Chapter Five


        The Gryffen glided through third space towards the space station Alliance. Like the Lady Hawke, she was built to be invisible to scanners and to the naked eye. Foxy and Tech had searched months for a suitable metallic alloy that could render her unseen and provide the maximum protection on her outer hull. They had finally chosen Derftoof, a substance normally nearly as brittle as glass, but it became the strongest metal in the known universe when frozen to certain temperatures. Engineers had toyed with it for years, hoping to find a way to build a ship from it without any success. Derftoof was normally too brittle to shape and it would not melt, dissolving instead into a fine powder. Tech had finally conceived of a way to freeze it, then soften it to the point of malleability, and then refreeze it so it would never crack. The result was a handful of ships built in a revolutionary new way.
    Her design was also revolutionary. She was built pyramidal with a concaved rear. Her bridge has been built midway up one of the three sides while her engines were tucked into the concave for protection. So far, she had been in nine dogfights and had survived each one with minimal damage. What she couldn't outmaneuver or out gun, she could outrun. With extra propulsion chambers hidden in several sections, she could easily outdistance any fleet or pirate craft that dared challenge her. Not, that Foxy ever ran from a fight. She had had quite a reputation as a pilot in the old days before she formed the Pax.                                                                                    At the moment, Foxy sat in the captains' chair in the small bridge of the Gryffen. Angel was sprawled nearby in the navigators seat, contemplating several readouts. Tech had disappeared into the cargo hold of the ship with some vague explanation of preparing for the inevitable. Juana, the last member of their crew, moved back in forth behind Foxy and Angel, doing various jobs. Occasionally she would stop to complain.
    “I still don't understand why you insist on stopping at Alliance,” Juana muttered as she ran the COM scans.
    Foxy sighed while Angel laughed silently to herself. This argument had been going on for several hours.
    “As I said before,” she began, close to losing her patience, “I have certain contacts on the Alliance right now that I must speak with while I have the opportunity. However, it should not take very long, so we will be back on course in a day or two.”
    “I still think, getting that stupid thing to the Hyperions before were all doomed is a tiny bit more important then contacting some thug so you can purchase some 'item necessary for the guild's expansion.' One would think the fact that war is coming, and its now even closer thanks to us, would be more pressing.”
    “Juana,” Foxy growled through clenched teeth.
    “Yes?”
    “You're not allowed to talk anymore.”
    Angel shook her head at them then rose to her feet.
    “Tech has gotten himself stuck behind the propulsion core again, I'm going to retrieve him,” she said as she stalked silently towards the door.
    “Fine,” Foxy replied, “but Angel?”
    “What.”
    “Leave the sword, you'll be too tempted.”
    As the doors closed, the sword came flying back to land stuck in the back of her chair.
***************************************************

    The door to Nightshade's office swished open with a distinct thud and Cyber swept in, already panicking.
    “I can't reach them, I can't reach them. I've been trying for an hour but there's no response,” she fairly shouted as sank into a chair near Nightshade's desk. She immediately leapt up again and began pacing.
    Used to Cyber's occasional bouts of hysteria, Nightshade closed the image being projected before her and switched her attention to the agitated marten.        
    “By them you mean Foxy's crew,” she said as she leisurely stood and walked to her window.
    “Of course. I have been trying to reach them to warn them, but nothing. I'm getting worried.”
    Cyber wasn't getting anything. She was already into a full-fledged panic.
    “Calm down, calm down. Now, what exactly did you need to warn them about?”
    “Foxy told me to warn them if any new developments happen. Well something huge has just happened. We have got to reach them as soon as possible, before it's too late!”
    From the way Cyber's voice had just rose two octaves, Nightshade started to realize she was truly worried.
    “Okay, we'll get a hold of Foxy, don't worry. Now what has happened?”
    “You are not going to believe this but…well…”
********************************************

    “They did what,” Artran thundered at the poor aide who had
brought him the brief. “Impossible, absolutely impossible. Not even the Council would do something this foolish!”
        The poor aide cowered beneath the wrath of the High Commander. Usually considered a fair-minded and somewhat even-tempered man, whatever that brief had contained had sent him into an extreme rage.
        “Dismissed,” Artran growled at the nameless young ensign who scrambled from the room, glad for the escape.
