Ares. An arid, dust-choked wasteland of red sand. Home to some of the largest mining corporations in the entire quadrant. Trillions of tons of soil, rock, and ore were moved and mined throughout a year in the supergiant planet's underground. The natural resources: metals for parts, alloys, and trace medicines. Gemstones - the clearer and more professional cut, the better. Alkalines and soft metals used in industry for creating ship cores and power grids across modern civilizations. Of course, all of this potential wealth floating around on an uninhabited, unregulated planet led to violence. Copious amounts. The Saiyan Empire professed no interest in staking a claim on the distant mining world, but even so, the USD had. Yakone and Yangcong had been disrupting their operations for the better part of four years. Revenge for their subjugation of the Saiyan people under their rein and the humiliation of their now reviled King.

Unlike the Planetary Trade Organization, the USD didn't pack overwhelming military might and a galactic empire that dwarfed the Saiyans. No Changelings, no infinite resources, just pure luck, and cowardly leaders. At least, that's what he thought of them. Yakone had been raised to revile those seeking to chain him, and while the PTO were bitter rivals, they had never scored such a personal blow. Information 'liberated' from some associates had revealed that the USD placed much of their stock in two corporations on the west side of the planet: Vulcan and Midas. While competitors on the surface, both had aligned interests that meant their secret unity controlled almost thirty percent of the mining efforts on Ares. Disrupting it would put a noticeable dent in the USD's cash flow and force a sizeable response if they ever wished to get it running again.

Yakone wore his atypical armored jacket, the hood pulled up and a headcase respirator on. His tail was tucked beneath his clothing, and a pair of white gloves were pulled over his hands to keep out sand. He entered a miner and visitor bar, stepping in from the raging dust storm outside with a heavy sigh. Most of the patrons paid him no need, uninterested or too hammered to care. The Aliens here slaved away working machines and picks to make their bosses wealthy, while only ever seeing a fraction of the money in pay. Some corporations even paid out half salary in company currency that could only be exchanged for local goods like food, water, and booze. Yakone moved to take a stool by the bar, two seats down from a drunken blue Brenchian face down in his own spittle. A blaster was snug to his hip, a common site in a lawless land.

"What can I get ya for?" The bartender lurched over, consumed by an enormous, bristly white beard that somehow wasn't shedding everywhere. A pair of luminescent yellow eyes stared out at Yakone from the bearded person. The Saiyan slowly placed a few silver credits on the counter, tapping the counter. "Your finest, not your strongest." It elicited a chortle from the Alien, who immediately began to reach for a honey-gold bottle. "Afraid you won't find much finer goods out yonder, sir, but I'll serve what I can." Yakone grunted, accepting the drink and nursing it. He was in no rush. "Pardon the assumption, but based on your getup, I'd wager you to be one of those hired guns?" The Corpos on planet often hired out security to mercenary bands. No guard worth his salt would stay on Ares for any length of time if they valued their sanity.

"Unaffiliated," Yakone replied thoroughly. "A simple man traveling across the galaxy." The bartender nodded in understanding, though it was likely he believed Yakone to be lying. Even IF guards were hired, that didn't make them loyal to the corpos. Mercenaries got ousted for theft and property damage almost as much as the workers did. Simply claiming to NOT be employed was a dog whistle that a guard was unhappy with their employment. "Well. There might be a few side jobs for simple men looking to make some extra credits. Been a while since the last one blew through, so our list is gettin' long." As simple as it'd seemingly be to wander over to the West Side and blow stuff by hand to complete his mission, it'd amount to nothing. Yakone needed to do long term structural and societal damage on Ares to disrupt the mining meaningfully. And step one of his plan involved getting disgruntled locals' trust.

"I'm interested. Where would someone go to look at these requests?" Beardo pointed to a literal board at the far end of the bar, a multitude of slips tacked on. Yakone lifted his mask slightly, downing his drink in one go before standing to check the board. Most of it was basic frontier issues. Water shortages, petty banditry, wild animals eating up livestock (and people). Boring, easy work, but a good start. Yakone tore a dozen off the wall, tucking them away in a capsule before nodding in thanks to the bartender. "See you soon." First up on his list... water issues. For that, he'd need to meet with the miner town's unofficial mayor. Yakone sighed again. The things he did for revenge. Boggled the mind, honestly. Most Saiyans would be content with running up to the problem and punching it in the face, but sadly, he was raised with a semblance of tact.