“Who says crime doesn't pay,” Foxy wondered out loud as she studied the latest financial reports on her computer screen. The Pax guild was raking in money and, after their latest venture was complete, they would have enough credits for the two small moons in the Rydal system. Owning her own planet had always been a dream of Foxy's, one the idiots of Galactic Federation were helping to make possible.

“Hey Foxy,” Ravyn's voice came over the link Foxy had in her ear, “the guest of honor has arrived. I just put them in Privacy Booth 4.”

“Excellent, I'll be down in a minute. I want to finish up these financial reports. We're getting closer to our goal,” she replied.

Ravyn grinned and shook her head. Foxy was determined to own most of the galaxy. Signaling to Mayhem to bring out the dancers, she crossed from the second floor balcony to the side kitchen exit. The Club was an architectural oddity she thought, not for the first time, as she made her way to Nightshade's domain. They were celebrating the reopening now that the latest renovations were complete. The Club was now split into four sections, each connected by long curved hallways. The main section housed a restaurant, dance floor and a stage that featured a variety of music acts.

The other three sections were primarily dance floors featuring a variety of music (and soundproof walls) with small booths and tables around the outside wall for light dining. All four sections where laid out in a circular pattern so the inside walls of all four sections could be removed to form one giant club for special events. The main section also had small privacy rooms built into the second and third floor balconies for group dining. The fourth floor balcony held the offices and the kitchen had been built on the back of the main and fourth sections.

The kitchen was, as usual, in a controlled chaos. Assistant chefs ranged all over the place, fetching, carrying, and handling the minor details of a kitchen. The head chefs were busy creating at their stations and yelling orders to their assistants. The Club was famous for its meals prepared by hand, an irregularity in this day and age. The wait staff, in matching uniforms, scurried back and forth carrying dishes bound for the various sections. In center of the mess was Nightshade, strolling around like a general, giving orders and checking on the progress of her chefs. Several assistant chefs trailed after her ready to leap to do her bidding.

“Ravyn,” Nightshade spotted her standing in the doorway and headed in her direction.

“The Mayor and his party have just arrived. I sent the dinner orders in already.”

Nightshade nodded and turned to a young ardilla to her left.

“Mantillo, go remove the sea bass from the marinating sauces and remove the heads, I'll be over in a moment to start the grill.”

The ardilla fled to do her bidding as Nightshade turned back to Ravyn.

“I'll have their dishes sent out soon.” Nightshade sighed. “I had forgotten just how much work this place took. Maybe we should just stick to being criminals.”

“Oh come on, you're having fun back here and you know it.” Ravyn glanced at her watch. “I gotta go. I have to be onstage soon. See you in a little bit.”

“No problem, good luck out there.”

“Thanks.”

Nightshade turned back to her kitchen. Everything was going smoothly, so she took a moment to contact Cyber in the lair and relay the info, and then she hurried over to the grill. Barking orders at Mandillo and Loria to bring her various spices, she set the sea bass onto grill and began on the rest of the dishes.

In the lair, built under the water beneath the small island that held the Club, Cyber ran through the latest dispatches from their informants. Most of the information just confirmed what she already knew but there were a few new rumors that had been picked and relayed to her. Removing her link, she put the portable one in her ear and went in search of Angel.

She found the blond wolverne in the main hanger bay supervising the loading of the spacecraft that would be making the run tonight. Silver was off in the corner giving out last minute orders to her men.

“Angel,” she called out catching her attention. “Just talked to Nightshade, the party is about to begin upstairs.”

Angel nodded. “That is good. If all goes well, Foxy will have her moons and The Pax will have a private asset in space. The ships will be ready for launch soon; I'm having Tech go over the defense grid on the last one now. Has the transport entered the jump lane yet?”

“Yep, just sent out its jump coordinates to Control before it left. It's on schedule oddly enough. Rare for a transport but I guess they are under contract for the delivery time. Pity the cargo won't be getting there.”

Cyber grinned as she watched the teams scatter to their 'craft. This latest shipment was not expected to have anything very rare but Foxy had found a buyer for the Deleon fabric who was willing to pay twice the market price. Sucker. In contrast to Cyber, Angel's face stayed emotionless as she watched the teams board their fighters and prepare to launch. She rarely showed any emotion on the outside, but part of her wished that she would be going along on the run. Angel loved space, the emptiness that held so much appealed to her for some reason. Silver walked up to join them. She was dressed in her flight suit and had her helmet tucked under her head.