    The brief in his hand crumpled as he clenched his fists. At times Artran was firmly convinced the High Council selected its members on based on their lack of intelligence and their latest decision confirmed it. The Republic had only left port two days ago and had already transmitted two positive progress reports but obviously that had not satisfied the imbeciles. They had authorized the Coordinator of Defense to set a reward for the recovery of weapon and/or any information that might lead to its recovery. To compound their immense stupidity, a bounty had also been issued for the capture of the terrorists, dead or alive.
    The reward was bad enough. The Federation offices were going to be flooded with false information from every opportunist in the galaxy hoping to make a quick cred. While the Federation could possibly afford to pay, the bounty was going to cause disasters. Every thug, assassin, and general lowlife was going to try and take advantage of it. Innocent lives would be placed in danger not to mention the lives of his officers out there searching for the terrorists.
    Furious at Council for placing his men (and his son) in even more danger, unnecessary danger, he tossed the brief in the recycling bin and stalked out of the office. He needed to reach Neran and Lt. Grenem and warn them of this latest development. If anything should happen to any of them because of this piece of stupidity, he would personally hunt down all the members of the Council, he vowed to himself as he stalked down the hallway.
**************************************************

    “Sir, we're being urgently hailed on a gold sub-frequency,” came over the link of Neran as he studied some reports in the privacy of his quarters.
    Sighing silently, he acknowledged his COM officer and headed for the bridge where a very unpleasant surprise waited for him. Drellem was already up there, muttering to himself. Neran took the brief from his hand and read it. Swearing, he threw himself into the captain's chair and began to recite the Military Creed to calm down.
    “Such was my feeling to,” Drellem said calmly to his captain.
    That comment brought a smile to Neran's face, albeit briefly. Drellem was a Mei-Wun, a religious order that dictated serenity and acceptance over all things. It was rare that he showed anger or even aggravation. Mei-Wunen permitted themselves to be amused, sad, or happy but that was about it. Almost immediately his mind returned to information in the brief.
    “This will make things immeasurably harder,” he finally said to Drellem.
    “We've dealt with worse. Remember Kydil 4. No one thought we would come out of there alive but we did.”
    “True, true. I suppose I had better inform the Ambassador of this latest development, no doubt he will have something to say about it. He's done nothing but complain since he came onboard.”
    “Of a certain. I would offer you luck on your task but my people don't believe in such things. Besides, you will need more then that to deal with our demanding Ambassador.”
    “Thanks,” Neran muttered sarcastically as he left the bridge.
*************************************************

    Lt. Grenem shifted uncomfortably next to the lupine. They had sat in dead silence since boarding the rather unorthodox spacecraft. Lupine were apparently minimalists at heart, something that was reflected in their engineering. The entire ship was built with everything installed in the walls. Every console, COM unit, and even the beds slide out from the walls for usage. Along the way, though, the designers had crammed so much into the walls that chairs were not possible. Instead, little plastiform slabs slid out to sit on. The beds were not much better.
    Despite the lack pillows (and bedding) it was an amazing ship. The minimalist ideal had led the ship makers to make the craft compact but fast and amazingly powerful. Its engines ran completely silent and, as far as Grenem could tell, there was no signature emissions coming from the ship it all. Nor were there any markings on the ship, inside or out. None of the consoles were marked as to what they did. Obviously, you had to be Lupine to fly the ship; otherwise you would be completely clueless.
    Since Grenem wasn't a lupine, he had pretty much nothing to do. The lupine wasn't talking and Grenem was fairly certain he would not welcome a conversational starter. Surprisingly enough, the lupine turned to him and spoke.
    “We have received a transmission from your people. If you would like to read, look at the screen to your right,” he said without glancing at the lieutenant.
    Startled, Grenem glanced over at the screen and was floored at what he read. Surely the Council could not have approved such a stupid move. From the official mark at the bottom, they had. This was going to make things a whole lot more difficult, he thought, not that he didn't have enough problems. His mission was most likely doomed from the start and he still wasn't convinced the lupine wasn't going to smite him and dump his body in an asteroid field. Now he had to share the latest news with his silent 'comrade'.
    “A foolish move,” the lupine finally responded to the news. “This will make things more difficult.”
    Grenem nodded, strangely happy. He was not solitary by nature and long silences bothered him. Perhaps this would provide the opening needed for communication to occur.
    “But then, your Federation is known for making dumb decisions.”
Perhaps not.
