FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Freehan's expression froze, his knuckles going pale as his grip tightened around the edges of the small desk. Both Flint and Hillok watched him carefully. The stress in the cramped room deepened as all present thought about their next actions. A soft beep broke the silence and Flint slowly pulled his scanner from his belt and checked the screen.

'Got a reply from the new Guild of Commerce about that seal. It's a fake. A very good one, but not good enough. The microchip in the seal's a bootleg that's two hertz shy of being legit.' The gryphon said. 'Your P.O Slip is fraudulent which means you've just landed yourself in some seriously hot water.'

'Tell me, Captain Freehan. What're you hauling that's got you seven tonnes overweight?' Trin growled, placing the flimsy on his desk with a whap.

'We're not overweight.' He said hotly, 'And you're lying. That P.O Slip is perfectly legal and in-date-'

'Pull the other one, mate.' Flint grunted. 'This ain't my first forgery.'

'The power supply unit for that disruptor of yours is two tonnes. The cannon itself is one tonne. Which leaves seven tonnes unaccounted for. Not to mention the fact that the most recent manifests say that you bought those cargo containers for yourself, cash-in-hand as opposed to paying off any of your debts. What about those shiny new workstations on the bridge? That's an awful lot of money to be spending on something that isn't your ship's overall health. Or does the Mags look like this for show only?' Trin asked. 'Chief Shimmervale? How's it looking down there?'

'Interesting. On the face of it, these drives are a hazard. At the core of it, though, they're in solid condition. Almost new, if you ask me. I'd like to strip 'em down completely just to see how much tinkering's gone on, but, Major, this ship is perfectly fit to sail. Her drives are stable, all bolts are nice and tight, and she's fully capable of FTL without tearing herself apart.' He replied.

'Faeren? How's the medical facility?' Trin asked the nurse.

'In servicable condition and ready to be used at a moment's notice, ma'am. The CMO and her orderly are perfectly capable and fully qualified to deal with everything from mild indigestion to first degree coolant burns. The place is spotless. Shame the rest of the ship isn't like this.'

Trin peeked out into the passage and looked into the bridge compartment, giving the loose wires and exposed conduits the once over again. She looked long and hard this time, studying it all carefully. The ship looked a mess, yes, but the Magdalaine was perfectly servicable. She had just been dressed up inside and out. She wondered how they did it, how they got so many citations for health and safety violations. Unless the ship had been fully repaired since and had been dressed up to look a mess only recently. A ship looking to be in such a condition would be passed off as just that: a mess and an accident waiting to happen. Sometimes, distracting any inspectors with the sheer state of the ship was enough to force them to write the whole thing off then and there and often stem any deep poking into the cargo, especially if said cargo was prone to giving off emissions that could be masked by a 'broken' ship.

It was often the perfect opportunity to make a getaway. She and her last crew had done such things many times before. Distract them with unstable drives, drop the cargo on the sly for the buyers to pick-up later and try to overwhelm the inspectors with niceties to shake yourself loose. She turned back to Freehan.

'We're inspecting your cargo, Captain Freehan, whether you like it or not.' She said and left the office.

She was met with the hostile visage of Freehan's chief purser the moment she stepped into the cargo hold. He held up his hand against her chest, halting her progress through the pressure door.

'Breaking the seals on these containers is not only a violation of TSH's trading rights but it will also write off any profit I stand to make off the cargo!' Freehan shouted as he hurried after her, trying to squeeze by Flint and Hillok to reach her.

'I have too many suspicions about this ship and her crew, and I have the legal power of the Jes'wan government and trading standards to back me up on this. You will aid me and mine in this inspection or you will stand aside and watch it happen.' Trin snapped as she pushed her way past the opposing Candaran. A part of her mind was expecting the cargo hold's bolts to be blown, sending the whole thing drifting so that Freehan and his crew could attempt to get away. The other half was fully expecting a blade in the small of her back.

'Luken, do not let them break any of those seals!' Freehan shouted as Trin pushed the other Candaran aside with enough force to make him stumble.

'Everyone back to the cargo hold, please. We're breaking open these containers and I want no interference from the crew.' Trin told the rest of her boarding party. She gestured to the nearest container, 'Mister Flint, if you would.'

