FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

He was trapped. The collapsed flight console kept his legs firmly pinned down. Twisting and wrenching to get free, he only further injured his already smashed legs.

There was a clear view outside, as the canopy was in tatters, of a dark red horizon, and a massive bulk of a ship that had landed on top of his, crushing it into the murky surface. Cackling of demons could be heard inside the ship, mocking the unfortunate pilot's fate. Their high-pitched, screeching laughter forced the pinned pilot to cover his canine ears.

Up above, in the crimson sky, cries of agony echoed across the entire planet surface. Looking skyward, he saw, in crystal clarity, flaming skeletal figures hurtling down. They were fiery beacons of pain, dozens of lupine specters that were howling their death throes for all to hear. He extended a paw upwards, trying to claw out of his predicament, as if he could vainly catch them.

The ghastly howls receded, as the spirits impacted on the surface of the dark planet. As they crashed, the face of the planet shook, tossing the pilot about in his cabin of a tomb. From the impact sites, the skeletal figures rose, now silent, and as one, turned to look at the trapped pilot. All extended forth an accusatory digit towards him, blaming him for their damned descent.

"No!" he cried, "No, no, no! It wasn't supposed to be like this! I was just trying to..."

He fell silent. It was his fault, he was to blame.

Spiders, centipedes, and all sorts of various poisonous insects poured out from the foundation of the planet, and began to fill the cabin. He struggled fruitlessly as they bit into him, stung him, and began to tear through his chest fur, burrowing into his ribs. Screaming for release, the pilot wanted nothing more than something to end the agony, as he clawed at himself. He desperately grasped for his blaster, but it was trapped, along with his legs, too far out of reach.

With a loud crack, the shattered remains of the canopy were tossed aside, and two shadowy figures stood above him. The smaller of the dark figures had glowing, blue eyes. Those eyes regarded him mechanically, as if it were a coroner giving an autopsy. The larger of the figures was massive, towering over the entire landscape. There were no discernible features...save for an incredibly wicked grin at the downed flier.

The blue-eyed demon raised a blaster pistol towards the wretched canine. He begged him to shoot...to end the suffering, to just have it all be over...

The massive demon pushed aside the blaster. "No...I think this one is dead enough already...no need to waste a shot."

And then they turned away, leaving the wolf to his doom.

Karus awoke with a start, screaming in utter terror. The sweat from the encounter with the Vultures was replaced with a new coat of cold sweat in his sleep. A few tears were trickling lightly down his cheeks. He realized he was clutching his sides tightly in subconscious pain from the nightmare.

Sitting up, Karus wiped away the tears and attempted to collect himself. He ran his paws through his sloppy golden mane, trying to make it appear less frazzled. Adjusting himself into a lackadaisical position in the chair, he idly turned on the holonet receiver to make it seem as if he were just watching a broadcast. His cheeks felt as if they were on fire, full of embarrassment, and perfectly aware of what was coming.

Just as he settled into his 'uncaring' position, he could hear someone leaping up the ladder to the cockpit. Ts'Sai's mackerel striped head popped up, her hazel eyes wide, with ears perked up in nervous anticipation of what she would find.

"K--Karus? Are you alright?" she asked timidly, treading lightly into the cockpit and approaching him carefully.

He shrugged indifferently, pretending that nothing had happened. "Just watchin' the holonet. No biggie," he replied. He looked at the screen for the first time to actually see what was on. It was a tennis match, Ts'Sai's favorite sport. "Probably just getting...too invested in this game," he continued, somewhat unconvincingly.

Percival strode into the cockpit, having gotten cleaned up after the previous ordeal, wearing his fancy lavender jacket, and sporting his bowler's hat and engraved cane. "Is everything quite alright? We could hear shouting from the crew deck."

Karus's cheeks burned hotter and he showed his anger plainly in his eyes. Ts'Sai decided to answer for him, saying, "Karus was just watching tennis and got a bit too excited. Glad to see you getting into it too, right?" She had a bit of hopefulness in her quiet voice, wishing that Karus's explanation was true.

Percival looked to the screen, clearly unconvinced by the ruse. "Ah yes, tennis," he said, dripping with sarcasm, "certainly a game that warrants primal cries of horror."

The wolf dug his claws into the side of the chair, and grit his fangs hard. Ts'Sai backed away ever so slightly, seeing the hound about to erupt. "Percival...I'm fine. Lay off of it, alright?"

Percival sighed, and went to sit in the co-pilot's position. He extended his arms to Ts'Sai, offering to prop her up on his lap. She hesitantly accepted, worrying about the wisdom of staying too close to an angry wolf.

After placing the nervous kitten on his lap, he attempted to question the pilot in his most diplomatic tone. "Please, Karus, you should really talk to us. I know you're reluctant to admit to your...rather active dreams," he said tactfully, avoiding the term 'nightmare' that Karus hated, "But...well, they've never gone away...and your 'self-medication' to deal with them-"

"Look, look!" An exasperated Karus interrupted, "I get it, alright? I'm totally fine, by the way." He impulsively tugged on his greasy, unkempt locks dangling in front of his eyes. "I mean...look, guys. I've got...quite a background, if you weren't able to tell already," he said in an uncharacteristically sheepish tone.

"Yes, yes, we understand," Percival said encouragingly while gently stroking Ts'Sai's headfur, "But, whatever your past may be, we will accept you. For goodness sakes, dear sir, we've been working together nearly two years now! You've saved this little one's life! Nothing you say right now can take back what an incredible asset, and friend, that you've been."

The hound took his paw out of his messy hair to chuckle darkly. "You say that now, boss...But you've got _no_idea," he said, looking out to the twisting tendrils of subspace corridors, recalling several exploits and misadventures. He looked downward, half-facing his caring interrogators. "You see...I'm what some might call, a bad dog, pardon the expression...I've done bad things. Still hold a lot of bad ties. I mean..," he trailed off, visibly fighting tears attempting to escape, "There's a reason I can't go back to Lupine space, alright? Some of these things you're better off not knowing."

Percival tried to reply, but was cut off again by Karus. Now that he had started, he was determined to finish his explanation.

"You see...I'm really thankful for you guys. I'm serious. You two are, well...innocent, in a very guilty galaxy. I feel like, well..," He tried several times to make eye contact with either of them, unsuccessfully. "Like...if I'm able to protect that innocence in you two, it'll make up for some of the bad that I've done."

