know about Captain Malukker?"

Jalep boarded the Fenrir and began issuing undocking commands.

"This whole mess started right when he showed up."

Jalep commanded the massive freighter into warp.

"The attacks, the raids," he gasped "all those blueprints we purchased!" The Board began to pay closer attention to the ranting Mining Director. "None of this started happening until we hired him."

The Fenrir exited warp at the Caldari Navy Assembly Plant in Metserel. Jalep made his way off the ship and to an office above a small hangar on the lower level.

"The main hangar is filled with tens of billions in assets and we just gave him unrestricted access!" Collins wailed.

*****

Inside the office, a voice from the galley called "Your Nhuai tea is ready, ma’am."

"Thank you, Benson." Ashanda Maulerant replied, as Jalep entered the spartan office. A warm smile filling her her face, Ashanda turned to Jalep and asked, "everything go well?"

"Perfect," he replied, smirking as he picked a peach from a potted tree in the corner. He walked up to the window and gazed out upon the activities outside the station.