'Aye ma'am, with pleasure.' The gryphon said. He and hillok forced their way into the cargo hold, popped the latches on the nearest container and slowly pulled the doors open whilst Freehan and Luken watched on in horror.

It was the first time they had met anyone who was bold enough to do such a thing. So far, any inspection teams had berated them and ticketed them for the state of the ship, gave the cargo a rudimentary scan and been on their way. Sometimes, that had been achieved with money. This time, he had not had the chance to attempt a bribe. Freehan tried not to hold his face in horror as the Legionnaires and their accompanying purser started to break seals on containers at random.

Flint scanned the contents of the first container carefully, studying the readings and rummaged as far back into the container as possible. 'All farming hardware. There's an entire micro-tractor in here, plough and everything.' He sealed the door up again and he and Hillok wandered around the cargo stacks, looking for their next target, opening a crate loaded with animal feed, another with scaffolding pipes and boards and another crammed with neatly folded water bags.

Freehan's mask finally slipped away completely as he hurried after them, threatening them angrily, Luken hurrying after him.

'See if you can locate that energy spike the Captain mentioned earlier.' Trin said.

'Already on it. Just cracking open a few more boxes while we're at it.' There was the echoing clang of metal hitting the deck and Flint swearing softly.

Trin hurried around the corner of a stack, rifle raised, fully expecting to see the crew of the Magdalaine holding Flint and Hillok at gunpoint. Instead, the gryphon and dragon were staring at a large sack that someone had neatly sliced open, a drift of pale silver flakes around their ankles.

'Well, that certainly isn't on the manifest.' Flint murmured, stunned.

Hillok stood staring wide eyed at the small avanche of platinum that had flowed out of the sack when he had cut a small nick in it to check its contents. The dragon had gone still as a statue as he stared at the precious metal. Freehan and Luken, however, were stood off to one side, looking on with expressions of stark horror on their faces.

'How much of what had to be broken down to get all this platinum, I wonder? Are the other sacks full of the same?' Trin asked.

When Hillok didn't reply, Flint stepped forward, the shining flakes crunching beneath his boots. He climbed into the container and started poking holes into the other sacks, announcing what he found as he went.

'Got some gold dust back here... some more platinum flakes... a sack of silver...?' A pause as he consulted his suit's database, 'Yep, that's silver... Major, this whole crate's stacked to the rafters with precious metals. None of which are on the manifests.' He shuffled back out and gently patted Hillok on the shoulder, bringing him back to reality. The two exchanged words and Hillok reluctantly moved on to the next crate.

'So, any ideas?' Trin asked them.

'I want a lawyer.' Luken stated flatly. Freehan gave him a caustic look.

'Too bad we don't have one with us right now.' Trin purred as she shooed them away from the crate and its spilled contents.

'We've located the source of the energy spike.' Hillok announced. His voice still held a distant, dreamy quality to it, but it seemed his brain was now catching up with him once more.

'Pop the seals.' Trin ordered when she saw the looks of defeat and hate on the two Candaran's faces.

The crate was the third in the stack, but just like the others, it could be opened up at either end. Flint, hanging on to the edge of the container with his claws, his wings spread for balance, started pulling out bags of grass seed with Hillok's help. Each sack landed with a dull thump, each one sounding much like the death knell of the crew's careers.

'Well, well, well. How about that? First precious metals and now precious hardware.' Flint cooed, 'Lemme get a look at your core ID... Zero-one-beta-five-seventy-five slash mark three dash H. And somehow, these jammy buggers have managed to squeeze three of them into this box.' Flint shimmied backwards out of the crate, took one good look at what he was seeing and then fluttered down to the deck whilst Hillok climbed up to the top of the stack with the gryphon's new sensor in hand.

'That means nothing to me, Flint.' Trin stated flatly.

There was a strange gleam in Flint's golden eyes, 'H'rathrid sublight drives, ma'am. Three of them, packed in tight. Might have Shimmervale take a quick look at them see how much they're actually worth, but from what I can see and the ambient energy they're leaking, I'd say they're good to go. They just need to be put inside something compatible.'

