黒い鞄と白い騎士
White Knights and Black Bags
Six figures sat around a table in the Amity's mess deck...
Traversing across the vast empty reaches of deep space between star systems was always at least a several week affair, if not more, depending on the power and precision of the ship's jump drive. This simple fact of interstellar travel gave everyone aboard the ship an extraordinarily ample supply of time, and very little to do with it. Engineers could usually busy themselves babysitting the ship's systems, making sure the engines and jump drive didn't overheat and other such, but everyone else had to have their own pastime to ward off cabin fever.
"Gamma group..."
The speaker was a rough lizard with deep orange scales, and several almost beard-like spines lining his face. It gave him a serious, decisive appearance, complimented completely by his quick yet steady voice.
"One bogey coming straight at you: what's your move?"
"Split up..."
The answering figure was a sturdy, tough-built mostly white furred canid with a distinct arching muzzle, and black patch of fur around one eye. He spoke with the impression of someone who'd been doing this for a while
"Circle around and initiate a weave defense."
"Agreed." James said with a quick nod. He was sitting right next to the relaxed Canid.
"Bogey pursues Malloy," the reptile continued, "dives away from McCloud's counterattack: what's your move?"
"Roll out and pursue." the white canid– Malloy– responded wearily.
"Go high, look for bogey's countermaneuver." the fox finished, "Be ready to jump in if he slips away."
"Bogey neutralized."
The bearded lizard gave Malloy and McCloud a quick nod, and turned to another pair further around the round table.
"Beta group, two bogeys make a sweep for the Amity at 10 o'clock low headed your way: what's your move?"
"Fly at bogeys guns blazing..."
She was a great, powerfully built ursine, looming over everyone else at the table.
"Force a split or take them out."
"Follow Su at two seconds flight distance."
He was the smallest figure at the table; a blue and white plumed avian, who seemed even smaller
"First bogey splits away, second bogey passes Dodge: what's your move?" the reptile supplied.
"Pursue first bogey." the bear– Su– answered without a second thought.
"Open fire on second bogey, pass into a J-trun and pursue if he's not destroyed." the avian– Dodge– continued, making each decision carefully, "Otherwise, continue straight and assist Kodiak."
"Bogeys neutralized."
"Alpha group..."
Malloy spoke now, looking across the table at the orange scaled lizard.
"Three bogeys, first and second in tight formation, third lagging behind, what's your move?"
"Roll away from tight two." the reptile replied, "Pursue lone bogey, firing on approach."
The sixth and final figure, who'd been silent up until now, was a slender -weasel who seemed to be constantly shifting in his seat and glancing around.
"Fly at the tight pair, guns blazing."
"Second bogey splits off pursuing Commander Memo." Su continued, "First bogey passes Rudy."
"Yo-yo to pursue second bogey." the bearded lizard– Memo– replied quickly.
"Third bogey rolls away into pursuing Rudy." James adds in, "First bogey pitches back."
"Lag roll to pursue third bogey." the weasel – Rudy– responds.
"Second and third bogeys neutralized." Dodge fills in, "First bogey pursues Memo."
"Form up and initiate weave defense." The reptile
"Agreed." Rudy nodded.
"First bogey pursues Memo, Rudy counterattacks." Malloy concluded, "Bogey neutralized."
This is more or less what the trip had become for them.
Commander Panos Agamemnon, or "Memo" as he came to be known, ran daily verbal drills with his squad: two hour sessions, three sessions a day. Over the course of a single week's worth of this treatment, the fighter squad from Caius Company became so attuned to one another as to anticipate each member's response several steps ahead. Next to running live flights, or even flight-sim practice, verbal drilling sessions was the best they could do under the circumstances; if not to keep their reflexes sharp, then at least keep their minds prepared.
Sometimes they drilled in the Amity's mess like now, sometimes in the hangar amongst their company fightercraft while performing maintenance, sometimes in the lounge, and if the claims from the Amity's Captain were to be believed, then sometimes they even drilled aloud in their sleep. Wherever it happened, the squad's rapid clockwork recitations would occasionally draw an audience, fascinated by back-and-forth patter of aviation jargon.