    “The Federation makes decisions based on a multitude of reasons, some of which are not as apparently obvious,” Grenem began. “Often the directives of the High Council have much more important and far reaching implications.”
    “Do they train you to spout that kind of rhetoric?”
    “Yes,” he replied decisively, until he realized what he said. “Uh… I mean no, of course not.”
    The lupine merely looked at him.
    “At the Academy we're trained to always bolster the image of the Federation,” Grenem finally admitted.
    A nod was his only response.
    “Do your people have such a policy,” Grenem questioned, hoping to break the renewed silence.
    “No.”
    “I see. Do they have something like the Academy, a place for military learning?”
    “My people do not institutionalize learning. We find it lowers the value of the education.”
    “Uh-huh. I did not know that. To be honest, I don't know much about your people. They don't have much to do with the Federation.”
    There was silence for several minutes. Grenem kicked himself for such a stupid and obvious comment. Now the lupine would shut up again and they would be back in an awkward silence. But again, the lupine surprised him.
    “My race has been around for a long time,” he began “longer then most realize. Once we were part of a larger race, a magnificent race that lived and ruled at the center of the universe, or so we believed. We lived in huge dens often with our brother race. Our people numbered in the trillions upon trillions, spread out over two-dozen planets and many colonies and outposts. We were an exploratory race, always looking to travel new places. At times it seemed we would map the universe, but we didn't want to conquer it.”
    “Though all my own race were part of a warrior class, overall we were peaceful. We didn't threaten other races unless they threatened us. Mostly we lived in harmony with those we encountered. We saw ourselves as model for the younger races, something for them to strive for, the perfect race. We were arrogant, yes, but sure of our own immense ability. Perhaps that was our downfall.”
    “Another race came, attacked without warning. They were strong, a match for us. We saw quickly that the battle could be long and terrible, so evenly were we matched. We tried to forego the endless war before it started and contacted them. They refused to communicate with us so negotiation was out of the question. Nor would they take prisoners. It was a slaughter.”
    “Early on in the war it was decided we had to protect our civilian outposts. They formed huge guards from the warrior classes and sent them to protect the colonies. My people, the lupine, were among those chosen. We were given the task of guarding a small system of outposts but, by the time we arrived, they had already been laid to waste. Nearly a cycles worth of ships had been sent to guard these people and we were ambushed as soon as we arrived.”
    “While most of our ships were destroyed, the crew survived. We reformed on the planets and set to rebuilding our ships. Eventually we reached other lupine colonies, results of other ambushes, but nowhere could the other races be found. Finally my people returned to our original system, to our homeworld, a glorious place. It was gone.”
    “Gone?”
    “Completely destroyed. Most of the system had been laid waste to and what was left indicated a titanic battle had taken place. We concluded that the enemy must have been destroyed but at the price of our own people. We could find no refugees, no matter where we looked. What was left of the lupines settled a small plant on the outer system until they could grow strong enough to come here to our new world. Here we set up a new society, in memory of what we had lost.”
    “In all this time you have never found another surviving race?”
    “The universe is a huge place, this we knew well. If they lived, they could have gone anywhere and they would not know to look for us. Our ships were badly damaged in those ambushes, although we did more damage to the enemy. Without any contact from us, they probably assumed we had died. Perhaps, someday we will come across another from our old worlds, but there is little hope.”
    “How horrible for your people, all of them.”
    “We have learned to survive. It was a long time ago.”
    “So you said, but it has to be an important part of your history, you talk about it like it just happened.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Your constant use of the word 'we'.”
“    My people have a collective consciousness, each persons memories add to the whole which is passed onto the next generation.”
    “Incredible,” Grenem finally replied, shocked. A thing like that ensured that each generation knew and felt the anguish of their past. Their history would never be forgotten. It was an amazing idea to a Caniscan whose racial history could barely be traced beyond the first occupation of the Geai. Most of their past had been forgotten in time.
**********************************************

    Cyber paced back and forth across the dark rug in her command center (as she liked to call it) while Nightshade and Ravyn debated what to do next. Mayhem hovered in the corner behind them, fiddling with some unseen gadget, also trying to help. The combined efforts of all four of them had produced nothing. No matter what they tried, no one could reach the Gryffen and they had been trying for a while.
