The vortex whirled around her, a mess of spinning colors, brighter than the sun itself. Light blues blended into greens and purples as she watched, mesmirized by the beauty around her. Though she had passed between the worlds many times, each time she was reminded of the overall beauty of the universe.

Since the invention of travel vortexing, Lara had been going between the moon and Mars, as the sole ambassador from Earth to the new colonies. Now, she was on her first trip to the newly added colony on Triton, one of the moons of Neptune.

The vortex stopped, and she climbed out of the trans-booth. Straightening her blue business suit, she stepped out into the pale sunlight from Sol-Alpha, the main star in the solar system. The people of Triton-Alpha awaited an ambassador, not some spaceport mechanic, so she put on a smile and readied herself for the usual political reception ceremony she had come to expect on the other colonies.

So, it was to her complete surprise when she stepped out into a completely empty terminal. Stepping cautiously into the open, her yellow-gold eyes scanned the area with an ease born of long years of practice. She had fought in the last two space wars, and had achieved the rank of captain before the end of the wars.

Now, she used those abilities to her advantage. Her pale hair blended in with the walls perfectly, as did everything but her suit. Indeed, over the years she had served in the military or as an ambassador, she had never seen anyone who looked like her. But when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, she realized that the room did have other people in it; people like her who blended in. The only difference was that their clothes were white as well.

Looking in the other direction, she saw that one of them was coming her way, a heavy blaster strapped at his side. Her first instinct was to take up a defensive stance, in case the man was an assassin. Then she remembered that she was an ambassador, and this was probably just the armed escort she was usually given.

Stepping forward to greet the man, she saw at the very last second a blaster muzzle rising on the roof, pointed at the other armed man, not her. Cursing under her breath, she ducked down and yanked out the scottish dirk she kept in the wide hem of her pants. With one swift motion, she rose and let the dirk fly from her hand.

It hit the man squarely in the chest with an audible thump, and blood gushed down the roof, dripping from the eves. He fell over dead, and the man who had been walking towards her smirked, pride in his eyes.