"Any fool can jump into a cockpit and pull a trigger," Memo would tell those who asked why they kept drilling, "It's tight, intuitive unit cohesion that separates poor fighter pilots from capable ones, and dead ones from live ones, and your lives subsequently if it comes to it." at which point, the observers usually slink back sheepishly.
Commander Agamemnon paused a while, eyes scanning around his squad's table for a moment
"That's enough for now." the bearded lizard said in a dry, almost mechanical sounding voice, "We'll meet in the hangar at sixteen-hundred hours for a maintenance check and another session."
With Memo's dismissal, the squad got up from the table, and many of them dispersed to do whatever it was they felt the need to do. Malloy got to James
"Hey McCloud." the cnaid said, getting his attention.
"Yeah?"
"See that pretty thing of a vixen over there?"
Malloy cocked his head in the direction of a nearby table where some others sat.
"She has been seriously checking you out the last few sessions, maybe longer."
"Really?" the fox asked, taking a quick look over at the table. Among them was a younger copper furred vixen sitting at the table, appearing hopelessly bored as she held up her head with elbows on the table.
Among the more regular audiences that the squad sometimes got was a loose gaggle of people that turned out to be a field crew from Lylat Tribune news. They were sent to Cerinia to shoot some footage, do a few interviews, and whatever else they do on location. The crew had a shuttle parked in the Amity's main hangar, but that kind of craft was hopelessly underpowered and understocked to make the long journey to Cerinia. So naturally, they hitched a ride with the Amity on one of its Cerinia Sauria runs.
"She just sits there and stares at you while we drill, ignoring everyone else at her table." Malloy explained further...
The crew from Lylat Tribune news were right there in the mess with the Caius Company squad, occupying a nearby table, numbering roughly a half-dozen. A few were trying desperately to strike up conversation at the table, but by now they'd probably exhausted all topics and were getting bored of each other's company.
"Can't say I blame her," James agreed as he looked over the table, "these long-haul milk runs are boring as–"
Both Jame's and Malloy's comms buzzed in their pockets, signaling an incoming call, which the two of them answered.
"Change in plans, gthe Captain has just put us on standby. " Commander Memo's cold, dry voice announced over the channel. "Meet up in the hangar immediately."
Just as suddenly as he called on them, the reptilian commander's voice cut out at the end of his communication; typical of him–
"The Amity is going to come under attack..."
The fox's heart skipped a few beats, Rick's warning ringing fresh in his mind's ear. He knew beyond a doubt this is when Harrow would strike.
"Shame." Malloy said with a slightly disappointed sigh as replaced his comm, "She looked looked like such a good prospect too."
The news crew group had all gotten up from their table and made their way to the exit. Among them was the copper furred vixen Malloy had pointed out, going right along with her home group to wherever they were heading next. For a brief moment however, James was certain she looked back through her curious emerald eyes, at him–
"The Amity is going to come under attack..."
The fox caught himself staring, and tore his fixated gaze away from her with a shake of his head.
"Maybe later." he blurted out.
"Hey, you alright McCloud?" Malloy asked, "You look like you've seen a ghost or something."
"Just a little nervous about this." James answered truthfully, "I'll be fine." he added, both to reassure Malloy and himself.
/
/
Captain Jacob Saru stepped through the sliding door onto the Amity's bridge, forcing his posture to remain in an upright position to preserve at least a bare semblance of presentability. He was a roughly mid-aged silvery haired ape, who in his current drab appearance didn't seem like a commanding type at all. At the moment, the only feature that confirmed his status as Captain instead of a tired passenger was a command headset jammed lopsidedly against his head, which Saru occasionally tapped and spoke into.
"Alright, I've put the flyboys on standby." the simian captain groaned to the bridge crew, "Now will somebody tell me why we've stopped?"
"See for yourself, Captain..."
The crewman who spoke nodded out of the front viewport from behind his station. When the captain stepped forward and saw what was out there, the ape's naturally reddish skin went a few shades more pale...