    It was becoming increasingly more apparent to Ravyn that something bad had happened to the Gryffen. Foxy may have decided to maintain COM silence but they had been hailing her on the special sub-frequencies that she would not have ignored. Somehow, she was being prevented from responding, Ravyn had concluded. That meant the Gryffen and her crew were in trouble.
    “We don't know that for sure,” Nightshade pointed out, trying to be voice of reason amongst the wild speculation that was occurring.
    “Maybe, but you can't come up with a better explanation for why we can't reach them,” Ravyn replied, sure of her reasoning. “None of them would have ignored our messages, not on the channels we were using. Therefore, they must be unable to answer and most likely in danger.”
    “We KNOW they are in danger,” Cyber cut in, frustrated. “Look at the reports I have been receiving. All over the Federation, reports are flooding in about rioting, murders, and false information. Every planet, outpost, and stations is running wild because of those &@#%! rewards.”
    “So maybe they are laying low,” Nightshade responded, trying everyone calm.        “We don't know anything for sure, yet. Until have something definite to go on, we shouldn't panic.”
    “So what do you propose we do,” Ravyn muttered, rather snidely. She was sure the others needed assistance, despite how logical Nightshade sounded.
    “Cyber continues to try to contact them. Meanwhile, we'll contact some of our other people and set them to looking, someone will know something; nothing stays a secret in the Federation. In the meantime, we keep this from Silver. She's already feeling guilty enough and we don't needed to worry her any further.”
    Surprisingly, Mayhem agreed with her.
    “Nightshade's plan makes sense. Besides, we do not need Silver rushing off and causing more trouble,” he concurred.
    None of them saw the feline crouched next to the door, mostly because she didn't want to be seen. Silver had known something was going on and this proved it. So, they want to keep me in the dark, she thought to herself, can't have me wandering around causing trouble. Well, I'll just make sure they don't know I'm gone.
**************************************************

    Silver slunk silently down the corridor, towards the lower hanger. As far as anyone knew, she left to supervise a run to the Mainlands, and wouldn't be back for several days. This would give her plenty of time to disappear and look for the Gryffen. She had a fairly good idea where they had been headed and a hold on several of High Guard officers, in case the need arose for a rescue attempt.
    Slipping quietly through the small side door, she circle around her ship, releasing the restraints. A part of her wished Tech was there with her. The Lady Hawke could conceivably be flown with a crew of one, but she had gotten used to having him as her co-pilot.
    “And just where do you think your going,” the voice rang out from across the landing pad, jarring Silver. Only one person could sneak up on her.
    “Ravyn,” she said without even turning around, “I wasn't going anywhere. I was merely checking my ship for any damage from that run the other day.”
    “Right,” Ravyn replied sarcastically. “You never could lie to me. Not convincingly.”
Silver just sighed.
    “Do you have any idea how much trouble you could have caused? We don't know if the Lady Hawke can be identified so taking off in her, chasing after the others, is stupid. You could get Foxy in more trouble then she may already be in. Not to mention, you might get yourself captured, and we wouldn't have known where you were.”
    "I'm sorry,” Silver said quietly, “but I have to find them. If anything happens to any of them, it will have been my fault. I cannot just stay here, wondering if they are okay. I have to do something. No matter what the cost.”
    “Not in that ship, you're not. We'll take mine instead.”
    Silver's head popped up and she stared at Ravyn, stunned.
    “What… uh… huh?”
    “I'm not just going to stand around her waiting either, not while our friends are out there. I've already had the Vengeance prepped for launch. More anonymous this way. Besides, I figured you'd be up to something like this.”
    “You know me too well.”
    “Of course.”
    Silver trailed Ravyn to one of the upper hangers where the Vengeance stood ready. Similar to the Gryffen, she was much smaller and more sleekly shaped with a larger weapons capacity. The Vengeance was built as a fighter ship, meant for a rousing dogfight instead of for smuggling or pirating. Ravyn did not do as much space travel as the others because of her numerous responsibilities on planet so the Vengeance was rarely used, giving her a newer appearance then thither ships around her.
    “Will Mayhem be going with us,” Silver asked as they boarded the ship.
    “Not this time. He can be more the avoid trouble when possible type you know, besides he…”
    The rest of what she was going to say died of as the entered the small control cabin to find Mayhem already seated at the navigator's terminal.
    “Maybe, but I'm useful in a fight,” he said menacingly, giving her a devious little smile.
    “How did you… never mind,” Ravyn growled as she glared at her overprotective minion.
