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ATTENTION ALL READERS!

Hello everyone! Jake here and I have an idea. If you have been reading this story attentively, you will know that Stacy still has three 'blank spots' on her proposed crew list (Gavin counts as one). Now, I had originally intended for the characters to be all completely different, but then I thought; Wait a second! If I make up all of these characters, they will act the exact way that I want them to! They will hardly be any different than some of the charcters that I have already made! I thought that such a thing would be incredibly... boring. So, I have decided to make this into a contest of sorts. Anybody who has a character in mind and wouldn't mind seeing them shot at, drugged, made fun of, possibly killed, or worse; send in your idea! They must be of your OWN creation. I'd better not have somebody submit a character who sounds like Admiral Boyce Kline, Leanna, Cloud, Fred, Hannah, Lupu, Shadowchaser, Neal Foster, or any other already used characters that belong to other writers. Now, I have to keep this fairly congruent with the rest of the story, so I have thought up some guidelines for this contest.

No chakats/skunktaurs allowed. This isn't because I dislike the species, but more to keep up with the idea that they are pretty well outright opposed to piracy as a rule. Seeing as that's the very role I'm trying to fill here, that could be a problem. I will accept: Terran morphs (Basic types. Think Rhajir, Stacy, or Trax), Voxxans, Rakshani (though there may be some friction between Stacy and any Rakshani as a fair warning), Caitians, humans, foxtaurs (both Terran and Stellar, but figure out how to get them away from their home), wolftaurs, Renzar, Faleshkarti (this one will be judged a bit more stringently and Trax may find that he hates having a kid aboard with a higher IQ than him), and Merraki. *If you need to figure out what and who these species are, see the IAQ (Infrequently Asked Question) that Goldfur has written up and which can be accessed through the main page.

They must be semi-normal. By that, I mean I don't particularly want a purple-winged, yellow-and-black striped, annoying, green-tongued, frog-eating, wolf fur on the Breath. Try and stick to the basics if at all possible. A crossbreed of two 'similar' morph types will be judged on a case-by-case basis. The gender, be they male, female, or herm, will more than likely not matter.

I need their back-story. This can be anything from a single paragraph to a short story; basically whatever you feel up to writing. Mind you, a more interesting (but still plausible) back-story with a good amount of thought put into it is more likely to get the spot than Bob, the human male with a scar over one eye who was born on Terra and just wants nothing more than to blow sh*t up. This also means I need to know where to 'pick them up' in the galaxy. Be creative, but be reasonable.

They need a flaw. By this I mean that they must have either something that can be taken away that they love more than anything (Stacy and her ship, for example) or just a simple character flaw (Trax isn't too bright and hates children). This may or may not be used, but it will most definitely be mentioned.

If you submit a character that wins, be ready to be contacted frequently about the character and their actions/beliefs/ideals/habits/experiences. The whole point I'm holding this contest is to take the idea of the character out of my hands to create a far more in-depth persona that I wouldn't be able to do otherwise. You will basically be in complete control of your character, right down to the number of times they smile, or even burp, in a day. Though I will be writing the plot and 'meat' of the story, it is up to you to determine how your character will react to the situations presented to them. Don't let this put you off; you could just submit a character and get me to decide everything, but where's the fun in that?

I need a COMPLETE description of them. Right down to the number of hairs they lose on a daily basis. Okay, maybe not that complete of a description, but I like to know about the characters I am writing about. If you have a picture or painting, all the better. Upload it in the email so I can see it.*The lack of a picture does not put you at a disadvantage. The characters are judged by who they are, not what they look like in a picture or painting. Just provide a good description and you'll be fine.

And finally, they have to possess a skill that is a reasonable asset (medical training, engineer, weapons expert, xenotechnologist, ex-'Fleet marine, etc. Not the ability to paint or sing [though feel free to include this data as well as I'm sure I could work it into the story somewhere]) and that would make them ideal for going on a galaxy-spanning 'National Treasure' kind of tale with a gang of deadly thieves, marauders, buccaneers, and murderers.

Hmm... That's about it I think. The top three 'contestants' will be chosen by me and contacted to be told that they have 'won'. The others may not go away empty-handed, though, as I can always use ideas for characters in both this story and in How Legends are Made, another project I am currently working on. I will contact you about their use if you are still willing to have them included even if it is in a significantly smaller role. Who knows, if I like your character enough I may just find a way to squeeze them in alongside the rest of the crew even despite the 'three spots' concept.

