Shadow Stalkers: Jinx Pt. 5

Story by OnyxClaw on SoFurry

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Shadow Stalkers (c) OnyxClaw/-Blackout-


Chief Christoph Leibniz was already sat at the controls of Banshee-2 by the time JD had freed himself up from poking his head into the various departments on his walk to the shuttle bay to see how things were going. The Arctic Wolf had the turbines shrieking as he tested the engines, the fuser cowling at the rear of the sleek, matte black humpbacked shuttle smoldering like a pair of miniaturized volcanoes ready to erupt. The blast-plate was raised, blackened from thousands of shuttle launches, locked into position and ready for its next. Standing off to one side, watching a group of engineers fuss over Banshee-1 that still sat in the hangar at the rear of the launch bay, was a pair of battle armoured Legionaries, their combat las-rifles, which were smaller than the railgun assault rifles they preferred to use and far safer to use in a shipboard environment, were clipped at their backs. Neither Tyrannosaur or Unicorn wore their helmets, allowing JD to see the barely-contained grimaces on their faces.

JD looked past them and saw what the object of their study was.

'Damn, that's a bigger mess than I anticipated. Chief Litguard really played that one down in his report.' He said, coming to stand beside Tristan.

The T-Rex looked down at JD, the Saurian easily dwarving the Demon's height of six foot six inches by a solid foot, and grunted his acknowledgement.

'Took a face full of Lishni chaff and a confused Candaran missile that nearly blew us to atoms.' He said.

'I guess in a way, the Lishni saved our arses.' Anusi whickered softly, running a gauntleted hand through his close-cropped, white mane. He frowned, staring at the mangled shuttle sitting in its liftlock cradle as its dedicated crew of engineers bustled about it, doing what they could to save it from scrap.

'How the hell did you make it back to the ship?' JD asked in wonder. 'There's only half of it left.'

Tristan chuckled, a deep rumble rolling up from his chest as he shook his head in bewilderment. He jerked a thumb at Anusi. 'This guy's Tyrant Squad's lucky charm. You can set a full Tenglaar squad of Death Troopers on him and he'll find a way out of it.'

'Not something I'd like to test, to be honest.' Anusi said, a look of mild horror settling on his midnight blue features as his imagination got to work with the proposed scenario.

Behind them, Banshee-2 settled down, the soul-rending shriek quietening to a soft, rumbling purr that could be felt through the deck plates.

A distinctive, hard click sounded in his left ear and the ID of BNS-002 flashed up in the lower left corner of suit's HUD.

'Go ahead.' JD said over his comm.

'We're ready for launch, Captain.' Leibniz announced.

'Understood, Chief. We're loading up now.' He turned to Tristan and Anusi, and nodded to them. 'Put your buckets on and load up. We're off to see our Glorious Leader of the Moment.'

The two Legionaries clamped their helmets on, Anusi checking that the vacseal around the base of his twisting horn was sealed tight as he followed the other two up the lowered ramp of the shuttle. Once inside, the ramp was raised, sealing up with a soft sucking noise that was followed by a series of dull, metallic thuds as the locking mechanism drove eight rods of reinforced metal into the frame of the hatch. Tristan and Anusi strapped themselves into their crash seats in the troop compartment as JD strapped himself into the co-pilot's seat up front, since they were only crossing a distance of 6,500 kilometers to the Ecplise, something which would only take five minutes - or less, if Leibniz chose to open the throttle all the way and put the shuttle into full combat speed. As it was, with the intervening space between ships being riddled with cast-off debris and incoming tenders, a more sedate pace was maintained as they launched from the maw of the shuttle's launch bay, taking care as seven re-supply vessels of Shadow Stalkers registry popped up on the shuttle's sensors monitors. There wasn't nearly enough aboard those tenders to fully repair the damage to the Jinx, Reaper and the Eclipse, but it would be enough to get them home to Nuam or on to Impart Station, he was certain of that.

