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Blaze of Glory

Chapter 3: A Warm and Heartfelt Reception

"Hello, Amber." said the man who was awaiting the trio as the door opened. He was dressed in a smart, grey, button-up dress shirt and a pair of brown pants that were held up by a thick belt not dissimilar to the one that Stacy usually wore aboard her ship. He had a dark pair of polarized sunglasses on covering his eyes and an earpiece protruded from his left ear. The man's black hair was cut short and his mouth was drawn in an almost-sincere smile. "It is Amber, this time, right?"

"Hello, Ryan." Stacy frowned as she stepped out of the monorail. Trax and Rhajir took up positions behind her as the monorail doors slid shut with a short warning chime. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Just a checkup." the man shrugged as he looked vacantly around the room that they were in. It was a large open hall with several monorail access tubules lining the smooth circumference. The ceiling was high and covered in the glass that was such a main feature to the spaceport. Three large trees took up the middle of the space, a decorative waterfall gurgling between them and making a small oasis of nature in the man-made structure. A ring of tables and chairs surrounded the wide atrium and a small coffee shop was tucked into the wall on the far side, the smell of the rejuvenating brown liquid filling the air. It was also bustling with activity, with people from all walks of life going about their business. If he had wanted to trap her, here would hardly be the place. So what was he really doing waiting for them?

"I'm not two anymore, Ryan. I don't need anybody checking in on me every five minutes." She tried to sound nonchalant but had to fight to keep her anger in check.

"That's funny," said the man with a smirk, "because I don't think Erebus thinks the same thing."

So there IS something more to this then... Stacy thought. "Oh really? Well, you can go back and tell him that he'll have his cut when I'm done."

"You know," began Ryan as he turned to look out the window to see a large cargo hauler touch down a hundred metres distant, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say that he likes you. Anybody else in your position would have been dead several times over."

"Maybe it's just that I get results." spat Stacy through clenched teeth. "Unlike some idiots that are on his pay grade."

The man just laughed and turned to look at her. "I didn't come here to fight. Lord knows you'd kick my ass. Well, maybe not you. But your friends would." Trax growled, a rumbling sound that vibrated deep in his throat. He took a step forward, his loyalty touching Stacy, but she held out a hand and forestalled him. The wolf morph drew up short and halted his advance, but his eyes stayed focused on the cocky agent.

"Then why did you come here?" she asked, her patience wearing thin.

"Just to talk." he said as he sat down on one of the benches. He patted the seat next to him in a 'sit down' gesture. Stacy glowered at him for a moment, still not quite sure of his intentions. He raised an eyebrow. She sighed and sat down on the wooden bench, tucking her tail up close to her. "Erebus is getting impatient."

"I could guess as much." she hissed.

"I'm not your enemy here, Stacy, you know that. There are bigger fish to fry." Ryan said as he clasped his hands together. Despite the reassurance, Stacy didn't even feel even remotely more comfortable. Ryan continued. "He wants to know how your little project is coming along."

"It's coming." she said flatly.

"Cut the bullshit, Stace. We both know that your progress has been halted." Stacy was shocked. She knew that, certainly, but how did he? Ryan must have seen the look of surprise that flickered across her face, because he laughed again. "I have my ways of knowing everything." he laughed as he opened his arms in an all-encompassing gesture.

Stacy watched the people in the atrium for a moment, trying to appear unfazed. In reality, she was trying to figure out how he may have gotten access to her files. Some people stood out in the crowd. A father was pulling his kid along trying to hurry to catch a shuttle that was probably going to leave in the next few minutes and was more than likely on the far side of the spaceport. Over by the coffee shop a small huddle of chakats were placingan order, which was, judging by the look on the cashiers face, incredibly large and very specific. Stacy thought that she saw a foxtaur or two on the far side, but they disappeared behind a crowd of humans that were busy greeting some relative they obviously hadn't seen in a long time. A small group of mixed children, about a dozen or so, surrounded by baggage, foreign tags placing their origin at Chakona, were fooling around near the trees and were obviously incredibly bored. Even as she watched, one of them, a rabbit fur, got pushed into the waterfall by a kangaroo morph and two spaceport security personnel that had been leaning up against the wall went over to stop the roughhousing.

"You're right." she said carefully after a short amount of time. "I am momentarily halted. The list of proposed crew has proven to be... useless."

"It helps when you don't blow up their ships." jabbed Ryan.

Well, she had only destroyed five ships on her search, one of which was the Sanctioned Deliverance. It was the most recent, and in her opinion, most time-consuming and downright boring. She had pulled some strings for there to be both a gravity mine and high-yield explosive loaded next to the craft's primary plasma conduit. It was then just a matter of playing follow the leader and showing up to clean up the mess.

The first incident had been a ship in the process of being raided by a gang of slavers. Knowing full well that the person she had been after had probably been the inside-man for the dastardly job, she had outright crossed him off of her list. She had no time for slavers, even if they could potentially help her. She had then made quite the show of the Breath's main battery, severing the docking clamps that held the two ships together with a short burst of searing energy from the phaser lance. Sure the slaver ship ended up losing its aft section as she 'accidentally' hit it with another shot, but she didn't really care. Last she had heard, Star Fleet had managed to turn up just as the crippled remains of both craft were starting to get dangerously low on power and pulled them from the fire. She had been long gone by then of course, not wanting to spend a moment in the spotlight of righteousness before a good few life sentences behind the bars of 'justice'. She was still a criminal, after all. Saving a few didn't even come close to making up for her far more numerous misdeeds.

The third had been when a meeting had turned into a trap in the halo (the asteroid belt, in layman's terms) of a system near the Eradni gulf, the raider craft that had pounced on her not being fussy about who they were attacking. Credits are credits, after all. The Breath had still been using the Winter's Touch guise at the time, and had been caught off-guard. Well, at least the raiders had thought so. Stacy had decided to toy with them, even letting them dock with her ship. A quick venting of the primary hangar bay had provided just the thrust that she had needed to effectively crunch the parasitic craft between her and a nearby asteroid. By then the second ship had realized what was happening and opened fire. It didn't get far, the pair of fighters from the Breath having been launched earlier to drift about in halo until Stacy gave them the all-clear to engage the remaining ship. A few high-yield warheads were enough to gut the small craft.

It turned out that the asteroid-wrecked ship had been the one with her 'proposed crew member' on it, but he had spat at her offer and even attempted to shoot her as she boarded his craft. Apparently, losing his little gang of comrades to her was bad enough, never mind working for her. He didn't even think twice as Stacy slowly started venting the atmosphere from the room she had him sealed in. She had respected him a bit more for that, but not enough to spare his life.

