A Council Invitation

The drab black cloth of her outfit swept the floor from side to side as she paced the small space that was designated her living space. It was a small space ship,two rooms, a batroom, kitchen and a large control room. Seven bunks compacted the control room, a box under each bed contained the clothes of the crewmen. there was a small closet to the left of the entrance into the control room. She was never told what exactly was kept in that closet, and she hadn't bothered to look. She could simply guess.

With the men she had been sharing space with and the mission they had come to commit... no complete, they had needed the kind of men trained in navigation, piloting, and military captures, and even executions. that's the kind of men they needed for this mission. Killers, professional killers. And then there was her. She was no killer, she was no pilot. She was simply the bearer of a message. There to issue an invitation.

For some reason she refused to contemplate, her nearest and dearest, both family and those she considered friends, had seemed comfortable enough leaving her to the care of these, for the most part, un-known men. Of course, she had protection. Two of the braved, most couragous men in the court. They were her body guards.

One a tall dark skinned Chinese man, who was almost as wide was he was tall. He was a hot-head, no two ways about it. He was a killer, he also had one of the most conniving, darkly suspect minds she had ever experienced. But he was also dedicated to their cause and committed to protecting her with his last breath. He was the kind of person who's intentions you could read clear across his face. If he wanted to kill you, you could tell, and if he pledged his loyalty to you and the cause, you sure and hell could tell he spoke the truth. His name was Derrick Shoul.

The other she had known since she was 12, Micheal Marcus. So nice they'd named him twice. At least that's the taunt he'd been plauged with since he was 7. Perhaps that, along with natural instincts, was what had made him grow into the uncanny killer that he was. Like Derrick he had no qualms about killing, for even the slightest of reasons, but with him you couldn't tell until it was too late. Unlike Derrick he didn't plan things so much as take people by surprise. A nice good ol' boy charm and then a knife between your ribs with the hilt cracking every rib as he dragged it up to your throat. You never second guessed Micheal, or your death was on your own conscience.

The rest were little more then mercenaries. They were hired to complete a capture mission, even though they had all been formally warned that there was to be NO killing. but they loved money and the man they were going after was worth a hell of a lot more if he was delivered to some slam, instead of escorted back to her home planet where he would receive, hopefully at least, a civil and hopeful welcome.

This entire trip had been filled with doubts. she had been raised not to question her duties or the obligations that created her duties. She had been raised to follow the rules, as long as they benefitted her She'd been raised to curb any feelings she wasn't told to feel. Her life was to obey the duties of her position. But time alone was enough for her instincts to flare, she had a natural nose for trouble, even if she tried to hide it, and she knew this trip would be nothing but trouble.

There target alone had trouble stamped all over him. His reputation alone told her that even the crew that accompanied her would not be enough to get this enigma to accept, whether by choice or force, the invitation she had to offer. She was not allowed to accept a denial. she had to bring him back, reguardless. That was the bit that had her worried.

What part, if any part of this man could be of use to them. He was a publicity hound. It might not have been his choice, but fame, well, infamy followed him around, he could disappear into an abyss and still his name would be whispered in bars, money would still be placed on his head, and everyone would still want a part of him. That wasn't the kind of person that could do them good.

She wasn't exactly sure what he was required for, but she was against it. She had thought that her opinion, would be worth more then it had been, but her objections to this mission had been dismissed without being heard. It had troubled her, she was trained perfectly in her position as...

She went flying into the wall of her small living apartment, she was collapsed in a heap on her bed as the ship swerved and jolted suddenly and violently. She pushed up against the wall trying to get her bearings. Knowing the worst hadn't yet come she braced herself between the walls and stood slowly. She pulled her door backwards and walked her way, with legs and her hands braced, into the small hall of the ship.

She pushed her back against the hall wall, and walked carefully towards the control room, as the ship jerked violently and sent her flying into the other wall with force. with a muttered curse in her native language She pushed herself up, threw away her catious trek and ran for the control room, she made it to the door, grabbing it tightly, and waiting only a couple of seconds for another jolt to shudder through the ship.

"What the hell is going on?" She shouted to the entire crew as a few dressed crew-men, were gathered around the console, shouting at each other, while others scrambled to get up and get dressed and find out what the hell was wrong. One of the paritally dressed crew-men was Micheal, he was looking around in confusion, his eye's resting on her for a moment, before pushing himself up, in only a pair of boxer shorts and going to investigate the console and interrigate the pilots.

"Tara you should sit and buckle down." The voice of Derrick offered, but his face warned it wasn't negotable. The name Tara was a title not a name. Her given name was Evelyn, but it had been so long since she'd heard it. She was royalty to her people, the Tara. And she was rarely referred to in anyway, but with the deference she was due as ruling monarch.

"What's going on Derrick." Evelyn demanded trying to keep her composure, and act befitting her status while she took his orders like a three year old child.

Derrick didn't reply, he simply held the restraints out to her silently, watching her buckle up and then checking the restraints again, just to make sure. Once he was satisfied he took a seat beside her, both there backs to the wall, sitting to the right of the control room entrance. He buckled himself in and then said in a deadpan voice, as yet no excitement in his eye's. "You are about three minutes away from meeting the illusive Richard B. Riddick. Are you ready for this Tara? Whatever the outcome?" There was an urgent warning in a voice that didn't convey any emotion.

"Ready as I'll ever be." As the Tara of her people she had no choice. This she did for all of them.