FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

The carbon scored hull of the Lishni corvette drifted into view, its brown form bulbous and spiked with a forest of antenna, dishes and nodes. It was a snub-nosed wedge with a drive block attached almost as an afterthought. The nose of the ship was pressed in to form a listening mirror and here and there, point-defence laser cannons peeked out from between the various sensors arrays.

'Looks like a piece of shit with twigs in it.' Tristan stated from the navigator's station that was positioned behind the co-pilot's station.

For this flight, Chief Lyten had opted to send out Banshee-2 with only two of its flight crew, leaving space for any 'persons of interest' that might appear. Tristan forward slightly in his seat to peer through the cockpit viewport between the heads of Chief Chris Leibniz and Shuttle Officer Jak Whitshaw. Both Arctic Wolf and Ice Dragon stared ahead, looking at the mess of the corvette, both wearing exasperated expressions.

'Where the hell do we dock, Chief?' Jak asked in bewilderment as he studied the lumpy profile.

'I have no idea.' Leibniz said softly. He cut the engines and brought them under a controlled drift as the stealth systems took over, their profile dwindling to just another mote of drifting dust in the debris field as far as the crovette was concerned.

They circled around the corvette on their small gas powered guidance thrusters, looking for an opening, hoping that they wouldn't be spotted.

'Hang on, what's that? That looks like something we could use.' Tristan said suddenly, pointing out a flat oval shape pressed amongst a thick bristle of antennas.

Jak studied the oval then looked down at his computer. He quickly brought up the briefs on the multitude of Lishni ships they had gathered during the fight over Hadras-6 and searched through the reports for their corvettes. There wasn't a single sensors dedicated ship listed, but there was a list of several Lishni corvettes, a few with names and species-origins attached to their registry numbers. A few quick queries to the shuttle's data core produced a detailed external scan of a Lishni corvette that matched the overall shape and tonnage for the Broadcaster that sat at anchor up ahead.

'Here it is. It looks to be the aft airlock portal, assuming this one's Lishni built and not a stolen ship. We only have partial data on the interior layout, so I can't tell you much on what's beyond that door.' Jak said.

Tristan made sure his data on the Lishni corvettes was up to date then sent the updated file to the other members of his squad to study and hypothesize about.

'Any ideas on how you're going to get in without us being noticed?' Chief Leibniz asked tensely, his gaze never straying from his instruments or the corvette before them.

Tristan thought about it for a moment. Really the only idea that had presented itself to him that didn't put the shuttle in danger made his stomach knot.

'I got an idea.' The T. rex finally said. 'How close can you get without them noticing us?'

'According to our sensors' last reading, the corvette had redirected most of its attention elsewhere. Most likely the Jinx. All I know is we can probably get you just inside the corvette's PDC grid before someone takes notice of something shifty going down.'

'Saaaaay... Within jumping distance?' Tristan prodded thoughtfully, scratching his chin.

The Arctic Wolf cast a look over his shoulder. Tristan didn't need to see the concerned frown forming behind the tinted faceplate to know it was there. Leibniz looked back at the corvette. It was a risk. But Tristan's risk was bigger. And it might just work.

'I reckon so, yes.' Leibniz said slowly, his mind charging frantically through various calculations and repurcussions. He finally came to a decision. 'Get your guns ready. We're going in under stealth. You'll have to use the manual controls to drop the ramp and once you're outside, we're running for the nearest chunk of rock we can hide behind. I don't have to tell you that once you're onboard the corvette, you'll be on your own.'

Tristan dipped his chin in acknowledgement then put his helmet on, the neck seals clicking with a faint hiss as they came into contact with his suit's collar. The optic strips set in the black helm flickered to life, glowing a soft green as the suit's systems fully connected and synced with each other, tying him into his squad's network.

'Understood one-hundred percent. If we don't have the corvette within the hour, you're to withdraw back to the Jinx without us.' He said.

'Copy that, L.T.' Chief Leibniz said without enthusiasm.