    “I know you far too well. I figured you'd try something like this, and this one would be with you.”
    Silver clicked her heels together and bowed.
    “Someone had to go along and keep the two of you out of trouble, so I volunteered. I also left Nightshade a message so she'd know where we are. You know how she worries.”
    Feeling somewhat guilty at the truth of that last statement, Ravyn sand into the pilots chair and began the launch sequence.
    “I was going to let her know, eventually,” she muttered.
    “Of course you were,” Mayhem replied, disbelief clearly evident in his voice, “however, that's already taken care of.”
    He patted her on the head.
    Sensing impending doom (or at least pain), Silver curled up behind them to watch the floor show.
************************************************

    It was actually a magnificent testament to creative engineering. Stationary in space, it created its own orbit and gravitational fields through rotating sections, each one meant for a different alien sector. A glass alloy had been used to construct part of the habitat sections so residents and guests would have a magnificent view of space. The outer hull of the space station Alliance had been painted in Federation colors, blue, white and gold, which had given it a majestic look as it continually rotated in space. Overall, the Alliance was supposed to be a dedication to majesty of the Federation. It had been built to honor the 500th anniversary and was described throughout the galaxy as a wonderful union between cutting edge technology and opulent luxury. At least that's what it had been.
    More the fifty years of exposure to space had rendered it a painful mess. The paint had since worn completely off exposing the dark dank grey beneath. Most of the glass alloy had cracked from pressure and the expense of constantly replacing it had become such a waste of money that now, must of the windows were boarded up. Not that it was a huge loss. The years of use as a trading post had built up a sort of graveyard of ships on one side of the station. Moreover, the differing rotational speeds had caused an odd side effect, an irregular squeal that sounded at the oddest times throughout the station.
    Now the Alliance was one of the largest trading posts for the black markets operating in the Federation (and outside, too). It was no real secret, the stations military governor had known for years and allowed it, taking a cut of all profits for the Federation, and himself. Most of the Commonwealth officers onboard could be bought, bribed, or blackmailed while the 'security team' ran more shady deals then anyone else. Every so often some fool would try to clean the place up, but, usually, they were convinced to go away, or just killed. Essentially, it was perfect place for any for anyone looking to work around the law.
    Foxy presented her passcard to be scanned by security before entering the station. It was a mere formality as no one was denied entrance. She and the others were waved on to a weapons check. Security didn't really care if you were armed (despite the weapons ban) they just wanted an inventory of what you carried. They moved over to where two bored security officers sat behind a kryotab while a third stood next to them, an HHS in his hand and a sullen look on his face.
    Foxy waited while her information popped up on the standing one screen. The moment it did, the officer straightened from his slouched position and pasted an overly cheerful if not quavering smile on his face.
    “Kenali Foxhem,” he addressed her, using her alias. Kenali was a title of respect. “Welcome back to the Alliance. Your parties' quarters are already prepared for your arrival. If you wouldn't mind waiting a moment for the weapon's check, I'll see that you're escorted to your suite right away.”
    He made a gesture to the other two officers indicated from them to make it quick these were important people.
    Looking nervous, the two quickly inventoried her and Juana's weapons, and then moved onto the small pile of weird electrical gadgets Tech laid out. Not sure what most of them were, they waved him on then turned to Angel. Foxy shifted to the side, knowing this would take awhile.
    First came the sword, followed by two sets of hand-held blasters, then palmers, some poisoners, her lightsaber, several vibroblades, and a couple of explosocaps. As the mound in front of them began to grow, the two officers looked ill, while the third one's eyes were beginning to bulge out.
    “Is that everything,” he asked after ten or so minutes.
    Angel paused in the act of nodding yes, and reached down to pull a knife set from her tail.
    “Very well, then…um…we'll have you escorted to your quarters.”
    The two inventory officers looked desperately grateful as they walked away. One of them quickly got up to head for the bathroom and change his uniform.
    “So what did you get through,” Foxy asked Angel as they followed a nervous security officer to a level lift. She was referring to the weapons Angel hadn't bothered to present to the poor security officers. Angel waited until after they boarded to reply.
    “Most of it,” she muttered back.