Some ways in front of the Amity was the darkened, hulking form of another ship, or at least what had once been a ship. There was no sunlight in deep-space, and the hopelessly distant stars only offered the faintest light. Only by the massive floodlights built into the Amity could the shape be discerned. The drifting, off-kilter derelict was pockmarked with several breaches, gaping wounds where the metal hull peeled away from the ship's framework like a fruit skin, exposing the decks and once-functioning compartments inside.
It was silent, cold, and not simply by of the vacuum of space or the absence of a sun. There was no comm signal or any signal transmission, no heat from its lifeless reactor or other backup systems, no light from the darkened windows, and no movement beyond the occasional piece of orbiting debris. On close enough inspection, some of the floating pieces turned out to be bodies; beings killed and forever preserved, frozen in their final moments of terror by the ever pervasive nothingness that is the vacuum of space.
"It must be the Sojourn." the crewman stated in a chilled, icy voice as he gazed over the dead ship. "She never made it back from Cerinia, and now we see why."
"How long will it take to calculate a new jump solution?" Captain Saru asked, his voice choppy, sounding more forced than he first thought.
"For a shot to Cerinia? Could be a few hours–"
"That's too long." the captain interrupted, "Just get us out of here– anywhere– do the jump blind."
"It'll still take about a half hour to reset the jump drive."
"Start on it now, and make the jump as soon as you can..."
Though frightened to his very core, the fearful tension seemed to reignite Captain Saru's long dormant authority. When he looked out, it was with a cold and calculating gleam, but glazed over with an inescapable sense of dread.
"I don't like this."
/
/
In a mere manner of minutes, the Caius Company squad had changed out of casual clothing into their uniform flight suits. They were all scattered throughout the Amity's main hangar deck, where six identical fightercaft sat lined up in a neat row. Each pilot attended to their own craft, running through a pre-flight checklist and performing any necessary maintenance as it turned up.
The fighters were Fortuna Foundries Tatpara-27, a highly versatile craft with powerful engines and equally powerful armament, designed to hit fast and hit hard; ideal traits for the quick-deploy escort role as was the case aboard the Amity.
James McCloud sat in the cockpit of one Tatpara-27, the control panel in front of him alive and lit-up with the fighter's avionics suite. And the pilot's headset wrapping around his head spoke with the voices of his squadmates.
"The captain is a little spooked by the shipwreck obstructing the route, causing our sudden drop from warp." Commander Agamemnon informed over the comm to his squad, "He wants us out there to cover the Amity while she resets her jump-drive."
"So we're like what, a security blanket for a scared little kid?" Malloy asked, bordering on a tone of mockery.
"More like an insurance policy, Malloy." Memo retorted with his usual cold, even voice, "Pirate activity is known to occur along the Cerinia/Sauria route."
"At least they're paying for this security blanket." another squad member chimed in, without much response.
"All craft ready for launch?" Commander Agamemnon asked with a tone of formality.
The reptilian received his response in a small chorus of affirmatives from the other members of the squad, and all the canopies of the Caius Company fighters sealed shut in anticipation.
"Head out."
The fighters all lifted off the hangar deck, and taxied their way toward the containment barrier that separated the inside of the hangar from the speckled black nothing of space; all but one fighter that is.
Jame's fighter remained airborne for about a second, before a sharp crack from deep within the Tatpara-27 shook the craft to its core, and dropped back to the deck. Thankfully the landing gear was still deployed, and prevented any structural damage...
"McCloud? What's your status?" Memo inquired while the rest of the squad passed outside.
"The reactor regulator just blew-out!" the fox answered as his hands feverishly flew over his control panel, "I don't understand, I checked everything, and–"
"I don't need excuses, McCloud." the reptilian commander interrupted, but his voice didn't have any trace of annoyance, just decisiveness. "I need you to address the issue promptly, and then join us as quickly as you can. You can give me a formal debriefing later."
"Yeah, yeah."
/
/
Commander Agamemnon watched intently as James McCloud closed out of the squad's channel. The young fox was nervous, it showed, and this was his first major assignment as a part of Caius Company. The reptilian commander was not especially annoyed or angered by this snag, though he had every right to be, he simply curious. It was never about whether one fails or not– failure is an eventual inevitability that everyone must face. What truly mattered is how one dealt with failure when they are confronted with it. The actions taken in response to failure will tell infinitely more about an individual than any measure of unimpeded success.