The battle armour clad T. rex left the navigator's station and passed through the sliding blast door into the troop compartment beyond where he announced his plan to the rest of Tyrant Squad. He felt the shuttle shift beneath his feet and a count down appeared in the bottom right of his HUD. Twenty minutes until boarding procedures kicked off. He sat down, not bothering to strap himself into the crash chair. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he looked around, studying his squad. Some had put their helmets on already, others had not, but all were looking at him intently, thoughtfully. Corporal Oscar 'Oz' Andrews looked thrilled, the Hyaenodon grinning wide, showing off a mouth full of large teeth. He had always taken pleasure in a free-falling leap through the void, from one ship to another.

'Who goes in first?' Oz asked.

Tristan looked around again, making his decision. He didn't want to give away his nastiest surprise too soon, just in case the Lishni crew had something horrible tucked away up their sleeve, too. He looked to Lance-Corporal Lance Yanov. Tha Allosaurus had his gatling gun firmly planted stock-down between his armoured feet, the tail of the first ammunition belt hanging free of its hip-mounted canister. He had two more tins of the .50 cal hard rounds, and when those ran out, the railgun could be switched to a laser gatling gun by way of inserting a battery pack into the ammunition feed slot. He had four batteries, plus an extra gel pack for the massive gun's cooling system, too. His new gauss rifle was secured to the gun rack above his head and a pair of bandoliers of various grenades was crossed around his armoured torso.

Tristan grinned. Sending in Lance first to greet the fifty strong crew of the corvette was almost unfair. The Lishni would be cut down before they even realised that Lance was a threat.

'Oz, you crack the airlock. Once you've gotten us access, step aside to let Lance in. Lance, you'll clear the way to the bridge. Cuddles, Domey,' He said, adressing the Carnotaurus and Pachycephalosaurus, 'I want you two to secure the engine room. The rest of us will follow behind Lance, mopping up the dregs. Oz, you're a vital part of this operation, so stick with Giggles and do as you're told. And remember: Every Lishni is to be removed from the picture. I don't care how you do it or how hard they beg for their life, just make sure the ship is still operational afterwards. Got it?'

There was a round of enthusiastic assent from the assembled Legionaries.

'Are you sure you want a no-holds barred approach to this, L.T?' Cuddles asked.

'What do you mean?' Tristan asked, taken aback by the softly spoken Carnatosaur's question.

She gestured to Giggles and the Honey Badger 'Harrumphed' dramatically, a wicked gleam in his eyes. There was a murmer of amusement. Five years ago, during his first outing with Tyrant Squad, Gunnery Sergeant Nolan 'Giggles' Gigliette had single-handedly cemented Tyrant Squad's reputation as one of the most fearsome, 'no fucks given' Legionnaire squads in the Shadow Stalkers by taking on a fully armed Tenglaari heavy battle mech. Giggles had somehow managed to break inside the mech mid-stride as it was cutting a swathe of destruction through an over-populated city and had managed to reduced the two Tenglaari operators to chunks with his two inch claws and serrated combat knife. The Shadow Stalkers Acquisitions Unit had opted to burn that particular mech as opposed to take it for themselves. Giggles had been reprimanded for his 'uncouth behaviour in the theatre of war', but he had taken that bollocking as a sign of a job well done and carried on regardless, wearing his official reprimand as a badge of honour.

Giggles was the one you put on the harder, grittier tasks, knowing that, in one way or another, you would get positive results.

'I'm absolutely positive.' Tristan replied deadpan.

'Gonna give the Lishni some serious PTSD just with the rumours, L.T.' Lance rumbled.

'Just one of Giggles's many uses.' Tristan remarked.

The Honey Badger barked a rough laugh, his amusement genuine.

'Just spreadin' the joy.' He said jovially.

'Terror, you mean.' Corporal Ben 'Smalls' Tarshan piped up. The Velociraptor sat strapped in his chair, swinging his feet innocently, his head cocked to one side as he watched Giggles with amusement.

'Joy for me, terror for them.' He shrugged, grinning. 'Same difference.'

'Put your helmets on, people. We have Lishni to Civilize.' Tristan said as his counter reached zero.