The final one was... more of an accident. She had taken up the disguise as a rich and flamboyant heiress on a cruise upon one of the Canaris Line sloops. She had actually been enjoying herself before her 'proposed crew member' started hitting on her. There was only so much boot-licking she could take, and had him framed for a small theft of a necklace which got him confined to quarters until a nearby 'Fleet vessel could transport him away for processing. That had bought her some much-needed relaxation time, but it wasn't to last. He had escaped (the man's raw martial talent being more than enough to overwhelm the lone security guard posted outside of his door) and had chased Stacy (well, they were both trying to kill each other, so 'fought' may be a better word than 'chased') in a fit of rage to the engineering decks. A stray round from the man's phaser had made short work of a primary fuel line and himself, his body having turned practically to ash by the resulting gout of fire. Stacy had barely managed to make it to an escape pod with a handful of random people before the entire sloop went up in a hellish explosion. She was grateful for the minibar aboard the pod, as it otherwise would have been a far longer trip. If she never heard another chakat kitten cry, it would be too soon.

"It helps when they WANT to do what I'm planning." she shot back. "Erebus doesn't seem to understand that."

"Well, all I'm going to say is that you'd better find some people who are willing to help you. Otherwise..." He let it hang.

"I know." she said. "Just tell him I need some more time."

"I'll tell him. But it's for him to decide, not me." Ryan said vaguely as he stood up. He looked around her and then to her waiting guards who were staring at him with masks of barely contained hatred. "Where is the device, anyways?"

"It's safe and sound aboard the-" she was interrupted by the monorail doors opening off to her left and the jackal fur from the reception desk emerging with her bag in-hand. Oh shit, she thought, there goes my cover...

She stood up quickly. Please don't let him see me...

"Ma'am!" he cried as he saw her, "you forgot your bag!"

Damn it all!

"Safe and sound?" sneered Ryan as he looked at the fur heading towards them with contempt.

"Yeah... er.. Hold on." She quickly closed the distance in between her and Eric, giving the occasional shifty glance over her shoulder to make sure that Ryan didn't go anywhere. She doubted he would. At least not until he'd gotten the final word in. "Er- Hello again Eric. Thank you for bringing me my bag."

"No problem." he shrugged, "I just thought you might want it back." Stacy went to grab her bag and hopefully shoo him on his merry way, but he pulled it back playfully.

"Hey," he grinned, "not so fast. What do I get in return?"

Stacy drew a blank. Oh, you've got to be kidding me! "Uh... What did you want?" she asked, her tail as still as a rock and black-tipped ears slightly turned back.

"How about a kiss?" he said as he tucked her bag behind his back. He closed his eyes and leaned forwards.

I don't have time for this. Stacy reached up and wrapped a hand behind his neck. He raised an eyebrow blissfully as she hugged up to him, her body contouring to his body. "Hmm.. Like this?" she asked innocently.

"Sure, that's perfect..."

"Too bad I like it a little rough then, isn't it?" she said as she pressed her knife up to his gut, just barely poking him in the stomach with its sharp point. He pulled back as he realized that something was wrong, but Stacy held him tight and stopped him from fidgeting. To anyone else watching it would look as if they were simply sharing a tender hug (which some people did, in fact, think was what was happening). Stacy had the jackal fur in quite the situation.

"Ah, hey! Mrs. Vaille - I didn't mean anything by it!" he stammered quietly and in a nervous voice.

"Hush! Quiet down! Just give me my bag, and I'll let you go." she whispered directly in his ear. "Got it?"

He was starting to hyperventilate now, and his breathing was rapid and shallow. His brown eyes were open again, and looking around frantically. "Yeah, sure, got it!" Eric replied as he nodded his head slightly but energetically. Eric brought her bag out from behind his back and offered it to her. His hand was shaking.

"Good boy." she said as she patted him playfully on the cheek with her free hand before taking her kitbag. "Now run along." She released the scared fur and he instantly took a step back. He then headed quickly back towards the monorail that headed back towards his job station. Eric hit the 'call' button and stood there awkwardly. Apparently the monorail had been recalled a few short seconds before, and he was doomed to stand there practically scared out of his mind for a few more minutes. Stacy smiled smugly and turned back to Ryan. "Yes, the device is safe aboard the Breath." she lied.

"I'm sure." said Ryan as he shook his head. He was harder to fool than most people, and she knew that he realized what had happened. She didn't care though.

"Are we done here?" asked Stacy as she secreted her knife back under her shirt and into the concealed sheath that she had had sewn into it. Nobody else in the atrium seemed to notice the short exchange that had just happened, or rather the importance of it, and Ryan didn't care.

"Yes, I believe we are." Ryan said with finality. "We'll be in touch." At that he strode off, no doubt to pester somebody else. Stacy watched him go as she sat back down on the bench. She propped the bag up on her lap and unzipped it. She rummaged around inside of it before she felt the smooth edges of the alien sphere and a psychological weight detached itself from around her neck and fell to the floor. Stacy did the bag back up and secured it around her shoulders, tightening the straps so that there was no chance of it even budging from where it was set on her body.

"That was eventful." said Rhajir with the understatement of the century. "So Erebus is getting impatient now? I wonder why."

"Why does Erebus do anything?" sighed Stacy. "Greed."

Ambition was the flaw of many a man, and Erebus, for all his apparent and vaunted knowledge and foresight, was very ambitious. Apparently, being the leader of a shadowy organization with resources of ridiculous size and scope only helped to increase the hunger for more power.

"Yes, but it is not like him to be that bold." thought the tiger fur aloud. "His methods are usually far more more... subtle."

Trax made a noncommittal grunt of agreement. Even he knew that that had been out of the ordinary.

Stacy thought it over for a second. What Rhajir had said was true. It was far from characteristic of Erebus to make such an open show of impatience. He usually resorted to sending small, almost meaningless, messages to be dropped off at inconspicuous locations that he afterwards told her to check, not sending his direct subordinate to meet her in person. Something else must be going on. Something else that Stacy had never thought possible. Surely it couldn't be? No, it had to be; there was no other explanation.

"Somebody must be squeezing him." she replied as she leaned forwards and wove her fingers into a contemplative state. "He needs results just as much as we do."

"Who would squeeze Erebus? Not even Morris is that stupid, never mind that powerful." said Rhajir, the very concept of somebody being able to perpetrate such an act dumbfounding to him.

"I don't know." admitted Stacy.

The monorail 'ding-ed' as the doors opened again, and Stacy looked over to see how fast the jackal morph could move his metaphorically-beaten hide into the sanctuary that it provided. The motion of self-indulgence saved her life.

