Wasp-Alpha flew over the Halirose rooftops unnoticed. These tiny Insect drones used to be top-of-the-line spyware, but they were near useless in the modern Federation; Nanite filtration in every building and Bio-scanners on every street corner meant even if the biologicals didn't notice the suspicious insect, the drones stood out like a beacon to security systems.

That being said, Alpha found them exceedingly helpful on less developed planets. Their small size meant they would go unnoticed in most situations, and their nanite construction let them slip in and out of gaps no bigger than a grain of pollen. The Wasp model was Alpha's personal favorite. It was the smallest size viable for self-replication (drone factories could only be made so small) while still being large enough to split into smaller squads as needed.

Unnoticed, Wasp-Alpha landed on the roof corner of a small canvas stall beside a bustling street. The stall itself wasn't very exciting, seemingly selling a selection of plants giving off small amounts of Spiritual Energy and Mana. They weren't anything impressive from what Alpha's recordings could tell, though they seemed to generate enough interest from the general crowd to attract a steady stream of customers.

It was time to get to work.

Over the next two hours, Alpha made detailed recordings of the Halirosa people using the lexicon he'd developed over the last few months. He logged not only the name of many everyday items and services but was able to calculate their rough prices and the value of the various currencies used. This was made even more helpful by the fact that Halirosa seemed to be a melting pot of more than a few cultures from various parts of the Continent and beyond. Articulate had once told him that if you genuinely wanted to understand a culture, visit their market. Well, he could give her that one, he guessed.

One thing became abundantly clear through his observations. It was becoming increasingly likely that this world had previous contact with the Federation, his records be damned. In just the first hour, Alpha had spotted nearly a dozen races who were confirmed members of the First and Second Federations. Granted, there were some differences, but nothing that genetic drift couldn't account for.

Was this really some lost colony? If so, why was there no record of it? Let alone the discoveries he'd made involving Spiritual particles in just a few months, several materials he'd scanned would have the eggheads foaming at the mouth.

At the same time, it couldn't be a lost colony. He'd have to find a book store to confirm some of the dates, but Halirosa seemed to have a history spanning thousands of years, let alone some of the nations or "clans" he'd heard in passing. Jīshí herself claimed to be as old as the ground itself but had no knowledge of the Federation before his arrival.

Yet, the Third Federation was only 4,210 Standard Years old. The Second before that lasted only 1,003 Standard Years before the Nano-Plague nearly wiped out the still recovering Galactic population once more. Granted, the First Federation had held firm for nearly 12,000 Standard Years, but for the vast majority of that, it was the "United Federation of Mankind," only consolidating with other failing empires into the "First United Federation" during the 500-year-long war against the Hunters at the end of that Era.

The timelines didn't add up. There was more going on here, Alpha knew.

But! That wasn't important at the moment. At least not to Alpha. He was a soldier, not a Historian. Still, the information seemed like it might be important one day, if not to him, then to those smarter than him who might be able to figure it out. With that thought, he filed away his observations for a later date and returned to his people watching.

Not surprisingly, the number one topic on everyone's lips was the return of the "Adventurers" and his little parade.

Good. The more the general public talked, the easier it was to act in the open. Though it might cause a bit more... Chaos... than if he'd been gentler with the situation, in the end, this would work in his favor. Years of experience had taught Alpha it wasn't the people in power who you had to sway to your side; it was the common man. Hell, most of the time, doing so meant getting rid of the people in power anyway. It was a Win-Win for everyone. Well, except for those who ended up in a crater, at least it was fun for Alpha.

And who doesn't love a little chaos anyway? Chaos was the spice of life! And if that Chaos happened to make things easier for Alpha to do his thing? Who was going to complain?

Well, Ok, Articulate probably would.

... and the General...

and Assassinate...

Si'dia, too, though she complained about all of Alpha's ideas.

Then there was Jīshí; she seemed like the type...

Ok! Who IMPORTANT was going to complain?! No one?! Perfect! Chaos it was!

Now it was just a matter of finding the right... partner.