He stood up and walked to the rear of the shuttle, engaging the manual override and lowering the ramp. A klaxon sounded its depressurisation warning with three solid blats then went silent as the shuttle A.I queried then acknowledged the override. The already dull glow of the overheads dimmed even further, shutting off and leaving them in total darkness, with the exception of the strips of green optical slits in each of Tyrant Squad's helmets. Tristan ordered radio silence and they lined up, one after the other, attaching their tether lines to each other's belts to keep them together once they had left the shuttle. Tristan looked out across the space between them and the corvette. Chief Leibniz and Shuttle Officer Whitshaw had managed to get them deep within the corvette's PDC grid, to the point where his suit's systems could clearly see the details of the Lishni ship's hull stretching off in all directions. Dead ahead of them was the oval of the corvette's outer airlock door. He gestured with one hand then kicked off, away from the shuttle.

One by one, Tyrant Squad kicked off into the darkness, with no anchor but themselves and nothing between them and the corvette. It was an agonizing twelve minutes of drifting, but they finally slammed against the hull of the anchored corvette. Tristan winced, hoping no one inside had heard the cacophony of their collision. He grabbed Oz by the back of his armour and forced the Hyaenodon into place beside the airlock controls, holding him in position as he got to work whilst Tristan himself clung to the side fo the ship with his free hand.

Oz pressed his palms against the control interface, his body going limp in the vacuum. Eight minutes passed in tense silence, then Oz came to as the outer door slid open, spewing gasses into the void. The nine Legionares piled into the airlock's narrow interior, the door sliding closed behind them again. A red light strobed above their heads, signalling the re-pressurisation sequence was underway. The light stopped suddenly and the inner airlock groaned open with a hiss of more gasses. Tyrant Squad piled out of the airlock, forming a defensive semi-circle about the portal as they studied their immediate surroundings.

A single Lishni spacer in a scarlet and black vacsuit looked up from his datapad mid-stride, his mouth dropping open as he looked up to see the armoured giants standing before him, weapons in hand. His fist lashed out lightning-quick, smashing into the protective casing of an emergency lever that was mounted to the bulkhead wall beside him. He tugged on the lever as his chest exploded, blood, bone fragments and rags of shredded vacsuit spraying the pipe and conduit festooned junction wall behind him. Alarms wailed and emergency lights started pulsing as the pipework started hissing coolant and gasses from the bullet holes.

'Cuddles, Domey: engineering! Lance, head straight for the bridge. LET'S GO!' Tristan roared, keeping his gauss rifle raised.

Lance led the way, kicking the Lishni spacer's remains to one side. The Allosaur grinned and thumbed the firing stud of his gattling gun. The gun spooled up with a whine and pressed hard against him as it started throwing bullets down the narrow corridor they turned into, shredding the startled Lishni to bloodied chunks of meat and bone fragments. Oz had purged the ship's systems of a map during his conquest of the airlock doors and said map appeared in the top left of his HUD.

'Keep updating that map, Oz.' Lance rumbled as his gun roared, kicking up a bloody haze as more Lishni rounded the corner up ahead, pipes hissing collants and wires shredding in fountains of sparks.

'Save some for us.' Giggles muttered sourly from the back as peered around the bulk of his teammates to peer at the mess of the churned up bodies turning the corridor into a self-contained swamp of offal and fluids.

Lance chuckled as he waded through the shredded Lishni carcasses. Something grabbed his ankle. He looked down to see a Lishni soldier clad in battle armour gripping feebly at his ankle with one hand, whilst the other groped uselessly for the combat knife that was lay five feet away, still attached to his hip. Intestines trailed out of his torso in thick, purple ropes and Lance watched curiously as the light faded from the snarling Lishni's eyes, his feeble movements going still.

'Split up. Lance, take the Chou twins and Spike with you. The rest, you'll follow me. Let's clean this tub out, deck by deck. And try not to break anything too important.' Tristan ordered, gesturing for Lance to take the right hand corridor. The two Deinonychus and the Ankylosaur followed Lance, picking off anyone who was smart enough to stay behind cover, sweeping into rooms and nooks killing anyone they found.

Tristan checked his updated map. There were four decks on the corvette, each riddled with back rooms and nooks and crannies for the various sensors and ECMs the ship fielded as well as a complex engineering section towards the aft. It also had the basics every ship needed to function: a small medibay, galley, cramped four-man quarters plus a head with a tiny cargo area ensconced in the belly, accessible only through engineering. The bridge, as was common with space faring ships of war, was ensconced within the heart of the ship and was heavily protected.