He watched through the foreport as one of the bulky, matte black and green striped freighters sidled up to the Jinx, choosing to dock with the rear-most airlock - the only airlock on that side of the destroyer that had not been damaged and was still functioning correctly. He held back a frustrated sigh as they turned away from the smaller ships, coming about in a gentle curve until they were lined up with the Eclipse. The dreadnought, painted the same light absorbent matte black and reflective green markings as the rest of the Shadow Stalkers fleet, was lit up as bright as a small industrial town. All the running lights that had survived the brief, but violent skirmish were switched on, illuminating the giant, shifting her from a sleek silohuette against the starscape, to a brightly coloured monster bathed in tints of reds, greens, whites and blues, their pattern of light declaring the big ship to be stationary, but alert and ready for action. The symbol of the Shadow Stalkers, a dark grey dragon's head on crossed broadswords that was painted on the rear-most dorsal was illuminated, but scarred and scuffed.

The closer they got to the Eclipse, the more damage that could be seen: The faint blue-purple of emergency force fields glimmered here and there along the ships' flanks. A scorched, twisted hole where a pair of missile batteries had been blown away deepened the darkness of the hull. A point-defense twin laser cannon mount had sheared free of its emplacement, the two conjoined cannons floating almost free of the ship, anchored only by a thick power cable.

And then there was the shuttle bay, the mouth of the launch/landing strip ragged, heat-warped and without its protective doors or emergency force field.

'What a mess.' JD muttered.

'Looks like Candara is going on the Shit List.' Leibniz said softly. He hailed the Eclipse and requested permission to land.

The reply was prompt, the external doors of the starfighter launch/landing strip below that of the shuttles' sliding apart and the interior blast door irising open to reveal a short but brightly lit landing strip, the landing lights pulsing in reverse to guide them in. The strip was wide enough to launch Vortexes three abreast into space, making the deployment and receipt of their full three squadron strong group much quicker. Chief Leibniz guided the Banshee into the interior of the dreadnought, the doors sliding shut behind them the moment they had crossed the threshhold, sealing them in. The shuttle glided smoothly deeper into the ship, settling down on its landing struts at the end of a row of black and green Vortex starfighters that were each sat snugly in their liftlocks, ready to be released and taxied into position. On the opposite side of the launch bay, was another squadron of 14 Vortexes secured in their liftlocks. A couple of pilots and technicians looked up from their tinkering to watch the newcomers disembark the shuttle. They each threw tired salutes as JD walked across the bay floor, past the parked fighters, to greet Lieutenant Commander Irene Darksong.

The smoky grey dragon was the Executive Officer of the Eclipse, and had been for the last three years. She was a solid officer, sleek of build and sharp of mind, with a punch that could crack rocks and magic that was as black and as wild as space itself. She saluted him - a Nymexian salute; clenched right fist pressed firmly against her chest, heels together, back rigid, tail curved at an upward angle towards the tip and wings flared just enough to suggest that she would attack at any given moment. JD returned the salute with one of his own native roots; his left palm hovering a centimeter above his heart, a flick of his barbed tail and a surge of magical energy to make the runes engraved in his curling, black horns glow with a more intense red, sending a few motes of glowing sparks into the air, like tiny, scattering fireflies.

Darksong cracked a toothy grin. The Shadow Stalkers had their own salute, but that was really only used for official gatherings, such as inspections or meetings with those of a higher rank. Beyond that, no one really cared to use it unless they were under those circumstances, especially since saluting a superior was hammered into everyone from the moment they had enlisted or been drafted, and the majority of the Shadow Stalkers were made up of personnel from various military backgrounds, from various different worlds, and lot of them came with their own brand of salute. It was just easier sticking with what you already knew.

Tristan bowed deeply and Anusi touched two fingers to the base of his horn. Darksong acknowledged their salutes with a smile and dropped her own, furling her wings tightly against her back.

'Welcome aboard the Eclipse, Captain D'armeus. Commodore Blacktip is waiting for you in the wardroom, so if you'll follow me...' She said in a dusky voice and led them to a lift.

Tristan took up sentinel by the shuttle's ramp, watching as Anusi followed JD and Darksong to the lifts. He studied the layout of the bay, taking stock of who and what was there as he awaited the arrival of Captain Umber from the Reaper and Admiral Meeshan from the Candara Grace.