*********************************************

    Juana decided she was in paradise. While the Pax definitely believed in luxury, this place was pure opulence. Despite the shabby outward appearance of the Alliance, the living quarters were done in the newest trends and the finest materials. Everywhere you looked there was wealth and decadence. She was certain ten of her would have fitted easily in the huge bathing tub (a luxury on any space station) and the bed was beyond gigantic, plus it was a wavefloater, which meant you were rocked to sleep each night in comfort.
    The others had barely noticed how luxuries their surroundings were. Foxy had visited the Alliance many times to do business and nothing impressed Angel. Tech was too busy with his gadgets to pay attention, either. Only Juana gawked as they made their way from the living quarters to the gaming and dining sections. Gradually the corridors began to take on a more lived in look and the bar they ended up in could only be described as seedy.
    “What are we doing here,” Juana asked Foxy as they paused in the doorway, the distaste more then evident in her voice.
    “Having a meeting,” came the cheerful reply.
    As one the group moved in and headed for a table. Tech roused himself from the latest problem running through his head and acknowledged that Juana had a point. The Den, as it was known, was definitely one lowbrow joint. Aliens from dozens of different worlds were crowded around scarred old kryotabs, guzzling various liquids. The hum of conversation was loud, but over it could be heard the percussion (if one listened hard enough) of a hypnotic alien beat.
    The walls were dented in at various spots, indicative of many bar fights. Servodroids shoved through crowds, carrying more inebriating beverages as raucous laughter echoed through the room. Most of the patrons were the lowest of the low. Anything could be bought or sold at the den and most of the dealings that went on would make even the most hardened of criminals wince. The fats of many were debated and decided over the watered down drinks served in the Den.
    “Ah Foxy, my favorite foxe,” said a giant mound of scaly flesh, seated at a `tab in the corner. It seemed to rise and extend a tentacle waving them to seats. Ryo, a purveyor of goods as he called himself, was an Eythliyc. They were a large, disgustingly slimy race that devoted themselves to making a profit. Ryo specialized in hard to find goods.
    “You pick the most fascinating places to do business,” Foxy replied in way of greeting as she took a seat. Angel stood behind her while Tech and Juana took seats on either side.
    “Only cuz I am one fascinating guy, my beauty. What kind of poison would you like, this place has `em all. I'll buy.”
    “Nothing for me,” she glanced at the others who shook their heads no, “although thanks for the altruistic offer. So unlike you.”
    “I only make `em if I know no one 'ould take me up on it.”
    Ryo chuckled to himself.
    “Of course. Now, shall we get down to business?”
    “Why not. I hear you in the market to purchase some land. Well, I got me some of that to sell. Course you be paying top cred for it.”
    “Market is going down on that sort of thing Ryo, so don't try to con me, I don't like it.”
    “Never my sweet, never. Truth is, this land I just got aholdo is special. We're talking prime and expensive.”
    “Spill.”
    Ryo paused to drain his drink and demand another.
    “I got a special piece of property dropped in my lap a short while ago,” he began. “Seems them Teloriens are trying to unload all their solid assets. Who knows why, always did think they were a bunch of @$%&, but this one Prime Dictator or some such had a deed to a planet.”
    “An entire plant,” Foxy breathed, stunned. Even Angel looked a bit shaken at the idea.
    “Uh-huh. Got it in some hostile takeover they staged awhiles back. There was some planet in the Nelio System that had an important mineral, but they planet was empty.”
    “Empty?”
    “No peoples, races, or stuff like that populating it. Planet further down the way had had inhabitants but they can't even orbit yet. So the Teloriens come in, declare this planet theirs, and stomp on the other planet, the one with people.”
    “But the Federation protects against such a thing,” Tech declared, “they can't do things like that to a non-orbiting race.”
    “Well they did. No one went and told them otherwise. Anyways, since this one military guy was the one who conquered the other race, his family got the deed to the planet and now they want to unload it. Passed it on to me for a lot of creds. Fool Teloriens are liquidatin everything.”
    “Any idea why they would do that,” Angel asked.
    “Not a clue sugah, they don't talk to the likes of me, not friendly like anyways.”
    “But the planet's for sale,” Foxy demanded, impatient to get back to the important stuff. This was better then what she had hoped for, an entire planet!
    “Yessa, it is, for the right price. I gotta make some profit off this thing, you know.”
    “Of course. What are you asking for the deed?”