Finishing up his recording, Wasp-Alpha lept from his hiding place, took to the air, and began his search. It wouldn't take long in a melting pot of a city like Halirosa to find what he was looking for, and sure enough, an hour later, he found it.

The Slums.

It seems no matter the world, the culture, or the level of wealth and prosperity, where people gathered, some would go without. Even the Federation hadn't been able to solve the problem of poverty entirely, only move the "line" up. It was inevitable as Death or Taxes, more so in a place like Halirosa where cultures from around the world meld and clashed.

Alpha smiled to himself and, in short order had a small Nano-Factory built and ready. To anyone who entered the abandoned building on the outskirts of the Slums, it would appear to be nothing more than a large wasp's nest taking up a corner of a dusty room. In another hour, Alpha had a small swarm of AI-controlled silver wasps buzzing through the Slums, both mapping the area and sending reports to him. He was looking for something very particular, but given the size and area he was scouting, it was only a matter of time before we stumbled across something that met his requirements.

Sure enough, after three more hours, periodically checking in on the meeting with Captain Stonewall as needed (there was a LOT of information to cover), Alpha hit pay dirt. Slipping his perspective into the observing Wasp Drone that had sent him the signal, Alpha smiled down at the scene playing out in front of him.

A group of six rough-looking men stood in front of a worn-down building in a style strikingly similar to old-world chapels or temples. In front of the chapel stood a young woman in an otherwise plain dress, though accented with various symbols Alpha recalled seeing in the stone structure what seemed ages ago. The woman's skin was a dark, rich caramel that contrasted strangely but elegantly with her knee-length, almost white, platinum hair. Her sky-grey eyes stared at the group impassively, arms behind her back as if she'd done this a thousand times before.

The lead Thug, in contrast, smirked silently at the woman, his sharp, clean features not what one would expect from a roughen from the slums. Despite that, his eyes still glowing with a dark coldness that spoke of one use to the cruelty of the streets, even as he casually rocked on his heels, hands in his pockets.

Behind the woman, in the open doorway, stood three older Teenagers and a gaggle of smaller children.

The first boy, no more than 15, was a scrawny, Rat looking boy with shifting eyes on a face that looked like he hadn't eaten in weeks, despite the relative plumpness of many of the other children's faces. His eyes were constantly darting around as he hopped from foot to foot. A less observant person might have mistaken it for nerves like the boy would bolt as soon as the silent stalemate in front of him broke. But Alpha knew that look in his eyes; those were the eyes of a snake, waiting patiently for the right moment to strike. Alpha liked him already.

The girl beside him, a few years older, visibly shook as if about to pop. She would have been pretty, by most standards, with bright, ruby eyes that seemed to almost glow, with thick, obsidian hair that cascaded down to her mid-back. Her small, gentle face would have turned heads if it wasn't for the pulsing line of a scar that ran down one side of her face and through one of her eyes, leaving it a dead, cloudy grey. Her pale face nearly matched the red of her eyes, and they stared unblinking at the group of thugs.

The final boy, Alpha, had to double-check he was even a boy and not a man. The kid was HUGE, larger than even some of the grown men outside. Couple that with a face that could scare a bandit (plus a beard to beat a dwarf's), and the boy of no more than 17 (if scans were to be believed) cut an impressively intimidating figure. Despite his size, Alpha noted the boy seemed to be the most nervous of the lot. He constantly looked between the two groups, seemingly unsure what to do. The smaller children seemed to huddle behind his massive frame instinctively.

The silent standoff seemed to last for a long minute before the lead thug spoke, finally taking his hands out of his pockets and spreading them out wide as if begging, though the slimy smirk on his face said otherwise.

His voice was surprisingly silky and smooth, more reminiscent of a playboy from one of the ancient Dramas that Eden, the AI known to the greater Federation as "Terraform," used to force him to watch than a common street thug.

"Come on now, Sister Audrea, don't make this harder than it has to be. Coldfinger's always treated you well, hasn't he? Are you going to throw all that goodwill away for a brat?"

"Sister Audrea's" eyes narrowed as she gave a glare that made the Thug visibly wince. When she spoke, her voice was notably craggy in a way that didn't quite match her beautiful face, as if some old injury hadn't quite healed properly.