They made good progress, clearing three of the four decks with minimal fuss, Tristan's group scouring the coreward sections and Lance's group scouring the rimward sections. The deck the bridge was on, however, was proving to be much more difficult to secure than initially thought. Here was where the Lishni captain had posted their most seasoned soldiers and spacers. And they had had plenty of warning of Tyrant Squad's ingress, having positioned themselves within any cubbyhole and behind any cover they could find. There was only ten of them, Tristan realised once Lance had confirmed his own position. Five Lishni were fiercely defending the rimward approach to the bridge and five more were defending the coreward approach.

Smalls, Tyrant Squad's scout, had scoped out the area surrounding the bridge, confirming that these soldiers and the personnel within the bridge were all that remained. Tristan heard the roar of a gatling gun from somewhere nearby. There was an angry shout in Lishnan, an angry Saurian roar in response then a scream of agony. Tristan grinned. Make that nine Lishni soldiers. He looked over his shoulder at Giggles and Oz. Oz had taken a well-aimed shot to the side, but Giggles had done well in patching him up. The Hyaenodon was still moving, his gauss rifle held in a firm, ready grip. The T. rex peered around the corner, down the corridor leading to the junction that would take them to the bridge. He swung his gauss rifle around, the muzzle of the gun sliding just around the corner. He sighted down its length and squeezed the trigger when he saw the top of someone's head pop up above the security console. The console exploded, a chunk of it being blown to pieces and the head vanished into the cover of the security hide again.

There was a burst of return fire. He counted the report of two heavy las-rifles as he pressed his back up against the cool metal wall between pipes. He looked at Giggles. The Honey Badger was crouched down low, covering the corner they had just come around. Smalls dropped from a vent above their heads, his armoured claws clicking gently against the blood-smeared deck plates as he landed. He looked up at Tristan then pulled a wire from the gauntlet of his left arm, plugging it into the gauntlet of Tristan's. Tristan watched the scout's footage play on his HUD.

He had managed to get into the maintenance vents above the hunkered Lishni's heads and had peered down on them from above their position without apparently being noticed. Two were hiding in the security cubbyhole; one in the cubbyhole itself, the other behind the computer station. There were two more on the opposite side, hiding in a sentry box that was loaded with more security dedicated computers with one soldier crouched, the other standing over him. The four of them had their weapons ready.

'Where's the fifth?' Tristan asked over the squad channel.

'I couldn't find him in the surrounding corridors and Domey and Cuddles say they haven't seen anyone but the engineering staff and a security detachment at their end. My guess is that the other guy is on the bridge, watching over the captain.' He replied.

Tristan thought it through as he waited for Smalls to pass on the scout footage to Oz and Giggles.

'Say, Gunny Giggles... You fancy ruining someone's day?' Tristan mused.

'Is it multiple someones?' Giggles asked hopefully.

'You see those guys in hiding around the security station?' He asked as Smalls peeped around the corner to fire off another couple of shots at the hiding Lishni. A laser bolt scored the top of his helmet in reply and he pulled back quickly with a muttered curse, gently probing the smouldering score in his helm with his fingertips.

'They still in position?' He asked.

'Yup. I want you to give them an introductory lesson in fear.'

'Smalls? Cover our rear.' Giggles growled in anticipation.

'Yes, Gunny.' Smalls replied obediently and hurried to take up watch with Oz.

Giggles sauntered past them, his gauss rifle in the crook of his elbow as he cracked his knuckles. 'You got any flashbangs left, L.T?'

Tristan pulled one free from the strip attached to his leg and popped the pin free with his thumb. He held the trigger down and held up his free three-fingered hand, counting down. When he counted zero, he rolled the grenade around the corner, listening to it skitter across the deck plates. There was a moment of silence, then a hard bang and a flash of light. The four Lishni screamed and started swearing. Giggles grinned, slung his gauss rifle and continued his casual saunter, rounding the corner, the serrated gleam of a combat knife appearing in his hand. The Lishni soldier who had been hiding behind the computer died first. He had his hands plastered firmly against his eyes, his helmet lay at his feet as he tried to rub his sight clear with the heels of his hands. Giggles had plunged the knife into his throat, tearing it free in a wide spray of blood, spun around and planted his boot in the face of the whimpering Lishni crouched in the security booth behind him and then lunged, knife first at the soldier stood over him, frantically typing commands into the computer. Giggles brought his off hand up, fingers hooked and caught the un-protected chin of the crouched Lishni who now had blood pouring down his face, pulling him to his feet as his blade plunged into the throat of his frantically typing partner. He ripped at the Lishni, tearing a ragged hole in his neck and shoved him backwards, were he sank to the booth's floor, gagging and clawing at the gaping wound.

