"I hope all has been going well with the Conduit Project, General Dorrel," commented the President of the Government of PSI.

General Dorrel, head of the Research and Development department at PSI, was behind his desk and looked up from his data pad at the man sitting across from him. President Gorran looked every bit of his forty-two years, with short black hair just starting to gray at the temples. He was not an exceptionally tall man but just about average height. However, it was his eyes that always held an individual's attention. One eye had a pupil of midnight black; the other was a milky white. These eyes earned him the informal nickname of Snake Eyes.

"The project should be completed in a matter of months sir," Dorrel replied, "Right now we are 46% finished with the construction."

President Gorran swiveled in his chair to look at the general. Dorrel was fifty-six years old, a giant of a man and overweight. The hair that still remained on his head was white and his beard was gray. Not an outstanding man to look at, but behind his physical plainness lived a genius at all sciences.

"Then I suppose you should hurry the project along a bit General, for the Emperor wants the project completed in a minimum of 5 months. No more than that."

"Yes President Gorran. I will have extra men transferred to Sol, with your permission. Then we can finally achieve what we have dreamed of for so long, power infinite."

The sun is rising, the air is sweet, and I am getting richer by the day. Life can't get better than this, thought thirty-two year old Captain Dacota of the trading ship Seabird's Flight.

"Get those boxes unloaded Perri, I am going to go see if there is any cargo that needs hauled."

"Right-o Boss."

Yes, life is very very good for me.

He strolled down the main Seaport Street of Smuggler's Haven, informally known as Turtle Town. The nickname came because the trading port was located on Turtle Island; informally known as Gold Rock.

Let's see, who should I trade with this time? Urla usually has some good jobs, though I'm not quite that bored yet. Then again, so does Ben Areon. I have such hard choices. First I have to tell Lyta that I have her cargo and it's being unloaded. Dacota turned onto another avenue and walked into Lyta Cabarel's Cargo Shop and Bar.

The Cargo shop had been around for approximately ten years. Located on the East Side of Turtle Town, it was right off the docks so that merchants and traders could have easy access to it. Many of the most famous merchants loved to hang out there before a Mr. Rafal Cabarel took it over. Since then, the establishment had gotten a reputation for never giving full pay to the sailor, bad prices when they did pay, and just an overall disrespectful attitude. Yet even though the owner was terrible, the Cargo Shop had nearly everything a merchant or smuggler could want in the way of jobs or supplies. There was always a list of jobs that needed to be filled hanging up and the people to contact to get them. Fishing poles, harpoons, nets, and of course cargo books, lined the walls and shelves.

Lyta looked up as Dacota walked into the store. Dacota was taller then the average Mystican. Very weathered and rough looking, Dacota always wore some cutoff seamen's pants, an open leather vest, which revealed his tanned and well-built chest and stomach. His only visible weapon was his usual Chakram hanging from its place on his belt. His hair was long, tied back in a ponytail bleached blond from exposure to the sun, and his eyes was a cornflower blue that seemed to see right through you.

"What can I do for you today Dacota?"

Dacota looked at her and smiled. He had known Lyta since she was just a little girl hanging around on the docks, always watching for him to come in. But somewhere in those years the little girl had grown up.

Lyta was about eighteen years old and also a little taller then the average Mystican woman. Her hair was a shadowy black and shimmered in the light. Never very fancy about it, she always kept it in a loose bun. Lyta also had three piercings per ear and a tattoo of a rose on her shoulder. She was very thin and bore the occasional bruise on her face, a clear indication of abuse and small meals.

As far back as she could remember, her parents had been dead and she had lived with her uncle, who treated her more as a slave then as his niece.

"I just stopped by to say hello and to tell you that your uncle's cargo is being unloaded now," Dacota said with a smile still on his face, "So when can I expect payment for it, Lyta?"

"I don't know Cota, but as soon as my uncle gets here I'll tell him that you're expecting pay."

Dacota sighed, "Alright, just come to me with the money when you have it. You know where my ship is." And with that Dacota walked out the door waving at her as he left.

Lyta watched him go and it wasn't five minutes later that her uncle, Rafal Cabarel, walked in. "Uncle, Captain Dacota just came in and said that he's unloading the cargo and wants to be paid."

