A/N: Migrating a few things over from the old Yahoo boards before they (the boards) die a horrible death. If you're following my Mass Effect stories, please note: This is not ME, its related to an old P&P RPG called Living Steel. If you don't know Living Steel/Rhand: 2349, this one-shot will probably not be very illuminating. Its like an inside joke, in a cabal, with dark hoods and strange goats in latex, at midnight. Okay, maybe not the goats, but there's definitely latex involved, and floaty pyramid eye things. As such, this may not be your cup o' tea. (More like Colt .44 in the big can...do they still make that swill?)

Below is what started as a background story for an Imperial character, who was later extracted via Dragon Star Raid, eventually becoming a Sworder (and eventual Ringer). I've always felt that being a 'hero' did not necessarily mean you were also a paragon of virtue. Davis Drake certainly is not. By a long shot...

The 'Other Half' refers to Imperium soldiers who later defected to the 7SW.

Disclaimers: I make no claims to being a writer (aspiring or otherwise). I am just the 'Fan' in FanFiction. I have no ownership rights to LEG, Living Steel, Phoenix Command. Though, since they are now out of business, can I say that I 'own' my source books at least? :D

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The 'Other' Half

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Silverston stepped off the Starguild transport Rhyo and into the Uraishima starport proper. The large man made his way though the press of other travelers to a transport tube, datavising for a car. As he waited, he looked around him at the others in the crowd.

The population of Uraishima IV was primarily of ethnic Asian decent. The strait suits and colorful lapels denoted the various members of the Starcaste. At their sides some had Landcaste managers respectfully discussing production and business issues. Others traveled with Bondsman retainers, their plain clothes and downcast eyes setting them apart from their masters. A few traveled alone. One of those, a slight woman with alluring dark features, he noticed was eyeing him from a few paces away.

He could see her expression as she took in his well-built 191cm frame. He was a handsome gwai lo; his Itaki-Hing Cheong suit spoke of wealth, his stance and demeanor of confidence. As her gaze came back to rest on his face, she saw that he had noticed her appraisal, and looked quickly away. When she returned her gaze, she saw he was still looking at her. Her eyes narrowed.

Silverston smiled.

At that moment the transport arrived and people began to press into the waiting car. Once inside Silverston accessed Uraishima's info-net, datavising the Nakaroki Grand Hotel to advise of his arrival. The hotel guest services VI informed him in response that a limo had already been dispatched to the arrival terminal and was waiting for him at the VIP passenger pick up on level three. Good service, he thought with a slight smile at his situation.

Silverston, Ryan T.—Director of Financial Research, Shuman and Sohn—had come to Uraishima to arrange for the acquisition of a large store of Tanlithium gas from the Yanagasi corporation, headquartered on Uraishima IV. The exchange would be beneficial for both parties as Yanagasi would profit greatly on the large amount of Tanlithium purchased, and 'Shuman would turn a handsome profit on the proceeds of the Imperial contract. Both parties knew the other's position, the details having been hammered out weeks before. The trip was merely an excuse to be entertained—luxuriously entertained—by the vendor for such a large purchase. At least that was the official version.

Reality, however, was somewhat different. While the contract and exchange were genuine, the rest was a bit different. Ryan T. Silverston—Director of Financial Research, Shuman and Sohn—was, in actuality, Davis L. Drake, Commander, 3rd Imperial Guard—Naval Intelligence. Shuman and Sohn itself was an actual, highly-respected Senior Starguild member. However, though numerous holding companies and false fronts, the Imperium owned a controlling share of Shuman's voting stock. The remaining stockholders had never questioned the majority shareholder votes, as lucrative Imperial contracts kept them in the roll.

The true reason for Drake's visit to Uraishima was as a courier, but not in the conventional way. Drake was carrying a virus, a highly structured and very synthetic virus. Coursing through his blood stream were millions of small—and currently inert—nanites. The nanites would only become active upon a three stage command accesses though a sub-mnemonic relaxation routine. When Drake entered the offices of his contact at Yanagasi—and passed a bio-neural scan—he would activate the sleeping giants, which would make their way to the surface of his skin through his pores. There they would wait until contact was made with another human with a specific sampling pattern.

The nanites would then transfer—via a handshake—to its unknowing victim, hiding just beneath the skin, nestling down to sleep again alongside sensory neurons in the hand. Drake knew that the nanites would awaken when his contact datavised his personal access code to the Yanagasi corporate net. What would happen from there Drake could guess... but really didn't want to know.

The transport car stopped and Drake exited along with the others passengers. As he made his way toward the VIP exit, Drake saw her standing at a data pillar straddling the VIP exit; the woman who had been watching him at the tube stop. Making his way through the crowd, he stepped close, waiting for her to complete her business. As the woman finished, she turned finding Drake waiting beside her. He smiled encouragingly. The dark-haried beauty returned a slight smile, looking up at him.

"/Neih/ /hou/," he said with slight bow and a boyish grin, then continued in Basic, "Look, I am going to this private party at the Yanagasi executive complex." He paused registering the data-stream from his REAC nodes, noting the minute increase of the woman's pulse, and slight widening of the eyes. "I saw you at the stop a few minutes ago and thought I would ask if you'd like to go along", he continued while holding out his datacard. "I'm staying at the Nakaroki Grand, call me if you're interested," he finished as the woman took the card, his fingers trailing slightly on her hand. He smiled at her again and then stepped to a limo driver who held a placard with his name on it. The driver, assuming the towering ghost man to be his client, quickly opened the passenger area door for "Mr. Silverston".