    Ryo paused for a second to contemplate. Despite his rough BASIC speech, he was a shrewd dealer, something Foxy knew. They had had dealings in the past and he knew from experience she was tough to bargain with. Usually she drew a line and wore you down to what she wanted but this had obviously thrown her. Even the most basic dealer knew you didn't ask the price, you named it.
    “Well sugah, since its you asking all nice like, I'll say, oh 90 mill.”
    “Forget,” Foxy replied, getting up to leave, “too much.”
    “Now, now, wait sugah,” Ryo insisted hastily, he couldn't afford to let her get away. Most people weren't in the market for a planet. “That was just a starting price. We got some negoitatin before we hit a finality.”
    Foxy sat back down and the two began to haggle while the others looked on. True to her nature form, Foxy settled on a price right away and wouldn't budge. Ryo kept haggling, though. Sometimes you could convince a customer to pay a little more. Besides, anything he made would be profit. The fact about the Prime Dictator had been a lie, he'd gotten the deed from the $#@&% in a quadro game which had cost him nothing. But what was a small lie between friends.
    “I'm not going above 58, Ryo, so it will do you no good to keep arguing. That's my final offer.”
        “Foxy, Foxy, ya killin me here, rippin my `earts out.”
    “Don't tempt me.”
    Ryo just chuckled and drained another drink. He'd had about eight since they'd started negotiating.
    “As much as it pains me to agree, 58 million credits it is. Payment in advance of course.”
    “No problem. I will see the deed before you get paid, though.
    “Wouldn't have it any other way, my sweet.”
***************************************************************

    “I can't believe you just bought an entire planet,” Juana whispered in the lift ride back to their suite. “How many Lorian Guilds own their own planet? This is incredible.”
    Juana threw her hands up in the air and began to pace back and forth. Foxy looked on, amused by her young assistants antics, while Angel tried to distance herself as much as possible from the insanity-taking place. Tech faded back into his own little world, oblivious to what was happening.
    “This is so cool. All the other Guilds will be so jealous of us. I can't wait to get back to Loria.”
    “Juana,” Angel said, sharply, “This will be one asset we keep hidden from the competition. We have purchased an object of strategic importance, revealing its existence would jeopardize that. A degree of digression is required now.”
    Juana immediately quieted down. Foxy patted her awkwardly on the shoulder and sent Angel a look. Angel merely shrugged in response.
    “We must deliver the weapon to the Hyperions, before we return to Loria,” Tech added, coming out of his daze.
    “I will meet with Ryo tomorrow to finalize the deal and retrieve the deed,” Foxy stated, attempting to head off an argument. “Once I have that, we can depart.”
    Angel nodded, while Juana just stared ahead as they headed back to the suite.    Tech had returned to his world and was again paying not attention. They each split to their own rooms, each contemplating something different. Eventually Foxy knocked on Angel's door to talk.
    “Cut Juana some slack,” she said without preamble.
    Angel merely raised an eyebrow at that statement. Somehow she had been expecting this conversation.
    “She is still a child in many ways, she needs to learn prudence and secrecy. Frankly she annoys me, it is only for your sake that I have not harmed her for that.”
    Foxy sighed and settled onto Angel's bed.
    “I know, believe me, I know. But, she means well, and she can be an excellent assistant, usually.”
    “Normally, people who bother me get put through walls.”
    “Angel, you're not listening to me,” Foxy nearly growled through clenched teeth. “This is important.”
    “I am aware of that.”
    “Please be consider her feelings, you can't keep treating her like the way you do.”
    “She annoys me. She's too young to be involved in this.”
    “Technically, she is an adult.”
    “She is not mature enough to handle most of the aspects of our business, she may never be.”
    Angel crossed the room and stared out a small section of uncovered window.
    “There is still some innocence left in her, few of us can claim that. Most of us have lived in the dark to long.”
    Foxy sighed again and shifted to a more comfortable position. The same thoughts had been running through her head for a while. At moments she really worried about Juana's future. Despite the strength in her, Foxy had sent her on a number of difficult but successful missions; there was a core of softness deep inside that kept her from being truly hard. Finally she admitted to Angel something that had been weighing on her mind for a long time.
    “I had hoped to give Juana a more important position in the Guild,” she began. “I cannot keep her as my assistant forever but she does not have the capability to be more, not in the end. You are right, she is still immature in many ways.”
    “She'll grow up… eventually, the world we live in will see to that,” Angel replied.
    “Sometimes, I don't think I want her to, at least not in our world.”