"That freakin' fish man," Rafal spat, "always wantin' pay before he delivers. And with PSI tightenin' its grip on the tradin' taxes, I need to save all the money I can. Run down to his ship and give him half o' his pay, ya worm." As he threw her the money, her uncle gave her a good kick out the door to get her started.

Lyta toppled out of the shop with a dull thud. She calmly got up and dusted herself off. Turning toward the shop, she offered a few choice words concerning her uncle, his shop, and her family in particular, then started off to catch up with Dacota.

As Dacota casually strolled down Seaport Avenue, he noticed a group of teenagers starting to follow him. He started to turn into a shop but noticed something wrong about them. They had tattoos on their arms of a skull with a rose in its mouth and knew then that the gang would fight him anywhere he went. He looked around and realized he had gotten into the bad section of Smuggler's Haven.

Dacota quickly turned down an alley and stopped in his tracks. It was a dead end. He whirled, trying to escape, but the gang had already caught up with him.

There were twelve gangsters. They all looked as though they and showers were not close friends, and all had weapons.

"Hand over the dough and no one will get hurt, punk." The one that spoke seemed to be their leader.

"I don't have any money on me but if you'd like to hazard a try I will oblige."

"Aw crimey, he's gonna fight us," one jeered.

"Just beat the crap out of him, boys," the leader yelled.

Dacota quickly pulled his Chakram out of his belt and flicked the spikes out of it. He got a good hold on it before the gang finished its charge at him. He flipped over the first teen and sliced the back of his neck open.

The second kid that attacked him had a club with nails sticking out of it and Dacota just sliced the club in half and stabbed the boy.

Then there were too many people on him and he couldn't do anything else besides scream a war cry and attack.

All of a sudden, another voice joined his and a short, wiry young man joined the battle. He had to be wielding the biggest sword Dacota had ever seen.

A searing pain ripped through Dacota's side. He looked down and a knife was protruding out of it. He pulled it out and stabbed the man whom it belonged to. By then, most of the gang had either run off, or were dead or dying.

Dacota finally had a chance to look up at his savior. The young man had short, spiky brown hair, and eyes like twin sapphires. He looked to be about twenty-two years. "Thanks a lot, friend," Dacota gasped out.

"My name is Jakar Nerak," the stranger told him, "I was just passing through when I saw you in trouble and figured it couldn't hurt to help," Jakar helped lift Dacota up from his kneeling position. "Let's get you back to your ship."

Perri, the first mate on Dacota's ship, had told her that Dacota had been gone for about 2 hours now and even the crew was getting worried. While Dacota was gone however, Perri had been able to purchase new cargo with Lyta's help to sell at Darsiva.

Even as Lyta silently pondered, she looked up and saw Dacota, who was being helped along by a stranger. More upsetting to Lyta was the fact that Dacota was bleeding from a deep wound in his side.

She rushed up to him and grabbed him in a big hug. Dacota weakly returned it.

"Dacota, are you okay? What happened?" Lyta asked in a rush.

"I'm fine thanks to my new friend here. Lyta Cabarel, meet Jakar Nerak."

He nodded at her and she at him.

"Now, could you help me to my ship?" It wasn't long before Dacota was in his cabin, resting with a stitched up side.

While the ship's doctor was working on Dacota, Jakar related the day's events to Lyta. Then, after the doctor had completed the minor surgery, Lyta and Jakar went in to see Dacota for a bit. "This is all the money that Uncle Rafal gave me to pay you, Dacota."

Dacota looked inside and cursed. "I should have known better then to trust him," he sighed, "But I was expecting it. Still, it's going to be hard to make ends meet for a while." He then turned to Jakar, "And you, my friend, what can I do to repay my debt to you?"

"Only this. Take me with you to your next stop, wherever that might be."

"Done," answered Dacota.

"Dacota please let me go with you! If I stay here my uncle will continue to beat me and starve me! I would rather starve with you than with Rafal! Please let me come!" Lyta begged him.

Dacota looked into her eyes and saw the truth in her words. In that moment he knew what he had to do. "All right little moonlight. You can come with me."

Lyta stepped up to the bed and wrapped her arms around him, "Oh, thank you Dacota! You're the best!" And with the three new friends on board, Seabird's Flight sailed off into the evening waves.