Giggles pulled the hooked Lishni soldier to his feet and used his jaw as a rein, forcing the soldier to turn on the spot. Giggles pulled his claws free, grabbing the soldier by the scruff and let him absorb the laser fire from the final Lishni soldier who had been stunned into inaction. The aim was off, the soldier squinting hard, tears running down his face, a scream of panic tearing from his throat.

'What's that son? Speak up, I can't hear you!' Giggles shouted and pushed his meat shield forwards. He sheathed his knife and pulled his blaster free, cranked the power output up to max and put two high-powered laser bolts into the back of his head, the heat of the first shot eating through the cloth-like back of the Lishni helmet, the second blowing the Lishni's skull apart in a gout of charred meat and vaped fluids. He holstered his blaster, staring hard at the remaining Lishni. He had his finger on the trigger of his heavy las-rifle and with each crack of discharge, Giggle's armour integrity dropped dramatically. But still, the Honey Badger stood there, facing the soldier, watching his panic slowly build as his battle armour's integrity dropped. Giggles waited until his cuirass was at 25% before stepping forward, fully backing the Lishni into his cubby hole. He grabbed the flaming hot barrel of the las-rifle in his off-hand, twisted it sharply and wrenched it free from the Lishni's grip.

To his credit, the Lishni didn't hesitate to bring up his side arm, a small, medium-powered blaster that looked to be thirty years obsolete, and continued shooting at Giggles. Again, the blaster was wrenched from the soldier's hand. Giggles's knee came up with enough force to crack a rib and the soldier doubled over with a pained wheeze. Giggles grabbed his knife and brought it down on the back of the Lishni's neck, slicing a deep wound. Blood seeped out in thick sheets, spalshing heavily on the deck plates. Giggles finished him off with a snarl, gripping the soldier's head and snapping his neck with a solid yank.

The Honey Badger sucked down a deep, steadying breath. He studied the mess he had made, then fingered the charred pits in his armour.

'All clear!' He announced over the squad channel.

Tristan came around the corner, taking in the sight of the dead soldiers, the urge to chastise his Gunny warring with him to commend him on a job well done. He settled with commending him, as he usually did. You couldn't chastise someone for carrying out your orders, it just wasn't done. And knowing Giggles, he'd most likely wear it as a badge of honour.

'Form up on me. Oz, get the bridge door open.' Tristan ordered, stopping six feet from the sealed door, his gauss rifle pressed against his shoulder.

Giggles joined him, coming up on his left, whilst Smalls was at his right elbow. Both held their gauss rifles at the ready whilst Oz broke the security locks.

Three minutes later, the door irised open and they came face-to-face with a grim looking Lishni soldier with the markings of a commander. He was surrounded by a small group of stunned Black Navy personnel, the captain sitting his chair, mouth hanging open. The Lishni commander opened fire and soon found himself spread across the bridge compartment as three gauss rifles answered his heavy las-rifle. There was several shrieks of surprise and some wretching and vomiting sounds as the corvette's bridge crew were hastily stripped of any notion of security and superiority. On the opposite side of the bridge, the heavy iris door blew open, landing in a twisted, charred heap just inside the threshold. Alarms wailed and fire suppressors came online, dousing everyone and everything in a thick, creamy foam. Lance stalked in, flanked by Max and Roxanne Chou, Spike, their field medic, bringing up the rear.

'When I say let me in, you let me in you worthless little fucks!' Lance roared, pulling the nearest Lishni from his work station. The Allosaur, whilst several inches shorter than Tristan, was still a terrifying force of nature. He swung the Lishni and tossed him across the bridge where he landed at Giggle's feet, who never wasted an opportunity that was presented to him. There was a grinding of bones, a pained scream and a hard snap as the Honey Badger ground his armoured boot into the sailor's chest until his ribs broke and blood started to pool in the indentation made by Giggles's boot. The captain snapped out of his panick-stricken stupour and started shouting orders, but it was far too late. Tristan was up on his command dais with him, a large hand wrapped around his throat. He squeezed the life from the captain and tossed his corpse to the deck plates below, his executive officer following suit, a considerable hole from a gauss rifle exit wound in his chest. With their captain and exec gone and dead at their feet, the remaining six Lishni barely put up a fight.