Acting Commodore, Captain Kane Blacktip looked up from the holodisplay that floated a foot above the centre of the table's smooth, polished black surface. An image of the Eclipse rotated slowly, showing the external damage done by the Lishni forces. He nodded to JD as he walked in, a curt greeting being all he could manage at that time and gestured to the firm, black leather chair beside him. JD settled into the chair at the Shark's left whilst Darksong settled down to her captain's right, placing a datapad on the table top before her. Anusi took up a watchful, un-intrusive position in the corner of the room between one wall display showing the Eclipse's current status and another, wall-dominating screen showing a view of the outside world; pinprick stars painted on velveteen black, what was left of the ship's powerful sensors adding a distant nebula cloud to the backdrop.

Both Eclipse officers were dressed formally, wearing their Black Navy dress uniforms; black with the bright green piping of the Shadow Stalkers livery. In addition to his pips of rank on his high collar, the green epaulettes fringed with gold of the Commodore's rank rested on his shoulders.

'Any word on Umber?' JD asked, as he watched the holodisplay with morbid fascination. More damage had been done to the big ship than he realised. Both sides had been ravaged quite thoroughly and an exhaust hood was missing. It was amazing that the dreadnought was still slipstream capable.

'She's now in space and heading over. As for Meeshan, the Candara Grace has just come within range of real-time comms. They say they're sending over a pinnace and he will be here within thirty minutes.' Blacktip said.

'I thought they were closer than that? It's been four hours already.' JD said, his eyebrows raising slightly in surprise. He had never come across a commanding officer who ran late for anything, unless their ship had been destroyed or they had been called to something of more importance at the last minute.

'Their exec said they were dealing with drive issues. Issues, that apparently, run deeper than Meeshan would like to admit. He apologizes with all his hearts about the situation, too.'

'It's a damned shame that he isn't in charge of the Candaran task force instead of Meeshan. He seems more capable and far more genuine than his admiral.' Darksong interjected as she leaned back in her chair, lacing her fingers over her abdomen.

A steward bot trundled in, placing tall crystal tumblers on the table before vanishing back through the hatch it had come through. The holodisplay flashed once, catching their attention. A pair of dots appeared on a direct trajectory for the Eclipse, both vessels coming in hard. Blacktip half-rose from his seat, poised for action before settling back down again with a sigh of relief when the damaged computer caught up and tagged the two newcomers as being friendly. The deskcomm bleeped and the Commtech's voice came through, sounding tinny to all present.

'Captain, the Grace's pinnace and a shuttle from the Reaper have just arrived. They are initiating landing procedures right now and Major Kannarov and Gunny Twolitts will escort them up.'

'Thank you Lieutenant Daans. We are ready to recieve our guests.' Blacktip replied.

'Copy that, Sir.'

'So much for half an hour.' Darksong mumbled tiredly.

The line went dead. Blacktip looked to JD, staring deep into his smouldering eyes.

'Do you have your BR?' He asked.

'I do.' JD pulled the datachip out and placed it on the table before him. 'Downloaded onto a secure universal chip. All the basics are there and my ship's law team have given it their sign of approval.'

Blacktip nodded, a look of worry flickering across his grey face. 'Of the ships here, yours is most at risk. I will do everything I can to get payment for this contract and to secure your position and your crew's future.'

'No pressure then.' JD replied, deadpan. He then added with sincerity, 'I have utmost faith in you, Kane. Always have, always will. Nothing will change that. We've gone past our Third Time Lucky point and I am well aware of what will happen to me and my ship if the Candarans fail to pay up. And don't pull that face. I've been in far worse situations before, the only difference is that this time, I have evidence to back up my story. Evidence which you are apart of. And don't go ruining your career just to save mine. If you can land the payment, you're one step closer to solidifying that honourary rank, so concentrate on that. And if you can't, then it looks like I'll be going solo again and the Jinx will be looking for a new crew.'

The door to the wardroom slid open and Admiral Meeshan stepped in, flanked by one of his infantrymen who was dressed in light body armour, his face hidden behind a tough cloth mask with a rebreather attachment at the mouth. His combat rifle was slung at his back and he eyed the Stalkers warily before sidling off into the corner opposite Anusi. Admiral Meeshan was tall for a Candaran, measuring in at an imposing seven foot six. He was wiry, his bald head shining under the harsh lights of the wardroom. The tusks that jutted from his upper jaw were capped with gleaming gold and his long ears were hung with crimson and silver feathers, denoting his rank and ongoing noble heritage. Fleshy tendrils wrapped in golden cloth unfurled from his back, the two lengths of dark grey muscle extending around his waist to entwine with one another at chest height. He tilted his head slightly in what was supposed to be a nod of respect had he bothered to clasp his hands together at his chin.