If your character fulfils (brownie points for if they exceed) these guidelines, you may soon find them on the ride of their lives trying to help unlock the potential of the 'xeno sphere', dodging hired guns sent by Morris (or maybe it wasn't him, but I'm betting it was; as Stacy said, it's always Morris), ridiculing the poor Star Fleet Captain Luke Sanders, blowing the sh*t out of unfortunate ships, avoiding 'Fleet personnel, outsmarting Erebus, and basically just having a grand old time. Good luck to all of you!

Oh, and I will only progress with this story when I have sufficient characters to proceed with the plot, so think of that as added incentive. (Or as a way to finally shut me down by boycotting me. Hopefully you see it as the former.) All ideas should be sent to [email protected]. I will try to respond to every email, but my time may be pressed depending on how many people respond. But for now, I hope you enjoy the latest chapter...

Blaze of Glory

Chapter 4: Royal Suite

Eric could feel wind blowing through the open window of his apartment, ruffling his fur and making his nose twitch. He smelled the scents of wet pine, a cool breeze, and, if he was guessing correctly, cinnamon. He rolled over in the familiar cloth of his bed and shuffled around in the blanket to make himself into a veritable fur-filled burrito. The sound of early morning songbirds reached his pointed ears, making him grin just the slightest bit.

Eric lay there for a long while, basking in the radiance of a perfect morning. The morning had always his favourite time of the day. Especially the ones of the days that lacked work or any other responsibilities that allowed him to shirk off all of his ill thoughts and just enjoy the blissful half-wakefulness that came after a good night's rest. It appeared that today was one of those days.

He buried his tan muzzle under a pillow, taking in the scent of the freshly washed pillowcase and letting out a small sigh of contentedness. Eric was in just the perfect spot for doing nothing. His neck was comfortable (something that had slowly become more rare as of late), his limbs were stretched out completely, his mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes lacked any of those annoying sunbeams that usually intruded to break up his slumber.

Eric was happy. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he had been so glad to just be alive. Another blissful sigh escaped his lips and he caught another whiff of his favourite cleaner. It truly was a perfect morning. And it was about to get better.

"You planning on waking up any time soon?" came a sultry voice that he half-recognized. He imagined that though he had heard the voice in question, it hadn't been with that 'oomph' of sexiness.

Curious, Eric opened an eye to see who it was, peering up past a wrinkle in his pillow. He doubted he could ever be more surprised if a box of chakat kittens had turned up on his doorstep with a note saying 'they're your problem now, daddy'.

It was Stacy who had asked him the question. She was leaning up against the baby blue wall next to one of his old Rage Take Two Redux posters that he hadn't quite gotten around to taking down yet, grinning suggestively at him with her tail swaying lazily. Her hair cascaded casually down to her shoulders, the stark white of it contrasting with the black tips of her ears and the slate-grey of her intelligent eyes. But it was what she was wearing, or rather, wasn't wearing that surprised him.

Stacy was completely naked. The only thing that she had with her was a small white mug of imported Chipinge coffee that she offered him. Eric took the offered mug as his eyes ran over every sensuous curve that her white-furred body had to offer, his gaze settling more than once on her more feminine parts. He brought the mug to his lips, the heady and invigorating aroma of the rich coffee stirring him fully to wakefulness. Eric took a small sip of the restoring liquid, savouring the rich taste of it as it splashed across his long tongue before slipping down his throat.

"Good coffee?" she asked, the sound of seductive enthusiasm not leaving her voice for a moment.

"It's great." he smiled. It really was. Eric hardly had the chance to get Chipinge coffee, and when he did he liked to save it for special occasions. The stuff in the cup was perfectly roasted, and he knew that the beans had been freshly ground for the current brew. It was, like the rest of the morning so far, perfect.

**

"He's really out of it." chuckled Rhajir as he looked over to where the jackal fur was twitching as he dreamed. The PTV had halted outside of a large hotel, one that had stood since the Gene Wars over two hundred and eighty years ago. It had received several major overhauls, but it was still the same building more or less.

The hotel towered over most of the other buildings perched on the edge of the falls and the mist of the late day provided a stellar background from the trio's point of view. It had nearly halved again in height over the years, becoming a permanent part of the Niagara Falls skyline. Its windowed flanks caught the last shreds of light that were seeping from the setting sun, turning the entire structure to a beautiful shade of welcoming orange.

