"A Contract"

The vastness of space never bothered Evane. He had seen some grown men break down and sob like little children when shown the true Infinity. Their minds had simply melted as they began to comprehend the incredible emptiness and vast fullness of the multiverse. It was a ritualistic test, of sorts, for those in the Earth Federation. The commanders had to know if a person would break under intense mental strain. Most with families couldn't comprehend the thought of leaving on a mission, jumping for tens of years, and coming back to seeing your children dead and your great-grandchildren growing old. But in the Infinite, the lives of humans were the tiniest grains of sand in the borderless ocean of time. And Evane reveled in it. His eyes closed as he wandered the void that was Time, and the smallest hints of a smile creased his lips. This was the one place he truly felt alive, truly felt connected. Any of those stars could give birth to something as close to human as he was, given enough time. And time was the one weapon the universe certainly had on its side.

"Get in here." A voice shot him away from the Infinite and forced open his eyes. Tel, his one friend and co-captain, was grounded in the here and now. Reality was what he could touch with his hands and see with his eyes. He had no time to comprehend stars billions of light years away. Evane could appreciate that stability; it had saved his life more than once.

A few moments later, Evane was inside of the Renaissance, waiting for the pressure to come back in the equilibration room. Gravity returned slowly, allowing him to touch the floor panels. He took one last look at the universe before the hatch closed, and took his helmet off when the signal gave the all clear. He bent down to pick up his pack of cigarettes and spoke.

"What's the matter Tel." Evane walked from the chamber and instinctively reached for his two weapons. A modified pistol based on an old Desert Eagle design, and a sword from a much older time period. It was a model with origins of a gendaito, a katana from the post-modern era of sword-making. In the age of WMDs on a planetary scale, laser targeting and nanobullets, Evane's weaponry would have prompted stone age comparisons. But he had an advantage.

The Bogu on his arm itched, it's biological form manifesting itself as a slimy looking green skin on his arm, extending from his fingers to nearly the elbow. Touching it gave no effect of slime, it was dry almost to a fault. Nanotechnology had given him this weapon. The Bogu consumed rare elements to produce powerful effects that could be channeled through metallic objects. Interstellar travel had suddenly become possible overnight. It also provided him with a living.

"A contract from Technation," Tel said grimly turning to face his friend. Tel was gruff, as Evane called him. A perfectly trimmed beard with no points across his round face and a shock of unkempt hair down to his shoulder blades, he was the classic ship techie. He loved the Renaissance like a mother would a child. Evane grunted, but his disdain was quickly replaced by surprise. "10,000C an ounce for something they call OoSl."

"That's quite a lot," Evane pulled out a Rothman cigarette from the pack and began to light it. Tel had a strange smile on his face. He hated that smile. "What is it now?"

"We're going Metalicite hunting." Tel laughed. Evane breathed deeply and blew out the smoke, watching it drift across the room.

"Mince alors." Evan swore under his breath.