“Everything is set. Tech just finished the last run through and he's onboard the Lady Hawke now, getting set up. Hey Cyber, care to join us in our little romp through space, there's always room for one more.” Silver grinned evilly, knowing what Cyber's reaction would be. For some reason the marten hated being on a 'craft.

True to her species, Cyber looked extremely ill and wondered off, mumbling something about lunatics under her breath. Angel merely shook her head.

“You shouldn't tease her, she can't help a genetic trait. All martens despise being in spacecraft; it's amazing how they managed to start a colony on Niota 5.”

The silver feline shrugged in response.

“Lighten up Angel, I was only playing with her, besides its fun to watch her squirm. You have no sense of humor,” Silver replied in her usual blunt manner.

“Anyway,” Angel responded, “the transport has entered the jump lane, I suggest to leave soon or you will miss it.”

“I'm going, I'm going. Clear the deck will ya.”

“No problem.”

Foxy ended her vid-link to Juana and headed out of the office. Pausing for a second to adjust the jacket of her black raw silke suit, she took the lift down to second floor and made her way to the privacy booth. Inside were the Mayor of the Alluna Islands and his guests, the Regional Governor and ambassador to the Galactic Federation for the Lorian ruling party, Sebaio Officialo and the Head of Control for the Eastern Quadrant of the Galactic Federation, a Vynerian named Hantel Grunzxqygh. All three were already somewhat drunk.

Solaria, Nightshade's assistant was already at the table distributing the liquor freely among the three politicians. She disappeared to handle the remaining details while Foxy seated her self at the table. Ravyn was already there, having just finished a set with the band.

“Ah my dear Foxy, there you are, I was just telling Sebaio and Director Grunzxphf…Grunsxygphf…the director about you. You missed a mahvalous performance by the lovely Ravyn.” The mayor, Weufld Officialo, gave his brother a smack on the back then peered at Foxy drunkenly before waving her to a seat. The Officialo brothers came from a long line of politicians, not surprising considering they were vernint, a species temperamentally suited to politics.

The brothers had thick grey fur, which they kept slicked down, black eyes, and long thin whiskers. Sebaio was the more sober of the two. He sat next to Ravyn discussing various musical styles and groups. The Director sat across from them, already half passed out, Vynerians could not hold much alcohol.

“Weufld, so glad you could come to our opening night. I hope you and your party have been having a good time.”

“Wonderful, simply wonderful,” the mayor slurred in response. “Waiting for dinner to arrive right now. I was delighted to learn your famous chef was back. That little lapus of yours can do mahvalous things in a kitchen.”

“I'll be sure and convey your compliments to her. She has prepared all your favorite dishes. What you your think of our club, Director?”

The Director lifted his head and stared at Foxy for a second. Three of his seven eyes were already closed and a fourth was nearly there. He studied his surroundings for several seconds then turned back to her.

“Fascinating,” he replied, finally. “I have very rarely seen its equal. Vynerians have no such socializing places and the Federation planet has only public buildings. Is it true that this club is run by the members of your guild and it's one of kind?”

Foxy nodded. Despite his outward appearance, the Director was still very lucid. They would need to change that.

“Yes, the guild has several businesses but our main offices are housed in the Club. Of course we also have a business office in downtime Alluna.”

“I find your whole guild system incredible. Most planets have things like corporations and industries. You do it entirely different way. I've always wondered why that is.”

“Well actually it comes from our history. Many cycles ago most 'businesses' were family based. Only members of your family worked for in any capacity. As our society became more involved with interplanetary trade we had to adjust for all the new demand we were experiencing. That's how the guilds grew. A guild typically was comprised of several families who worked together. Its much more efficient since all the members have a similar investment in the Guilds success.” Foxy leaned over and added more spiced Moldervian wine to the Director's glass.

“So then, the people in your guild are your family?”