They were parked on the small driveway in front of the hotel, and were making the last adjustments to their apparel. "Well he has to wake up now. I'm not carrying him inside." Stacy huffed. She had changed into a smart but elegant backless red dress after Eric had been knocked out and had just finished fixing a bracelet around her right wrist. She was now stepping into a pair of shoes at the same time as fastening a diamond necklace about her neck. "Unless you are volunteering."

"Huh... I don't think so." grunted Rhajir as he bent to do up the black shoes that he had changed into. He quickly adjusted his dress shirt before looking over to her again. "You want to wake him up, or should I?"

"I can do it. You go in and make sure that our reservation is still valid. And don't forget to get the landing pad clearance." Stacy replied as she fished a brush for her hair out of her kitbag.

"Yes ma'am." said Rhajir with a small bow of fealty that Stacy knew was more for appearances than anything else. He left the PTV with a PADD in one hand and disappeared into the glass-fronted lobby of the hotel. She drew the brush though her slightly tangled hair and, after checking it in the small mirror in the visor above her, tucked it back into her bag. After flashing a testing grin in the mirror she closed the visor and exited the vehicle.

Stacy circled the PTV until she was on the other side and facing the door that Eric was leaned against from the inside. She grabbed the handle and got ready to pull the door open. This will be fun...

**

Eric couldn't stop himself from grinning as Stacy clambered into the bed next to him. He rolled over onto his back and propped himself up on a small collection of pillows. She cuddled up beside him and her body melded to his own. She leaned her head on his shoulder, the weight of it comforting for Eric. They lay there for a moment, simply enjoying each others' company.

"You have good rest?" she purred as she rubbed his chest. She ran her groomed nails through the layer of fur and it tickled a bit, but in a good way.

"Mmm... Yeah." he sighed happily. She smiled and her eyes met his, a spark of familiarity passing between them.

"Good. Because it's time to get up." She rolled off of him and stretched as she got to her feet. Eric watched her move, more than a bit sad that the cuddling period had come to an abrupt end.

"But I am up." he said, more than a little confused. Eric sat upright a bit more as the entire room seemed to lurch. His hands dug into the various sheets and blankets on the bed and there was no doubt that something was wrong.

"You wish." she snickered.

**

Eric fell out of the PTV in a tangle of flailing limbs and half-said curses. Stacy stepped aside as he tumbled, smoothly moving herself out of the way.

"GAH! What the hell?" spat Eric as he woke from his drug-induced sleep to find himself on cool pavement and feeling his arm throb from where he had landed on it.

"Time to wake up." Stacy said in a manner that was matter-of-fact. Eric glared up at her spitefully, silently fuming at being interrupted during what had been one of the best dreams that he had ever had. Then again, it had been at her expense. He calmed down a little bit.

"Where are we?" he asked as he looked around and pushed himself upright. His eyes found the building that they were in front of and he was a little impressed. Looking back to her, he finally noticed how she was dressed. "And why are you dressed like that?"

"I'll answer those chronologically." she said, staring down at him as she pulled her hair into a neat ponytail. "We are now at the Royal Niagara Falls Hotel and I am dressed like this because I'm not about to go roaming into the building dressed like some starport tech. Savvy?"

"The Royal? Why?" he asked, the name of the prestigious hotel coming back to him.

"Well, I wasn't about to crash at your place now, was I?" she asked with a wolfish grin.

All teasing aside, Stacy had made a reservation at the hotel over a week ago, soon after her meeting with Captain Yarrick. She had looked through a few hotels, originally planing to get a boring little room to serve as her makeshift headquarters for the time she was to spend on Terra. Then she thought that since it was her first time back and money really wasn't an object, why was she holding back? Stacy had immediately committed herself to the thought and found the largest and most expensive room that she could find.

She had rented out the entire top level, what was called the presidential suite by the hotel, for the entire length of time that she expected to be staying on Terra. At a lofty three thousand credits a night, the cost of her stay was high to say the least.

Eric shook his head. "What about me?"

"Well," she said, "I'm sorry to say that you are not going anywhere." A flash of worry rushed to his face, but Stacy held up a placating hand. "Relax. I only mean that I can't let you out of my sight for a bit, not that I'm going to kill you. Unless you piss me off, that is."

Eric gave an audible gulp. Stacy continued. "You are going to stay here with me until I figure out what to do with you."

"So... What does that mean? That I'll be able to go home?" he asked.

"Maybe. We'll see." replied Stacy noncommittally. She turned around and rummaged through Rhajir's bag that had been left open in the middle of the PTV from when the tiger fur had changed. "For now, put these on." She handed him a black button-up dress shirt and a pair of expensive-looking dress pants.