'Like a fuselage, Chief?' Hillok asked. He had made his way to the very back of the cargo hold, to where the octagonal containers were. One was open, revealing a stripped down fuselage of a starfighter that had been packed in with thick coils of stripped wire.

Trin glared at Freehan and Luken, snapped her wings online and boosted into the air with a deep hum of fluttering hardlight. She looked at the open container in distaste. Flint joined her, landing on the neighbouring container. An alarm went off and Faelen's ID went red on Trin's TacNet. There was a series of dull thuds above them and an alarm shrieked briefly before being silenced. Flint gave Trin a hard look.

'Shit.' He grunted.

'I can't let any of you leave this ship now.' Freehan said flatly. He sounded like a man who knew he had lost the game but insisted on seeing it through to the bitter end regardless of the outcome.

'Major, the Mags has sealed her airlock up and popped the docking tube free. What's going on?' Maya's voice spoke in her ear, demanding an explanation.

Bewildered by the question, Trin checked her suit's comm signal. She realised the closer to the un-shielded starfighter drives she stood, the weaker the signal was. It was more than likely that the signal had dropped at some point and had only just come back.

'Found an awful lot of precious metals, three H'rathrid sublights and a matching fuselage. Also lack of digital copies of manifests, inability to prove that certain cargos have been signed off on, the ship is much healthier than she looks and I believe that Nurse Faelen is dead. No word from Taryk or Deven yet, but they're still green on my HUD, so whatever happened down there, I hope they've sorted it. What happened? You lose the signal?'

'Yes. It's the Mags doing it. Detain the crew. The Misharra is twenty minutes out.' Maya replied. The line started crackling with static.

'And if they resist?'

'Do what you must to secure the ship, even if it means killing the crew.'

'Do we secure the Mags for transport or do you want her to sail out of here?'

'I can bar- you -eaking up- ust- sec- Mag-aine-' The line sputtered out and Trin frowned.

She dropped down to the deck below, calling out for the rest of her party. She checked her HUD for the locations of her team. Shimmervale looked like he was still stuck in engineering with Private Se'yannah stuck out in the passageway, trying to get back in whilst Taryk and Deven were still in the medibay.

'I'm detaining this ship and arresting you all-' She stopped, staring incredulously at the business end of Freehan's pistol. 'Really?'

'If I don't get this cargo to it's drop off point, then I'm dead.' Freehan said, his voice curiously devoid of emotion.

'You're dead if you don't get that gun out of my face.' Trin replied coolly.

'Who're you selling to?' Flint asked. He had not come down from the stack of containers, instead watching things unfold from above, his hand resting on the blaster at his thigh. He had an excellent vantage from the rafters and he was loathe to give it up so easily. The Magdalaine's crew would have to shoot him down if they wanted him.

Hillok had abandoned the starfighter fuselage and was quietly circling around the bottom of the cargo bay, his gauss rifle raised, searching for anyone hiding amongst the crates. The cargo bay was surprisingly large, but still small enough that he could hear what was being said without needing the squad comm open or to strain his ears. There were also plenty of places to hide, too.

'I can't say. But they pay well and I'd rather not jeapordise my whole crew. They've been waiting for this money for well over a year now and they deserve every credit this haul will bring in.' Freehan retorted.

Trin watched Luken in her peripheral. The sour looking Candaran was surreptitiously edging away from them. When he got far enough away, he broke into a sprint, heading for the bridge, barking orders into his headset. It was the same voice that had tried ordering the Djinn away from the freighter earlier.

'Nice to know the face matches the voice.' She commented.

'Remove your helmet please and order your team to stop whatever it is they're doing. I won't ask you again.'

'No.' She replied blandly. And then, over the squad comm, 'Hillok, where are you?'

'Heading off after Luken.' He replied.

There was a subtle change in the feel of the ship. The feel of the sublights murmured up through the deck, tickling into her feet and up her shins. The vibrations slowly grew in intensity and she realised that they were getting ready to try and outrun the Djinn. Or worse; attempt to micro-jump out to their jump point from beneath the Djinn.

'Major, they're spooling the slipdrive up!' Shimmervale snapped.

'Take it offline now! I don't want to end up in the back-end of nowhere with no support.' She snarled. Nor do I want to end up vaped or turned inside-out. Or both.