The young kitten, moved by such an explanation, hopped up to embrace the emotionally-embattled wolf. "Oh, Karus..," she said, teary-eyed as she tightly hugged his arm, "You protect us so well...you shouldn't have to worry about protecting us from your past too."

Percival rocked a bit in the co-pilot's chair, noting that he couldn't have said it better himself.

Karus looked into Ts'Sai's wide kitty eyes, lifting her chin with his forepaw. "Listen darlin', I'm not worried about anything. I'll tell you all sorts of stories...when it's more appropriate. Right now," he said, looking to one of the display panels, "We should be getting ready to dock at Beatrice's place. Only a couple'a hours before we reach the jump point."

"Ah, yes," Percival chimed in, reading the same display, "I wanted to discuss this port with you...away from younger ears, but alas, what can one do?" Ts'Sai looked him curiously, not understanding why she shouldn't be involved in the conversation.

"Have you...read about Beatrice's lately?" Percival asked, his tone becoming a bit more judgmental. "Such as, what the current estimated murder rate is? Amount of narcotic traffic, illicit goods traded, dangerous mercenary groups, wea-"

"Alright, boss, I get it," he said peevishly, taking his turn putting Ts'Sai on his lap. "It's not a nice place. In fact, it's outright deadly.But...I know Beatrice. She's an old bovine, she's not interested in playing the Game anymore. Sure, you can't just step out of it when you don't want to play...But she's trying, just like me. Yeah, her hootch isn't registered by any official authority, and is _technically_illegal...But are you gonna damn somebody for runnin' a moonshine operation?"

Percival adjusted his purple cap, in an ancient Terran style, and fiddled with his cane, deep in consideration of their options. "Well...we do need a place to sell our findings...are you absolutely certain we are selling to someone that, well...won't use them with destructive intent?"

Karus laughed heartily while bobbing the kitten on his knee, "They're_weapons_boss, torps and missiles. I certainly hope no one's gonna launch those things at a birthday party."

The raccoon heaved a frustrated sigh, and replied, "You _know_what I meant, Karus. Are these munitions going to be used against peaceful denizens of the galaxy? Could we be finding a few IR missiles on our tail a few weeks after selling them?"

"Heh, yeah, I knew what you were getting at. It's just funny to see ya get pissy like that," he said while grinning at Ts'Sai, who smiled in turn. "Don't worry there, Percy. I know an arms dealer there too. Dragon, goes by the name of Chudnov. He used to take out pirates like crazy, before his reactor heat sinks failed in low orbit around Dromini IV. Decided to retire from the business of running the goods himself, and settled down in Beatrice's place selling the big boomers. Now, he might deal with the Hunter's Guild, whom I hate for a number of reasons...but no, he'd never sell to a pirate or raider."

Ts'Sai, after listening for so long, timidly raised a paw. "Can I ask something now? I, um...well, I haven't been out of this ship in awhile...and even though it's _super_nice, Percival," she said, putting on a sickeningly pleasant tone, "I would kinda like to go out, and see the sights and stuff...and I've never really gotten a chance to wear some of the nicer garb we picked up a few months ago..."

Percival and Karus eyes' met, both of them realizing what their young companion was asking, although their reactions were quite different.

"Now, Ts'Sai, there's really no reason to draw attention to ourselves, and this is hardly the place for fine dress..," Percival recommended. Ts'Sai's expression saddened immensely.

Karus, seeing her expression, decided to chime in on her side, "Now, boss...our little lady here just wants to get some fresh air, and show off some kickin' threads to eyes that aren't a roguish wolf or a prudish 'coon. Don't worry about 'attention,' I'll make sure no one gives her a hard time. Let's let our princess look like a princess in front of a court, alright?" Ts'Sai's ears perked up at this defense, and she widened her eyes as much as possible in a pleading manner to Percival. Karus mimicked the expression behind her, trembling his cheeks to appear even more pathetic to the leader.

"Oh, stop it, you two! Fine!" he said, attempting to sound angry but unable to stop himself from smiling. "You know I can't refuse such an adorable request," he said, extending his cane which Ts'Sai nudged with her head. "And you, pilot...stop that ridiculous expression or I will be forced to swat you."

"Yessss!!" Ts'Sai exclaimed with glee, hopping up to her footpaws and skittering towards the exit. "I'm gonna go get dressed right now! Don't land without me!" The little feline disappeared with a tiny hop down the ladder.

Percival stood slowly to head out to make his preparations as well, pausing for a moment to make a private comment to his canine companion.

"Karus...I just wanted to you know...I don't mean to, well...question your integrity, when I make comments like before. I just...worry about you. I know you dislike discussing your past, and...you hate even more when I insinuate that you're still using...those things...but, it's not because anyone is judging you, we just care."

The pilot looked downward again, unable to bring himself to face Percival. "I understand, boss. And...thanks. I'll be fine, really. And if I need to talk to y'all, I will. Don't worry. Things are definitely looking up, especially with our little stowaway. She'll keep me on the straight and narrow," he said, trying to convince himself as much as his captain, "Better get ready though. Pack some heat, too. Well, what you call heat, anyways. I figure it should be smooth sailing on the station, but...ya never know. And with being identified by the Terrans, if they're feeling especially vindictive, there could be a contract out for us. I know Beatrice wouldn't sell me out, but if any hunters get word...could be some trouble."

Percival nodded, and gave a little salute with his cane to depart, but remembered another subject he wanted to bring up. "Oh, by the way, Karus...could you ple-"

"-Se stop disconnecting the targeting computer?" he interrupted, expecting the question. He did his best to keep the annoyance out of his tone, hoping to end the conversation as quickly as possible now.

"Well, yes. I appreciate your manual accuracy, truly, but, it _has_been proven that our model of computer increases the odds of a more effective strike by 78.6 percent. Besides, I had to root around through some pretty unseemly trash mounds to find it, I'd appreciate it if it were used."

The wolf groaned, and explained for what seemed the millionth time to the raccoon, "Look, Percy, I don't trust the things. They're not that accurate, I've had experience, and well, it's another one of those experiences I'd rather not bring up right now. When it's all on the line, I trust myself with the trigger much more than some computer, and don't really like automating what's supposed to be one of the most personal decisions of a pilot. When I shoot, I wanna take the responsibility or credit for whatever I blow up, alright?"

Percival shook his head, knowing it was futile to convince Karus otherwise right now. "We can discuss why you feel that the greatest weapons designers are all wrong later, I suppose. It's not like we have anything left to fire right now, so I hope you don't anger this Beatrice while we're docking. I'm going to go prepare for our arrival," he said, heading down the hatch, leaving Karus feeling more miserable than when the whole exchange started.