"Oh crap!" she hissed as four people dressed in dark clothing strode purposefully out of the monorail and fanning out in an evenly-spaced line. There was no doubt that they were here to cause trouble. Ten points for guessing who they are trying to make trouble for...

The leader saw her, and pointed in her direction. He said something into a comm at his collar and the others all turned about to face Stacy and her escort. "Get down!" she cried just as the first man pulled the phaser rifle that had previously been held loosely in one arm to his shoulder, his eye going quickly to the sight mounted atop it.

Two of the three phasers they were carrying, the one the leader held included, began to spit deadly bolts of energy in their direction while the last one turned to take out one of the security guards. The guard was a middle-aged man that had eaten more than his fill of cake over the years, and fell over backwards as the first rounds hit him full in the chest and worked their way through flesh and bone to eventually pulverize his heart and incinerate his lungs.

The security guard's partner kicked over one of the tables, throwing two of the children behind it in an effort to protect them from the lethal rain that the fourth member of the hit squad brought about with an old-style support gun. The poor feline morph never got to see if her improvised cover system worked as small fountains of blood rippled across her chest, sprouting from her like roses in spring. She fell up and over the small rock barrier and into the man-made pond with a splash. Her bright blood started to turn the water a dreadful pink.

Stacy dove headlong behind a small counter off to the right of where she had been sitting, It was a condiment station where toppings, utensils, napkins, and the like were kept for the coffee shop and it looked sturdy enough to survive a few heavy shots. She landed on her butt, sliding a bit, before she managed to scramble backwards so that her back was pressed against the cool metal exterior of the counter. Trax followed her doggedly, sliding a bit more gracefully into cover in comparison to her hasty dash for safety. His hold-out pistol that he had secreted away in his kitbag was in-hand, and he peered around the corner of their barricade to snap a few shots off in the direction that the incoming fire was sprouting. Rhajir had managed to push over the bench that Stacy and Ryan had been sitting on, but it was hardly helping. He was too large to hide behind it effectively so he had to go on the offence, hoping to halt any incoming shots by way of suppressing fire from his own weapon.

Stacy reached into a side pouch on her bag and found her pistol, stowed as she had remembered it had been in the protective lining of the bag surrounded in a small scanner deflection bubble. She clicked of the safety, the weapon perfectly fitted to her hand and already loaded, before standing up.

What she saw as her eyes crested the counter top amounted only to chaos. Several people, thankfully none of which were children, were lying about in messy heaps on the stone floor and quickly leaking growing pools of blood from their wounds. The kids from Chakona were tucked in behind several chairs and tables trying their best to stay out of sight of the armed gunmen, several screaming and more than a few crying out for their parents. Stacy knew that the hit squad wasn't after them and her rage only compounded at the thought of such wanton death, fear, and destruction. The chakats had all made it away safely, having been on the other side of the atrium when the shooting started, along with the majority of the rest of the people that had been present before the shooting had begun. The cashier was nowhere to be seen and the father and child had long since disappeared. There was also no sign of any more spaceport security, a fact that troubled Stacy to no end.

She pushed the feeling away and instead focused on staying alive. She lined up one of the gunmen, a young Hispanic male who almost looked as if he could be a marine, and pulled the trigger. Her pistol wasn't any energy weapon; it was an old-pattern bullet and casing affair. And it was loud. The gun bucked in her hand and the blaring bark of the gunshot was rivalled only by the support weapon firing on full-auto.

Her shot hit the man in the neck and he fell over like a sack of bricks, toppling over a chair and scattering the fries and soft drink that had been on it. The others were unfazed and didn't even look in their fallen comrade's location, simply firing at her and making Stacy duck behind the counter again.

Stacy's kill wasn't a complete waste, though, as it had bought Rhajir enough time to gun down another of the squad, this one a young female Caitian. She fell back behind the decorative plant she had been using as cover and out of sight. The kill also confirmed what she had thought; they hadn't thought about carrying personal shields with them. She imagined that if they had, she would have been in even worse trouble than what she was currently in.

The remaining two didn't seem keen on offering them any more chances and began to close in, leapfrogging past each other so that there was always one of them left suppressing Stacy and her bodyguards while the other advanced. The pace was slow, but it was indomitable. In another couple dozen seconds, Stacy knew that she would be in serious trouble.

"They're moving up!" shouted Trax as he snapped off a few more shots.

"I can see that, thank you!" shouted Stacy sarcastically as she peered around the side of the counter. "Move right; try and flank them!"

"On it, ma'am!" said the wolf fur as he performed a flawless combat roll out of cover and lunging behind the stone lip of the pond. The children clustered behind the improvised barricade in front of it jumped and several screamed, but Trax ignored them and moved around the small pond's circumference to try and get a better angle on their attackers.

The two left, a human male that hefted the automatic firearm and a skinny fox that still held onto his phaser rifle, shifted some of their fire his way and Stacy knew that she had made a bad call. Now the children were coming under fire. They shrieked as they huddled in behind their ad-hoc barriers, but none of them had been hit yet. No. There's a limit.

Stacy sprang up again and loosed a few more shots. They spanked off of a metal garbage can that the fur was hiding behind to little effect. "I'm over here, assholes!" she snarled at them in an effort to draw their fire.

It worked. They both started shooting at her, the air above their gun barrels wavered from heat distortion as they unleashed a new torrent of superheated air and hot lead at her. She ducked again. She felt the vibrations through the counter and could smell the scent of ozone that accompanied the discharge of an energy weapon.

"Trax!" she shouted over the din of the fight.

"Ma'am?" came the reply. It was punctuated by a burst from his phaser on full-auto.

"Get those kids out of here! Rhaj, covering fire!" She popped up again, her pistol blowing hefty chunks out of a white table that the man with the support weapon had knocked over. Rhajir managed to get the fox to hold back behind the can again, effectively staunching the amount of incoming fire. At least for the moment. "Trax! Go!"

"Yes ma'am!" barked the large morph as he started directing the children out of the atrium and towards one of the monorail entrances that had just whooshed open. The children were reluctant to follow him, but soon realized that they were far more reluctant to sit around waiting to get shot. They hurried after the towering morph as he ushered them towards safety. He shoved the young couple that had been about to emerge from the monorail backwards into the trolley and started herding the kids aboard. The couple looked around in shock before the gravity of the situation became known to them. The woman screamed, but it was cut off as Trax slammed his fist down on the interior console and the grey doors sealed shut.

Stacy was once more thrown back into cover as the man came back around, his heavy weapon spitting death at her and many of the high-calibre shots clashed against her rapidly-disintegrating haven. Several others went overhead to break chunks of white masonry from the walls, clouds of pulverized stone spraying outwards from the impacts. She heard him curse as the gun jammed. Before he could clear the breech, she had slotted him in between the eyes with the final round from her pistol. He fell with a the upper half of his head blown clear off, the brain matter, skull fragments, and tissue spraying out behind him in a grisly show of devastation.

