<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;">The 1st Job</span></span></div><br/><br/>Cultural tradition was a rare thing these days. With so many people living off world, cultures have mixed, and in some sense have disappeared, along with it their food. As Callum watched the crew devouring the tortilla chips and salsa being shared by his Mexican crew member, he was glad to see some culture on this ship. He thought of his own background. He was a mix of everything earth wise, yet he was raised on Mars. His father’s side had some outer-world mixed in, yet Callum couldn’t shake the fact that he was born on Earth. He was a stew of cultures and background, and he never really knew where he fit in. If anything, he always felt at peace in space. This was his home.<br/><br/>Callum took some chips and salsa, and it was very spicy, like the Neptunian dishes he grew to love. Around them was the beauty of the stars, and the port they were still attached to, with Ceres just below. Callum stood up and immediately caught all their attention, obviously eager to get started.<br/><br/>“Our first job is a transport job,” he explained with, what he hoped, was a voice of authority. “As you know I’m trying to skirt on the proper side of the law, do things properly, be legitimate-like. Problem is most of my contacts aren’t exactly, ‘legitimate.’ This one is as legitimate as I can find. We’ll be transporting a painting.”<br/><br/>He looked at his crew, obviously losing them. “An expensive painting. You know Rembrandt, Picasso, one of them Asia-European fellows with white hair. Doesn’t matter. It was something forgotten after the system war. The transporting will be easy- it’s the procurement of this particular item that makes this worth the money. We won’t be stealing it… at least not officially. We’ll just be claiming it.”<br/><br/>Callum threw a small metal ball onto the desk, and it seemed to snap into the middle as if held by magnets. A holograph of mars, colored with red, some specs of green vegetation, and blue water, expanded into the middle of the table. “You see the painting is said to be holed up in an old military bunker somewhere in the middle of nowhere, in the Aeria region on Mars.” The Aeria region on the hologram lit up with a marker. It was all red, with no vegetation or water. “The problem is the Aeria region is currently claimed by a gang known as the Marauders of Murder. Not the most original name in my opinion, quite tacky, and even a bit-“<br/><br/>“Get to the point,” Feronia interrupted.<br/><br/>“-but obviously from their name- not a friendly bunch. Now it ain’t stealing, mainly because they don’t even know it’s there. Doesn’t mean they won’t claim it if they find it, of course. Which means we gotta be real quiet like for the procurement of this valuable. We’re getting 400,000 credits for this deal, and an extra 120,000 if the painting doesn’t get a scratch. Most of that will be going to Feronia for repairs, but if we don’t get a scratch on the painting, we’ll each be getting 35,000 credits each. It’s a good job.”<br/><br/>He sat down, propping his feet up. “Now it’s a big enough place, so we can hopefully find this thing and just go home without coming face to face with these Marauders of Murder. Though the bunker has to be found, first. We have coordinates, but my buyer ain’t sure on the specifics of it. So we’ll need to be hot, armed to the teeth. Got that covered Al?”<br/><br/>Callum then looked at his new pilot, a tough looking man with lots of cybernetics. He felt it was almost a shame to use the man just for piloting. “As much as I want you on the ground with us Joseph, we may need a tricky pick-up, and Feronia’s not exactly known for her finesse.”<br/><br/>“I did just fine on the Rethal job,” she boasted.<br/><br/>“You almost killed me just trying to dock,” he rebutted. “I was almost made into an astro-pancake!”<br/><br/>“Well you’re here and you’re just fine.”<br/><br/>“Whatever you say.” He then looked at his new mechanic. “Ettin, I’ll need you on the ground to use the surveyor. Hopefully you can locate this underground bunker. Plus any extra hands will be useful - And finally Logan,” he looked at the strange doctor, still unsure about the man. “Bring a med kit and stay out of the way. I hope you know how to shoot. If not, hopefully Al can give you a crash course.”<br/><br/>He took a chip, dipped it in salsa and shoved it in his mouth. With a full mouth he said, “let’s get prepped and head out.”