Throughout the entirety of the conversation, he had been wrestling with the thought of carrying out his 'ulterior motives.' There was a pre-recorded holonet message ready to send, hidden from visible files onboard, to notify his dealer that he'd be on the station soon, and where to meet. The wolf stared at the keypad, and fought a hundred battles, back and forth in his mind. Truly, he did want to clean up his act, so as to be a better defender for his companions. And yet...the longer he struggled, the more dire the inner struggle became.

No one watching the canine would have known how intensely he was fighting himself. The pilot merely looked lost in thought, tugging his headfur anxiously, rocking back and forth. He recalled the several times he had been caught by Percival, completely drugged out of his mind. There was a close call with Ts'Sai already, where she found him completely passed out in his quarters. Luckily she hadn't seen the hypos carelessly left under the mess in his room.

Karus stood in frustration, and anxiously paced pack and forth, flexing his forearms occasionally, wishing fruitlessly that there was something to strike instead of focusing the fight internally. The more he thought about it, the more ashamed he was of his actions...and the more he wanted to forget. As seconds turned to minutes, his mind began to play the cruel trick of rationalization. You'll be more useful to them with sleep. You can't sleep with these thoughts in your head, so why not get rid of them? They won't catch you, just use a small dose in your quarters when you say you're sleeping. Don't worry about an ambush or anything like that, you'll be in the middle of subspace when you use it, completely safe from raiders or pirates. It'll be so easy to pick up at the station, if you miss this opportunity, you'll be out for weeks. Do you really think you can handle facing what's in your head alone? You worthless, good for nothing....

He quickly punched in the codes, sending the subspace message to the nearest HoloNet relay, to let his dealer know where to be. Immediately after doing so, he felt sick to his stomach, having lied so completely to his friends, but tried to take comfort in the fact that he'd be able to forget, later. It was not very settling. Karus headed out of the cockpit to his quarters, angry at himself.

Meanwhile, Ts'Sai was having a blast, picking through her tidy quarters to find the perfect accessories to go with her 'threads,' as Karus called them. The dress she put on was an elegant crimson, with white, intricately laced embroidery adorning the shoulders and back. She remembered that Percival explained something about the style's origins...something about it being loosely based on an ancient Eastern Terran style. She could not recall exactly, at the time she was too excited to be receiving such a beautiful garment during a brief port stay. Percival felt obligated to spend some crew funds on her, as most of her possessions were abandoned on the wrecked colony craft...but she tried not to think about it too much. Ts'Sai was so grateful for a second opportunity at life, she had promised to herself to live ten times as fully, to make up for her lost litter.

Next, she picked out a heavy necklace, composed of dark red-brown stones, attached to a dangling obsidian piece. The young kitten could only guess as to how valuable the accessory was, but expected it was a bit more expensive than Karus could have afforded. She did ask him about the cost, but Karus merely gave her a sly wink and told her not to wear it in the main bazaar of the Igobito system, especially not around an 'exceptionally pissed off tiger.'

She hummed a little tune to herself as she applied her eyeliner and lipstick, one that Karus had sung, (or tried to sing,) to her as he and Percival treated her for the injuries sustained attempting to survive on the dead, frozen world awaiting rescue. Ts'Sai loved her companions dearly, not just for rescuing her, but also how they took her on as one of their own. Percival, while outwardly seeming a bit impersonal, was adorable as he made his awkward attempts at showing affection. Karus, always gruff, often violent, and certainly well-versed in the more illegal actions of the galaxy, had a very kind heart she was sure she could bring out someday.

Percival made his preparations as well, in his somewhat confusing quarters. They were certainly clean, but a bit disorganized in a manner that was organized only to him. Clothing, tools, and reading materials were assorted together in a strange conglomeration that no other living creature could possibly sort through. He donned his fancy lavender jacket, and found an appropriate golf cap to accompany it, in his fascination for old-Earth style of dress and history.

The adventurous raccoon had a number of odd hobbies such as that. He was well-read on Draconic poetry, studied the great philosophical works of Lupines, Terran laws of economics, and so on. Percival himself would admit that his great curiosity is what caused his downfall in schooling. The pursuit of knowledge was the reward, not necessarily acquiring a marketable set of skills. Unfortunately for him, his parents did not agree. Instead of returning to his well-bred family as a 'black sheep,' he embarked on his own into the unforgiving galaxy, hoping to leave his mark in his own way.

As he double-checked himself in his mirror to make sure he was especially dapper, he pondered the various collections in his quarters. Many of them were acquired during his adventures with Karus. He briefly thought as to how lucky he was that he met the grizzled wolf when he did. Idealism was Percival's strong suit, not necessarily understanding the cold, hard reality of the way the Milky Way truly was. Percival had the notion, leaving behind his life of luxury, to construct a starship entirely of scrap parts, and so hid as a stowaway on a garbage scow, bound for Scrap XIV, one of hundreds of planets that was used solely to dump refuse. What he hadn't counted on, was that such planets are also breeding grounds for a criminal element, being out of sight, and out of mind, for legitimate governments and corporations.

Very quickly on Scrap, Percival found himself in danger, being so obviously out of place. His polite mannerisms and soft-spoken language made him an obvious target for cutthroats and renegades. Recalling the moment he and Karus met, he remembered he was cornered in a scrapyard, right against the hull that would eventually become the Marco Polo. A local gang of petty thugs was about to make an example of him for encroaching on their turf, when Karus leapt from the shadows on top of the hull and began a dazzling display of marksmanship with his twin blaster pistols. From that point forward, the gangs and mercenaries of Scrap gave Percival a wide berth, knowing that he was under the wolf's protection.

Together they constructed their transport. At the time, Percival was very confused as to why Karus threw in with him, and decided to stick around. After the months spent together, however, he was able to tell that the wolf was very familiar with the criminal element, yet disgusted by it at the same time, and wanted a way out of it. It became an unspoken understanding between the two, with Percival in charge of deciding their jobs and destinations, and Karus serving as the pilot and security.

However, it came with a downside. Something continuously troubled Karus, as much as he liked to avoid it. And he did avoid it. Typically, with extremely hazardous narcotics that he would sneak onboard. Percival was very aware of the habit, catching the hound completely out of his mind in his quarters...finding him at the flight controls in a daze...he found paraphernalia hidden in odd spots in engineering...