The dead wreck of the came quickly into view as the squad cleared the Amity, the drifting husk of the Sojourn hanging over the scene like a bad omen.
"Anyone else got a sick feeling about all this?" Dodge asked over the squad's comm, clearly nervous.
"Only from the slop they serve up in the galley." Malloy chided back, but even he sounded somewhat uneasy behind his sarcasm.
"Contact!" Su, the ursine announced urgently, "We have a contact!"
Sure enough, a single craft emerged from the drifting wreck. It was a light freighter of simple design, but painted completely in matte black with no identifying markings whatsoever. If it weren't for the fighters' scanning equipment and HUD displays, the craft just might've gone completely unnoticed, disappearing amidst the black void of space. But the freighter instead rode out to meet the squad with confidence, and for all intents and purposes, didn't really pose much of a threat.
Commander Agamemnon opened up a hailing channel.
"Unknown craft, identify yourself immediately."
Silence.
"Identify yourself," Memo repeated firmly, "or we will fire upon you as per Interpatrol protocol–"
He was cut off by a sharp hiss of static, joined quickly by the clamor of alarms, and a squealing clattering cacophony from deep within the belly of his Tatpara-27 fightercraft. The reptilian commander scrambled to begin a diagnostic check; reactor regulator blown out, fuel leak, generator overload–
Cutting through everything else came a voice; a malevolent, vicious voice that came from simultaneously from everywhere at once, and nowhere at all.
We are Harrow
There was a brief, brilliant burst of white light, and then there was nothing.
/
/
James McCloud stood next to the crippled Tatpara-27 inside the Amity's hangar. There was a tool kit by his feet, an access panel at the rear of the fighter flipped open, and the fox's arms buried elbows deep inside the machine's inner workings, probing the great machine for answers. He found that answer, and stopped frozen in horror before slowing drawing back and away from the craft.
The damage to the fighter's reactor regulation circuits had all the signs of a tiny explosive charge, no larger than a landmine's detonator. The hole in the metal casing box had either flash-melted, or peeled away from the detonation point, and the sensitive monitoring equipment inside reduced to useless slag.
It was sabotage.
"...we suspect they have spies planted aboard the Amity to help coordinate the coming attack."
Jame's heart started to pound faster, and breath seized up altogether. He glanced around the hangar bay, assessing his immediate surroundings: several shuttles and smaller spacecraft, mostly belonging to some of the Amity's passengers. Hangar control booth sat perched where it always was.
The fox reactivated the comm in his headset, and called out his warning.
"Commander Agamemnon..."
The call was answered only by the hiss of static. James expanded the frequency range of his headset to include the full spectrum of comm channels.
"This is James McCloud of Caius Company." he tried again, "Can anyone read me?"
Nothing...
All the frequencies were being jammed, making the headset useless for communication. The fox's anxious hand dropped down to the handgun holster clinging to his thigh for dear life. He looked to hangar control again, there was an intercom system in there he could use to contact the Amity's captain and crew, assess the situation, and make preparations if need-be.
Armed with a plan, James opened a storage compartment in the hull of the crippled Tatpara-27, from which he extracted an assault carbine and a few extra mags. Just as he was about to head toward Hangar control, something streaked past the hangar, outside the containment barrier. It might've been another spacecraft, it might've been the shadows playing an illusion, or it might've been all in his head.
Whatever the case was, he wasn't going to be distracted by it, not now. What was more troubling than something suspicious happening, however, was the list of things not happening. There was no alarm that should've sounded at the first sign of trouble, there was no announcement over the shipwide PA system to update their status, and the hangar manager hadn't emerged from the control booth to ascertain James' situation as would have been normal if wireless comm was rendered unusable.
"...we suspect they have spies planted aboard the Amity to help coordinate the coming attack."
Rick's warning rang all the more clear in the fox's head as he came to the entrance to hangar control, and punched in the access code that would allow him inside.
The door opened on the control booth, and an eerie silence was all there was to greet him on the other side. The consoles were all still active, the gentle whir and hum of the equipment carrying on without a single care, but there was no one to watch over it all, as there was supposed to.