She slashed at Freehan with one of her lower arms, her armoured claws raking tears in the cuff of his pressure suit. He yelped, releasing his grip on his gun as blood oozed from the tears. She then kicked him to the floor, placed a foot firmly on his chest and pressed the tip of her sheathed sting against his groin. She looked about herself, rifle raised, finger on the trigger whilst he was pinned, squirming to get her off of him.

'All clear, Major.' Flint announced doing a sweep of his own.

'Now, I know you lot don't use this' She pressed her sting gently against him to reinforce her point, 'to reproduce, but that doesn't matter to me, because I know enough about your lot to know it'll hurt like hell nonetheless. Now. Who are you selling to?'

Freehan stayed resolutely quiet, his eyes wide with shock and hate. His pressure suit's emergency systems had seen to it that his wound had been sealed up, the cuff inflating to stop the flow of blood and the lining excreting medication to help numb the pain and encourage clotting.

'Damned if you do, damned if you don't.' Flint muttered from his perch above them.

To this, Freehan nodded miserably.

'Major, I had to do something about the medics. Sorry, but they're dead. And so's Faelen.' Taryk said.

'It's a relief to hear your voice, Taryk. What happened? Is Deven okay?' Trin asked, never taking her eyes off Freehan.

'Deven's fine, if a little shaken. The doctor was real sly, Major. She stuck Faelen with a hypo of something, I don't know what. But she went down in one hell of a seizure. The orderly wasn't helpful in the slightest. In fact, he went for Deven who put a hole in the bastard's chest. The doctor's... well. We'll need access to the ship's systems to bring up an ID.' Taryk said in a low voice. 'We're locked in, Major. I'm going to have to blow the door.'

The vibrations in the deck increased and Trin held her breath, waiting for the inevitable lurch of gravity that came with transitioning into FTL. When none came and the vibrations died away, she released her breath in a steady stream and glared down at Freehan.

'The engineer's mate was very helpful in taking things offline. Well, I say engineer's mate, I guess what I mean now is, the chief engineer was very helpful.' Shimmervale announced. 'We're drifting without power now, though.'

'What happened?'

'Chief engineer has moved on. Unfortunately, he's moved on to being all over the back of the engine room. Chief Engineer Thylan seems quite pleased with this, actually... Um, he wants a word with you.'

'Put him through.' She said, curiosity getting the better of her as she glared down at Freehan.

'Uh, Major Moro?' A reed thin voice said tentatively.

'Go for Major Moro. This is the new chief engineer, right?'

'Ah, yes. It is. Mister Hycen was never pleasant to work with and I can't say I'm sad to see him gone. Major, You can kill everyone onboard this tub, myself included, just leave Jus'ett alone. She's only fourteen years old and got caught up in this mess like myself. She was forced into this life, see. Either help steal and smuggle for the enemy, or be sold as a slave. She's a pretty young girl, smart, too, so I think you can guess the kinds of people what would buy her...'

'Aye, I can guess... What do you know of this cargo, Chief Thylan?'

Using his newly acquired rank seemed to warm him up to her a little bit. Apparently, he had been waiting for a promotion for some time. She heard him take a deep breath even as she watched the little green marker that was Hillok's ID lurking near Taryk and Deven's.

'They were to be transferred to a Lishni ship somewhere in the outer reaches of Impart. All of it, not just the starfighter parts and precious metals, but the fertilisers, batteries, insulation rolls, life support units, scaffolding... All of it for the Lishni in exchange for twenty million credits.'

'No doubt about who would get the lion's share.' Trin muttered as she pressed her stinger against Freehan to stop his experimental wiggling.

There was a dull explosion somewhere to the fore of the ship and a pall of acrid smoke rolled through the open pressure door and into the cargo hold. She heard Taryk and Deven swearing.

'Don't kill Jus'ett, please!' Thylan begged desperately when he heard the explosion.

Trin made sure to pass the word along to the others, 'She'll be fine if she complies and allows us to arrest her. If what you say about her is true, then she'll be tried fairly under the Special Circumstances legislation.'

A sigh, 'All right. That's all that can be asked for in this situation, isn't it?'

