And there I was, thinking that you must've gone and died out there. I would have loved nothing more than to drop in - I hear the Omicrons are almost peaceful these days, for a lawless pit of a warzone, - but your operative didn't seem the social type. I imagine growing up on a strict diet of conspiracy theorist nonsense'll do that to a person. I'm sure you understand.

Still, you're correct. Your agent didn't give me any information worth the trip, and I ain't entirely sure that my side's showing the full playing field either. I expect it from your team, and special operations has never been what you'd call open, but hauling me out to the omicrons to be obscure is something new.

Now, don't go getting me wrong. We are on opposing sides. You can talk about the common good until you're blue in the face, but if we were on anything like the same team, I doubt I would've had an order agent in Ontario a couple of weeks back threatening to fill me full of holes for doing my job. For an organisation claimin' to save folk, there's an awful lot of aggression coming out of the Omicrons. That said, for a terrorist, you've dealt straight with me so far; and the word around the water cooler's that you haven't been too active on the front-lines yourself. Heaven knows I could use a little less covert-operations bullshit getting in the way of my job.

I'll hear you out. Svens, twenty two hundred hours on the sixteenth. I'll buy my own dinner, though.

Sweetie.