Percival found himself deeply saddened by remembering the multitude of times there was evidence of Karus's addiction. The wolf vehemently denied it was an issue, continuously saying that it was a one time thing, regardless of how many times it happened, or that he has no problem with his past that drove him to seek release. The incidents had been slowing down since the arrival of Ts'Sai, and Percival kept himself focused on that, hoping that it was finally kicked. One of the demands he made, upon taking her on as a crewmember, was that if he caught Karus again, he would be gone. For good. Regardless of their prior friendship and bond, Percival would _not_tolerate a drug-hazed pilot.

Meanwhile, Karus's mind was on the same discussion as he prepared himself in his own ragged quarters. He paced angrily, mostly at himself, amongst piles of junk parts, clothes, and general rubbish. Occasionally he looked at his visage in his spiderweb-cracked mirror on the bulkhead, wanting to strike at it...but remembering that he probably had before.

He did not _want_to buy any more Necrosia, or Zephract...but they were quick, cheap drugs to knock yourself out, or bring yourself up, respectively. Otherwise...he had to deal with the 'terrors' like before. Sleeping normally was not an option. Insomnia wracked him, merely out of the expectation of further episodes of fear.

And...he knew he could never talk about it. He was at least honest about the fact that his past was bad, however...they could never find out quite how bad it was. No, not 'it,' but him. They may be very understanding, caring creatures...but everyone has a limit on forgiveness. And if anyone crossed that line, Karus was certain it was him.

Dwelling on the depressing thoughts, Karus's dark eyes sought out the two items in his quarters that he always knew of their location. 'Turq' and 'Lav,' his customized twin blaster pistols. They were a beautiful pair, expertly balanced, with a shiny chrome finish, sleek and slender barreled, and their magazines lit brightly with their named-for colors, a glowing turquoise, and exotic lavender.

The hound picked up both blasters, checking their power settings for maximum lethality, while trying to clear his thoughts. Unfortunately, the weapons were having the opposite effect. Just the memory of previously owned weapons, and how they presented themselves as a way out of nightmares...

No,_he told himself, _I can't think like that anymore.Percy and Ts'Sai need someone to look after them, and I can do that. No time to be so far down, I'll just make this pickup, and get what I need to sleep or stay awake. That's all. I'll just be careful so Percy won't find out. It's no big deal anyways...plenty of Anthros, humans, everyone uses. Just depends on how much, I'm still here, so I must be using a safe amount, relatively...

Once he has psyched himself up enough, he set down the weapons to rifle through numerous outfits strewn about the small compartment, combining several credit chits together for the necessary funds to purchase his 'sleeping aids.' He changed his trousers and flight jacket to an all-black outfit, frayed at the edges, and a few scorch marks from close calls before. At least a few of the near-hits most likely came from some of his old jobs around Beatrice's crew, so he figured it was appropriate. Plus, the smell wasn't too offensive compared to other clothing.

Finishing the outfit with his specially fashioned utility belt, he holstered his weapons. Attaching his visor once again, he quickly uplinked the two together, so they could function in tandem. Beatrice may be on the older, more trustworthy side, but there were many others on the station that weren't, and if given an opportunity, would have no problem taking Karus or the other members of the crew out. Either for jobs the wolf had worked in the past, or for the possible bounty the Terrans may have called out for looting their graveyard of a system. Karus holstered Turq and Lav, ready to get out of the ship for a bit of business.

Heading up the ladder-well into the cockpit, Karus saw Ts'Sai anxiously examining the viewscreen that ticked off the remaining time until they reached the jump point to Beatrice's station, her tail flicking impatiently. Hearing the wolf clamber into the cockpit, she hopped up excitedly and posed for him.

"So, whatchya think? Pretty cute outfit, don't ya think?" she said, beaming with pride at her fashionista abilities.

"Hah, lookin' pretty fancy there, princess," Karus said plopping unceremoniously into the pilot's seat, checking the readouts of several displays, "And right on time, too. Nearly about to bump back into realspace in just a few."

Percival, too, popped into the cockpit shortly after, seeing Ts'Sai bounce around the room excitedly, and Karus setting up for the jump back into realspace. Noticing Ts'Sai's outfit, Percival thought to himself that the little kitten was growing quickly. Perhaps _too_quickly, considering their destination.

"Ahem, Karus, do you mind if I have a word with you in private? Concerning the attire of our away team?"

The lupine pilot batted his dark golden locks a bit with his ear, clearly not paying too much attention. "Sorry boss, trying to jump from one dimension to another. Terribly, terribly difficult calculations need to be made," he replied jokingly. The technology in every nav-computer made the jump from subspace to realspace, or vice-versa, simple as a single button press.

Percival groaned, saying, "Don't you think we should draw as little attention to ourselves as possible? No reason to paint ourselves as anyone with something to steal," he mentioned, clearly referencing the expensive piece of jewelry adorning Ts'Sai's neck.

"Percival...I know you're talking about me...you don't have to beat around the bush, I'll take it off," she said dejectedly.

Karus held up his right paw in a snapping 'stop' motion for Ts'Sai, and then went back to sifting through info from the various displays and holo-interface. With his left paw, he drew Lav, and spun it around a few times for emphasis. "Percy, I think she's fine. I'm holdin' onto these, and to be honest, it shows that you've got ba...I mean, guts, to wear that sorta stuff. I'd rather scare off the wussy hunters rather than try to fly under their radar. If they're gonna gun for us, they will, and hiding just increases their chances of catching us off-guard. Might as well be just out 'n open, and openly pack heat to keep the lesser ones scared enough to keep off. I've got mine, guessing you've got your little squirt-gun?"

The frustrated raccoon grasped his chosen armament, flustered by it being called a 'squirt-gun.' It was _not,_in fact, even an aquatically-based weapon. He was carrying his sonic rifle, which was capable of non-lethally incapacitating an assailant. Were the settings adjusted for maximum damage, it was possible for the compressed air blast to shatter the bones of an unfortunate target. However, Karus preferred the more 'permanent' solution of his dual blasters, and so chose to deride Percival's choice in weaponry.

"Karus...I understand, this station may have a certain criminal underbelly, however...I'd prefer to not invite any violence upon us, or anyone else, if we can avoid it. All we're looking to do is sell our bounty, find a new job, and be on our way. No problems," Percival said, once again emphasizing his pacifist persuasion.

"I promise you, for whatever worth my word has," Karus responded, his conscience nagging him about his plan for picking up his fix, "I will _not_shoot anyone, if they don't cause a problem first. With a possible bounty out for us, alotta upstart hunters might start getting ideas. They see us packing, they might get scared off. The dedicated ones'll come after us regardless, and we gotta be prepared. Most people here I'm good with though, Beatrice for sure, so we don't gotta worry 'bout the administration of the station screwin' us over."