Carbine at the ready, James slowly entered the control booth, located the primary console and activated its intercom function, selecting the bridge. The console obeyed, but a response from the bridge did not arrive. The screen simply read [Stand By]...
[Stand By]...
[Stand By]...
[Stand By]...
Finally, the simian face of the Amity's captain appeared on the console's screen.
"Captain Saru, this is James McCloud of Caius Company–"
"Where is chief Mathis?" the ape asked coldly, far more forced than James knew the captain was normally
"Hangar control is deserted, and the comm is noised out" the fox answered, "What's the situation, Captain?"
"Under control..."
He was lying for sure, but clearly not by choice.
"The... communications malfunction is nothing to worry about. It's probably just a radiation leak from the wreck interfering with the signal–"
"Another ship just dropped in!" a voice from off-screen shouted.
"What?"
There were a few scrambling figures in the background, but impossible to make out clearly.
"They're powering up weapons!"
"Evasive action, or something! Get this tub moving–"
A massive jolt sent the floor beneath James careening to one side, throwing him clear off his feet like a rag-doll. An agonized metallic scream ripped through the ship's bulkheads and structure, the Amity's cry of pain in response to attack; weapons fire. This was quickly joined by the wail of alarms, and another sound: a grunt of pain and a clack of a weapon hitting the ground, and neither were Jame's.
The fox lay sprawled on the floor of hangar control, his assault carbine knocked a couple meters out of reach. He looked up at the source of the other noises, and found a bleach-white wolf laying on his side, very close, and a handgun on the floor out of reach. The two exchanged a furious glare for a moment, and sprung into action.
James scrambled to his feet, drawing his blaster handgun out of the hip holster and arming it. But by the time he was ready to fire, the would-be lupine assassin had already flipped expertly up onto his feet and was making a run for it. McCloud managed to fire a few shots at the retreating figure, but they all missed, and he made it out the door. James started to pursue, but stopped short, seeing something even more alarming develop–
Outside the control booth window, in the hangar itself, a shuttle was just pulling into the hangar. It was a sturdy, robust model, armed a set of forward-firing heavy laser cannons and a dorsal mounted turret that swiveled around searching for a target. The newcomer craft quickly set down on the deck, next to the crippled Tatpara-27 fighter. A small group soon emerged thereafter, too distant to make out clearly, and headed for the exit.
With only a moment's hesitation, James scooped up the assault carbine and headed for the hangar bay. The blaring alarms and flashing warning lights continued on throughout, flooding the short run to the hangar with a disorienting cascade of sounds and light. He did his best to focus though, ignoring the extra noises, disregarding the flash of warning lights. Otherwise, there was little trouble returning to the hangar deck entrance.
The fox punched the 'open' command into the door's panel, and it slid open obediently–
* Boom! *
James ducked to the side, and a spray of metal pellets from the shotgun blast splattered against the wall opposite the door. By all rights he should've been killed by an ambush like that, which meant–
"The next one's not gonna be a warning shot!" A voice shouted from inside the hangar. It was male, a little higher pitched, but not at all young.
Adrenaline rushing and heart racing, the fox focused in on the tactical choices. He crept out and aimed the assault carbine around the corner–
a hand shot out from the other side of the corner to grab the carbine's barrel, yanking it forward and James with it. The weapon spewed a stream of shots as it was pulled forward, and ultimately out of the fox's hand before skidding away on the hangar deck. In the same instant came an hard impact in Jame's gut that knocked the wind out of him, making him keel forward at the sudden shock.
He didn't even have a chance to recover, as a moment later, another bow hammered down on the fox's back like a pile-driver between the shoulder blades, sending James sprawling onto the floor. Then a weight came down on top of him, pinning him face-down to the ground, while the razor-sharp edge of a blade jammed itself under his neck, sealing the deal.
"Hold it!" the first voice shouted again.
A series of heavy footfalls came closer and closer across the deck, from the direction of the voice. The angle Jame's head was forced into only allowed him to see the metal hangar deck floor. In a few moments though, he could see the edge of a black, ankle-length coat floating mere inches above the ground, and a pair of heavily reinforced boots inside it, which came to a stop just in front of the fox's nose.