Eric took them from her and looked down at the clothing. "Are you always changing this much?" he asked as he climbed into the PTV to get dressed. He shut the door behind him with a thud and she leaned up against the outside facing out to give him some privacy.

"Not always." she admitted. "But appearance is half of a good disguise."

"And the other half?" he asked with a grunt from inside the vehicle. The shaking that was happening from inside the PTV let Stacy knew that he was tugging the pants on. It's a good thing Rhajir had spare clothes, she thought, otherwise this would be a bit more difficult...

"Well, a quarter of it is a solid back-story. The rest is knowing how to fill the role." Stacy explained. Not originally intending to give any true advice, more just trying to deflate his complaint, she actually nodded to herself as she recognized that what she had said was more or less the very creed she tried to follow when donning any disguise. The way you look only works to fool others when they don't have to talk to you.

The door opened again on its sliding hinges and Eric emerged, now wearing the pants and doing up the shirt that she had given him. "Well, how do I look? Like a rich snob?"

Stacy turned and gave him a once-over. Eric held his arms from his sides and shrugged his shoulders. The shirt was a bit loose on him, but nothing that anybody would ever comment on. The pants looked as if they had just been pressed, which was a major plus, and she had to admit that his tan and black fur did go with the colour of the clothes. "Well, I'd say that half of your disguise is covered." she said with a smug smile.

"Good, because I feel like an idiot in this shirt." Eric tugged at the the flap of the right side of his chest, trying to straighten out the button that almost appeared to be too large for hole. Stacy smacked his hand away.

"Hey! Careful with that! Would a rich snob be missing a button?" Stacy said in a scolding tone. She fastened the button without a second thought, enjoying the look of frustration on Eric's face, and patted it for good measure. "There. That's better."

She cocked her head to one side and chewed a knuckle thoughtfully. Something wasn't quite right... Ah! That's it! Stacy licked one of her hands and ran her hand through the tuft of dark fur atop his head, fussing over it and trying to get it to stand up a bit better.

"Hey!" protested Eric, raising a hand to defend himself from her ministrations.

"Hold still." she said as she forced his ad-hoc defence away and tried to make him presentable. "There we go."

Stacy smiled as he tried to look at himself in the window of the PTV and cocked his head in a wide range of angles to see what she had done to him. He was still looking at the dim reflection when Rhajir returned. "Hey! Why is he wearing my stuff?!" whined the tiger fur.

"Because I don't think that they would let him in if he was wearing a bra and panties." she sniggered. "No matter how much he was enjoying himself."

"Hey!" protested Eric as he rounded on them. The others just ignored him and Rhajir seemed to take the explanation with a pinch of salt.

"The room is ready and the landing pad is ours for the next four days." he reported as he handed Stacy the PADD that he had carried into the lobby with him. She looked down at it, taking in the list of features that the room came with, the cost, and most importantly, the e-pass for the hotel's shuttle landing pad located on the hotel's roof.

"Good work." Stacy said with a wag of her tail. "And dinner?"

"The restaurant says that our spot is still reserved." Rhajir answered.

Stacy had made that reservation a bit later on aboard the Dying Breath when she had been packing her things. She had been a bit peckish when she had placed the sphere carefully into her kitbag and had gotten her chamber's AI to choose somewhere to eat for her in the city. It had read off a list of options and given a small description of each and she had chosen the one that seemed the most attractive. Money really wasn't a concern, so she had made sure that she had the best seats made available. She could hardly wait to dig her teeth into the juicy steak, but she had other things to attend to first.

"That's good." she grinned. "I'm getting a little hungry." Then she remembered that Eric was still with them. "Oh, and we're going to need a cot brought up to the room."

"He's staying with us?" asked Rhajir. The way that he said it wasn't demeaning or accusatory, simply curious.

"For a while, yes." she said as she tossed an approaching valet the keys to the PTV. "But let's get going. We'll worry about that later."

"Yes ma'am."

**

Eric went to the back of the elevator as Stacy and Rhajir followed him in. He leaned up against the small metal rail that lined the walls. The others spread out around the small lift and Stacy moved over to the small console to the right of the closing doors. She swiped a small data card under the scanner built into the bottom of the console and it emitted a small beep. Stacy stood back with a contented grin barely visible on her muzzle.