The Stalkers stood up and gave their own salutes, full and crisp, with no hint of dishonour in return, the three refusing to sink to his level and show disrespect.

'Please, Admiral, have a seat. Captain Umber will be here momentarily.' Blacktip said, gesturing to a seat at the opposite end of the table. He turned to Major Kannolov and Gunnery Sergeant Twolitts, and dismissed them with a slight hand gesture.

Once the two Legionaries had left the room, the steward bot trundled back into the room and filled the crystal tumblers with an oily liquid. Meeshan stared briefly in open distaste at the liquid, quickly shifting his expression to a more neutral one. Blacktip, meanwhile, took a long sip of his drink, quietly trying to relish the mild taste of the Tenpass - an old Southern Nauticus word that loosely translated into Basic as shrimp piss. There was no way he was serving up s'ryn for this meeting, nor any of his Panzarian whisky, and the ship's home brewed ale, Eclipse Fire was certainly off the menu. Had it been Lieutenant Commander Azparonn, Meeshan's XO, s'ryn would have been the drink of the day. Meeshan, however, was not Azparonn, so he got the lackluster Tenpass, perfectly brewed in a bucket and bellows set-up behind sublight drive four to be both mediocre, but with just enough satisfaction to not outright insult any guests.

The steward bot hurried out of the way, narrowly avoiding being kicked by the seething form of Captain Umber as she stormed into the wardroom. The Nymexian Dragoness, dressed in her shipsuit - a basic black and green tunic, trousers and flexible but tough clawboots - came to a halt at the edge of the table, wings trembling in anger, her barbed tail thrashing. Smoke coiled from her nostrils and her bright violet eyes were aglow with promised violence. The black Dragon swept the accumulated figures with her glare. She jabbed a clawed finger at Meeshan and bared her teeth at him.

'Captain...' Blacktip murmered softly, a hard warning underscoring his tone.

'I will have your head worm.' She hissed, ignoring Blacktip.

'Will you really?' Meeshan replied blandly, settling comfortably into his chair.

'My engineering crew will not go unavenged! I will paint my ship with the blood of your family!' She roared, sparks of dark fire spitting into the air.

'Captain Umber! You will sit down and explain yourself!' Blacktip snapped, glaring hard at her.

The Shadow Dragon turned her glare on him, then quickly reigned her temper in as best she could. She stalked around the table and sat down heavily in the chair beside JD, taking a long pull of the Tenpass before depositing a datachip on the table before her.

'Are all Nymexians so.... Bellicose?' Meeshan asked, casting a sidelong look at Umber.

'Only if you piss them off enough.' JD said, fighting the urge to fidget uncomfortably now that he was effectively sandwiched between two exhausted, ill-tempered Shadow Dragons.

Those Dragons who were born to the Shadow Vales or the Violet Gulch on Nymex were quite often regarded as bad omens by their brethren, as their magic - born of shadows and the void - was considered far too destructive and wild, even by the standards of those born to the Firelands. The magic they wove, they also wore like a cloak, exuding a dark, unsettling aura whenever they got agitated enough.

And Captain Umber was one of the most agitated people in the galaxy right now, and her power was seeking to couple with that wielded by fellow Shadow Dragon, Lieutenant Commander Darksong.

Thank God that Shadow isn't here, it'd turn into chaos for sure. He thought in annoyance as he lost the battle to sit still. Two Shadow Dragons in one room was a powder keg waiting for a spark. Three was a living, breathing nightmare.

'Would you care to explain, Captain Umber?' Darksong asked sweetly.

Umber turned to look Meeshan dead in the eye as she spoke. 'Whilst we were making best speed for our offensive launch point in a low orbit of Hadras's moon, we were struck by a trio of missiles. Our shields absorbed most of the impact, but that third one struck metal and shook some important things loose in engineering. Important things such as slipdrive coolant conduits and an auxiliary CPU node that controls the emergency shut-down of the sublights. It was held in check and the damage was very much repairable with our shipboard supplies, but a lot of good people still died. However, when we tracked the trajectory of the missiles, we discovered that not one of them came from a Lishni ship. This was further confirmed when our new Chief Engineer Biggs pulled a sizable chunk of missile casing from our hull when he and a team went out to inspect it for any exterior damage our computer may have missed. The scrap was enough to tell us that we were struck by a Candaran Lighthawk mark-3 missile. One of your newest homing missiles. We checked the remains of the circuits, Admiral. It was tracking and registering IDCs just fine.'