'Yes it is. Now, do you know the name of the ship you're supposed to be transferring the goods to?'

'Only the captain knows that, sorry. If there's anything else I can do to help, just ask.' He replied.

Trin checked her TacNet. 'If you can unlock the door to the bridge so my merry band of idiots doesn't wreck the whole place, I'd be grateful.'

'Can do. Just a second.'

She heard him shuffle away from the comm and Shimmervale came back.

'You trust him?' She asked him.

'I'd say he's the most trustworthy person on this crew.' He replied.

'Flint, keep an eye on this fool. If he moves, kill him.'

'Aye, Major.' Flint said and dropped down onto the Candaran when Trin moved away and ran for the bridge. He planted his weight on Freehan, pinning him painfully to the deck, his armoured talons slowly sinking into his torso. 'You so much as twitch and I'll gut you like I gutted my lunch earlier.'

She stepped over the bleeding corpse of Luken and pushed her way to the front of the small group of Legionnaires, raising her gun as the pressure door slid open. Three bewildered faces stared at them as they piled in. The Candaran at the sensors station was the first to react, leaping from his seat. Trin squeezed the trigger and his slim torso exploded, his head landing on the deck with a wet thud as his body staggered forward a few paces to slump at her feet. Deven strode forward in three long paces and seized the arm of the pilot, twisting it sharply. He yelped and dropped his needler gun, the slim, muscular tentacles unfurling from his back and lashing out. The Candaran wrapped them around Deven's waist and started to constrict, the air rushing from his lungs painfully. Without an angle that would leave the young Jes'wan girl without injury, Trin swung the butt of her rifle up, cracking him in the chin.

He reeled back and she pounced on him, drawing a pair of combat knives with her lower hands. She cut the sinewy lengths of muscle away from him and he howled in pain, bucking beneath her, trying to get her off him. She swore as she tried to stop him squirming and gave up. He wasn't about to be arrested, she knew that, so she ran both her blades into his stomach, holding him down until he stilled and his eyes went vacant. She pulled herself upright to find that Taryk had removed Jus'ett from the bridge. She wiped the blood from her visor slits, checked her TacNet and saw them heading into the small breakfast nook.

'How is she?' Trin asked as she surveyed the chaos that was spattered acround the bridge.

'Shaken bad, Major. The sooner we can get her to see Isera, the better.' Deven said.

Trin tsked. She could hear Taryk in the background, murmuring something to the girl as she looked around the blood-stained bridge. She walked over to the sensors station and frowned. There was a programme running, but she couldn't figure out what it was. Sensors wasn't her thing so she called on what little knowledge Flint had after remembering what he had said earlier about his last attempted career path.

'What's it look like?' He asked.

'This.' She sent him a recording of what she was looking at.

A few moments passed until he came back to her, 'Sorry, Mister Freehan tried making a break for it. Um. That looks like a basic ECM subroutine. Nothing compared to what the Djinn can do, but it's just enough to annoy our comm frequencies. Probably why some of our suits lost contact earlier. I figure most of the computer's concentration is going into keeping the Cap out of the loop. You can shut it down simply by turning the computer off.'

'Excuse me, what?'

'What? Switch the computer off and the jamming signal will stop. Easiest way, to be honest. What were you expecting?'

'Something a little more complicated than just turn it off.'

Flint's chuckle burbled through the comm, 'Sorry, but sensors duty is rarely that exciting.'

She set about shutting the computer down, taking a few minutes to figure it out first. She was unfamiliar with the technology, but it didn't stop her from pressing buttons to see what happened. If all else failed, she could just put bullets into it until it died. It was a method that worked with most things.

'Major Moro, do you copy?' Lieutenant Wilkins said.

'I'm still here, El Tee. But we lost Faelen, shot six of the Mags's crew, have one apparent turncoat, the captain is under arrest and the youngest crewman will need psychological help as soon as. She er, saw one of her colleagues explode...'

'You know that shooting things from so close isn't considered target practise, right?' Wilkins said then sobered, 'I've informed Doctor Isera of the medical emergency and Faelen's status.'

'The Misharra's just dropped out of slipspace. If you can refrain from killing Freehan for the next five minutes, the Cap would greatly appreciate it.'