“Not quite. Most of us grew up essentially alone in the world. We came together to form the Pax so I suppose you could say we are a family now. The Pax is the only guild in the Alluna island chain so we don't have much opposition on island. There are a few small businesses that are family based, but that's it. We have to look to the guilds on other islands for competition in our markets.”

“Don't you worry about internal problems? Disloyal employees, spies, and things like that?”

“Not really. The idea of family unity and loyalty has been bred into Lorians so, for us anyway, we've never had that problem.”

“You don't know how…hic…lucky you are,” the Director had all but one eye still open and he was peering at her blearily. He leaned over conspiratorially. “We've had mo sany leaks recantly that…that the Head Director is…is on the war paths. Shipments are being hi… hi… jack..ed left and right. In fact,” the Director pointed a finger at foxy and dropped his voice to what he thought was a whisper. He also made an effort to speak more clearly “We just had an incident with the Teloriens. They tried to break…incuse me… to back out of their intersella…intorstellar… interstellar cargo agreement; there I said it, with the Feddy's. Fools! The Feddy's straignthed them out but good.”

Foxy carefully nudged his glass out of his reach. Here was what she was fishing for. “Interesting. But, why did the Teloriens want to back out?”

“Oh. Cuz, they got this hippyment of major goodies going out real real real… real soon. In fat, this Telorien bassodory type was down in MY office,” apparently indignation had a way of clearing part of the alcoholic fog as the Director became more lucid, “yelling cuz there was the cargo of stuff. Not worth too much, but he was acking like it was worth a furt…a frot… a lot of credits. Wasn't enen Telorian. Useless burotatic idiot. Outta shot the lotta 'em.”

Nightshade arrived then, several waitstaff with her. “Hope everyone's having a wonderful time. Your main courses are ready. I prepared each one myself by hand. I hope you all enjoy.” Smiling rather falsely (not that any of the nights guests were sober enough to notice) she began to serve. As she placed a plate in front of the Director she nodded her head slightly at Foxy. The microbiotic transmitters had been placed in his food and activated.

As everyone began eating, Foxy excused herself for a moment and headed after Nightshade. Nightshade paused in the hallway for Foxy to catch up then kept going towards the kitchen.

“So, did you get anything out of the Vynerian?”

Foxy nodded. “The Teloriens tried to pull out of their contract. Impossible to accomplish without leaving the Federation so they're stuck. But they are definitely worried about security. Apparently they have a major shipment planned, more then one if the rumors are correct, and they want to make sure it'll arrive safely.”

Minor rumors had been going around that the Teloriens, a race obsessed with the idea of cultured civilization, was pulling all of its national treasures and other high value items from its colonies and sending them back to they're home world. If true, then even one of those shipments would net someone a tidy profit as Teloriens were the only manufacturers of a rare and highly sought after substances used to make a special kind of jewelry. Very little of it was allowed on the open market so it was very expensive.

“Sounds like the rumors are true then,” Nightshade replied. “Strange but who are we to argue with luck. The transmitters will be in place soon. Once there we'll know everything the Director sees and hears for the next few weeks. Once the Teloriens file their flight plans and cargo manifests we'll be able to pick them off easily.”

“Excellent. A pity we can't keep this up indefinitely. Having our eyes and ears in that office would be very lucratively.”

“I thought we only wanted to own half the universe. Besides prolonged exposure could cause damage to the subject. Once we have what we need we can deactivate the signal and the transmitters will break down in his system without any side effects.” “We must have Tech work on those things, if he can develop a transmitter that doesn't eventually turn toxic a whole new world of possibilities would be ours.” “Maybe. By the way, the 'shipment' went out a short time ago, they should be reaching space any moment now.”

A devious smile crossed Foxy's face and she turned to gaze out one of the bay windows, looking out over the ocean. “Perfect.”

Silver checked the latest warp readouts then switched over to the com-link. “Hey Tech, is everyone bedded down in there?”

“Just put the last baby to bed. We're ready to leave the atmosphere,” came the reply from the main 'cargo' deck.

Smiling, Silver joined one of the main outgoing shipping lanes and prepared to transmit her flight plans to one of the many Lorian patrols the circled the planet. While it was not impossible to avoid the patrols (they were there primarily to ensure no unauthorized ships enter Lorian Space) it was difficult. Silver normally relied on a combination of bribes; old favors from former buddies, and luck but Foxy had wanted her to do it legally this time.