A dead silence filled the room as everyone's attention turned to Meeshan.

'Preposterous!' He said. 'You're seriously trying to tell me that I, or one of mine, fired on you?'

'Yes!' She hissed, tail lashing against the floor.

'Is it at all possible that the Lishni forces stole from you at some point?' JD asked, struggling to ignore the icy glare that Umber was now burning into the side of his head.

He liked Admiral Meeshan as much as Umber did, but at such a turning point in the mission - payday - he did not want to jump to conclusions. Thankfully, Meeshan spluttered indignantly, saving JD a trip to an EHP for treatment for severe, full-body burns. Fire demon or not, Umber's fire rivalled his own fire, and having her set his tail alight was not on his To-Do List.

'Lishni? Stealing from us?' He scoffed, 'Candaran security is far too tight to allow such vagabonds even a chance at laying a finger on even the most flavourless nutrient bar in our pantry! A thieving Lishni stealing some of our high-end missiles is laughable!'

Don't mention their hijacked frigate... Don't mention their hijacked frigate...

'Well someone fired them!' Umber snapped.

'Captain Umber, please. Rest assured, there will be a full investigation into the incident, but for now what's done is done. Now remain silent or take your leave.' Blacktip said firmly.

'Is that information logged in your BR, Captain?' Darksong asked.

Umber nodded. 'It is, along with photographic evidence. I have made multiple copies, the master copy of which, is staying with my legal team.'

'Excellent. Very good.' The other Shadow Dragon purred with a slight nod of approval as she made notes on her datapad.

'Admiral Meeshan, we are here to discuss the closing portion of our contract. As our client, your are aware that we are unable to let you go back to your ship until payment in full is acquired-'

'You have already been paid.' Meeshan interrupted.

'That was a down-payment for our services. It's all there in the contract, which you read and signed.' JD pointed out flatly.

'Thank you, Captain D'armeus. As I was saying, that was your down-payment. Your deposit, yes? It was agreed upon during our meeting with your government representative and Secretary of Defense that, and I quote: 'No matter the outcome of the operation, completion of payment will be made in full, no excuses. Failure to make full payment will result in the arrest and trial of task force leader Admiral Grach Sarlin Meeshan.' That was something your Sec Def added under the watchful eyes of lawyers from both our side and yours. So, Admiral. How would you like to pay? Digital transfer or cold, hard cash?'

Meeshan went pale. Then he went through varying shades of red and into the realm of purple.

'How dare you demand money after your lackluster performance! You utter pirates! You didn't even complete the mission! You were of no use to us at all!' He jabbed a finger at both JD and Umber, 'And you two! Skulking behind the moon like cowards as we were slaughtered by the dozen! Shame on you all! You're not soldiers, you're just cowards in uniform! If you think threats of a court martial will make me pay up for such an abysmal performance, you're deluded right down to the core!'

JD felt his backside lift a few inches from his seat, his fists balled on the table top as his anger finally rose to the surface. Every muscle in his body tensed as he fought the urge to spring across the table and take Meeshan by the throat with one hand, and beat him senseless with the other. Instead, he hissed at him, baring his fangs,the smoldering coals of his irises flaring a violent red within the obsidian of the sclera. Sparks floated from the intricate runes carved into his coiling, black horns, like angry fireflies and his words came out in a low, two-toned growl.

'We are no cowards, Admiral. We have proven that time and again during the course of this contract. If you refuse payment, I have no doubt that your rank will be on the line as well as your honor and your head. This ship suffered heavy losses because of your inability to perform as a leader.'

Meeshan glared at JD, 'You speak of honor, Demon? Where was your honor when the Lishni moved in to slaughter us like sacrificial animals on the eve of the new year? I'll tell you where: Hiding, like the courage you so claim to have! I refuse to pay your ridiculous fee for such an atrocious outcome and inability to follow orders!'

Meeshan rose from his chair and his guard fell in beside him. Anusi shifted from one foot to the other, watching the Candaran prepare to leave. He glanced at JD, then at Blacktip, who gave a subtle shake of his head. Not yet.