"Out!" she called as she ducked just in time to save her own head from the same fate. The fox fur cursed and hid behind the trashcan again from where he had almost had a clear shot.

"Mine's starting to run dry, too." said Rhajir. "I only have a few shots left."

"Make them count." Stacy hissed.

The red-furred fox morph must have been getting nervous at that point. He was firing freely at both of them and the shots were quickly becoming sporadic and highly inaccurate. All Rhajir had to do was line up a decent shot, and the fight would be over. Then, suddenly, the shooting stopped. That's odd... I didn't hear Rhaj fire...

Stacy risked a peek up over the lip of the now-battered counter. What she saw this time both amazed and confused her. The fox morph was being held in a tight grip by the jackal fur that had given her her bag back, and both figures were struggling to wrest control of the gun from the other in a lethal dance. They fell over onto the ground and tussled about in a bundle of swinging fists, hard elbows, curses, and grunts.

Without thinking, Stacy slipped out of cover and ran forwards, drawing her wicked knife and hastily pocketing her pistol as she went. She lunged over several fallen chairs and managed to reach the two struggling furs. It wasn't looking good for Eric. He was pinned beneath the fox, who had the gun barrel mere centimetres away from his head and was in full control of the trigger. Eric was starting to show signs of fatigue, his arms shaking with the effort of keeping the gun just out of his face. The small scuffle would be over in seconds if she didn't intervene. She quickly flipped her dark-bladed knife over in her right hand so that the blade was pointing away from her thumb and threw her arm downwards, putting as much strength as calculated precision into her blow.

The fox morph let out a strangled cry as the knife found its way into the back his neck, the keen blade grating against the bones of his spine with sickening crunching noises. Crimson blood began to seep into his fur and a fair amount of it was ending up all over both Eric's face and Stacy's hands. Eric spat as Stacy hauled the dying hit man up by the back of his collar, her white fur absorbing some of the blood. With a grunt of effort she tossed him aside while wrenching her knife free in a plume of red blood.

The fur hit the ground hard, his choking sobs slowly ceasing as death claimed him. Stacy shook her head and kneeled down over the body. She wiped her blade on the black pants that the red-furred assailant wore, making the word Nevermore once again gleam in the sunlight that still came through the windows. She tucked the knife away and offered her hand to Eric. "That was rash." she said in a stern tone.

"It was the right thing to do." he gasped as he took her hand in his and she hauled him upright. His uniform was wrecked and stained now, making him appear more battle scarred than he actually was. There was no emotion in his eyes and she knew what that meant. Shock.

"Well, I'm glad you saw it that way." she coughed. Rhajir moved towards them, stopping only to double-tap one of their attackers who was still moving with a shot to the skull.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" he asked as he took up a position behind her.

"Fine, thank you." she replied.

"Who are you?"

The question caught Stacy completely off guard. She hesitated for a good few seconds before replying to the jackal's query. No use hiding the truth now, she thought. "I am Captain Stacy Smith of the Dying Breath." she said with a small amount of pride edging its way into her voice.

"Wait... You're Captain Smith? THE Captain Smith?" asked Eric as he managed to stand up. "As in the pirate?" His eyes were wide and he looked as if he had just bitten into a strawberry tart that he had been told belonged to the raspberry variety.

"I suppose I would be the one you're thinking of, yes." she said. She smiled as his eyes grew even wider. Stacy was oddly flattered that he knew of her, even despite the fact that he had called her a pirate. Pirates were infamous, sure, but most came and went before they developed any kind of serious media attention. And Stacy had been careful with her actions to avoid being cast into the spotlight, succeeding for the most part. How he knew about her then, Stacy would have to figure out later. For now, it was time to start beating a hasty retreat. She patted her side where her knife was holstered secretly and threw her pistol into her kitbag.

"Oh frack! What the hell did I get myself into?!" stammered the fur as his brain finally began to process what had just happened. He looked around vacantly as the sound of alarm bells began to sound from one of the hallways.

"Ma'am," urged Rhajir, "we'd better go! They'll be all over us in an instant."

"One second." she said. Something had caught her eye on the body of the man that she had just stabbed. She reached down and withdrew a small handheld device from one of the plethora of pockets that the fur's vest had been lined with. It was, if she guessed correctly, a signal jammer that could block off cameras and other security features within range. At least that explains why there was no alarm in here...

"Ma'am?" said Rhajir a second time, his voice starting to get worried. He picked up one of the phaser rifles from the ground idly. A scowl made itself known as he noted that they were gene-coded specifically for the now-dead users. There would be no use taking any of the weapons with them as they left; they simply wouldn't fire. He dropped it in disgust.

"Okay, I'm ready to go." she said as she slipped the device into one of her own pockets, wiping some of the blood off of her hand and onto her shorts as she did so. The smear wasn't something she liked, but having a sticky hand was farther down the list of things she did.

"What about me?" stuttered Eric. He looked shocked, stunned, and completely stupefied.

"What, you're not coming?" she said with a smile. She tried to look inviting, but the expression was commonly beyond her. Her face instead came across as icy and free of emotion.

"I don- I don't understand." He stumbled over the words. Eric started to try and wipe some of the fox fur's blood that had fallen into his eyes away, but only succeeded in working it deeper into the tuft of fur that functioned as his hair.

"Well, you can wait here for security to get here and finger you as responsible for that man's death," she shrugged as she pointed mildly down at the stabbed fur, "or you can come with us. Your call."

"I- I am- I-" blabbed the jackal. He wrung his hands, obviously unsure of what to do.

"Whatever, stay here. But if I ever find that you tell them who I really am, you can be sure to expect a visit soon. And it will not be a friendly one." she said as she turned to walk away with Rhajir. She crushed a soda can with a foot as she went and her tail waved invitingly.

"Wait!" she heard him call from behind her. "I'm coming with you!"

She smiled despite herself. Nothing like a little feminine charm and a persuasive death threat.

**

Eric followed the other two morphs through the small corridor that he knew led to the parking garage. He shook his head in resignation. What have I gotten myself into? The first hot chick I meet on the first day of my new job and she's a friggin' pirate...

"You think they worked for Erebus?" asked Mark, or rather, Rhajir, judging by what Mrs. Smith had called him earlier.

"No," she replied as they rounded a small bend and passed a large ad for a new holodrama that was coming out in March. "Ryan wouldn't meet us like that and then detail a squad to kill us. He's a scumbag, but he's at least honourable in that regard. Besides, Erebus needs us alive; he practically told us as much."

