Several years have passed since the first chapter. A new voice describes the new Pioneer 2. Italics represent thoughts. As always, I welcome comments.

I barely restrain a huge grin as I walk from the residential transporter. The day before, I had finally achieved my license with the Hunter's Guild. I had finally earned the right to travel onto Ragol and do my part to help the people of Pioneer 2. It was rumored among my generation of Hunters that developers had begun to make inquiries as to land rights on Ragol 2. From there, we eagerly anticipated a great deal of easy work to open up.

With these thoughts in mind, I walk thoughtfully around Pioneer 2. I enter the shop area and grin at all the weapons and armor for sale. I had trouble imagining that the shops for a time had an unreliable selection, I could not even comprehend the amount of stock available now. I had little Meseta, however, and my excitement dissipates for a moment.

I hesitate before leaving the shops– items, weapons, and armor was sold regularly by individuals officially approved by the Principal. A large crowd is always in the specialty shop center; different individuals sold grinders, techniques, and anyone with a rare item or two is welcome. The sights and sounds of the market are addictive to many. Nearly everyone with meseta, and many that had little to their name, spend a great deal of time in the merchant area. I know that in my current state of mind I would only be depressed there; I could not purchase anything, after all. I have nothing to store, either. Limited storage is provided free of charge for Hunters, and civilians and Hunters alike can pay for space. The few truly great hunters have more space, and of course more rare items, than my entire graduating class. I renew my vow to become one of those great people as I step through the now open door.

"Hey Ken! Congrats!" I turn to the familiar voice, a grin forming before I even saw her.

"Thanks, you too!"A beautiful HUnewarl, my friend Hikari, grins back. Her outfit was as white as her hair, and lighter than her lightly tanned skin. Most people remember her expressive green eyes and attractive face, rather than her hair or skin. We graduated from the same class, and were looking forward to plowing through monsters together. "Where're you headed?" I match her pace as we walked toward the Ragol transporter. I expect a sarcastic reply, as if either one of us possess a destination other than the planet. Instead, we had nearly reached the Principal's transporter before she replied.

"Ah, actually, I wanted to check out the display cases at the Hunter's Guild again." She looked away, her hair hiding the emotion in her eyes. I glance at her face, wondering if I was interpreting her voice correctly. I am a little apprehensive, myself, but she seemed frightened. I carefully consider my response, an action I admit I should perform more regularly. The simple question of why? flashes through my head, but she did not seem to want to talk. She appears to desire comfort, more than anything.

I put my arm around her shoulder, and she turns to me in slight surprise. "Sounds good, I was thinking of looking at those weapons myself. After all, we have a different perspective for those who have died for Pioneer 2 now, don't we?" I smile at her. Her expressive green eyes show surprise and blink before finally smiles back at me.

The Hunter's Guild opens at our approach, and Hikariquickly moves to her favorite display: Shino's mechguns. I stand in the center of the Guild and look around. I know all of the stories of these heroes, as do all Hunters and most everyone else. My particular favorites are the famous Bernie, Kireek, Zoke, and of course Rico. Though Mordecai was still alive, the greatest warrior of all was pressured to donate a weapon for the little exhibit and provided the Raygun he used to kill Dark Falz. There were so many items that only small plaques showed what the items were. There was no room for elaborate label copies in this museum, but of course everyone knew the stories anyway. I moved closer to the Red Ring, seeing my own reflection in the glass.

I had skill, but no true experience. My posture did not show weariness I had seen in most of my instructors, an absence I was not disappointed to perceive. My HUmar uniform was black, and my hair brown. My eyes and face were young, and not as harsh as some.

A frightening thought emerges: so many heros had died in battle, how could I and others expect to survive? But I dispose of that thought by reminding myself that they had died so that we may live, hurling themselves at impossible odds and doing far better than anyone could have expected. Though I am certain they had no true alternative, I always remind myself to avoid such situations wherever possible.

I am still staring at my reflection. Suddenly, I perceive a hand on my shoulder and turn to see . "Ready to go?" She questions me gently, perhaps aware of my thoughts. She could only see a slightly distorted version of my features, but knows me well enough to probably have a good guess as to my musings. I nod, and we walk thoughtfully to the Ragol transport.

The guards nod at us, recognizing our faces either in spite of the fact that they were recently added to the file, or perhaps because of that fact. I time my step to match with hers as we stop in the middle of the shimmering transport. "Well?" I ask, my throat slightly dry. She only nods and grins slightly as I reach for the button, only to gasp in surprise.

A form was materializing next to me. It's common courtesy to wait for the transporter to empty before activating it, but this guy was obviously in a hurry. I was hoping it was another inexperienced friend, perhaps looking for help or just a friendly face. But no, the dark HUmar before me was unfamiliar. I study him, for lack of any other response. He is much older and experienced than anyone I can recall seeing. He nods distractedly at us and jogs quickly to the Principal's transporter, wasting no motion. He holds his hands as if he were adjusted to hefting a weapon with his right hand and compensating for it with the left. He appears to spend much more time on Ragol than the ship, for a period of several years no less. The guards straighten at both transporters and salute sharply to the man, who nods again with anxiety and distraction. I watch with a fascinated eye as he disappears again. Could it be him!

"What is it?" Hikari asks, not with impatience, but simple curiosity. She knows me well enough to realize I was not simply daydreaming.

"I think that was. . ." She beckones me to continue with a small nod and wave. . . " Mordecai-san." I whisper his name reverently. While I had only heard rumors about the behavior of the battle-weary Mordecai, I was sure I would truly meet him someday and be able to provide a first-hand description of the great warrior. I had thought about why he was not participating, or more likely leading, the efforts on Ragol. A few people snidely whispered he was afraid, but the descriptions of those who had seen him in battle refuted rumors of cowardice. Myself, I am certain the reason was tied in with his experiences in battle. He was rumored to be modest, rather than arrogant, so he must feel that his presence would not provide as much protection as his absence would.

The guards stiffen at the whispered name, and I honestly think they deliberately restrained themselves from looking at me. I doubt they would say anything, and after all, I have a schedule to keep. "Never mind." I smile at her to take away any sting the words might have otherwise contained. "Let's go!" I stare at her as her form and mine are transported to Ragol's surface.

Author's Note:
Next chapter will be a good bit longer, with plot (I promise!) and a few prominent PSO characters.