'Clean out their backrooms. Oz, get me control of this damned ship.' Tristan growled as he stood atop the command dais, surveying the foam filled, blood-spattered chaos of the bridge. He was too big for the captain's chair, but that didn't stop him from studying the nest of monitors the Lishni captain had set up for himself.

'Utter bastards.' He muttered angrily as he watched the primary tactical display.

The Lishni corvette was tied in to every other Lishni ship in the area. And there was a lot of them. He deciphered the text scrolling across another screen that was attached to the main tac monitor and frowned. There was a full task force in the area, all pressing ahead or awaiting their turn, to take Impart Station, which was represented on the map by a blue circle with a blue X in the middle. It was annotated, of course, just like the Impart corvettes and fighter squadrons were, along with the Tanoovi, Shadow Stalkers and the Jes'wan ship which had its icon overlaid with another icon. That was the Jinx he realised, and it was careening all over the place, pushing a Lishni destroyer deeper into Impart's territory. He had no idea what his captain was hoping to achieve in the long run, but at least they didn't have an enemy destroyer breathing down their necks anymore.

He looked up, searching for Oz. The Hyaenodon was sitting at the bloodied sensors station, his fibre-optic webbed hands splayed against the computer's interface, his shoulders hunched, his chin dipped. Giggles and Spike were watching over him. The Deinonychus twins, Roaxanne and Max, were dragging the corpses away, dumping them out into the corridors beyond, lining them along the walls so they were out of the way.

'I have access to the ship's basic functions...' Oz drawled, his voice distant. 'Sensors and ECMs up next... It's gonna be a real bastard to do...'

Tristan looked back to the tac monitors. The Jinx was still in its harrying phase. The Eclipse and the two Tanoovi ships were busy with the dreadnought and its automated escorts. The Vortex starfighters were locked in combat with the Lishni starfighters, gradually fighting them back, whilst one of the Impart corvettes was tied up with a destroyer trying its luck.

Holy fuck... 'What the hell is that?' Tristan said aloud, pointing at the tac monitor. Smalls settled in at Tactical and hunched over the displays, studying them.

'I have no idea.' He said after a moment, looking. 'All I know is, I don't like it one bit. Really makes my skin crawl.'

Something big had just appeared on sensors and was hailing them. Tristan looked around, ice settling in his gut as he realised that the new arrival was wanting to speak with the corvette. His mind reeled at the thought of answering the hail. Then a flash of inspiration hit him. Oz was still in the system, deep enough to gain access to the comms array. And he knew as well as the Hyaenodon did, that even the Lishni used Universal Beacon Code - a purely mathematical coding sent in pulses through the ship's distress beacon. The distress beacon could be programmed to send any message you wanted.

Tristan grinned the grin of the desperate.

'Oz, are you aware of the ship hailing us?'

'I see it. Big bastard, it is.' Came the drowsey, delayed reply.

'Tell them, via the distress beacon, that we are currently having communication issues due to the Jes'wan sensors corvette in the system. We are doing our best to uphold our jamming broadcast and we are safe for the time being. Proceed with your objective.' He said, praying to every god he knew of that it would work.

Five minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen. The new arrival was pressing further into the system, their hails having fallen silent. Instead, they had changed course, and were now curving around the inner debris field towards the Lishni corvette.

Roxanne looked over Smalls's shoulder, watching the larger ship slowly creep towards them.

'Well, it was nice knowing you all.' She said cheerfully and sat down heavily at Navigation.

'We're not going to die just yet.' Tristan rumbled. So long as Oz gets his shit together and nets us this corvette, then we can get the fuck out of here.

'I'll see you all in Hell.' Giggles said with a dismissive wave of the hand. He didn't sound in the least bit bothered by the giant unknown that was bearing down on them.

'Put the kettle on when you get there.' Lance said, deciding now was the perfect time to do a routine field strip of his gattling gun.