Percival sighed, understanding the situation. He personally hated violence entirely, but understood it as a necessary evil. Even the vicious, psychopathic Vulture pilots that he destroyed with superheated coolant...he felt a pang of regret that such action was necessary. While Karus seemed to relish such encounters, Percival longed for a galaxy in which no lives had to be taken.

"Well, kiddo, ready to hop back to reality?" Karus asked the little kitten about to explode with giddiness, ignoring the discussion between adults.

"Yeah! Let's go!" she said, giggling, hopping onto Karus's lap.

The wolf leaned backwards over the side of the pilot's seat, and pulled a small red lever. The _Marco_emitted a whirring noise, and the streaks of light outside started becoming more defined. With a loud 'popping' noise, the ship slipped back into real space-time, with the surrounding system being perfectly visible through the canopy.

"Woah," Ts'Sai said, mesmerized at the sight through the canopy, her wide, starry eyes filled with wonder. A massive reddish-orange nebula filled the canopy, back dropping an equally impressive space station, with hundreds of smaller ships coming to and fro. The station was shaped like a massive dumbbell, a giant bulb forming at either end, connected by a smaller shaft. Miniature pipelines led from small pods along the shaft into smaller pockets of clouds that drifted along the outskirts of the nebula.

"Big balls at the end are the docking facilities, living quarters, bartering zones...basically the mini-city aboard the station," Karus explained to the obviously eager kitten, "The stick portion with the little bulbs on it, well, that's what Beatrice is famous for. They take the pure stuff...the uh..."

"Ethyl formate," Percival interjected to the aid of the less-read wolf.

"Thanks boss, yeah, that stuff, and they use it to make some of the best rum this side of the Sirius system. They rent out a few other breweries, to make Pig Swill, Panda brand wine...but none of 'em beat Beatrice's Rum."

Ts'Sai never took her gaze from the largest amount of traffic she had ever seen. Ships of all shapes and sizes, darting in an out of the station, some heading right for them and hopping into subspace, others had their engine exhaust ignite brightly, then dash off at cruising speeds to other jump points around the system.

"There's a Draconian ship, you can tell by the extra wide cockpit and HellStorm missiles all along the wing," Karus said, pointing while effortlessly bobbing the _Marco_through the sea of ships, "There's a Feline Matriarchy fighter escort, you can tell by the swept forward wings...That's a Terran independent trader, can't miss those adverts on the side...oh, that one there is an Equine Federation hauler, with that massive tractor beam on the back..."

While Karus explained the fleets of various species to the eager kitten, Percival took at seat at the co-pilot's chair to access the comms system. "To any station security, this is Captain Percival B. Ringwald, of the transport craft _Marco Polo._Respectfully requesting permission to land," Percival said, in his typical proper manner.

A flashing indicator on the holo-display of the canopy highlighted the fighter craft returning the hail. "Keep yer pants on, bub," a twangy voice spoke over the comms, "Can't ya see we're a mite busy here? Terrans took down a Vulture 'naught and everyone's rushin' to get their shit out before more of 'em show up."

"Eloquently put," Percival said under his breath, "Shall you be the escort commencing our cargo scan?"

"Shit, you're actually gonna submit to one? Alrighty then..." The sleek large-engined fighter made an abrupt U-turn to head towards the_Marco_, forcing several larger ships to bank away at the last moment. "Yeah, fuck you too, buddy," the pilot broadcast on all frequencies.

"Lemme handle this boss," Karus said bemusedly, noticing the raccoon getting annoyed with the clearly unorthodox pilot. He took the comms unit and shouted, "Watch your language, you floppy-eared sack of crap, how the hell did you get a gig flying security, of all things?"

"Well I'll be damned...Is that you, friggin' scoundrel?" The comms unit lit up as the security pilot opened up video channels. As Karus mentioned, a rabbit, with very long, floppy ears appeared, folded along the back of his helmet. Ts'Sai was intrigued by his fur, a lush green, similar to images of 'grass' she had seen before, in holonet vids. "It is you!" The rabbit exclaimed through his awkward buck teeth, "Heh, never thought I'd see ya 'round these parts after what you pulled last time, and 'specially not in that junker!"

Karus motioned beneath the camera's view to calm his captain, clearly fuming at the _Marco_being described so. "Well, Jaster, I'm sure all the hooplah died down awhile ago. Besides, I can tell," he said, pausing to hold an open paw out, indicating the vast amounts of traffic, "It clearly hasn't hurt Beatrice's buisness. She's not still sore, is she?"

"Aw, hell nah. Heck, if anything, business picked up after that. Beatrice got to be the one closest to ever catching you, and that carries a heckuva lotta weight. Follow me in, buddy. I'll clear this shitstorm right up for ya!" Jaster said, enthusiastically. Switching to all frequencies once again, he declared loudly, "Listen up, dickheads! Fighter escort and transport, inbound to docking bay Oscar two! Bearing zero, three, five. Make a hole!"

The fighter spun again, firing a few warning shots that skimmed rather close to an Equine transport. The curses of many pilots and crews were heard before Percival turned down their broadcast receiver, Ts'Sai covering her little ears quickly from the barrage of filth. Many ships, large and small, veered away so that a small break in traffic formed as a cone. Jaster's nimble fighter blasted off right through it, Karus easily following despite the greater bulk of the_Marco_.

"Yes...quite a nice bunch of friends you have here, Karus," Percival said sarcastically, while the comms were still turned down, "Firing to clear a path? Oh, and what is this stunt you pulled, which may or may not have the proprietor of this station furious at you? While we may have a bounty out on us, as well?"

"Heh, musta forgot to mention that part," Karus said, trying to play the incident off as smug arrogance. The truth was that the wolf really did not want to mention many of his past jobs, being in such a criminal element, and taking part in such an underhanded...Game, as rogues like him called it. "I stole a shipment of hootch...big one, too. Meant to give a temporary upper-hand to Arctic Ales, run by..." Karus trailed off, realizing that amount of information was not necessarily needed to answer Percival's question.

"And!?" the raccoon asked impatiently, not impressed in the slightest with how his pilot was shrugging off the issue.