According to her flight logs the Lady Hawke was making routine deliveries to several trading posts in Lorian space. The good thing about a flight plan like that was it didn't need to be filed with the Control since technically the Lady Hawke wasn't leaving Lorian space. In reality the Lady Hawke was carry two squadrons of fighters and was bound for one of the side jump lanes their target was traveling in.

Silver took her place among the cargo vessels and waited for her turn. She hated waiting but cutting in line would draw attention to her ship and she didn't want to do that right now. At the moment the Lady Hawke looked like a normal Lorian style cargo vessel. Silver doubted anyone would realize her simple ship actually had several surprises and could alter its appearance with the flip of a switch.

Tech entered the bridge and took the copilots seat. “How's it going,” he asked as he seated himself.

The ship beeped in response as Silver lounge back in her seat. “We're right on schedule,” she finally responded. “I managed to get us scheduled to jump fourth. Once in the lane we can shift into normal space and make our own lane. Our destinations have already been logged with our arrival so as far as anyone knows we never left Lorian space. Brace yourself our turns coming up.”

Silver leaned over and powered up the jump engines, feeding in their initial coordinates. The computer could have done it for her easily, but she preferred to fly manually. The Lady Hawke flew through the gate, entering the jump lane without the slightest bump. Ah, you gotta love Lorian engineering, she thought as she powered down the jump engines and re-entered normal space. Sliding over to a secondary control panel she powered up the ships main jump engines and became the tedious process of forming her own jump lane.

Meanwhile Tech was manning the COM and the SFL (spatial frequency locator, a device that could detect the energy signatures of all ships within a set radius around the Lady Hawke). Between the two, he could detect any ship. Setting the SFL on automatic, he fed in the specific sequence he would need to look for to find their cargo ship that was their intended target. That down, he settled back into his seat. Everything else would have to wait until they reached their final destination.

Silver sat back and sighed with relief. Programming a manual jump gate could be time consuming. Fortunately she already had the coordinates they would need to arrive at. All the computer would need to do was plot a lane that would lead directly to it. However, there was a catch. While two ships COULD occupy the same space if on of them was in normal space and the other in a jump lane, two ships could not occupy the same space in a jump lane. She had to be certain the lane the computer plotted did not take them through a known jump lane.

“Okay, prepare to jump, opening gate in three, two, one,” she punched the main engine and the Lady Hawke slid into hyperspace.

An hour or so later, the warning system beeped indicating they were approaching the set coordinates. Silver roused herself from the nap she been taking and shook Tech awake.

“Almost to our destination, Ears, time to do a little shopping.” Ears was Silver's nickname for the young lupine, she named him that shortly after discovering he was embarrassed by the size of his ears.

Grumbling, Tech reached over and flicked on the com-link. “All crew to station one, we are approaching normal space. Begin pre-launch procedures.”

“There's the lane,” Silver said, pointing to the spatial anomaly on her screen. “Got a lock on the engine signature.”

“Checking, yep, here it is. Bearing 682 at 196 degrees, ETA is 15.43. Locking signature and powering up the disruptor.”

“Good. Preparing to enter normal space…now.” Silver flipped on the com-link again. “All pilots report to your fighters and begin launch sequence. Maintain COM silence until otherwise indicated. Red team, yellow team report to the IST room and prepare for boarding.”

“Disruptor powered up and on line. Tracings locked in. You'll have five minutes of down time.”

“Put the forward guns on line, minimum controlled burst. Screens one and two, mode 2, screens 3 and 4 display SFL readings.”

“Primary team in position, secondary A and B are moving into position right now. The sweepers just launched.” “Hold all other teams at ready. Have primary and secondary power up TBS and prepare for maximum hold.” “Acknowledged. ETA is currently 4.28. Sweepers are in position.”

“Initiate cloaks and power up the forward shields. Let's get ready to rumble.”

The Belagorate wasn't defenseless, nor was it carrying a very valuable cargo but still its captain, a Crenlin named Borst was pretty nervous. He'd been jumper for over twenty cycles and that bred certain instincts. Instincts that were telling him something wasn't right.

