Story

Backstory:
The year is 3041. The human race has colonized the stars: hundreds of planets now bear human colonists. The creation of "Jump Connectors", or as many call them, "Burrowers", tiny ships which create worm holes through space, has allowed transportation across vast distances to be completed within seconds. These ships, truly, are what hold the Interplanetary Alliance together, not the magnificent dreadnoughts purchased from Bluesteel Arms. But galactic unrest is growing; a small faction that is steadily growing, the Union of Independent Colonies, calls for an end to "Terran Oppression"; they are supported by the Trade Cartel, a massive corporation that threatens to monopolize trade. And rumors abound that conspiracies at the core of these vast organizations will bring an end to the relative peace that has endured for hundreds of years. Some even say that, in the farthest reaches of space, another sentient race exists - a race that may not take kindly to the power of humans.


	Captain Ethan Sorn, Trade Cartel officer, stood at the bridge of the Interceptor; a small, custom build craft designed for speed, mobility, and protection. His orders seemed clear; he was to deliver his passenger to Terra. But there were far too many unknowns: who was the passenger? Why was he ordered to "expect trouble"? He didn't like the mission, but that wasn't his call. He'd served under the Cartel too long to lose his reputation now.
	He still didn't like it. At a whim, he decided to check on his crew.
	"Status report!" He called out in his crisp, commanding voice. The officers of the bridge responded in kind, reporting nothing unusual. He allowed himself a moment of relaxation; look like they'd make it to Terra without problems after all.
	"Sir, I'm picking up an unregistered craft within 500 clicks; it's closing fast!" His Ship Location And Analysis officer called out. "Initial analysis deems it as powerful as a light frigate! " This was worrying. His ship was not designed to take on any warship, no matter how light.
	"Get us out of here!" He called out. The view on the frontal view port changed as his navigation officer began to swing the ship around. With no burrower in sight, there only chance was to hope they could outrun the enemy. With the order made, he walked over to the SLAA station. He could seen a screen displaying his ship and the unknown; it was clear they could not beat the opponent.
	"Communications officer! Signal the ship. Put them through to me." He said, making his decision. They would see what their opponents wanted. He strode back to the center of the bridge as a screen suddenly showed the image of his adversary.

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	Vincent Rashi was thoroughly displeased. He checked his chrono again; his companion was now ten minutes late. Admiral Rashi, supreme commander of the Alliance navy, should not have to wait for anyone, he reasoned. The food, though, was exquisite. He appreciated the choice of venue: a five-star restaurant called the Silver Fork which he often frequented himself.
	He considered leaving then and there, but the message his anonymous friend had sent him was intriguing, offering a "business proposition." Rashi, if he was honest with himself, was bored. He hadn't seen combat in over ten years, since his promotion to commander. He could use a taste of excitement.
	Suddenly, the doors to the private room he was situated in hissed open. There stood a man he knew well: Chief Executive Karmel was head of Bluesteel, the arms dealer. Rashi stood up and shook hands with the man, then sat back down again.
	"Please don't tell me you've released a new ship design. I'm off duty at the moment. You could have contacted me through the-" Karmel cut him off mid-sentence.
	"That," said Karmel, "is not why I am here. I have an altogether sort of proposition for you. Our third guest will be arriving soon; he can explain everything to you. Ah, there he is now." The doors opened yet again, and another familiar figure walked in: Trade Supervisor Lenar.
	"Let's not bother with the greetings. We all know each other well. Before I begin, I should like to mention that our final associate is currently in one of my ships en route here; he is not, ah, as welcome as the rest of us."
	"What is going on?" Rashi was not a friend of Lenar; though there was no open conflict, it was clear that Alliance and Cartel were no longer partners.
	"We are here, my friend, " Lenar said with a pleasant smile, "to discuss high treason."