The mercenary fleet under Tagon's command enters orbit over Yoming.
We're here! On your feet boys! It's time to earn your pay!
You heard the Sergeant, troops! It's time to go pull some fat-cat's fat outta the fire.
Redhead UNS Sergeant:
I'm gonna enjoy stickin' perps to the walls, Captain.
Captain, I'm unable to raise our employer on the comm.
We're in orbit over the coordinates he sent, right?
It's just after dark down there so clear imaging is taking a little longer. There's an IR point-source fouling the low-light sensors.
Oh. Hmmm. . .
That can't be good.
What? What can't be good?
The point-source is where our employer's building should be.
The rioters got there early?
Ummm. . . no. Your garden-variety rioter doesn't leave glowing craters.