“Captain,” a much younger Crenlin named Dermays came running up to him. Dermays was still new at being a OIC so he tended to be overenthusiastic. “Latest reports from COM, no activity to report. We're alone out here. Nothing to worry about.”

“Your never alone in space, Officer Dermays. Tell COM to keep on alert and tell our two escorts out there to wake up. Just because we're in a minor jump lane doesn't mean we couldn't have company. Wouldn't want to be caught with our tentacles in our keracs.”

“Yes, sir.”

Borst turned back to the viewer just as a major shock went through the ship.

“Sir,” a young feldern shouted, “Jump engines have been deactivated. We're re-entering normal space.” “Alert our escort and get those engines back on line. Find out what in the name of Balhonie hit us. In the meantime power up our shields and weapons engines.”

“Too late sir.” Dermays looked ill. “We're caught in a field lock. COM's reporting 6 fighters, unknown make, have us in a TBS.”

“Where's our escort, fragit!”

“Reporting under heavy fire, sir. They're unable to help us.” The felderns face reflected what they were all thinking. They were fragged.

“Can we break loose of the TBS?”

“No sir, they've got to good a lock. As long as they have us locked we can't fire our weapons. We're stuck.”

Silver twitched her tail back and forth as she watched her fighters slid into position and nab the unsuspecting freighter. It was an N class Belagorate, built more for speed then maneuverability. The plan had worked perfectly. A single burst from their disruptor had killed its jump engines and forced the Belagorate into normal space right into the waiting hand of her fighters, which had immediately put it into TBS lock. Now she was a sitting duck, unable to move or to fire her weapons. All she had was a shield defense, easy to breach.

“That SFL of yours works beautifully, Ears.” The SFL had allowed them to locate the engine signature of the Belagorate, lock on and then track it. “Now, lets start phase two.”

“Attention Belagorate, this is the your friendly cargo inspector. We'll need to come aboard and inspect your latest shipment. Anything we deem inappropriate will of course be coming with us.”

“Sarding pirates. Officer Dermays, put the COM on speaker. This is Captain Borst of the freighter N class Belagorate. No one, I repeat no one will be coming aboard my ship.” Borst began to pace back and forth, trying to formulate some plan of defense.

“Well Captain Borst, I'm afraid you don't have a lot of choice. By now my ship should be registering on your screen. If you can't already tell, there are four ion cannons trained directly at your ship. Each one can do very extensive damage. Now, we can do this the easy way or the fun way. Your choice. Either way your cargo is now mine.” “COM off. Report.”

“They are telling the truth, Captain. Scan is picking up at least four ion cannons with firing solutions locked on us. There are several more trained on us as well.”

“Ion cannons, who still uses ion cannons. The frellen things draw too much power to be useful in battle.”

“Sir, COM is reporting that the cannons are set on burst.”

“Impossible, ion cannons can't be used in that capacity.”

“Sorry sir, but that's what COM is reading from their ship.”

“Tell COM to open a channel to our visitors.”

“This is Captain Borst. I have considered your proposition. What are your requests?”

“It worked. Tech, tell me your into their system.”

“Yep, just got in. I now have control of their ship. Time to start phase three.” “Okay Captain, here's your first set of orders.”

“Captain sir, all of the crew have been confined to the assigned quarters. The COM unit is unmanned. Anything else sir?”

“No petty officer that will be all. Return to your post. I can handle the rest from the bridge myself.” “Yes, sir. Good luck, sir.”

“All crew are confined to the areas you requested. Now what would be you next request?”

“Your sarcasm has been duly noted captain. Now, are you alone on the bridge?”

“Yes, I am.” He decided to ignore the OIC's presence. Suddenly the ships onboard computer went haywire. “Initiating security lock down. Section 10 sealed and depressurized. Section 9 sealed and depressurized.”

“Fragit!” Borst grabbed his OIC and made it through the bridge doors before they sealed.

“Well?” Silver demanded as she peered over Tech's shoulder.

“Security lockdown is done. All areas except those with crew are depressurized and their IST coordinates are locked into our computer.”

“Purrfect. Red teams, yellow team, prepare for boarding, pressurize suits and begin deployment. My ETA is two minutes. Tech, your in charge up here until I get back.”

“No problem. Good luck down there.”

