There was the usual hushed murmur of activity in the Maylin Arms. Cutthroats of every breed and creed came in here to plot their next heist or wash away the failure of the last. A short Crogen man placed down his empty glass.
"She put out from Montressor about two weeks back," he said, "my friend sent me a video of it leaving, trust me."
"I'll trust you after I've seen it dock here" hissed Scroop. The Crogen was wearier of Scroop than any other of his kind. While Scroop had the usual terror inducing features, he also had a gauntness about him, a sign of the weeks he had spent drifting through the etherium after being flung from the Legacy.
"When will she be here?"
"She scheduled to put in tomorrow afternoon"
"Good…" the spider creature smiled, "Good…"
"PLANET HO!"
The off duty watch scrambled to the forecastle and the on-watch rushed up the masts at the shout from the crow's nest
"Pull in all topsails!" the first mate, a human called Arthur Rayers, cast a critical over the crew. He watched as the sail handlers climbed up to the very top of the ship, stood on the thin cross trees and hauled in the uppermost sails. Mr Rayers had always had a fondness of the old fan-type sails; he was impressed by how easily they could be hauled in and out, just by pulling on one rope. They weren't as efficient as square canvas, but they did look the business.
He felt a presence next to him. He turned to see a tall, shapely Felinid woman standing beside him, hands clasped behind her back and her head held high. She wore the typical captain's uniform of the King's Interstellar Navy, her strong history in the military granting her the honour of still wearing it despite now being classed a merchant spacer.
"I trust all is in order, Mr Rayers?" She said, looking over the deck before turning to face him, "This is Mixis, isn't it?"
"Aye, Captain," Rayers noticed theplayfully arched eyebrow, "at least I think it is."
"If it isn't," the Captain Smiled, "then you can walk back to Montressor and tell the Admiralty exactly where we are, as I'm sure that they won't appreciate such a..." she paused, "gargantuan screw up."
"Aye, Captain, but I'm pretty sure this is Mixis. Now, if you'll excuse me ma'am, I'll see to the mooring lines." And with that Rayers left the bridge and walked up to the forecastle where several crewmembers were fumbling with some heavy hemp.
Captain Amelia Doppler watched him go before turning her eyes towards the looming Mixis docking platform. She took out a slip of paper and glanced at the address where she was supposed to be meeting her contact. The Legacy had been hired by the King's Navy to track down a particularly disruptive pirate, but as yet neither side knew exactly who he was. That was why Amelia was going to be ducking into some godforsaken watering hole to meet with a Navy spy. This spy had apparently radioed to headquarters that he had a photograph of their man. The top brass had decided that sending a full blown warship to pick it up would seem suspicious and could have blown the whole attempt to snare the pirate. But who could they send in place of a military envoy? Captain Amelia and the RLS Legacy. She was a respected merchant spacer and highly capable ex-military officer with a relatively small civilian-spec galleon, perfect for a bit of espionage based hunting.
A pair of pilot boats had flown out to meet the Legacy. Amelia looked at the pier they were indicating, sniffed in disgust and ordered the helmsman to follow their lead.
The Legacy slipped into the berth under the deft touch its Captain on the helm. Amelia never trusted anyone with the docking of her ship, not even the ace helmsman that the Navy had supplied with the crew. Now she stood on the pontoons that ran down either side of the ship watching the dock workers and crew tied the vessel down. A dockworker went up to Mr Rayers, addressed him as captain, took payment and sauntered off. Rayers nodded to Amelia and she set off into the city, clad in a large, uniform concealing boat cloak clutching the paper in her pocket.
The felinid weaved through many varied creatures of many shapes sizes colours and breeds as she progressed in to the very bowls of the port town. Eventually she came to an inn. The Maylin Arms. Amelia checked to see that no-one was watching and went inside.
Once inside the Captain gave the room a once over. It seemed that cutthroats of every breed and creed were in here probably plotting their next heist or washing away the failure of the last. She walked up to a small, slug like six-eyed creature.
"The weather is always sour in June," Amelia watched the thing carefully.
"But the sunflower is a rare beast," it said slowly.
"it is," Amelia relaxed a little, this was the contact, "I believe you have something for me?"
The slug looked around and slowly passed a small envelope across the table. Amelia picked it up and held it under the table. The creature nodded. The felinid opened it. Her heart stopped.
"Him…" she whispered. The slug nodded again and slipped away from the table, leaving Amelia to contemplate the photo in her hand.
It was getting dark as the dock passed through Maxis' shadow. Captain Amelia stepped out of the Maylin Arms onto a now deserted street. She cursed and clenched the picture in her pocked. She looked around to make there was no one there and headed back to the Legacy.
As she was walking, she heard a noise. The spacer stopped in her tracks and listened. Her felinid ears twitched. Amelia stood, focussing intently on the now silent alleyway. She heard it again. Her fingers inched for her pistol. It was behind her.
Amelia whirled around but felt all of the air leave her body as something hard hit her chest and threw her back against the wall. A huge claw came from darkness and pinned her, hard. She struggled but stopped when the light hit the face of her assailant.
"Mr Scroop!"