"I don't remember raising you to hurt children, Thomas. I didn't blame you when you left us. Nor did I say a word when you joined Coldfinger's gang. But I swear on the Prima, if you touch one of my Children, I WILL make you remember who it is you're speaking to."

Thomas's smirk slipped for a moment before he could recover, his voice slightly less confident when he replied.

"Don't be like that, Audrea... "

"Sister Audrea."

Thomas flinched slightly.

"... Right... Be that as it may, I don't remember you raising us as Thieves, either. Let alone, stupid ones... are you really going..."

"I'm not a thief!"

A small girl peeked out from behind the giant boy's leg.

Thomas leaned over and sneered at the girl.

"Aye, maybe you didn't take anything yourself, but you sure as hell let our Mark get away. That's as good as theft to Coldfinger."

Seeming unable to control herself any longer, the older black-haired girl stepped forward.

"That's a load of bull-crap, and you know it! You people are the ones who stole the Spirit Beast in the first place! You're just trying to pawn the blame for letting it get away, so Coldfinger doesn't skin your hides. Typical of you, Thomas, never able to accept the blame."

Thomas's mouth twitched as he turned his attention to the young woman.

"Your mouth is as fiery as ever, Ann. But, be that as it may, my point still stands. The little brat is to blame for this whole mess. Coldfinger does not tolerate failure... or dissidence. I'd have thought you, of all people, would have learned that by now. But then, I guess your brains not grown quite as fast as your chest."

The black-haired young woman, Ann, turned a shade redder and moved to step forward, only to be stopped by the deceptively firm grip of the scrawny boy beside her. He then spoke, his voice wispy and quiet yet seeming to carry farther than it should.

"I fail to see how that's our problem, Thomas. You can blame Merry for your screw-up all you want, but that's not going to change anything."

Thomas leaned forward, exaggeratedly putting his hand over his eyes as he looked around.

"Is that you, Bartholomew? Gasp, I didn't see you there. You're so tiny; I always lose track of you. Are you 'sure' you're not part Rat? Come, come let Big Bro get a good look at you. Or are you just going to hide behind Jonah, like you always do?"

Bartholomew sneered, his gaunt face showing teeth that looked more ready to bite than a smile.

"We may be blood, but don't pretend you were ever my Brother, Thomas. Besides, being small comes with advantages. Like being able to squeeze through barred windows. Nice place you've got, by the way. However, I replaced some of your spices with ones you might find more... Nostalgic. For old time's sake."

Thomas paled slightly, making a mental note to burn all of his food reserves. It might be better to burn the whole bloody building at that point. Who knew what other "surprises" the little Rat had managed to hide.

"Enough!"

Sister Audrea's voice roared as she glared at all three in equal measure.

"I've heard enough of you, Thomas. Tell Coldfinger that if he wants to settle things, he can come here himself. But I WILL NOT be giving him one of my Children. I don't care what the situation or circumstances are. I may be an Outcast, but I still have enough connections and power to make that man regret touching one of mine."

Thomas was silent for a long moment before he slowly walked forward. The children in the doorway tensed up, though Sister Audrea remained as calm and steadfast as always, not taking a single step forward or back. The young man stopped only inches away, the few inches of height he had on her, letting him look down his nose at her.

"Always so dame stubborn. Always so sure you're in the right. Never any flex, never any give. That's what I hated about you, you know? It drove me insane. Though I guess I shouldn't expect less from the 'Stone Witch,' should I? But there's no other option, this time, Audrea."

He spat the name, venom dripping from his voice.

"As surely as the winter ice breaks the stone, you will bend, or you WILL break. Then again..."

He raised a hand and gently stroked the stoic woman's face.

"Coldfinger's always mentioned how he's had a thing for you. Maybe if...Uhhhhhhhgggggg"

Thomas's body stiffened as his eyes bulged, and he let out a low, soft moan. Mechanically, his eyes turned downward to find Merry's tiny foot buried deep between his legs. With a grunt, Thomas sunk to his knees, clutching two broken eggs, even as the girl's small fist slammed against his jaw.

And with that 1-2 combo, Chaos erupted.