“Thanks,” Silver replied as she sprinted down to the IST room.

“Okay, Red team take point, yellow team follow me. Bring the mobile transports.”

Silver and her team had beamed to the freighter and were preparing to raid the cargo hold. The yellow team followed her down to the next level to where the main cargo area was. Dividing them up she had half begin emptying the main hold while rest went into the lower holds for the extra goods. Meanwhile Silver went to find the leader of the Red team.

“Sir, we searched each hold, and no sign of life. All crew appear to be confined as you ordered.”

Silver nodded and continued her perusal of the ship. It wasn't bad, and older model but in good condition. If she hadn't been ordered to keep the crew out of harm she might have put them all in escape pods and taken the ship too. It could come in handy as a decoy.

“Sir, Red 6 and 7 and not reporting in. Possible security breach on deck 4.”

“I handle it Red 1, continue the sweep. Red 9 and 10, your with me. Stay on alert, we have possible men down.”

Silver crouched down near by a side corridor and motioned her team to pause. She detected movement further down the corridor and suspected an ambush. Removing her suit, she pulled out a portable breather and her link. She then flattened herself to the ground and edged herself toward the corner. The green security lights provided the only illumination as she placed an ear to the ground and concentrated, opening up her senses.

Two life forms, both Crenlin and armed. One was further down the corridor then the other. Both were crouched down, preparing for an ambush. Silver drew back and smiled. One of the perks of her species was the ability to camouflage one's self so that your opponent couldn't see you coming. Sliding into stealth mode, Silver soundlessly slipped around the corner and crept down the hallway.

Poor Dermays never knew what him. Something grabbed him by the throat and he was thrown into a wall before he could react. The OIC slid to the floor, unconscious. The captain froze for a second then leaped forward towards his fallen mate, weapon primed. Before he could get off a shot at… whatever it was, the weapon was knocked from his hand and went skittering off into a vent. Shaken, Borst fell back against the wall.

“What are you,” he demanded as he searched for his opponent. No response came. Suddenly he was lifted and flung through the air. He landed where the two corridors joined and one of a pair of unknowns in pressure suits stunned him unconscious.

“Put them somewhere out of our way, then find the MIA's. I'm going to do a recon to see if there are any more surprises.”

“Yes sir.” The two figures saluted then took off, each carrying an unconscious Crenlin over his shoulder.

“Hey Tech, how goes the shopping spree,” Silver called over her link as she searched a lower level.

“Main hold is empty as well as two of the four lower holds. I've got men searching for anything hidden, but nothing so far. Nothing is registering in the computer either.”

“Keep searching, freighters like this always have at least one hiding place. Makes it useful in case of pirate raids.”

“Yeah, real useful. Tech out”

Silver shook her head at her young seconds sarcasm then headed for the engineering compartment to do a sweep.

“Everything is loading and the teams have been recalled,” Tech said by way of greeting as Silver entered the bridge of the Lady Hawke. The feline wasn't even winded despite the fact that she had been playing commando through the decks of the Belagorate.

“Good. Recall the fighters and let's get out of here. We got what we came for.”

“No problem. Primary and secondary teams release and return. Sweepers hold position until the secondary is aboard and then regroup and return. Control out.”

“I'm sending out the distress signal now. We should have at least 20.30 before the patrol responds.”

“Secondary is aboard and the sweepers are returning now. By the way, found three hidden holds that had some nice goodies. Nothing listed on the manifest, though.”

“So the good captain was a smuggler, figures. I wonder if he'll be reporting this then. The sweepers are aboard, give me two to reset the NAV-COM on the jump engines then release the freighters computer. Don't want anything to happen to the crew.”

“All crew prepare for jump in 5. Good work out there people,” Tech added as he released his hold on the computer's system and guided the Lady Hawke towards the gate forming. “Foxy's going to be pleased,” he said to Silver. “Found something very interesting in one of the hidden holds. This job could be worth a lot more then any of us calculated. Jumping now.”

The Lady Hawke shot back into her jump lane; her cloaking engaged as the systems slowly began to come back on line in the Belagorate. Even her engine signature would be gone by the time help arrived. No one would be able to trace the latest in a string of hijackings across the galaxy back to the Pax. Or so they thought.