"Point is, I took a job. A 'legit,'" Karus said, pausing to make air quotes with his free paw, "Job that happened to go against Beatrice. It wasn't personal, just a job. The chase was pretty epic, too. Like Jaster said, it prolly increased Beatrice's infamy up to counter-balance the loss. She came so close to finally downing me, that it sure as hell scared me away from ever taking another job like it, although they were offered. In the end she still got the business deal in Feline space, Arctic Ales ended up being an obscure off-brand, I got my paycheck...Everyone wins!" He said, ending his story with a bright, forced smile to both Ts'Sai and Percival. Neither one looked convinced, and Percival looked downright furious.

"Are you telling me, Karus," Percival asked, his voice rising with every word, "That you _knowingly_brought us to a station, where you are considered a hostile by the administration!?" Ts'Sai began curling into a corner, afraid of the oncoming confrontation between the two.

"Now, I'm not considered hostile, by any means, boss. Just neutral. Hell, I helped Beatrice out when she first took over the operation. Blew away tons of rivals, pirates, Vultures...Got some of her important deliveries out underneath authorities radar...Took other jobs, for some of her rivals as well. That's why it's called the 'Game,' Percy. It's a mix of playing governments, corporations, gangs, all against each other, for your own benefit. Too much loyalty to one, and you're gonna end up a tool. Switch sides too often, you're unreliable. Fail on a job, you're worthless...unless you were planning a double-cross from the start, or you make it a believable sell once things go south for ya," Karus said cautiously, occasionally looking from his flight path to judge Percival's reactions. He also wanted to assure Ts'Sai, who was obviously uncomfortable with the situation. "I guarantee we're good here, at least for this trip. Depending on how it goes once we meet the old cow...we can see how lucky we get. Obviously," he gestured towards the banking fighter in front of them, "I've got some connections here, and that counts for something. She can't make too big of a move, it would just...look bad."

Percival groaned, but Ts'Sai looked relieved. She was happy that their little dispute did not involve any shouting. It pained her to ever see them quarrel. Despite the kitten's youth, she had a degree of insight. Ts'Sai recognized that Percival wanted to avoid direct confrontations at all costs, and although Karus made every attempt to seem as if he blew them off, she could see the minor winces and twitches that showed he was equally hurt by such conflict.

"Oh, nearly forgot their, guys," Jaster cut in over the comms, breaking the little silence, "Startin' up the ol' scanner here...Holy friggin' crapamoly, Karus, how the hell did you get your paws on ion torps? That kinda firepower hasn't been available since those cats managed to ice that dragon station off the orbit of Cygnus!"

"Hah, yeah, about that," Karus looked quickly to Percival with a gesture asking permission to take care of the question. Without speaking, they realized it might not be the best idea to admit to lifting the weapons from the Capital Crypt if the Conglomerate had actually put out a bounty for fleeing ships.

"Saw a chase going down near a trade gate along the outer rim of Terran space," Karus started off, totally believable. The outer ridges of Terran space were not very well looked after, as their fleets had been decimated after centuries of war. Trade gates were a Terran invention, an artificial singularity enabling jump points to be created, so as to make it possible to travel through subspace to systems otherwise closed off from the beaten path of the galaxy.

"Centaurians were really coming down hard on this Warrens corvette," he continued, still a believable lie. Centaurians, a hybrid quadrupedal race along the outer arms of the Milky Way, were absolutely devastated as a population during the War. The survivors of the species mainly took up as nomadic raiders, the few others attempting to integrate themselves into the space of other powers. The Warrens made routine trading expeditions to any sector of space in order to sell their wares, as their manufacturing centers were the most intact in the galaxy. If anyone would make a trip out to forgotten Terran colonies, it would be the Warrens, and they would likely find themselves beset by Centaurians, if anyone.

"Anyways, guessing the transpo picked up a few rare torps for whatever they brought, and the 'Taurs found out about it. They were evadin' pretty decent, tryin' to slingshot around a gasser through an asteroid field. Well, they only made it 'bout halfway through the rocks before they got sheared in half by a doozy, and the 'Taurs smashed soon as they followed. We figured, why let perfectly good ordinance go to waste? Gonna pick it up and see what Chudnov will offer for it," Karus said, ending his ruse. Percival gave an approving nod off camera. It was a decent, believable story, that was not tainted by Karus bragging of his own piloting.

"Well dayyyum, son. Helluva stretch 'a luck ya found there. Hope it lasts for ya, buddy. Will see if I can put some lipstick on 'fer Beatrice, 'fer yer skin, of course. Dockin' now, I sent the all-good to control," the green rabbit said as their ships pulled up to several of the air-shielded bays, "Gresham will signal ya'll in after. Meet me at Bruster's pal, we got some catchin' up to do!"

"Will do, pal. Just don't pull a Corbo on me," Karus said with a smile and a little saluting gesture as the screen blacked out.

"So far, so good," Percival said, relaxing a bit in his seat, "Although your 'pal' has obviously poor taste regarding starcraft. The _Marco_is a work of art."

"Hah, well...Me and Jaster have something of a history too. Worked together, and against each other, and with each other pretending to be against each other, several times. Made some good money, but yeah, he's an idiot. Cockier 'n me, if you could believe it, and would back-stab ya just as fast as shakin' your paw."

The nimble fighter craft of Jaster was locked onto by a few of the station's tractor beams, and was drawn through the softly glowing air-shield of the docking bay. As Ts'Sai attempted to stand on her toes to see into the station, the comms unit flashed once again, prompting Percival to receive it. A small, somewhat geeky-looking squirrel appeared on the viewscreen, his eyes rimmed by a thick, blocky, ancient visual aid, and wearing a gawky headset. He began speaking without even looking up from his displays.

"Docking control Oscar 2 to the transport craft Marco Polo," the squirrel said with a proper, but squeaky and annoying voice, "Standby for our automated tractor beams to guide landing."

Karus chuckled a bit, and tapped the transmitter a few times to get the squirrel's attention. "I don't do guided landings, Gresham. Prefer to take her in myself," he said with a wide grin, noticing the shock on the little squirrel's face.

"_Karus!?_You came back!? Gah...oh, umm...hold on a moment," Gresham responded, obviously taken aback. He furiously typed at his holographic console, and was obviously turning back and forth to look for a supervisor. "Will you...ah, um, err," he quickly stammered, trying to decide between getting up and looking for someone with more authority or dealing with the queue of ships waiting to dock.

"Don't worry, champ. How about I land on my own, and you go report that the 'big bad wolf' has arrived, alright? You should get back in time to deal with the chumps behind me, right?"