"Who's Erebus?" asked Eric. Rhajir looked as if he wanted to gut him for the question, but Stacy merely smiled.

"A very powerful person. He and I have some business deals currently."

"How powerful? I mean, if he has you in his pocket he must be rather influential." he frowned.

Stacy rounded on him, her temper momentarily flashing in a show of fangs. "I am not in his pocket!" Her eyes gleamed with deadly intent.

"Woah!" cried Eric as he flung his hands up in a placating gesture. Way to go, dumbass. You're following a murderer, and you pissed her off... "I didn't mean to insult you! I've just always thought of pirates as separatists; people who don't follow orders!"

Stacy took a deep breath to gather her thoughts, finally letting it out in a frustrated sigh. "First off, I'm not a pirate, I'm an opportunistic rogue. There is a difference. Second, I don't follow anybody's orders, it's a joint op. And lastly, yes, he is VERY influential."

It was time for a change of topic. "Do you have any idea who they were if Erebus didn't send them?" asked Eric. The adrenaline from earlier was starting to wear off and leave him dizzy. They were nearing the end of the current stretch of corridor now and the faint smell of grease and oil reached them from the parking garage.

"Not a clue," she said, her previous anger now gone, "A lot of people would like to see me dead."

"You have no idea?"

"Well, I have a small one." she shrugged.

"Who?" Eric pressed.

"Never mind that, it's none of your business. And we're going through here." Stacy had stopped in front of a side door marked 'authorized personnel only' in red lettering. Rhajir checked to make sure that they weren't being followed, his barely-charged phaser still in hand. "Well?" she asked.

It took Eric a moment to realize that she was talking to him. It took him a bit longer to figure out what she wanted. She tapped the card slot on the door impatiently. "Oh!" Eric muttered as he fumbled around his neck for his security key. "Okay. Got it." He slid the key into the slot after wiping a copious amount of drying blood from it. The door chirped and a monotone voice came through a speaker mounted overhead.

<Fingerprint identification please.> Eric rubbed his hand on his pants before placing his index finger on the small green surface on the top of the scanner. <One moment. Processing... You are clear to proceed.>

He opened the heavy door and went through when a dreadful thought hit him like a train. Is that the only reason they're letting me live? Do they just need my biometrics? His fears were unsupported, however, as Stacy and Rhajir pushed past him, Stacy giving him an encouraging pat on the back.

"Thanks." she said, "Much less security in here."

"Security?" he asked blankly. Rhaj looked like he wanted to slam his head into the wall and be done with it, but Stacy once again indulged him.

"What, you think they're just going to ignore what happened back there? Even spaceport security isn't that stupid." she laughed. "Now come on; we need to find some new clothes."

"New clothes?" he echoed, uncertain about what was going on.

"Well, when they, security, see us, the felons, covered in blood, what do you think will happen? I'll give you a hint; you'd better start to like having things shoved up your ass." she elaborated.

"Oh..." said Eric weakly, taking a few moments to process what she had said. "OH! Shit! I can't go to prison!"

"Relax," she laughed, "we're not going to prison. And if you want to stay out of there yourself, I'd say that you'd better stick with us for the time being." Eric nodded. Sure, following a bunch of wanted criminals around wasn't really his cup of tea (he preferred the laid-back approach to life that involved binge drinking, good friends, and hot girls, himself), but getting 'tackled' in a prison shower didn't really appeal to him either.

"Okay..." he said, resigned to his current situation, "What's the plan?"

"First we find some new clothes, preferably some that will allow us to at least walk around the starport inconspicuously. Then we get our sorry hides out of here." she replied.

"So, we need some clothes... right. Uh... I think that there's a shower room down that way for the maintenance techs." Eric suggested as he tried to recall the layout of the staff areas before pointing down one side of the well-lit corridor that led towards the east (or, he hoped it was east, but with his current luck it was probably closer to west). "There has to be some kind of clothing there."

"Whatever," she said as if she had just been asked nothing more than if she wanted dessert, "it works for me."

**

The jackal had balls, Stacy had to give him that. People usually averted their eyes (or at least pretended to, at any rate) when she was changing, but Eric couldn't keep his eyes off of her. She caught him practically drooling over her when she had shrugged off her shirt, scolded him, and then caught him again as she was removing her shorts! He just couldn't help himself! Okay, I get you were just under a shitload of stress, but seriously? Grow up! My ass isn't going to make you feel THAT much better!

"You know if you take a pic, it will last longer." grunted Rhajir as he did up the neon-green jacket that was a part of the maintenance uniform he was 'borrowing'. He had already donned the pants and boots and now looked every bit like any member of a starport's ground crew that Stacy had ever seen.

"Huh?" asked Eric as he shook himself from his blank stare.

"He said you were staring again." answered Stacy as she climbed into the pair of loose pants, tucking her tail into the improvised flap in the back of the waistband. At least I can count on him to follow me anywhere now. As long as I don't end up in the particular position he wants me to be in, I should be fine.

"Oh. Shit! Sorry..." he mumbled as he went back to pulling his own jacket on.

They were in an employee shower room just a little bit away from the parking garage, the well-lit room completely empty and still humid from the last shift change. They had managed to find it after a slight mishap in Eric's directions and a few backtracks. They had set about making up their new disguises immediately, intent on getting out of the huge building as quickly as possible. Eric had had the easiest time finding a set of clothing, having known the name of one of the ground crew that was about his height and build and making a beeline straight for his tan-coloured locker. It was then a simple matter of ditching his own clothes and pulling on his new set after breaking the lock before he was done.

Rhajir had had a slightly harder time, having had to resort to bashing off the locks of each individual locker with a nearby fire extinguisher before finding a set of work clothes that fit him. The only problem was that the maintenance uniform had been built for a human. The striped feline morph saw to that quickly enough though, taking a knife and slashing a hole in the waistband. Doing some careful precision work with a roll of duct tape, he had resealed the hole after climbing in. A slight flex of his orange and black tale confirmed that the ad-hoc solution would at least hold until they could change again. He had covered the hasty fix with the back of the bright jacket to obscure it from view.

Stacy had the most trouble finding something suitable to wear. She had needed to search through the majority of the lockers before finding a set that was made for a female morph. Apparently, there weren't too many fems working at the NFS, so she had needed to settle with a pair of co-opted pants from another set (the lack of a tail hole fixed much in the fashion that Rhajir's was, but with a touch more finesse) due to the one she had found being far too small and a jacket stolen from the fem's suit. She hoped that nobody would notice the different number designations on them.

Stacy made damned sure that her hands were clean of blood (this, of course, being incredibly ironic to her and Rhajir. Eric didn't quite get it) and made Eric clean himself up in the shower after she was done. When they were all ready to go, they gathered in the centre of the changing room to discuss their next step.