'Admiral Meeshan, the contract stands. If you attempt to leave this room without payment, then you will be arrested.' Blacktip stated with a calm that only served to underscore his anger.

Meeshan clucked something in his own tongue, glaring at the assembled Shadow Stalkers.

'You wouldn't dare. You'd be made a laughing stock among your peers and no one would hire you for a very, very long time! My dear boy, you truly have no idea who you're messing with, do you? I am the Third Son of the Ruby Star, Holder of the Scrolls of Advent and Heir to the Symbiote of Narshall'vek. I have planetary holdings in five_systems, and a major share in the biotech departments of VanceTech. Arrest me, and I will make your lives _very hard.'

'Legionaries, arrest him for non-payment of services and breaching the terms of a Sovereign Candaran and Galactic Council Oath of Contract.' Blacktip said, leaning back in his chair. A small, but smug smile played his lips as he watched the armoured figures snap to attention.

A pair of Legionaries in full battle armour, with combat rifles secured at their backs stepped forward from their corners. Both Legionaries were twice the size of Meeshan, and JD cocked his head, trying to figure out their species. They stalked around the table, surprisingly nimble and light-footed for their size, and gently swatted Meeshan's body guard aside as he tried to intervene and arrested the stunned Candaran. His body guard was also held, Anusi stepping foward and pulling the alien off to one side, murmering something to him to still him.

'You dare-'

'I dare.' Blacktip interrupted deadpan, his smile dropping away. 'We were gathered for a perfectly grown-up discussion about the whys and wherefores of the last battle, assuming it can be called that and not a total cluster fuck. Instead, you come here, boarding my ship loaded to the eyeballs with ire and self-pretentious nonsesense that has no place in a meeting of military standards. I do not care about your nobility unless it can greatly benefit our manoeuvres and help us achieve victory. However, since not one ounce of you noble status among your people has served to help, I choose to ignore it unless necessary. You will be court martialled, whereupon, among other things, your behaviour as a leader will be called into question as well as why some of your newest weapons ended up damaging an allied ship and killing some of its crew.' Meeshan opened his mouth, but his words stalled, dying on his thin lips when Blacktip held up a webbed hand to silence him. 'You think you have loopholes you can use to your benefit in this contract, but you don't. I made sure of that, as did others. We are always looking for ways to improve the security of our contracts, whilst leaving them fair to our clients. I advise you, Meeshan, as that is my role, that you put aside your bluster and stick to protocol. That way, things will go a lot better for you in the long run. Sergeant, Corporal? Take him to the brig and don't release him until either he's paid up or until we've made it back to Impart Station.'

The two nodded and escorted Meeshan out of the wardroom.

'What about his guard, Sir?' Anusi asked.

Blacktip looked at the floundering Candaran. He almost pitied him. 'Go back to your ship and let your Executive Officer know what's happening. If he's read the contract, he'll understand. If he's not, then I suggest he does read it before any more trouble is had. Dismissed.'

They watched Anusi escort the guard out of the room. The moment the doors slid closed, Blacktip pushed back his chair and heaved a deep sigh, entwining his fingers across his stomach. He looked to Darksong, then to JD and Umber.

'It's been a very long day and an even longer week. I feel your frustration, I really do, but in future, try a little harder to reign your tempers in or you'll be next on the court martial list. You're both very good captains and I really don't want to see you disgraced and replaced.'

JD ground his teeth together in frustration and forced himself to settle back in his chair, counting backwards from ten, inhaling on one second, exhaling on the next. He rubbed at his temples. There was a headache building that was more than just paperwork related.

'I'd rather be court martialled for bad behaviour than be kicked off the Jinx for yet another non-payment. The fourth one in a row, no less. Shit.' He groaned in annoyance.

'He's too proud to allow himself to be court martialled.' Umber grunted thoughtfully after a moment, leaning her elbows on the table. She spun the small box containing her battle report - BR for short - around in circles on the polished surface with the clawtip of her forefinger. 'I'd put money on him wriggling out of it by either declaring something medical or demanding a challenge.'

'He could opt for the Rite of Shattering. It's the only GC sanctioned way of breaking a contract without dimishing your status in any way. Assuming the declarer wins, that is.' Darksong said thougthfully.