'Make mine a tea. Two sugars, no milk.' Max piped up.

'I'll have a mug of s'ryn big enough to swim in, if you don't mind, Gunny.' Smalls chimed in.

'Make yer own damn drinks. I'm heading straight for the Beast's liquor cabinet and getting shitfaced.' Giggles growled.

'And then what? Piss all over his palace?' Roxanne taunted lightly.

'How else would I mark my territory?' Giggles asked as if she was stupid.

'I have the ship.' Oz sighed. 'Now performing a hard reboot with Shadow Stalkers coding laid in.' The ship went dark and remained that way for a solid four minutes.

There was no drive, life support, gravity or lights. Tristan felt his feet lift slowly off the dais. Hope bloomed in his chest as the lights flickered and he landed back on the dais, bending his knees so as not to fall down the steps. The ship's status board lit up, systems flickering from red, to amber, to green. The air scrubbers gurgled back to life and Oz snapped out of his hacking stupour, leaning back hard in his chair, his hands spread in the air before him as the lights finally came back on. Thin, silvery strands, almost like hairs snaked and wriggled back into his gloved finger tips. He dropped his hands into his lap and heaved a sigh.

'T'wasn't the worst, but it definitely weren't the best.' He grunted tiredly. 'Ra'thinas weren't kidding when they said that this ship's A.I is horrible. Felt like Synthenoid tech mixed with something else. Wouldn't have been able to do it with their interference, though. Man, surfing Jes'wan tech is a wild ride. Never want to do it again.' He added cheerfully, looking a little worse for wear.

'The ship is ours now, though?' Tristan prompted, his gaze straying to the tac monitor again. Everything had gone back to the way it had been before, but now the corvette was in Shadow Stalkers' control, not Lishni. Everything was still mapped and the broadcast had started up again.

'Lock, stock and barrel, L.T. Lemme just... Here we go. Ahh, silence. Beautiful, isn't it?' He said, leaning forward again and typing orders into system.

Tristan checked his countermeasures, sensors and comms screens. Where once there had been readouts for the various frequencies and bandwidths, was now nothing but a series of straight lines running across the screens. The Lishni corvette had stopped broadcasting. He knew the other friendly ships in the area knew, due to the fact that they were starting to look a little more coordinated on the main tac monitor. He ordered his squad to their positions at the various system controls, and settled precariously on the edge of the captain's seat, the chair groaning urgently under the large Saurian's bulk.

'Send a message to Banshee-Two and the Jinx: Let them know we have the Lishni corvette and that we are falling back with it.' He ordered.

'Aye, Captain Killian, sending out the message.' Giggles said from his position at Communications. Tristan growled at him, a deep, throaty rumble. He hated to play starship captain. He just wasn't cut out for it. 'Message has been recieved. We have orders to fall back to Nuam if we are able.'

Tristan looked down at the multitude of instrumentation, monitors and the sprawling computer interfaces that accompanied the captain's position. He did not envy starship captains in the slightest. He found the engineering board and commed Cuddles and Domey. He could have used the squad channel, but he wanted to get to know the corvette better, especially if they were going to be stuck aboard it for the duration of two weeks, assuming the Lishni's slipdrive could manage that.

'Engineering.' Cuddles's soft words were almost like a soothing balm on his frayed nerves. Of course she'd be comfortable in engineering. She was a trained ship's engineer, after all. Only bad luck had seen her take on the role of lowly mercenary foot soldier.

'How's our slipdrive?'

'Fully operational and playing nice with the sublights.' She purred.

'We're heading back to Nuam ahead of the others.' He warned.

There was brief pause. 'Understood. I'll double check to make sure there's no bugs in the system.' She replied more seriously.

'You have one hour to make those checks, because we've got a big bastard coming up on us and he's increasing speed now the jamming signal's been shut down.'

He cut the link and turned back to the tac and sensors monitors, trying to exude an air of calm.

'Smalls, plot us a safe course out of this mess, away from Impart Space.' He directed. The Velociraptor got to work, his hands tapping deftly across his work station's interface. Tristan turned to Max, who was sitting at the helm controls. 'The moment we're clear of the debris field, point us in the direction of Nuam and take us into the slipstream.'