"You're the McCloud kid, right?" the voice asked from above.
"What's it matter to you?" James managed to spit out from his helpless position.
"Name's Adrian Crane, and the Cooneys send their regards..." and a plumed avian hand reached down, open to the fox. "Let him go, Chakori."
"You're going to get hit hard out there, harder than you'll be expected to survive from . . . but you'll have backup."
The blade retreated from his throat, and the weight that was pinning him down lifted away. James grabbed the hand held out to him, and hoisted himself onto his feet.
Adrian Crane turned out to be a very slim blue-gray avian with long, white, hair-like plumage running down from his head, gathered in a rough ponytail. He wore a long black ankle-length coat with several pockets and a pair of heavy black boots. Over his left forearm was an advanced wrist-mounted computer attached like a bracer, and on his was a comm headset with partial HUD capabilities. The avian also had a wicked looking combat shotgun slung over one shoulder, and what appeared to be handgun sidearm in a belt-holster inside his coat.
"To be honest, I thought we were gonna bump into you outside, flying around in that sucker." Adrian thumbed over his shoulder at the crippled Tatpara-27.
"The reactor regulator's been slagged by a small explosive charge, just before takeoff..."
The fox looked back at his fighter, and thought he saw someone moving behind it.
"I'm thinking sabotage."
"The rest of your squad is gone; nothing but torn-apart wrecks." a woman's voice filled-in, somewhat affected in an exotic Fortunan accent, "Regulators destroyed mid-flight would have done it..."
The other figure, Chakori as she was called, stepped around in front of James. She was a fierce looking ash-gray leopardess who wore a set of sturdy combat fatigues, including some lightweight body armor. She was just sheathing a heavy, forward deflected knife back into its scabbard, but also carried a modular assault rifle strapped tight across her back, and a handgun in a military-style thigh holster.
"By Karma, it seems you were spared from their fate."
"Karma, or a lousy detonator mechanism..."
Adrian turned over his shoulder toward the shuttle he came in on, and called out to someone behind him.
"Hey! Pigma!"
"Yo!" a young voice responded, ringing trough the hangar bay.
A portly pink-skinned figure then scurried out from the two spacecraft parked side-by-side. He was young, terribly young, too young to be involved in any of this by most standards, but there he was nonetheless. The round-faced swine wore a cargo vest, toting a bursting-full tool kit by a shoulder strap, its many contents rattling and jingling as he ran across the hangar deck.
"Pigma, this is James McCloud. James, Pigma Dengar, and you've already met Chakori Uncia–"
Adrian ran through the names quickly, making a quick sweeping gesture as he did.
"Formal introductions are gonna have to wait; change in plans." The dark-clad avian turned away from James as he gave instructions to Pigma, "See what you can do about McCloud's ride. We'll need it later."
"The T-27? I already got a quick look at it, should be a snap." He turned to James, "Say, where do you guys keep spare parts for those birds around here?"
James eyed the enthused swine with a curious eye –somewhere between bewildered and suspicious– and answered, "They're... in the machine shop at the other end of the hangar..." he pointed the location out, "look for the bins labeled CC, T-27."
"Say no more, man. I'll have your bird flight-savvy before ." And as quickly as he showed up and popped in, Pigma left for the Hangar machine shop.
"Come on, McCloud." Adrian headed for the exit, gesturing for James to follow, "We don't have a whole lot of time, and looks you'll get to help out–"
Something hard nudged against Jame's arm. He turned to see what it was, and found Chakori holding the assault carbine out to him.
"You may want this." she said while James took his weapon back. "May fortune favor you."
"Sure, thanks." He simply gave the ashen leopardess a quick nod of acknowledgement, and continued on his way.
Adrian stood impatiently at the hangar entrance, waiting for the fox to join him. When he did, the avian unslung the combat shotgun, prepared it, and started down the corridor with James in tow.
"The op is simple: we get to ship's computer mainframe, and then I hack into it."
"So what happens after that?"
"Eh..." Adrian replied with a shrug,"It depends, really–"
He cut himself short, and held a couple fingers up to his headset, listening.
