<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #4040FF">Alice Green<br/><br/>'The Huntress'</span></span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">Sirius-238. Another day, another planet, another job. That was it. For Alice, it didn't matter if it was a lovely planet, or a dirty and dusty one. The latter was actually more common in her line of business, and that didn't bother Alice in the least. It was just doing her job, just a fat paycheck, and she could go home once it was done. Home was a bit of an up-in-the-air concept, but it worked. Alice considered the place she lived in as pretty much that - a living space and not much more. She still tried to keep it nice, though, and that cost money, which had to be earned by keeping her job at the military and taking those missions not many seemed to want or have the ability to perform.<br/><br/>Alice's information on her target had been as detailed as her employers could provide. 'The Viking' was a pretty well known name in his field, and he had to go down. Her instructions were clear - she had to bring him alive to be arrested. As far as Alice was concerned, dead or alive were just concepts. She did what her immediate superior told her to. If she had a say, dead was always easier. Dead people don't try to run, after all. But her superior had been adamant about wanting 'The Viking' alive, and it wasn't Alice's place to argue.<br/><br/>Sometimes Alice wondered - silently - about the exact motives of her superiors. Peter Halvardson, also known as 'The Viking', probably held a wealth of information. Maybe that was what her superiors wanted. Alice had never met Halvardson in person, but she knew that his name was branded in a myriad of illegal business operations, all developed and run professionally and flawlessly. Credit was given where credit was due, and Halvardson deserved it. The man was good. But she had to be better, if she was to catch him.<br/><br/>Alice Green was ten years younger than Halvardson, and looked her age. Dark hair, always well kept, dark brown eyes, and, when she wanted, a nice girl look. Under that look was a cold operator, all-business in manner, but not everyone had to know this. Some men, even in the military, liked the illusion. They liked thinking every girl was nice and sweet. Alice didn't mind giving them that illusion to get the jobs she wanted. After she got them, it was business as usual. For this job, Alice didn't have to do anything different. They had picked her for her skills, and deep down inside, Alice felt a little bit proud of herself.<br/><br/>After being chosen, Alice had taken care of making her way into the planet. The only way she could go there was as a miner, so a miner she should be for the time being. The clothing was not hard to get. There wasn't much Alice could do to change her physique, but she hoped to blend in with the other women enough to not cause any suspicion. Her hair was probably the messiest she had ever worn it, and her clothing was unkempt. It felt bad to be so messy, but it didn't matter. A job was a job, and there was one to be done.<br/><br/>So, as the shuttle prepared for the landing in that God-forsaken planet, Alice tried to bond with the other women, at least enough to pick up on the way they spoke and to be able to mix in their midst as they got off. Everything depended on this. And she could not fail.</div>