The nervous squirrel shook his head vigorously. "Yes, great idea Karus. Oh, yes, it's nice to see you back, by the way. Hope Beatrice thinks so too. Umm...Yeah, that should be it," he said standing up, the short wire of the headset yanking it right off his head, knocking his glasses askew. "Oh," he said with his face terribly close to the screen, so his voice could be picked up by the downed headset, "Landing pad 4, please. I uh...am going to go report you to security now."

Despite the inherent danger of landing at a potentially hostile station, both Percival and Ts'Sai had to turn their heads from the camera to avoid laughing at the bumbling squirrel. Karus acknowledged their amusement with a sly grin off the side and responded with painfully forced enthusiasm, "That would be wonderful, Gresham. I'll see you later!"

As the comms unit went offline, Karus scooped up the smiling kitten and sat her on up on his shoulder and seat while he took the _Marco_in for the landing. "Better view up here, kiddo. Not much to see, but...it _has_been awhile since we could land," he said, understanding Ts'Sai's excitement. Her legs kicked back and forth eagerly slightly against his chest, and her tail whisking about in a lively fashion. As the_Marco_passed through the air-shield, a slight buzz echoed within the hull, as sound could now be heard outside of the ship. Passing through halfway, the loud roar of engines finally made their noise heard once again, no longer muted by the vacuum of space.

Percival and Karus looked at one another, both sharing an appreciation of Ts'Sai's wonder, as her eyes opened wide at the docking bay. Numerous Anthromorph species were manning the large expanse of a flight deck: canines, amphibious frogs and lizards, felines, equines....it was a veritable menagerie of creatures carrying on many tasks. A sturdy lion was directing takeoffs by signaling in a traditional fashion with bright beacons, teams of equines were operating heavy cranes and hover-tractors, a few canines could be seen decked out in security armor and armed with blaster rifles, and a trio of beavers seemed to be in a heated discussion with a toad, clearly a customs agent.

The_Marco_ slid sideways with Karus's careful guidance, directly over a landing pad clearly labeled '4.' "Reason I hate landing automated," Karus said, looking at the other craft docked in the bay, "Is that they always keep you facing inboard towards the station. What if someone wants to make a quick getaway?"

"Karus, I don't think we really have room to make a 180 degr-" Percival began to protest.

It was too late, Karus had made his mind up. A sudden flash of the rotary engines, and the _Marco_spun neatly in a perfect circle, missing a collision with docking cranes and other equipment by a few meters.

"See? Nothin' to it. People just dunno how to back into a space anymore," the wolf bragged while Percival still looked at the sensor screens, amazed at how they did not collide. Several dock workers were thinking the exact same thing, as Ts'Sai noticed several looking up in surprise at their craft. Karus pulled a few levers, and a metallic shifting and cranking emanated as the landing gear moved outward from the 'belly' of the hull. Guiding gently downward, the crew could hear the hydraulics engage as the Marco_came to a stop. The hound briefly thought about leaving the engines running, in case of a less-than-friendly reception by Beatrice...but decided against it as he powered the _Marco_down. The reactor *_shoooommmed_ * _offline.

Percival appeared to think the same thing as the crew stood up to head to the cargo bay to exit the ship, with Ts'Sai skipping and humming, leading the way. "Are you certain you want to stop the engines, Karus? Everyone we've met so far seems to expect this Beatrice to be furious at your arrival. Which would have been nice to know," the raccoon complained as they headed down the ladder-well and strode along the body of the ship.

"All about perception, my good chum," Karus replied, with a bit of false bravado, "If Beatrice pulled something on someone that's arriving in all good faith, so long after an incident, it looks bad. Petty, and a bit too obviously underhanded, even for criminals. Depending on how we meet, we can tell how much to relax here, or if we should drop the goods and high-tail it outta here."

The pair finally caught up to Ts'Sai, prancing in a circle around the hover-tractor Percival had loaded the ordinance on. "Now, I know you're excited, Ts'Sai, but it may be a better idea to-" Percival started to warn her.

"Yep! I know," she interrupted, wanting to get out as soon as possible, "Stick behind you guys, let ya do talking, all that stuff. Hurry up slow-polks!" She smiled widely at them and continued her little dance.

"Well boss, ya heard the little lady. Let's try our luck out," the wolf grimaced, roughly cranking the lever to open the back of the cargo bay.

Hydraulics buzzed with their metal ring, and awkwardly-fitted gear shafts grated against one another, as the square-backed cargo bay of the _Marco Polo_opened wide, the bottom portion extending into a makeshift ramp, bumping to a halt into the flight deck. Percival straightened his purple vest, and adjusted his cap to fit a bit tighter. He took up a position behind the hover-tractor and activated it, with the rare deactivated ordinance neatly piled and ready for sale. Ts'Sai contained her boundless energy for a moment, taking her expected spot in the formation right behind Percival. Karus, as always, strode off confidently in the lead, hoping to assess the situation as quickly as possible, and if anything did go awry, it would happen to him first.

As the trio made their way onto the deck, it was fairly obvious they had been noticed. Although the dock workers continued their appointed tasks, hauling, loading or offloading various cargoes, Ts'Sai noticed several glances leveled their way, ranging from surprise, incredulity, happiness, or fear. Percival noticed that all of these glances were directed towards Karus, at first. He and Ts'Sai were considered afterward, followed by a sense of confusion. "I'm guessing we weren't the expected companions of our canine companion," he muttered to Ts'Sai, attempting to respond to her tiny tugs on his vest, out of curiosity.

The lupine pilot ignored the dock workers, and was immediately focusing on the entrances to the station. Several of the security forces, mostly canine, with a few larger feline species tossed in, looked at one another and nodded affirmatively. A particularly muscular jackal lifted his wrist communicator to his muzzle, and whispered something. Karus could not see his eyes, due to the darkened visor of the guard's helmet, but it was not necessary, as he was certain his eyes were locked on him.

A few guards, breaking their militarized bearing, looked upward to the second deck of flight control. Karus cocked his head to the side, following their gaze. Several dock workers, noticing the typically stoic guard looking, stopped what they were doing for a moment to turn and point upwards, prompting both Percival and Ts'Sai to follow suit.

Above on the second deck, an extremely large bovine entered a clear elevator, connecting the two levels. She was clearly aged, her face hanging a bit around her large frame. Her leathery skin was a dull brown, intermittently spotted with white patches. A silvery bun sat made up between two dulled horns, and her busty frame was covered with a thick pair of overalls. Karus was able to make it out, with his zooming visor, that Beatrice had a large wad of chewing tobacco in her mouth, and spat angrily on the floor of the plassteel lift. He cautiously waved his paw behind his back, signaling Percival to take a few steps backwards towards the Marco.