"And speaking of: Scott just took out the jamming array outside. Lets get you patched in..."
/
/
Captain Saru was bound and gagged, tied to one of the chairs on the Amity's meager bridge. Two others scrambled frantically from station to station. One was an ordinary canid with a dark muzzle and face-fur ranging between shades of black, brown and goldenrod; the other was of a brutish Saurian race, sharpclaw tribe by the look of him. Both were armed with blaster handguns, and wore ordinary civilian clothing, though the Saurian's outfit didn't seem to fit quite right–
The bridge's comm monitor started flashing and chiming, alerting to an incoming hail.
"Answer it..." the canid instructed, arming his weapon and bringing it to bear on Captain Saru.
The larger saurian shuffled over to the comm monitor, and brought up the main screen in the front of the bridge.
"Hello there. How are you?" an older ram greeted, the russet fur of his rugged face seeming to have grayed over some time, "I'm Malcolm Aries, captain of this vessel Cerberus. Would one of you fine gentlemen mind telling me who's in charge here?..."
He looked to the Canid holding the simian captain at gunpoint.
"Is it you?"
"Why the hell did you fire on us?" he snarled back.
"That is a wonderfully simple question, but with an unfortunately complicated answer that I'm not at liberty to tell you anything about."
The canid jammed his handgun against Saru's skull, fuming at the ram's answer.
"I will execute every pitiful soul aboard this ship if you don't–"
"Hey, buddy, why don't you take a good look at me; not on your comm monitor there, out the viewport. That's right..."
The sinister mass of Cerberus gently rose up just outside the main bridge viewport, staring down the Amity with its huge, oversized plasma cannon.
"If you and I are going to start swapping threats, then... you see this little old plasma cannon here? It just tore up your engines like a scrap of tissue paper, and it's more than capable of tearing up the rest of the Amity with just a few extra shots. Go ahead: shoot up the entire population aboard, and I'll shoot up that ship with you and your cronies aboard."
"You don't care about the innocent lives aboard?" the canid asked, suspicious, "You don't care if I kill them?"
"If I cared about the people aboard, I wouldn't have shot you up in the first place." Malcolm answered, "It's just a hell of a lot easier to deal with you all while you're alive and kicking and the ship's in one piece instead of sifting through a busted up husk like you got out here."
"You have no claim to this ship!" the Saurian butted in, "We were here first!"
"And I'm one button away from sending you to the afterlife first." Malcolm twirled an index finger in the air before bringing it to a stop, pointing at the canid through the comm monitor, "So I'd recommend a swift reconsideration of your position if you want to make it out of this breathing."
The mottled canid gestured to his reptilian colleague to calm down, then returned his attention to the ram.
"Maybe... we can come to some sort of deal." he postulated over the comm, "We can all walk away from this alive, and richer, if we cooperate."
"That's the spirit!" Malcolm cheered, then switched into a serious, more demanding tone "First off: you can take whatever list of demands you think you have, and stuff them up your tailpipe. You won't need them."
The canid nodded with a reluctant grunt, "Done–"
He was cut off abruptly when the saurian stepped in, and whispered something in his ear. His expression changed from irked and frustrated, to outraged and fuming.
"You sent a party aboard!"
"And what if I did?" the older ram replied with a shrug "What're you gonna do about it?"
The brutish saurian leered back through the comm, gnashing his sharp teeth as he spat out, "When I get my claws on those brats you sent aboard, I will make them, and you, regret ever having the idiotic gall to interfere with Harrow."
Outside the main bridge viewport, a glint of metal swooped around the vast silhouette of Cerberus, until it started growing larger, coming straight at the Amity's bridge. It was a fightercraft, and not a small interceptor either.
The mottled canid tried to deactivate the comm channel, but the instrument panel didn't respond, leaving Malcolm's smug face smiling back at the two hapless mutineers.
"Pleasure doing business with you."
Twin lances of heavy blasterfire tore into the Amity's bridge with a titaninc roar of rent metal, shattered glass, and air being ripped away into the emptiness of space in one last death-cry.
And then there was nothing.
/
/
His comm suddenly crackled with the empty white-noise hiss of static. The others on the bridge were gone.
