<They are never going to do it.>

<But the fact that it's even a suggestion, being debated before the Senate.>

<Our mission is too valuable, Adam.>

The black of space surrounded him, pinpricked by millions of stars in an ever-widening expanse. He was home here. Some people looked out at that void and felt the endless expanse surrounding them, the nothingness that existed in that stretch of space, and went mad. There were people who were afraid of so much openness. It was an extreme form of astrophobia.  

Adam loved it. It was a far cry from the stuffy politics of home life. On the surface of his homeworld Neo-Tokyo, every move was scrutinized, every word you uttered had better be heavily thought out because the repercussions could cost your family their seat in the Senate or worse. You could be replaced as head of your family by some greedy upstart coming up behind you.

He had to deal with none of that. He was a reject, born slightly disabled, but still Neo-Tokyan, still worthier than the denizens of their empire. He'd never actually met anyone from off-world, not even in Outlands station where non-Neo-Tokyans were allowed to do business. But he knew, as all Neo-Tokyans did, that they were born less. It was a fact of life, he did not question it. 

He focused inward, the ship he was piloting, while he had other passengers, the only one he cared about was his co-pilot, a fiery brunette, named Meg. She lounged in the pilot's chair, black boots on the desk, hands behind her head, and the black tight pants, and shirt of her uniform that made his mouth water. It was a mockery of a name, she didn't actually pilot this vessel, he did. He was a gen. 1 Vesper pilot, retired flying this luxury Vesper ship with Neo-Tokyan Dignitary Sergio Diminez Al-Ha'Paulsson and Co. His was augmented to connect with the vessel, to move on a dime, shifting when he did. 

He shifted his awareness to his human body, feeling regret as he did so. He was so small... and so grounded and The Adam was the epitome of perfect flying. They were on schedule, and as much as he wanted to wait and continue flying, he wanted to converse with Meg in person.

The cables he had inserted into his back, popped out with a hiss. He felt his world dim as his body took over, powering the augments inside. If he took too much time away from the connection he would waste away until he died, a regular human body could not charge everything they'd placed inside. It was a symbiotic relationship, the price he paid for his freedom from Neo-Tokyo. 

With a sigh, he walked forward sliding the door open and climbing down the small ladder to the pilot's chamber where Meg swiveled around to meet him, a smile on her face. 

He pulled her up out of the chair to him, other things on his mind that they could be doing on their 'free' time when a message came in. He stiffened in place, Meg pulled against his chest.

The message came through a military channel and was directed at the two of them. Poor Sergio was just going to have to come along for the ride. 

Adam was retired and should have been deactivated.  He had nothing to do with the military. Not anymore. 

"What is it?" Meg whispered sensing something was wrong before he could say anything. 

"We're being ordered to Helion 7."

"What? Why?" Meg stepped back and moved to the table, a quick series of strokes pulling up the news. She gasped. "The vote went through."

"I guess we aren't all that valuable." Adam pointed to the right with his hand and the ship shifted course on a hard burn to Helion 7.