'No promises on that front, Wilkins.' Trin replied and stomped from the bridge.

She glanced into the breakfast nook and saw the Jes'wan girl curled up under Taryk's arm, her eyes vacant. Taryk shrugged gently so as not to disturb her.

'She just went silent. Can't get a peep out of her now.' The Panzaarian said, her otherwise gruff voice soft.

'I've regained contact with the Djinn and told them the situation. Isera's expecting her, but what she can do for her, I don't know...'

'Think she's gonna need some hardcore help.' Deven said, glancing over his shoulder at the girl. He was stood just inside the threshold of the room, keeping watch.

'If she can be helped at all. I've seen that expression many times before.' Trin moved on back to where Flint was perched atop Freehan, purposely ignoring the mess in the small medibay as she passed.

The two were glaring at each other and Shimmervale, Se'yannah and Thylan were standing around, watching with interest. Above their heads, they heard the docking tube reattach to the hull with a dull thump.

'No more explosive squibs out there, Chief Thylan?' She asked.

The old Jes'wan shook his head, 'Only enough room for one set at a time. Once they've been spent, someone's gotta go out there and replace them.'

'Good. The Misharra's coming to pick us up in a few minutes.'

'How's Jes'ett?'

'Physically fine, mentally, not so much. She'll need a lot of help before she can stand trial. That is, assuming, anyone can lure her back out of her shell.'

'What happened?'

'The navigator met a hollow-point from about two feet away.' Trin replied smoothly.

Thylan said nothing in reply, just looked away to glare at Freehan. 'This is all your fault, you bastard pirate!' He snarled in his own tongue.

Freehan sneered at him in answer. His sneer, however, faded fast when the inner airlock door cycled open and a squad of armoured Jes'wan Marines dropped in, guns raised. Freehan panicked when he caught a glimpse of then, bucked hard and toppled Flint from him. He rolled to his side and launched himself at Trin, a snarl of hate twisting his features, catching her off her guard. She cursed and instinctively curled her metasoma around as they toppled to the deck, her sting piercing through her smartweave. The hypodermic sharp sting lanced through his pressure suit and stabbed deep into his thigh. Freehan howled in shocked pain which was cut off with a grunt when she headbutted him and shoved him aside. She stood up, cursing herself and grabbed her gun. They watched him writhing around on the deck, howling in distress at the realisation of what she had just done to him, his hands gripping the wound, blood oozing from between his grasping fingers.

The Marines swarmed into the cramped space between shipping containers and watched in bemusement as Freehan sobbed about being poisoned, instinctively admitting as many of his sins as possible before he inevitably melted from the potency of her sting. Trin trained her gun on him as he rolled around, burbling terror fuelled nonsense, her lower arms folded under her bust, a thin line of amusement racing through her.

'Excellent work Major. You and your squad may have just cracked this case wide open for us.' The lead Marine said over Freehan's crying.

Trin nodded, recognising the voice immediately. It was Commander U'lyan, one of those that had co-signed the contract to hire the Djinn. He was one of the Jes'wans local to Nittan that had been put in charge of the case when it had come to light that military hardware had started to go missing from the area.

'Sooooo...' One of the Marines asked in curiosity, 'When's he start melting?'

Trin snorted, 'I've wasted enough of my energy on this cretin. There's no way in hell I'm wasting my venom on him, too.'

'He gonna die?' Flint asked as he watched in amusement.

'Nope. Not enough blood and his suit hasn't inflated, meaning I didn't go deep enough to get an artery or anything else important.'

'I say we let him be dramatic until he figures it out.' Thylan muttered, poking the stricken Candaran in his wound with his telescopic wrench, making him howl more.

Trin moved her attention to the Marines, 'We got one mentally scarred kid in the breakfast nook, three dead in the medibay, one of which is ours, one dead in engineering, two on the bridge and one in the passage, this guy who helped us and all this contraband. How do you guys want to handle this?'

'We'll take the survivors in and administer any medical aid they need. The ship and its contents will be hauled back to one of our naval yards and quarantined as evidence. The temperature will be dropped to below zero so we can keep the bodies in situ for processing. All we need from you is your BRs and statements. Other than that, you're job here is done.'

