Porlogue: Ok, 3, 2, 1, let's jam! After a most successful endeavor on Planet Mars, the women of Sand Cats Tactical Security LLC were enjoying a well-earned R&R at Mystic Spring Spa, a luxurious turkish bath and spa located in Circular 2. Sireen Barakat, Commander of the Sand Cats, seized the opportunity the minute she planned their trip back to Bourak; and at the moment, sharing a relaxing massage with the Odalisque Apple Pie, she was feeling quite pleased with her decision. “I think we should do this more often.” she said drooling, as the masseur eased the knots on her aching shoulders. Apple Pie barely acknowledged with a moan and a thumbs up, while her own masseur applied pressure on her lower back. Suddenly, a Geist materialized next to her, making her growl in exasperation. And while no one else could see it, Apple Pie was savvy enough to know what that growl meant. “I’ll go with you,” she said getting up and going straight to the dressing room. Sireen sighed. Apple Pie had been captured and torture by three deranged Reverend Custodiers working for Sireen’s father; and after that ordeal, she hadn’t been comfortable in pools, tubs or similar bodies of water. She got dressed as fast as she could and started walking to the exit, where a tall, bald and muscular black man was waiting for her at the door of a hovercraft. “Sorry to cut your fun short, Ma’am,” said Tyrone accelerating the hovercraft. “Don’t sweat it,” replied Sireen in resignation. “The only way you’d send your Geist is if was something important.” ----------------------- Sand Cats Tactical Security LLC was, for all intents and purposes, an all-female force; however, four men were part of the crew: Alguacil Tyrone, the pilot of the 'Desert Duchess'; Rattlesnake, a Janissary who helped bring down Sireen’s father and now serves as her First Mate; Purple Tanager, a Hafza they had picked up on Human Edge and who had joined the Wrecking Belles for their latest adventures; and Ouroboros the Yuan-Yuan, whose file name was mistaken as female by Apple Pie when recruiting, and who had proven to be a valuable yet barely tolerable asset. The four men were democratically voted to stay guarding the ship by a landslide, much to Ouroboro’s chagrin. Ouroboros was waiting at the entrance of the ship with a wide grin and escorting a rather dazzling redhead. “What is she doing here?!” said Sireen at the sight of Raita Salik, War Correspondent of Nebula News Network, and cause of half the troubles the Sand Cats have faced. “I’m not here by choice, Tariqa of Flamia,” replied Raita tossing a document at Sireen. “The Hachib has recommended that all Haqqislam Military Operations cooperate with O12’s Peacekeeping policy and tightly monitor the use of weaponry banned by the Concilium Convention.” she said commanding her aerocam to rest on top of her luggage. “So, the Haqqislam Government has decided to attach Warcors to their high-profile Task Forces." “But I don’t get it, I’m not a Haqqislam Military Task Force, I’m a private contractor, with a Letter of Marque form the Funduq Sultanate to be part of the Qapu Khalqi Navy.” “Flamia Island. Do you deny your involvement, Tariqa of Flamia?” “No, but-“ “Wotan Gate Blockade, were you not part of Haqqislam High Command there and then?” “Yeah, but-“ “And didn’t you leave me behind to freeze my ass in Novvy Cimeria? Or was that your long-lost twin sister?” Sireen Barakat pinched the bridge of her aquiline nose. “Why you?” “Because I have connections and have worked with you before.” replied Raita with a wicked smile. “Besides, it’s not like you have a good standing with the Warcor community, with your reputation of being trigger happy.” “That just happened once! ONCE!” countered Sireen flustered. “Whatever.” said Raita shrugging. “I’ve been assigned to you, which means you’re going to be called into action again.” “Ma’am, incoming call from the Sultanate” came the voice of Purple Tanager on Sireen’s comlog. “Son of a camel.”