"We need a PTV." said Stacy flatly and neither of the other two made any argument.

"We could probably get a skycar." suggested Rhajir. Stacy looked at him as if he had just asked her to shoot him in the foot.

"A skycar? Do you remember the last time you said 'we could get a skycar? You almost ended up killing me!" she frowned.

The particular incident that they were discussing had taken place ten months ago when Stacy had been following a lead on the alien sphere that she currently had stored in her pack. It had all been going incredibly well, Stacy even getting rather close to expanding her network of contacts with a few off-duty marines, before somebody else in the bar, a trader whose name she could never remember (the only thing she remembered for sure about the man was that his surname involved way too many consonants and far too few vowels) had called her out and proceeded to call her down.

Stacy put up with it for a few drinks, the small verbal insults thrown her way hardly the worst she had heard, bouncing off of her without much thought, before he had made a point of spilling his own drink all over her head. Though she herself had been furious, the Voxxan marines had been far more hacked off at the man for ruining what they thought would have been a good night. Needless to say, the poor (or not) trader soon found himself hurled from the bar and onto the cold pavement of the street.

He had decided to come back later, though, and with some friends. Stacy had needed to think quickly, her marine friends far too drunk to assist her at the time, and had resorted to using the comm-link wired into her dress to signal for an extraction. Rhajir had answered the summons behind the wheel of a very expensive looking aircar of Voxxan design and beckoned for her to climb aboard. Nothing was amiss at first, until she went to get in. Rhajir's elbow must have hit something because the car took off sideways. No big deal, right?

It was when the bar was dug into the side of a box canyon a few hundred feet up. Even more so when your foot was caught in the vehicle while you were still mostly on the outside, and when said vehicle decided that it would like to move out into the open air. She had been pulled across the small landing area by her trapped leg and over the edge, her expression one of both fear and dread. Thankfully, her foot had been sufficiently stuck fast, wrapped as it was around the ridiculously confounding seat belt, to support her weight and it was simply a matter of not panicking and waiting until the car can set down and she could free herself. Easier said than done, especially when one of the assholes that had chased you out of the bar drew a weapon and proceeded to take potshots in your general direction.

She had managed to free herself after about fifteen minutes of aerial drops, partial spins, dips, dives, and near-misses caused by the weight imbalance that her body was putting on the vehicle when Rhajir had finally made it to the roof of a nearby building. Stacy still hadn't quite forgiven her guard for that particular ride.

"No, aircars are out." she insisted. Rhajir almost looked depressed, his ears dipping and a mild frown showing on his broad muzzle. "Besides, they'd be far more noticeable. And I have a feeling that the 'port is pretty secure by now."

"I have a PTV." volunteered Eric halfheartedly, much to Stacy and Rhajir's surprise.

"Where?" asked Stacy, her black-tipped ears twitching in his direction.

"In the employee parking section. It's not too far from here."

"Do you mind if we use it?" she asked. Now it was time for Eric to be surprised.

"Wait, you're asking?" Eric scoffed. "I never knew pirates were polite."

Stacy shook her head. "I'm no pirate. I've told you that already." Sure that Eric was far from convinced, she continued. "Okay, look, what you see on the pictcasts is hardly true. About me, at least."

"So you don't raid ships?" Eric frowned. Stacy chuckled softly.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean that. I raid ships alright." Seeing the look on his face, she shook her head. Yeah, he's not going to get it... "Whatever, so I'm a pirate. That doesn't mean that I have to be a complete ass."

"-cough-lie-cough." hacked Rhajir, averting his gaze from her withering look.

"Shut it, Rhaj." Stacy spat.

"-cough-case in point-cough-"

Stacy heaved a sigh before looking back to Eric.

"Whatever, have it your way. I'm taking your vehicle."

Eric balked. "But, wait, I-"

"Shut it civie, you asked for it." she said with a wolfish grin. Then, unable to help herself as she started heading for the room's exit, she cleared her throat and said in her best imitation of a 'pirate'; "Arr, now I be havin yer' crappy shit-pile o' a car, an' there ain't nothin' ye can do ab't it!"

Rhajir gave a small huff of amusement, but Eric couldn't help but feel that he should have kept his mouth shut as he followed her out of the moist room.

**

Finding the vehicle lot was easy enough. All they had to do was follow the green signs hung at every hallway junction. After a few minutes of tedious corridor navigation (and skirting past armed patrols looking for the 'rampaging murderers', with which the disguises proved more than helpful for the most part. Somebody had commented once that Stacy's clothes had mismatched serial numbers, but she had simply feigned absent-mindedness and told him that she must have grabbed the wrong jacket. He fell for it, no doubt too busy to care, and carried on), they finally arrived at a pair of red metal doors that opened out into a typical parking garage. It was about fourteen feet high from the pavement floor to the metal-supported roof and every bit as dark and damp as the building type had ever been. A flickering lumen strip completed the classic scene.

"Where's your PTV?" asked Rhajir, his hand snaking into his pocket and coming to a rest on his once again concealed weapon.

"Aisle four, lot 38. A blue extended cab." replied the jackal fur.

"Give me the key." said Stacy's guard. His tone didn't imply that he was looking for an argument. Eric rummaged through his jacket pocket where he had stowed all of his gear from his work suit. He finally found the small ring that held the digital key, the one with the small bottle opener, and he fished it out. A quick visual check confirmed that it was the right key, so he tossed it to the tiger morph.

Rhajir caught the clinking keyring without effort in an open hand. "Stay here. I'll bring the vehicle around." Not waiting for permission, Rhajir took off, boots hitting the flooring and making echoes that rebounded off of the solid walls.

"You're not what I expected." piped up Eric with a sudden surge of boldness. "The nefarious Stacy Smith, captain of the Dying Breath. Wanted the galaxy over and completely ruthless, leaving broken bodies and sundered ships in her wake. And yet here I am talking to her and waiting for a PTV to be brought around."

Stacy smiled. "You know, I have never met a fan before."

"I doubt you could call me a fan." shrugged Eric.

"Hmm.. That's one thing that's been bugging me. How do you know of me?" Stacy asked, her innate curiosity getting the best of her.

"I used to be starport security. It was my job to know who wasn't allowed to just stroll around planet-side." Eric said by way of explanation.

"You can't have been too good at it; I got past you without even a basic baggage scan." Stacy gloated. Seeing him frown, she smiled. "But I imagine your mind was... elsewhere, eh?" She laughed.

"That was a mean trick." he huffed, not for the first time realizing just how bad he had screwed up.