'Stupid question, but do we have to leave Faelen here?' Trin asked slowly, knowing what the answer would be.

U'lyan scrutinized her, lips pursed in thought, 'Is the body interacting in any way with the others?'

'No.' She replied. 'She died in the corner away from the others. Both Deven and Taryk have video evidence of the scene and what happened. Everything will be in our BRs.'

U'lyan sighed and nodded, 'You can take her, but if this comes round to bite me in the ass, I'm dragging you down with me.' He paused, then, 'I'll need those BRs the moment you get back to your own ship if you want to take your squadmate home now.'

A surge of relief washed through her. That was one less problem Maya would have to deal with. She hoped. She could send Faelen home to be interred sooner rather than later, which would ease her family's suffering a fraction. All Trin had to do was hand over her team's BRs in five seconds or less after setting foot back on the Djinn.

'Taryk, Deven, the cavalry has arrived. This is their show now. Bring Jes'ett through, she's going home with them.' She looked to Shimmervale, 'Could you go get Faelen from the medibay? You have a better chance of getting her back to the ship than Hillok does.'

Shimmervale nodded and disappeared into the bridge module, passing Taryk and Deven as they stepped into the cargo hold, Jes'ett wrapped firmly in Deven's arms. The skink handed her to one of U'lyan's men who took her back through the airlock, Shimmervale following suit with the limp form of Faelen, using his wings to help him climb back up the tube.

'Good luck, Chief Thylan.' Trin said. She saluted the old Jes'wan and left the Marines to their job.

'You bitch!' She heard Freehan gasp angrily as she walked by, 'I thought I was going to die!'

'You don't get out of it that easily.' U'lyan said as two of his men hauled the Candaran off the deck, clamping a pair of shock cuffs to his wrists.