He was a harsh looking wolf-type canid with bleach-white fur and keen violet eyes, dressed in a rugged workman's that identified him as 'Hangar Maintenance Crew'. In one of his hands was a sturdy blaster handgun, while the other held a short range two-way comm handset up to his ear. He deactivated the hissing comm and stashed it in a pocket, then looked back up at his targets.
He'd tracked the two through the Amity to the ship's computer mainframe. One was a thin technically minded avian, while the other was the vulpine fighter pilot who'd escaped death, twice. The avian had gone in alone, leaving his fox companion outside to stand guard.
Kill them a voice in his head ordered.
He'd have to act fast. His cover had been blown for the fox, who would instantly identify the pale furred canid as the one who nearly killed him. With him out of the way, the slim avian would be none the wiser once he approached–
A gruff, unfamiliar voice boomed over the ship-wide PA system.
"Attention crew and passengers of the Amity: this is Captain Malcolm Aries of Cerberus. As I'm sure you're aware, you've had a little run-in with pirate types. The pirate forces outside have been neutralized for the moment, but the Amity has been disabled in their attack, and Captain Saru killed. You have a chance now to evacuate to safety aboard my ship, and I urge you take it. Those of you who want to leave, go to the main hangar bay now. You'll find enough shuttles there to make the transfer over to Cerberus. For those of you who'd rather take your chances aboard a crippled ship, there's really nothing I can do to force you off."
Kill them now the voice ordered, far more urgent now And kill all who attempt to flee
"How many are left?" the wolf asked aloud in a whisper. It was always more comforting to hear his own voice respond, so he knew it was actually him who was speaking, and not the other in his head.
There are enough
"I need a number." he insisted.
The thin, black-clad avian emerged from the mainframe, and started down the corridor back to the hangar bay.
Numbers are meaningless when so few can wreak so much havoc
"Then forget it." he said with an air of finality, "This raid has failed."
Coward
"I'll take coward over idiot any day."
There is nowhere you can run where you can escape
"Try me."
/
/
James McCloud and Adrian Crane returned to the Amity's main hangar bay with most of the passengers and crew, which numbered somewhere between thirty and forty. For the most-part, they all seemed to be feeling some combination of frightened, relieved, and a little hesitation as they boarded the shuttles.
Amidst the hubbub of movement as all this happened, James caught someone taking a long look at him. It was the same younger copper furred vixen that had been ogling him earlier. She seemed just as frightened and uncertain as everyone else around her, but upon seeing James, she took a deep breath, and breathed a sigh of relief, then continued on her way with assurance–
Then he saw something else that made his fur stand up and pulse quicken. The white wolf-canid who'd nearly killed him back in hangar control was right there among the crew and passengers.
When he found one of Cerberus's crew –Chakori in this case– and informed her what was going on, she simply responded to the fox's concerns with a confident smirk, "That's good, very good in-fact."
"That's good?" James asked, puzzled.
"It is." the ashen leopardess nodded, "We anticipated some would try to slip onto our ship that way; we can detain him once everyone is aboard and we're underway. We'll question him then, and if there are others, we will root them out as well."
The hangar soon emptied of the Amity's crew and passengers, leaving just James, Chakori and Adrian alone on the deck.
The dark-clad avian approached the other two.
"Alright, that's the last of them." He turned to James, "Dengar's got your ride all set to go. We'll need you and Scott to cover the shuttles while we make the transfer, just in case there are a few more lurkers out there waiting for an easy target."
James nodded quietly, and made his way to the repaired Tatpara-27. In a few more moments, the fully loaded shuttles and Jame's fightercraft lifted off the hangar floor, and proceeded out of the Amity for Cerberus. If there were any lingering pirate forces outside, they'd chosen not to attack, and let everyone board the mercenary cruiser before it finally jumped away from what was gradually becoming a graveyard...
To Be Continued.
/
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Author notes:
Okay, so it's not your usual run-'n-gun blazing action chapter, but that's in a way the point. This is an even further setup for what's still to come.
Those who've read the first edition might recognize a certain character I've brought back, and he's back in a big way this time around.
As always, your feedback is welcomed here.