Once inside the limo Drake lowered the view-seal enough to see the woman standing with his card in hand, looking toward him. As the limo began to pull away he mouthed "Call me", then sat back in the seat, smiled, and enjoyed the ride.
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He had been born into a Starcaste family, the 3rd son of his father's second wife; fifth of five in total. Knowing that his birth order would never get him much from his blood alone, when Drake came of age he enrolled for Imperial military service, as had so many other 'seconds of seconds'. A fortuitous thing it turned out. When Drake was twenty one his father and oldest brother were found guilty of distributing technological information to non-Starguild sources and his family's status was dissolved. The then Sergeant Drake was allowed to maintain his Starcaste status due to his excellent service record…and a few favors that were owed…

At the age of twenty eight he was in service with the 33rd Mobile Infantry on Carver's Well along with the 27th Cavalry and 2nd Imperial Guard. The duty was supposed to be pretty simple. A listening outpost for the 'Malcontents had been found on Carver's Well, an AG holding on the edge of Starguild space. ISS recon teams had found that the locals not only knew of the Rebels presence, but also had been providing food and supplies to the spy outpost.

The Starguild Senate had decided to make an example of Carver's Well against any others who would provided succor to rebel terrorists. A detachment of the 7th Space Bombardment Fleet pounded the Bondsman enclaves on Carver's Well for five days. No warning was given. The Landcaste managers died alongside their Bondsman workers.

After the bombing, the 33rd MI and 27th Cavalry were brought in for clean up. The few starveling Bondsman survivors did not put up a fight. For weeks the Mobile Infantry combed the planet for any rebel survivors. Eventually they did find the listening outpost, a mid-sized facility that had been set up in a dormant processing plant closed for the seven-year crop rotation cycle. Drake was with the team that found the outpost. There were maybe fifteen dead rebels, most found at what remained of a complex communications/space tracking array. They must have known that the 7th Fleet was coming to bomb the planet. Why didn't they withdraw? Drake did not understand.

For publicity—Drake was later to find—the 2nd Imperial Guard was brought to the planet. With them came the media. The vids that Drake saw of the remote shoot from the rebel outpost looked nothing like what he had seen in person. Propaganda posters lay about the floors and remaining walls. A cache of micro-neutron explosives were discovered in what Drake knew for certain had been a mostly empty food storage area. And, amazingly, a vid-disc of rebels torturing Bondsmen women and children for information was found. Amazing was right, one of hapless Bondsmen's torturers looked to Drake to be the same ISS Commander he had seen briefly at the debriefing after his company's find of the outpost. Drake knew from experience that everything he saw on vids about the rebels was not true, but what he saw on Carver's Well turned even his stomach.

Two days later, things changed.

The rebels came back.

In what amounted to a small massacre for the 2nd Guard, ten rebel strike rails transported down twenty Power Armor equipped DST strike teams. The attack was timed perfectly, with nearly all of the 33rd and 27th out on the final planetary sweep before extraction. Only the 2nd Guard and those of the 33rd and 27th on downtime were at the base site. Still the combined Imperial strength outmatched the rebel force 20 to 1.

It was not enough.

The attack came during the planet's night cycle when most of the soldiers were quietly sleeping in their posh Starcaste barracks. Most of the few that were active were taken out by an advanced team of rebel strikers. How they had gotten on to Carver's Well before the arrival of the strike rails was a mystery. Regardless, when the strike rails arrived, and deposited their deadly payload, the Imperial force at the base site was caught unawares. Drake's company was on downtime cycle when the attack occurred. He awoke to the chaos at commencement of the attack, the sound of explosions and LASE fire tearing though the once-peaceful night. In the confusion he managed to rally a small mixed-company of soldiers together. Having been at the sites of two previous rebel striker raids Drake knew that the base would be a death-trap for any left inside, as few, if any, of the weapons that the Imperials had been allotted would be able to do much more than annoy the PA equipped rebels.

Drake's unit used grenade launchers to dissuade pursuit during their retreat from the base. The rebels chose not to pursue the small group into the night, instead choosing to concentrate their firepower on destroying the base site. For what seemed like hours to Drake, the sound of screams, explosions, and LASE weapons filled his ears. Then slowly, as his rag-tag company made their way further into the darkness, the sounds eventually ceased.

Later that night he would find that one of his company was actually the Imperial Field Commander for the 2nd Guard. Shaken and battered he had been half carried from the base site by two of his troopers. Even later, Drake would give credit to that same commander for saving the lives of the mixed bag of survivors. The Commander was decorated.

Lieutenant Drake would later be en-route to his new posting with the 3rd Imperial Guard. One favor for another.

A few years would pass before another favor and his own skills for self-preservation garnered his next position, a three-year assignment with Naval Intelligence.

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A/N: Sorry, lots of narrative, not much dialog. Drake is a terminal extrovert with a slight overconfidence issue. And he lies. A lot.

For Tim, et al., the assault on Air Subcon 10, Delta, Farrier, 'Trashman', and other dark things with real dialog and things getting stabbed shall follow.