"What, you expect me to just come out and say 'arrest me'? That is hardly sporting." Stacy chided. Just then Rhajir returned with Eric's vehicle, drawing to a stop in front of them.

The PTV was of the standard four wheel configuration and painted in a blue so dark that it could easily be mistaken for black had there been any less light in the parking garage. It's appearance was akin to that of just about every other PTV; a low-sunk, aerodynamic fuselage that could be modified to carry anything from one to six passengers and windows looking outwards from almost every angle. The headlights were on, effectively piercing the gloom, and the electric engine purred mildly.

"Rhaj, get out. Eric is driving. Eric, take off the jacket." said Stacy as she climbed into the passenger seat after looping around the front of the idling vehicle. Rhajir responded without question, but it took Eric longer to make sense of it all. Stacy was slightly taken aback; people usually did as she said almost instantly.

"Wait, why am I driving?" asked Eric.

"Because," began Stacy, "this is your PTV. It would look weird to anybody who saw us in it if you weren't driving." She had learned as much from personal experience and would be damned if she repeated the mistake for a second time. "So lose the jacket. And throw this on."

Stacy tossed him a shred of clothing, a white undershirt akin to the kind that he wore with his usual work uniform, and he caught it less-than-deftly. "What's this for?" he asked as she slid into her leather seat with the groaning of cowhide.

"Well, how often do you roam around topless?" She smirked. She had guessed that he wasn't the type of fur who enjoyed going without a shirt. Eric seemed a bit too tense to do it that often. Apparently, she had guessed correctly.

"Good point, I guess." he sighed as he threw the jacket into the backseat of the PTV next to where Rhajir was now sitting. The tiger fur gave a 'humph' of indifference as he tried to adjust the seat to his specifications.

"Ready?" asked Stacy. At Eric's nod as he pulled the shirt over his head, she outlined her plan.

**

It was a good thing that Stacy had thought to give me a shirt, thought Eric as they drew up to the garage exit. In addition to Carl, the good-natured and portly human gatekeeper for this parking garage, there was also an enforcement PTV staffed by no fewer than three officers that were currently talking to the driver of the vehicle in line ahead of them. Otherwise this may have even less of a chance of working than it already does.

Eric knew Carl through five years of driving in and out of the garage on his way to and from work. Though they never did more than exchange greetings, Eric knew enough to know that Carl could easily spot something out of the ordinary in his car. Over two thousand times of seeing Eric arrive and depart would have made him very keen in that regard.

Eric swallowed loudly. This was only the second time he had given anybody else a ride through here, and he had a nagging feeling that it hadn't been Carl on duty the last time he had done so. His hand began to shake before he felt a hand clap down on his shoulder.

"Steady." Stacy said in a voice that was nearly a whisper. "This is the last thing we have to do. Just do as I said and stay calm. We'll be fine."

She threw him a wry smile. "I do this kind of thing all the time."

Eric nodded almost imperceptibly. The PTV being checked in front of the was cleared through the blockade and an officer, a brown rabbit fem, waved them forwards. His heart hammering in his chest, Eric pulled the vehicle up to where the officer indicated and flicked a switch to let the window down.

"Mr. Chandler." nodded Carl, his many chins wobbling almost comically. "Heading home early 'cuz of the attack?"

"Yeah," confirmed Eric as he tried to appear outwardly calm. "They shut down the entire wing. Do you know what happened?"

Carl shook his head. "They think that it was another Humans First attack, but they're still not sure. Killed a bunch of people, I heard." Carl started, as if just noticing that Eric wasn't alone in the PTV. "Who are they?"

"This is-" started Eric, planning to say just what he had been told to before he was cut off.

"Lucy Swanson." Stacy finished for him. "I'm one of the ground crew from the western landing zones. I was... uh... talking to Eric when we got the warning." Her voice didn't falter, instead it was loaded with enough measured embarrassment to suggest that her story was only half right. She averted her gaze from Carl and interior of her ears turned a bright shade of red. Eric was almost as surprised as Carl was and flashed a cheeky grin and quick wink to the gatekeeper, hoping that the man understood the inference. They had established the back story well before arriving at the exit, but Eric couldn't help but marvel at how well Stacy had acted out her part. Then again, she had me going pretty good earlier...

"Oh..." said Carl awkwardly. "I see... And you?" The question was directed at Rhajir, who was sprawled out across the back seat of four-person PTV. Rhajir was trying to look as mad as humanly (or rather, fur-ly) possible and his green eyes glinted with barely-restrained ire.

"I'm her fiance." he growled. He was still dressed in his maintenance gear, but had undone the front to look less formal. He was flexing his considerable arms to make it look as if he was angry. "Josh. Josh Thorton. Maintenance crew five."

"And what were you doing when the attack came?" asked Carl as the rabbit officer walked over. He went to look down at the PADD in his hand, undoubtedly a list of the starport's employees. Eric almost lost it. He couldn't let him look at it! He had to think of something!

Thankfully, Rhajir and Stacy had it covered. Hey leapt into action like a well-trained acting troupe.

"Trying to stop him," he spat as he kicked the back of the driver's seat, "from fuc-"

"JOSH!" cried Stacy as she rounded on him, twirling about in her seat. Stacy had also seen where the man's eyes had started to drift, and began to play it up.

"What?" glowered Rhajir. "This bastard is NOT going to-"

"JOSH! SHUT UP!" Stacy shouted. She fixed Rhajir with a stare that Eric imagined could easily stop a man's heart. And not in the good way. She quieted down a bit. "We'll sort this out at home, okay? I don't need any more stress right now."

"I-" Rhajir protested in what Eric knew would have been an extremely offensive slur of language if it had been allowed to continue. Stacy growled and shook her head at her bodyguard. Her ears were downcast and the fur on her neck was bristling.

"Not now." Her tone was icy and completely convincing.

"Uh... I see..." repeated Carl, looking like he had just witnessed something that he would have been better off not to. "Just one last question, Eric."

Eric's blood froze in his veins. Oh boy, he thought, what now?

"Were you around the attack? Do you have any information that could help us out?" the man asked, the officer casting her speculative gaze over his face, looking for any sign of a lie.

"No. I just got transferred to quadrant three; the private shuttle landings. I didn't even know what was going on until I got the message telling me to leave."

"I've got something." offered Rhajir with a slight raise of his hand. I saw a bunch of people getting off of a cargo hauler on the tarmac. Don't know if it's relevant, but they were heading for the tram junction." Eric caught on to what he was doing and had to admit that it was pretty smart. Help them so they don't expect us of anything. Not bad.

"Can you describe them?" pressed the officer, shoving the disgruntled gatekeeper out of the way and taking up a position just outside the long window.