Trin urged her party back up the docking tube and followed them up into the confines of the Djinn. The experience of going from a run-down wreck to a clean, stripped out environment that looked fully functional was something of a shock. She stepped away from the airlock and pulled her helmet off, sucking down the clean, recycled air of the ship. Even through her helmet she could smell the mouldy aroma of the Magdalaine, so the recycled, faintly sterilized scent of the corvette was bliss. She leaned back against the wall and filled her lungs, letting out slow breaths, ignoring the curious glances passing crewmen gave her. The job was over, even though the Misharra was having to use the Djinn as a go-between to board the old freighter. She looked at the blood spatters on her armour, sighed and headed off to clean up and load all the gathered data and recordings onto a chip.

~~~~~~

Maya looked around the table at the faces of the boarding party, Pata sitting to her right, Trin to her left. The Misharra had taken her leave ten minutes ago, her captain leaving with copies of everyone's reports, the Magdalaine in tow. The Djinn was heading for the edges of the Nittan system, cruising for the designated jump point that would put them on course for their next stop, something everyone was looking forward to; some down time on a sprawling space station rich with various luxuries for the crew to partake in for a couple of weeks and a much needed re-supply for the ship itself. Maya put the collected BRs into an armoured box that was specially designed to contain the gathered microchips safely and rested her hands on its smooth surface once it had accepted her thumb print for security.

These were hers and her C.O's, hardcopies to be handed over to high command when they returned home. For now, Vice Admiral Tamost would have to make do with the digital copies she had sent an hour ago.

'Well. As far as Captain Ophan and Commander U'lyan are concerned, you guys did an excellent job and presented them with a significant chunk of evidence as to what's happening. Whether Freehan will give up anything beyond the Mags's activities remains to be seen, though... Did you really have to stab him, Trin?'

'Absolutely, Ma'am.' The hornet replied blandly.

'What next, Cap?' Shimmervale asked, the dragon reclining in his seat. His pale silver scales shimmered like precious stones in the glare of the overheads, each scale refracting the light and giving him an odd, multicoloured aura that glowed faintly.

'Vice Admiral Tamost has ordered us to Sunburst Junction for resupply and some downtime. We have three weeks in FTL to get there in time to make the most of our two week shore leave. In the meantime, our payment is being processed and should be accessible by the time we arrive. Is there anything else?' She asked.

There was a chorus of negatives and she dismissed them, letting them go about the rest of their evening as they pleased. Exhausted, Maya stretched her legs out under the table and winced in pain as her muscles tightened spasmodically. An alert popped up in her wetware's HUD, a notation highlighted in red reading ALERT! Rectus Femoris Error. She groaned in irritation. Of all the times for a muscle to demand repair, it had to be now, AUs away from civilisation and a market that could supply her with a replacement that would not have ShiyaGen track her down and re-capture her. Re-capture would mean re-sale or termination, neither a prospect she was fond of. She groaned again. Her life was about to get even more complicated. She waited out the cramp and then pulled herself out of her chair, leaving the wardroom for her quarters.

She stepped into her quarters to the sound of her comm unit beeping from her office space. She sighed as she pulled her small repair kit out of the bedside drawer and stepped through the small pressure door into her office. She sat down at her desk, un-did the clasps that held it sealed tight and answered the call, her attention split between it and the selection of slim, surgical-style tools that gleamed in the light of her cramped office. Her crew already had their new orders: make best speed for Sunburst Junction or lose precious hours of downtime. It was an order that needed no questions asked.

'Go ahead.' She said, pulling a pair of slim awls from their sheaths and laying them out on her desk.

'Captain, I thought you'd want to know the latest news concerning Impart Station.' Lieutenant Freemarsh said.

The Engarren was Third-In-Command and currently had the ship. Maya cocked an ear towards the comm unit, waiting for him to continue, noting the slight hesitation in his voice. She paused in what she was doing, belt un-buckled, ready to remove her trousers so she could get access to her leg to try and repair whatever damage had been done, or at least ease it. But his tone had thrown her off and she frowned at the comm unit, waiting for some elaboration.

'Lieutenant?' She prompted, 'What happened? Did someone run into one of their docking arms again?'

'No, Ma'am. Impart Station's been destroyed. Only a handful of ships made it out. We had three ships there. Two multi-role destroyers and a dreadnought, all fresh from a fight. The dreadnought is the only one that got away and reports say she was pretty beat up.' He said.

Maya froze, the tools she had neatly arrayed on her desk forgotten. Her leg started to cramp again, but she ignored it in favour of turning on her computer and accessing the news feeds that were coming in from Impart's corner of space.

'Thank you for informing me, Lieutenant.' She murmured as she watched the feeds in growing horror.

'Just thought you'd like to know sooner rather than later, ma'am.'

The line cut off and Maya leaned back in her chair, horrified by the destruction caused. The station was a roiling cloud of scrap and here and there, a torn and twisted starship tumbled lazily into view of the reporter's cameras. She pursed her lips when she caught a glimpse of an Ishinn freighter, armed to the teeth, fighting with a Jes'wan cruiser. The freighter blossomed into a fireball and was no more. She instinctively thought about the Magdalaine and its disruptor cannon, the words 'Lishni incursion' seeping into her mind as she half-listened to what the reporter was saying. The Magdalaine had been hauling stolen military hardware and had made several visits in recent years to Impart Station. A small part of her was screaming that it was all connected, but at the end of the day, that was not her decision to make.

She put in a call to the ship's steward and settled in to watch the chaos unfold with a cup of hot tea in hand, her leg temporarily fogotten, her ire rising. The threat the Lishni presented had gone up several degrees in a matter of hours and she felt the atmosphere onboard the Djinn turn grim. Their attack had taken out two Shadow Stalkers destroyers and maimed a dreadnought. That meant they were down three ships they could ill afford to lose; their dreadnought ranks were thin and their multi-role destroyers were more valuable than platinum after the battle over control of the Kaldrin Sector. It would take ten years or more for the commissioned Panzaarian shipyards working at full capacity to fill in the gaps in the Shadow Stalkers fleet and that was assuming that the financial leaks within the company could be plugged. In another ten years, it was quite possible that the Shadow Stalkers Military Assistance Service would exist in name only. She wondered how many aboard those destroyed ships had managed to escape, if any and decided that the first thing she would do once they got to Sunburst Junction, would be to ask Tamost for more details on the situation.

She reclined in her chair, tails arranged comfortably about her and sipped her tea, mentally ticking off the many ways she could kill a Lishni soldier and inventing new methods, too.