Clarissa looked over the contract as she ate breakfast in the ship's galley. The Lylatian Foundry had spared no expense in it's construction, and had given the ship facilities to serve a compliment of 250 crewmembers. Gleaming pots and pans lined the walls above gigantic griddles and stoves which utilized heat from the ships three La'Grange drives exhaust system. The eating area was filled to the brim with tables and chairs, all laid out in neat and orderly rows in the standard Lylatian blue and white.

She looked around at the pristine floors, the gleaming tables and chairs and suddenly realized something. It was depressingly dull on a ship like this. Perhaps with a full compliment of crew at full battle rattle it may have been a lively place of action…but with one single occupant, loneliness was almost a given.

Her breakfast was a simple affair, toast, eggs (she had made sure that the galley was stoked with real eggs as dehydrated foods usually didn't cut it with her.) and freshly roasted coffee which had been made from plants in the ship's hydroponics bay. She got up and walked over to a wall console pulling up the ship's music selection. Chopin's Raindrops suited her current mood. As the strands of song lifted her out of her rut, she rose and carried her dishes over to the disposal unit and left the room. As she headed for the bridge she looked out of one of the viewports and gazed out at the gleaming expanse of stars which shimmered brilliantly.

Beauty…it's something most mercenaries can't appreciate. She sighed and turned away from the viewport. Arriving on the bridge she looked at the view screen and saw the Great Fox in her sights. She zoomed in and noted with incredulity, that the ship had numerous sections of it's heat and RAD shield paneling loose or missing. She pulled up the ship's specs and saw that it was a Lylatian FleetFoot, one of the oldest and most outdated space cruisers she'd ever seen. The thing was outfitted for a crew of ten…and even that was stretching it. How in the world does he keep that thing working? She looked at the specs again and snorted in incredulity.

The plans as outlined by Wolf had begun… The Great Fox is currently proceeding to the Karasso space station for repairs and R&R. You are to tail them…but DO NOT engage cloaking generators…I want him to see you. Dock on the north side of the station….be sure to bring the ID and records…I've set up your accounts directly… Her mind drifted to another line in the contract: Your first move will be to 'kill' Krystal…

"There it is again sir…that cruiser has been tailing us for the past week." Fox McCloud squinted at the screen and began fiddling with the controls trying to fine tune the image. The Great Fox's computer systems were supposed to correct the distortions created by the heat wash of the ship's engines…but that and almost everything else had begun to act up after the last battle in the Aparoid invasion. Finally the image steadied…to an extent and Fox was able to pick out the sleek arrow like profile of the cruiser as it slid easily through the darkness of space. "Whats the IFF signature?" Slippy fidled for a moment and said, "It's registered as a friendly." Fox forced himself to ignore it and glanced around the bridge.

The ship had begun to show it's age. It had come under attack from an Aparoid patrol during the last stages of the team's final assault, in fact they had been attacked as they were retreating. One of the enemy fighters had managed to score a one in a million shot and had blasted out the motors controlling the Great Fox's launch bay doors, sealing the teams ships inside. With it's only external defenses manifested in a pair of fixed angle non rotating laser cannons, neither of which worked, due to a broken Focal Lens, the team had been lucky enough to escape with the engines working. The rust colored fox was pulled from his reverie by Slippy who said, "We are currently on approach to the station, two more minutes of transit and one minute to dock."

Slippy's hands danced over the keys as he negotiated the docking price with the station's computer. "We've got 32,000 credits for repairs." Fox sighed. "Well, it could be worse…we'll be able to get the major repairs done at least." He scowled up at the ceiling, glaring in annoyance at the lighting system, half of which didn't work, a blown power conduit had seen to that. Cosmetic repairs will have to wait. The doors to the bridge opened with an earsplitting screech (the motors had started to give out) and a shapely blue vixen walked into the room.

Crystal was one of the newest members of the team, and although she was new to the whole mercenary thing, Fox had found her to be a very fast learner, and she acted primarily as te teams mediator, soothing the incessant conflicts between Falco Lombardi and Slippy and generally keeping all of them in good humor. His gaze lazily traveled along her profile. It doesn't hurt that she's kind of cute. The Great Fox sidled along a docking port and the automated docking latches engaged, automated arms extending and locking onto the ship's hard points.

Fox looked at the view screen and noticed that the mystery ship had begun to turn in a slow arc toward the opposite side of the station. I wonder who's on that thing?


Clarissa's ship, Blade Of Defiance docked quickly at the station. The Vixen was dressed in full battle armor, a black formfitting bodysuit, which heavily accented the curves of her body. Over this, she wore a heavy black trenchcoat, made entirely out of FlexiBlast armor. Her weapons were simple but effective. One sawed off shotgun with 15 rounds, and an added plasma charge function, two Desert Eagle handguns outfitted with plasma packs for when she exhausted the clips of ammo, and on her left hand she carried a very rare, EMP gauntlet, that would send 1,400 volts coursing through a target at the touch of a button. She strode foreward through the doors, cracking her knuckles experimentally.

When she came to the security checkpoint she flashed her Lylatian Special Forces ID and strode through. As she looked out at the expanse of shops and kisosks, she thought, I hope this plan works…

Far away from the station, behind a drifting comet, Wolf O'Donnel's fighter fired it's grappling hooks into the icy surface and powered down. The gray wolf punched a button on his console, then opened a channel. Clarissa…this is Wolf…the team has arrived…phase one can begin. Go ahead, be creative…there's more than one way to kill a cerinian.

Clarissa looked at her wrist computer and targeted the team…