"'Fraid not, ma'am." replied the tiger fur, matching her gaze. "Didn't get too good a look at 'em."

"How many were there?"

"About four or five. I was checking out an Atlas at the time and I wasn't really paying attention. The damned starboard thruster had been leaking coolant and I was elbow-deep in other problems at the time." Rhajir 'chuff'-ed as he threw a dirty look at Eric. "Wish I had more to say, but I've got nothing."

"Well, we'll check it out. You may have just saved us a lot of time, sir." said the officer with a smile. "Do you mind jotting down your information?"

"No problem." Rhajir took the PADD that she had offered and typed in a series of made-up information regarding where he lived, his contact number, and basic personal data. He looked it over once before grunting. "There." He handed the PADD back. "I'm not going to be in town for a few days, though. Personal business." The officer seemed to buy it and nodded thoughtfully.

"Is that all?" asked Stacy, an exasperated expression plain on her features.

"Yeah." responded the officer. "You're good to go." She tapped the metal roof of the vehicle twice and stepped away, already beginning to gesture the next vehicle forwards with a 'move up' gesture of her arm. Eric gave a small wave to Carl, who gave a weak one in return as he shook his head, the PADD completely forgotten in the light of the 'conflict'.

The jackal fur slipped the PTV back into drive and began up the road that would take them out to the superhighway. He engaged the on-board AI and reclined in his seat. "Holy crap..." he sighed. He reached down into the console next to him and pulled a water bottle out. Unscrewing the cap, he closed his eyes and took a small sip. His hands were still shaking. Then he thought of something else. "What about the other guy? The wolf?" he asked, surprised that he had forgotten about the large fur.

"He'll be fine." waved Stacy as she set about making herself comfortable by taking off her jacket. It went a long way to making Eric rather _un_comfortable. Her fur may have been slightly frazzled and her hair was out of order, but he had to admit that she hardly looked any worse for wear. And the too-small shirt that she had commandeered didn't help the situation. "I imagine he'll get some rather positive attention out of it, too. Saving children tends to get you a good rep."

"Poor guy." huffed Rhajir. "He's probably on the verge of losing it right now. You know how much he hates children."

Stacy gave a small giggle, the laugh just as bouncy as it had been in the reception room. "Yeah. And the cameras? He's going to freak out. And all that on an empty stomach. He's going to kill us for making him take the moral high road!"

Eric started to drift off as the other two talked about things that he genuinely didn't care about, the stress he had just been put through starting to take a toll on his body. His eyes fluttered for a few seconds, his head starting to bob on his neck. There was no fighting it, so he embraced it. Eric soon fell into a deep sleep as the AI drove started to take them towards his house.

**

"Poor guy... You couldn't have just let him be?" asked Rhajir as Stacy pulled the small chip that she had planted on Eric out of the meat of the jackal fur's shoulder. She had thudded it home when she had patted him on the back earlier, just in case he was about to let something slip. It was harmless enough, just a small concoction of drugs that would keep him sleeping for a good few hours. "He helped us out, after all."

"Sure he did. And I'm glad he was there." Stacy agreed, as she slipped the thumbnail-sized device back into the plastic packaging and replaced the entire thing in one of her pockets. Then she turned her attention to the coloured lenses in her eyes, carefully plucking the thin skin of plastic out with a steady hand. Stacy blinked rapidly as they came out, her eyes watering slightly. She tossed the contacts out the side window which she had opened slightly and the lenses flew away in the fierce deluge of air. She once again looked in Rhajir's direction, her eyes back to their slate-grey colour. "But he knows who we are. We can't take any chances. Not now."

"He seems to be level-headed enough." suggested Rhajir as he pulled the sleeping fur out of the driver's seat and propped him up against the side of the vehicle in the back. "Could be a good recruit."

"Maybe, we'll see. If he stops staring at my boobs, I might ask him about it."

"Pfft! Fat chance." scoffed Rhajir as he crawled into the seat he had just emptied. He started tapping at the navigation screen, setting in a new destination. "And now we've got Erebus breathing down our necks and asking why we haven't had any results."

"Erebus will wait." Stacy said as she dug around in her bag. Her hand found the familiar shape of the xenos sphere, and she grabbed it with her questing fingers. The smooth metal surface was cool to the touch and the black object felt reassuring in her hand. The foreign runes engraved on its surface flashed with electronic power as yellow energies surged just beneath its hard and unyielding shell, the dots and lines almost blurring and rearranging before her eyes as she set in her lap. "He will wait until we have what we want."

"Ryan didn't seem to think so." sniffed Rhajir as he cracked his knuckles. Stacy's ears shuddered, the hoop earrings hanging in the jangling together weakly. She hated the pops and cracks of his bad habit, but it was one of the things she was willing to tolerate at the moment, seeing how most of her focus was on the precious orb cupped in her hands.

"Ryan's an idiot." she growled. "He's nothing more than Erebus's faithful lapdog. He can't, or won't, see the big picture."

"And what about that hit squad? I saw a tattoo on one of them; mercs. They were Wings Ascendent; I'd bet my life on it."

"Hmm... I thought as much." Stacy said pensively as she looked out the window at the city flashing by outside. The sun was starting to set and the light reflected off of a numberless amount of windows. The mist from the mighty falls hung in the air, giving everything a faint haze. "I guess Ashley was right about Morris wanting in on this." Her nose crinkled as if she had caught the scent of something foul. "He just doesn't know when to mind his own business. I would have thought that he learnt his lesson last time."

"If that was Morris." opined Rhajir with a shrug of his shoulders. "They could have been hired by anybody. Zarha, Dechiko, Austin, Renard... Any of them would gladly have you cut out of the picture."

"It was. Nobody else would have been rash enough to attack us at a spaceport." Stacy insisted. She ran a had through her shoulder-length white hair absently in an effort to straighten out her appearance. It's always Morris...

"I guess we'll find out soon enough." Rhajir said with a snort and a twist of his striped tail.

"Yes." agreed Stacy as she looked back down at the sphere. She gave a slow, thoughtful nod. "I guess we will."

The backlit glyphs on the alien artifact seemed to pulse slowly as if in silent agreement.

Chakat Universe is © Bernard Doove and used with his permission.

None of the characters or ships mentioned here are copyrighted, and if you're writing something feel free to use them. However, I would appreciate it if you told me what you were doing first.

This is purely a 'trial version' at this point, and in order to continue I would like some feedback to let me know that somebody is interested in reading. If none is received, I suppose I will sideline this idea and move on. There is already a plot line figured out, but I am open to suggestions, requests, criticisms, call-downs, and insults for anybody who wants to contact me.

(Almost) always here to reply, drop me a line at [email protected] if you have something to say or just want to say 'Hi'.