The lift started it's ascent and Eric finally realized why the hotel had eschewed the use of a transporter or turbo lift. The view was amazing. The hotel was just on the edge of the falls, and they spread out below him and slightly to his right in the final few moments of the sunset. The water glimmered in the waning light and he was treated to another sight that he had only seen a few times before.

The lights mounted off to the sides of the large, horseshoe-shaped portion of the waterfalls nearest to him lit up, bathing the cascading water with multicoloured light as the sun finally ducked away over the edge of the horizon and out of view. The lights danced across the falling water and he knew that they were doing so to a random music generator that could be heard if he had been down at the park.

Off to the sides of the lift and across the expanse of water on the other side, the buildings were starting to light up as well. Warm light spilled out of the tall structures that made up the bulk of the city's skyline and he could see the numberless streetlights that marched up and down the streets that lead to the suburbs and off to other urban centres as they powered up, their solar cells releasing the energy that they had gathered over the course of the day by way of golden light.

PTVs and other vehicles flitted in between the rank upon rank of streets and avenues that spread outwards from the falls, and Eric could even make out dozens and dozens of people as they passed by, shopping in the boutiques that lined the traffic routes, heading to dine, or just enjoying themselves in the rapidly cooling day.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" asked Sasha. "It's the first time that I've seen it from this angle."

"You've seen it before?" he asked as he looked up from the rapidly-shrinking view.

"I used to live here." she replied. "On twenty-second street."

"Huh..." he said quietly. He hadn't known, or even expected, that. She had taken her for a spacer by birth and this revelation surprised her. "Small world."

"Small galaxy." she countered. Rhajir gave a small chuff of halfhearted agreement. The relative silence that resulted, punctuated only by the old-fashioned elevator music that seemed almost inescapable, was broken by a feminine voice coming on over the speaker built into the roof of the elevator.

<Royal suite, sixty-third floor. Welcome Ms. Vaille. We hope that you enjoy your stay here at the Royal Niagara Falls Hotel and if you need anything, please feel free to use the console located to the right of the elevator call panel. We offer full 24-hour room service and would be proud to serve you. Thank you for choosing Royal Niagara Falls Hotel, the gem of the water's edge.>

A small 'ding' followed and the burnished silver doors slid open directly to the room that Stacy had rented. And Eric was floored.

"It seems that 'Royal' is a good word to describe it." said Stacy as she strode out of the lift.

The room was incredible, that much was obvious even as Eric took a single step into the immense suite. Immediately out of the elevator was a small waiting room with a gloriously soft beige carpet that it looked possible to drown in, several small pictures, a full-sized closet fronted by a rich, imported nalwood double-door, and a small couch placed in front of the pair of openings that led to the room proper. A small room with a pair of padded leather seats and a low wooden table, obviously a security point, was provided off to the left. Even though it was for security, the wonderful crown moulding and elegant light-brown walls present in the entrance carrying on even in the utilitarian room.

To the right of the entrance was a small bathroom resplendent in stark white furnishings and a shower that looked as if it could fit two taurs with ease. A pair of double sinks were set into the stone counter top and a large mirror hung over them, illuminated by lights that were placed into the moulding. The cool marble floor was beautiful in its various shades of whites and browns and an expensive throw rug broke up the expanse of hard stone.

Back out of the bathroom and through the entryways into the suite itself was a ridiculously well appointed den. An array of seats and couches padded with more cushioning and soft fabrics that could make even a very shrewd Merraki drool with longing were placed in a sort of circle about a rounded wooden coffee table in the centre of the room and atop a fibrous area rug, the carpeting of the entrance absent and replaced by a floor of gorgeous marble. There was a very large screen set into a partition wall to the left of the arrangement that served to separate the den from the dining area and the ceiling was easily twice the height as it was elsewhere to accompany the second level balcony that curved out of the area directly above the entryway.

The wall farthest from the entrance was dominated by a series of large windows interspersed in between supports covered with ludicrously rich velvet drapes even though the windows themselves would be able to tint much in the same way that a starship's could. They overlooked a small veranda with a small hot tub and a couple of comfortable sunbathing chairs protected from the edge by a glass railing. A fine crystal chandelier was hung from the ceiling above the coffee table, its many crystalline shards spreading light to every corner of he room, and a fresh flower arrangement was placed directly below it.

Proceeding to the right revealed a petite bedroom with a patterned carpet and fine cabinets. The room was not the master, instead being for anybody else who would be staying with the fortunate guest. A closet completed the room.

