The room was quiet. Adjusting the oxygen flow on his life support the old man gave a tired sigh. Being confined to his wheelchair it was one of the few things left he was still able to physically do. The large window that took up the whole wall behind him was the only light that filled the room. It was heavy overcast today. Calmly, once he had the proper flow of oxygen, he began to organize the papers on his desk. As he was just about done there was a sudden gust of cold air, and a loud crash as the door to his office was thrown from its hinges, and smashed through the window behind him. The papers were a mess, but he didn't mind.

"You seem to be in good health all things considered," the old man spoke calmly. The one who destroyed his door strode into the room. The old man's wheelchair had a motor in it which allowed him some degree of movement as he came out from behind his desk. "I know why you're here," he managed to say as he painfully stretched to pick up some papers that were on the floor. "And, personally, I don't blame you." A cold hand seized the old man by the throat, and lifted him from his chair. Through pained gasps he managed to get out, "Please…may I…say something…first?" After a few moments the hand dropped him back into the chair. The old man went into a coughing fit as he readjusted his oxygen flow, and took deep breaths. Once he had regained his composure he looked his guest in the eyes. He could still see that same hatred from all those years ago burning within. "I'm not going to ask for your forgiveness as I don't believe myself to deserve it. Nor do I want it as that would be an insult to my former comrades." His hand, shaking from his age, gently brushed his wispy, white hair from his face. "But, I would like to understand. For both of us to understand fully what happened." He took a deep breath as he waited for an answer. A curt nod was all he got. "Thank you," he said as he took one of the papers from his desk.

It was a warmer day than usual all things considered. The beating Vacuo sun was high in the sky. Mimi wiped the sweat from her brow, and brushed her black hair out of her eyes. It was about to touch her shoulders. While she inspected her new bow, and arrows she made a mental note to visit Carls for a haircut when she returned.

It was a busy midweek afternoon in the bustling merchant village of Solace. Dust stalls dominated the village square as a fresh vein had been discovered in the nearby mine. The short, caramel girl paid the crowd no heed as she was on the job. Her family owned a caravan that transported dust across the vast deserts of Vacuo, and she was now old enough to join her family on their next run. "Ain't you kids supposed to be in school right now?" a familiar, coarse voice called to her.

Without missing a beat Mimi turned towards the voice, and responded, "I'll have you know I'm fifteen now, Mr. Frader," she stood up straight, and puffed out her chest. The old man gave a laugh.

"Ohoo, my apologies, Ms. Valus. I mistook you for that rambunctious kid that would ditch their classes to watch the village militia practice combat dril-" The old man couldn't finish without going into a coughing fit. Mimi walked over, and offered him a waterskin from her pack, which was gladly accepted. When his coughing subsided he looked her up, and down, "Hardly recognized you in that getup."

"I just picked it up from Merry." Mimi gave a twirl to show off her new outfit. A loose fitting white shirt held down with leather straps, and buckles. Sturdy brown pants, and ankle high boots. Her waist cape fluttered slightly in the breeze.

"She does fine work." He leaned back in his chair as the sun was starting to creep passed his shop's front awning. Mimi gave a sign, and nodded in agreement. She knew what he wanted to say, and that he was still trying to find the right way to phrase it.

"I'll be fine."

"I know."

"Mom, and dad have done this countless times."

"I know. It's just…" Mr. Frader was the village's loving grandpa. Everyone knew him, and he knew everybody. He hated seeing his 'kids' go.

"I can handle myself. Besides," she twirled the bow in her hands, "I'm not defenseless anymore."

"I know lass, and you never were. Just gonna be quieter around here while you're gone." The two exchanged one last smile, and Frader gave her a last confident squeeze on the shoulder before he let her go. "Take care of yourself, Mimi." The two exchanged a single nod, and Mimi returned to her task at hand. The caravan team was loading dust crates onto the skimmers; similar to a medium sized boat except made to 'skim' along the sand while carrying cargo, and is usually pulled by two horses. Jerry, a boy about to hit twenty, was adjusting the canvas roof for one of the skimmers when Mimi arrived.

"You get that special delivery I asked for?" he asked as he tied the last knot to keep the tarp in place.

With a grin Mimi said, "Yup. Your girlfriend makes great cookies," she rubbed her stomach, and tossed him a bag from her pack.

"SH- She's not my girlfriend," he hastily inspected the contents of the bag to make sure Mimi hadn't eaten any of the cookies meant for him.

"Right. Sure. You two just happened to go to school together. Hang out all the time. Sleep over at each other's homes most nights you get. And are such good, normal friends that she bakes treats specifically for you when you head out."

"Your smarmy grin is ruining my cookies. I think your dad wanted to see you at the head skimmer." He waved her off while hugging the bag of cookies to his chest.

She stood as straight as she could, and gave a salute, "You got it, boss." Jerry smiled, and returned to prepping the skimmer as Mimi went to find her father. There were a total of four skimmers in her family's caravan. Jerry was the head of one, her mother the second, a retired miner named Coaltun was in charge of the third, and her father helmed the fourth which was at the head of the caravan. Philip was banking his late forties, but never showed it as he kept his body in top physical condition. He was feeding the horses when Mimi approached. And, immediately, went into dad mode.

"Do you have everything?"

"Yes."

"Enough water for a four day trip?"

"Yes."

"Backup water for the fifth, and sixth day?"

"Yes."

"New clothes fitting you properly?"

"Yes."

"Not to tight around your-"

"DAD," Mimi's face went red as her father gave a chuckle.

"Just giving you a hard time. It's not every day you take part in your first run." He gave her a loving smile, and rustled her hair, "Couldn't help it."

"Just because YOU forgot your extra change of clothes your first run doesn't mean our daughter will." Rain came up behind Mimi, and placed her hands gently on her daughter's shoulders as she raised an eyebrow at her husband. "She got her excellent prep skills from me." Mother, and daughter exchanged a high-five. Her father just shook his head as Mimi walked with her mother to their skimmer. "Tom already loaded up our skimmer early this morning. This is probably our biggest dust run of the year." Rain parted the tarp that covered her skimmer to show it filled with crates.

"ALL of that is dust?"

"Most, two are just extra supplies. When they said they struck a good vein they meant it." Mimi could only nod in agreement as she looked at all the crates. When the sun was beginning to leave its highest point the caravan departed Solace. Mimi sat in the front of the skimmer with her mother as a calm desert wind picked up. This was the day she officially became a Dust Runner. This was the day she was waiting for.