'With the Rite of Shattering, if he issues the challenge, he gets to set the combat rules and choose who he fights, right?' JD asked. It had been a while since he had come across anyone issuing that particular challenge. It was usually the Rite of Possession that was once-every-so-often called into play and that was generally between those who handled cargo and those who preferred the life of a scavenger. The Rite of Shattering, as it had become known over the years, was the only legal and honour-bound way to break a contract without damaging your reputation too badly. Assuming the challenger won, that is. If the challenger lost, then the contract remained intact.

And there was only one shot at issuing the Rite of Shattering.

'Correct. Though the challenge also conforms to the challenger's own beliefs. If Meeshan were to challenge one of us, it would either be Captain Blacktip or yourself. Not me or Captain Umber, since the Candarans don't allow their females to fight.' She replied.

'Out of curiosity, if he did challenge you or Umber, what would happen if you beat him?'

'Well, with us being female, it would be a massive dishonour that would spread throughout his family, both past, present and future. He would have no choice but to exile himself with as much dignity and as little fuss as possible. After that, I guess his ego wouldn't be able to take it, so I assume, he'd commit suicide.' She shrugged.

'I want you two to hang around for the rest of the day, see what happens with Meeshan. Feel free to make use of the ships' facilities. Or at least, what's left of them. I'll let you know if he has anything else to add. In the meantime, I would like to catch up on some paper work.' Blacktip said, rising from his chair.

'You got somewhere where I can crash for a couple of hours? I'm running on nothing but anger, a sugar tablet and s'ryn.' JD asked.

'The Admiral's suite is free. You can use that.' He replied as he gathered up the BR chips and exited the wardroom, Darksong following suit.

'I need to go make some calls.' Umber said and excused herself.

JD watched her go, staring at the closed door once she had left. If Meeshan didn't pay up, he was screwed. He would be relieved as captain of the Jinx and be placed in charge of a refueling tender or scrap scow. If he was lucky. If he was really un-lucky, the non-payment would see him removed from the Shadow Stalkers altogether and labelled as a financial liability. He swore. In the 100 years since the Shadow Stalkers Military Assistance Group had been in existence, only two other captains had been let go for their inability to perform their duty and acquire payment. One of those two captains, JD knew, had failed to secure payment fifteen times in a row. The other, failed seven times. And both cases read as a mixture of bad luck, terrible clients and one recorded case of incompetence on the mercenary's side of things. So far JD had landed 3 bad clients in a row, one of which refused to pay up, leaving JD trying to spread the deposit - always used for ship maintenance and re-supply - across the crew as some form of payment for their services. He had had to dip into his life savings to try and cover the rest, something which he still had not admitted to anyone. The other two had been a three week argument that resulted in only half the payment being agreed upon.

He was desperate to keep his place as captain of the Jinx, not because he saw Spirit as un-prepared for the role of captain, but because he had seen the list of nominees for the would-be Executive Officers of the Jinx. The only one that appealed to him was a T'rayke. A wasp called Sid Locane, who currently served aboard the Jinx as Spirit's right-hand man. However, being the nominal third-in-command did not guarantee a promotion to Executive Officer when the heirachy shifted. There was someone sitting in high command somewhere that had shown a great deal of disdain for JD recently: Vice Admiral N'kat Osharra, a Jes'wan with a set of solid religious beliefs and therefore, a serious grudge against demons or anything remotely demonic.

All of JD's orders had been signed by Admiral Osharra and because of that, that also meant that any contract that came out of those orders had to be approved and co-signed by him, too. Osharra was certainly trying to make the Jinx live up to her name whilst JD and his crew was desperately trying to turn that around.

Stifling a yawn, he pushed those thoughts to one side. He would be raising his concerns about Admiral Osharra when they made it to Impart Station. Blacktip and Umber already knew his concerns, as did Captains Vurten and Nishall, who captained the Jinx's and Reaper's sister ships the Huntress and the Carrion, respectively. The four ships often found themselves working together during the much larger contracts and they made a formidable quartet. He rose from his seat and made his way to the Admiral's Suite, dropping a message into Tristan and Anusi's squad inboxes telling them what was happening. Palming the door controls to the suite, he padded into the darkened room, slumped heavily into the armchair and stayed there.

The pick-me-up that Doctor Nalen had given him was wearing off sooner than he had hoped.