Vegas was not exactly named after the city that had once existed on Earth, nor did it orbit Vega the star, rather it was named as such because of its geographical features. The surface was mostly covered in rocky terrains with variations of bare mountains, jagged cliff formations, deep crevasses, and desert plateaus while bodies of water accounted for only eight percent of the planet's entire surface area, and even then it was too saturated with minerals to be immediately of any use. Civilization's saving grace for any hopes of prospering was a network of natural subterranean waterways nestled underneath the bottoms of deep canyons that spread like veins across the land with the fertile soil down in the valleys nurturing the green paths of the planet's lifeblood. Where these underground rivers occasionally intersected in mass were verdant valleys resting atop underground lakes, oases on a mostly barren planet. Therefore, on the day when man first set foot on the planet it was decided that the planet would be named “Meadows” in whatever language happened to be drawn out of a hat.
When the human woke three days later on the FTL craft docking in Vegas’ orbital station, he was lying insensate in his cryogenic capsule when he was jolted awake rather unpleasantly by the machines stimulating his cells back into action and then jabbed by a tongue depressor a few times, held by the hybrid physician who wanted to make sure he was “well thawed out”. It was only after he clambered out of the freezer feeling as limp as a microwaved breakfast burrito that he could finally stare out of a shielded window to appreciate the sunbathed Vegas day from orbit while hacking up huge globs of mucus buildup from his unused throat. Glorious space travel.
There was certainly a lot of commotion in the terminal, a hustle and bustle that was more common in intraplanetary travel hubs. Humans and hybrids began to populate the halls with their activity, most going through the same ordeal as he, while others were in better shape if they had traveled first class, something equivalent to a three night stay at a luxury hotel if the rooms had gorgeous views of the hyperspace column walls and the guests were barred from leaving the building. The human now realized, as he hacked another yellow wad from his windpipe into his paper cup, that kicking back for three days would have been a grander experience. However, he was no stranger to being the frozen cargo and the three day skip in time was nothing like the first time he woke up on a different world. Back then, the fact had really thrown his head into the ground.
It was only after a particularly large chunk of phlegm dislodged itself and joined the accumulated mass that the human cared to take notice of a voice calling a name. He’d been aloofly ignoring it as he was caught up expressing a sentiment of wonder towards his home world, but it was essentially right in his ear. The person obviously knew who he was looking for.
“Are you Hazard?”
The human set his cup on the ground and slowly turned to intercept another man who was walking down the hall holding a sign up to his chest that read HAZARD. The other was dressed casually for the most part, but he had a flight helmet on with the visor retracted. The human said nothing as his gaze shifted from the sign to the other's face before his gaze changed to a questioning scowl.
"Haze Hazard, right?" the pilot said, very surprised by the other's appearance. "That one guy that was part of the team in the crisis fifty years ago."
The human sighed, turned his head away and nodded, the scowl replaced by a apathetic expression. On Animalus, Haze Hazard, as he had been named, had taken the opportunity to remain discreet with his identity. Lately, however, with the rising publicity over the anniversary for what had happened five decades ago, drama would sometimes ensue if anyone actually recognized him. The looks he had gotten when he presented his ID at the Animalus ports was enough to tell that emotions were still high. It was to be expected that he would get a lot more attention from the public on Vegas.
"Oh! Okay, that's great!" the pilot smiled, sounding relieved. "Y'know, uh, heh, all they gave me to go by was your name and old photo. Didn't expect that you’d look...y'know? Because...well, I thought you'd be..." he was obviously trying not to step on any toes. "Well, anyway, I'm here to fly you down to New Powys immediately, by the, *ahem*, "orders" of Sergeant Santelli. He told me that you were once under his command.”
Hazard nodded absently. He hadn’t even set foot on the planet and he was already getting snared into arrangements.
The pilot continued when Hazard did not reply. “So, is this it,” he motioned to the other, “or do you have any luggage I can help you with?”
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New Powys, Vegas. The planet’s capital. Like many cities it was built around one of the meadows, only it literally went around a grassy field sixty-five kilometer in diameter while the city itself added three more kilometers to what was sometimes referred to as the Capital Crater. It did resemble one from high altitudes, which Hazard could observe during his descent in the exospheric shuttle which he had all to himself, courtesy of the military through a favor called in by Santelli.
The shuttle wasn’t too big though, maximum occupancy of twelve people in the passenger area, which made it possible for air controllers to actually let the pilot fly the ship low enough to clip the tops of skyscrapers, but he had proven to be skilled as a pilot, contrary to what Hazard's first impression would have led him to believe. The pilot was setting it down right next to some reception hall that did not have a landing pad on the roof, but the front lot was made for the arrival of vertol ships. The craft smoothly rocked to a halt in midair before continuing to descend between the buildings. Hazard could see the building that was his destination as well as a small gathering outside the entrance. The ship was touching down when Hazard noticed that the ship’s arrival managed to gain some of the group’s attention. He could then see that they were mostly hybrids.
“Wow, look at that turnout,” the pilot quipped over the comm. “Never see this many humanimals in one place on Vegas.”
That was true. Vegas was a relatively young settlement, but most importantly a human settlement and resolutely identified itself as such. Discrimination against hybrids was not uncommon, as was demonstrated by the pilot’s slur. He would not be surprised if this was just another protest against the repression of practices that were legal on other planets. Hazard slid the door open and prepared to exit.
“Uh, hey, I can leave the ship here if you want me to go in with you, y’know, in case the crowd decides to give you a hard time.”
Hazard didn’t answer, leaving the decision up to the guy himself. He was contemplating how to handle getting through to the front door. indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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