Percival caught the hint, and took Ts'Sai's little paw in his, and took a few tiny steps in retreat, following Karus's warning. The kitten was confused, and began to question, but fell quiet again as she saw the green rabbit from the viewscreen running from one of the other pads over to Karus.

"Yo, buddy! Hey, I tried puttin' a good word in fer ya," Jaster said as Beatrice began to descend in the elevator, "But...she pretty much insisted on being here to see you. I wouldn't worry too much."

Karus did not appear relieved, as he disengaged the zoom of his holo-visor and began collecting as much information about the armament of the guard in the few remaining seconds before the inevitable meeting. "I certainly hope you put a ton of lipstick on that diplomatic mouth of yours, Jaster," he said, crossing his arms and attempting to look as nonchalant as possible, "She looks pretty pissed. I figured that was all blown over, buddy."

"Hey, man, don' blame me," the fighter pilot said, holding his arms in the air, as Beatrice exited the lift. "I was jest guessin', no one can really predict Beatrice, that's why she's still on top after all 'a these years."

Everyone on the pad waited with baited breath, watching the approach of the bovine. Without a word or signal of any kind, the well-built jackal and a nearby husky broke their defensive position to flank Beatrice, and a squirrel, Gresham, appeared from behind a corner, wringing his little paws, taking up the rear. The old cow stopped about ten paces from Karus, and let all in view take in her presence. The dock fell virtually silent, as every worker and traveler stopped their business to spectate the oncoming confrontation.

Beatrice looked with disdain at the rabbit standing with Karus. She snapped once at him, and pointed with her powerful arm behind her two guards. Jaster looked with a bit of regret at his former partner in crime, but knew better than to speak out. His ears fell a bit limp, and he sorrowfully drug his floppy footpaws to take a position behind the jackal.

She slowly chewed the wad in her mouth, and took a few more paces closer to the wolf, who was still standing defiantly with his arms crossed. At this proximity, both Percival and Ts'Sai could see the imposing nature of Beatrice. Despite being an old cow, she stood several feet taller than their comrade, and it was clear that she had a considerable amount of muscle mass beneath her plump frame.

Beatrice spat, making a large brown stain on the deck, before finally speaking. "Jest how friggin' dumb are ya, doggie? Yeh steal my booze, try to wreck one 'a the best deals I e'er made, then yeh come waltzin' in here, on top of it all, with a bounty on ya'll's heads fer grave robbin'?"

Percival's heart sank, and his grip tightened a bit on Ts'Sai's tiny paw. That confirmed that the Terrans did, in fact, positively identify the_Marco_during the fiasco in the Capital Crypt, and had posted bounties for their capture. Worse, it looked like this Beatrice still had an ax to grind with their pilot.

"That ol' job?" Karus remarked, as if the incident had slipped his mind. "That's all water under the bridge, sweetheart. Besides, you're the one who finally gets to say you scared me outta the Game. Huge props boost for you, and ya ended up with your contract with those kittens anyways. No one, well...important, anyways, lost anything from the gig. It'd be _incredibly_pathetic for you to hold that against me, and look even _more_pathetic for you to try to collect some meager bounty on me. What is it? Five, six grand a head? Would the mighty Beatrice really go begging the Terrans for chump change for bringing in a retired rogue wolf?"

Her blue eyes seemed to glare with fire, and her large nostrils flared. The escorts behind her gave a tiny check to one another, attempting to decide whether or not they should immediately move to apprehend the arrogant hound. Jaster gave a subdued 'throat-slitting' motion, attempting to warn Karus to stop, and Gresham wrung his paws furiously, unable to look directly at the two for long.

Beatrice then held her right hand up, in a 'halting' motion, and the guards stood ready with precise attention for her next command. "What makes ya think, little pup, that mah next motion won't have ya brought down, all tied up 'n pretty ta be picked up by those humans, ready ta put ya down fer good?"

Karus uncrossed his arms, and stepped impetuously towards the towering figure. "Cause you're standing this close to me, and we both know if that arm comes down towards me 'n my crew," he said casually, "Neither of us'll be leaving this deck alive. This is just a tactic to see if I'm rusty on the rules of the Game or not."

The matronly cow slowly waved forward her left hand, and about a dozen more guards came out of concealment from behind various crates and ships in the bay. "Yah willin' ta bet 'n that?" she asked mockingly.

"Sure am, sweetcheeks, just a little joke to try to rustle me up," he responded, with several dockworkers facepawing at such rashness.

"Naw, I know that look 'n yer face, puppy-dog. Yer tryin' to see if ya can outdraw these goons and high-tail it outta here," she said, grinning with amusement.

"Now, why would I be doing that?" he asked as his visor was giving him predicted firing arcs and a threat list to eliminate in descending order, "When I _know_this is all just a prank in poor taste."

Beatrice could not contain her smile any longer, she waved off the guards in exasperation, and they, along with the rest of the spectators looked on perplexed. "Damnit, Karus! After all these years I _still_can't tell when ya 'r serious 'r not! Come'ere ya big lug!" She shouted, before striding forward and picking up the wolf in a giant bear hug.

Karus let out a suppressed sigh of relief, as _he_was not entirely sure as he was provoking her. It was all a bluff, and for all that he knew, she _would_have had them taken in, if it was clear he was not prepared to resist. Percival relaxed his grip on Ts'Sai's paw, which had slowly turned vice-like the longer he saw his pilot antagonize the proprietor of the station. Ts'Sai just grinned at him, understanding his worry, but not losing faith in the experienced canine.

"Good to see you again too," Karus said in her powerful grip. She obviously had not lost any of her strength with age.

She unceremoniously dropped him, and he quickly regained his pose. Percival approached with the hover-tractor, with Ts'Sai in tow. "Well, now," Beatrice said, "The rumor mill is 'at ya got scared right outta the Game 'cuz 'a me, and well, can't blame 'a old cow for not trustin' everythang onna grapevine. Jest hadda make sure."

"Yeah, heh, guess I can't blame you," Karus said, scratching the back of his head through his mussed-up locks, "But...I've been tryin' to avoid any part of the Game. Got myself a legit captain now, and little stowaway to boot."

Percival extended his paw for a greeting, but Beatrice appeared to completely ignore it and immediately crouched down to greet the beaming kitten. "Now lookie here, what a little cutie-pie all dressin'-up fancy-like! Wha's yer name lil' lady?"