Heading back out to the den and going past it brought the guest to a dining area. More of the expansive windows and a set of steel-framed doors led out to the hot tub. The main area of the dining room was taken up by a sturdy nalwood table surrounded by matching chairs put upon an area rug much like the one in the den. There was no kitchen in the suite, implying that any food would have to be ordered up to the room. A small transporter obviously built for food cemented the idea.

Off to the left of the dining area was a set of heavy wooden doors placed just right on well-maintained hinges so that they swung open easily the led to a room with a fabulous spiral stairway leading up to the second level and another set of doors to the right.

Heading through the doors revealed the master suite in all of its glory. An immense bed (which currently was raised a foot and a half from the floor but with the option to be raised or lowered for taur guests that enjoyed sleeping on a lower place) was against the wall to one side in between wooden side tables and beneath the light of another crystal chandelier. Across from it was a screen that rivalled the one in the den and what looked like a holographic communications hub recessed into the wall. A stand-up mirror took up one of the small corners nearest the doors while a walk-in closet placed on a cant held the other one. The far wall was completely composed of a window that overlooked the falls below, the lights from their nighttime display easily visible. A small en-suite bathroom was behind a wooden door on the other side of the bed.

The second level was taken up completely by pair of smaller chambers that were larger than Eric's own room and a small balcony looking over the den.

"Maybe we won't need a cot after all." supplied Rhajir as he came down the steps to see where Stacy and Eric were relaxing in the den. "More than enough beds here, ma'am."

"Good." commented Stacy breezily. "When was our dinner again?"

"In an hour, ma'am."

"Hmm... Well, I should set about getting our stories straight. I'll be in the master." said Stacy as she struggled to her feet from the overstuffed couch she had been sprawled out upon.

"Very good, ma'am." intoned Rhajir as he took up a chair opposite to Eric.

**

Stacy closed the door to the master bedroom behind her with a solid click. She had already made up the backstories that she, her bodyguard, and the tag-along would be using for the next few days; it had been a feeble excuse to get away and she knew that Rhajir had seen through it easily enough. It was hard to tell if Eric had bought it, the look of amazement on his face from seeing the room having made his features difficult to read, but she didn't care. She turned the latch on the handle and headed for the holocomms station built into the wall after engaging the sound dampers so handily provided by the illustrious hotel (it was hardly the best hotel she had stayed in, the Claw Peninsula Resort on Chakona easily claiming that title, but it was more than adequate for her needs). She straightened her hair again as she hit a few buttons on the touch panel. After keying in the appropriate codes, an image of Ashley materialized in flickering blue and white tones in front of her, the comms panel projecting the image by way of an array of projectors set into the ceiling.

"Captain." Ashley nodded.

"Ashley. How are things aboard the ship?" Stacy asked. The Dying Breath was her pride and joy, and she liked knowing what was going on with it at all times.

"Well, aside from a very curious freighter large enough to have its own gravitational pull, and a small sloop trying to edge close enough for a deep-scan, everything is going as planned. The cargo from the Deliverance has been sold at Station X-24 at about the amount that you guessed it would." reported Ashley with a mild shrug.

"Did you get the names of the ships?" frowned Stacy. It would hardly be the first time that an overly-curious ship tried to take a gawk at the Breath, but it wasn't something that she enjoyed. At best it was just a curious captain or two trying to size up the newcomer in-system. At worst, it was Blackwatch, the Star Fleet task force that liked to think of itself as invisible. Truth was that it was hardly known, so she supposed their self-appreciation was for a reason. But Stacy had had a run-in with a small bunch of the shadow-op members of Blackwatch and had developed a healthy respect for the group after they had attempted to board her ship.

Stacy had been travelling to the Eradni system and decided to take a sublight break to check the sensors when a 'freighter' had popped out of the warp and transported a task force through her lowered shields and onto the Breath. The fight had raged across the ship and both sides had suffered casualties by the time that she had bested their commander on the bridge in a small skirmish and called a cease-fire. Both groups at the time had known that to push it any further would wipe both sides from the engagement, so she had permitted the attacking group free passage from her ship as long as they agreed to leave the system immediately. The commander of the group had agreed, a knife held to his throat being enough to persuade him to her terms, and had simply left to pester somebody else after gathering his dead and wounded. Stacy had not survived the encounter unscathed, however, and had needed to find replacements for twenty of her crew, who had either been killed in the fight or wounded enough to be useless aboard a spacecraft after they had fully healed. She had not had any more trouble from the specialist corps since then, but she wasn't going to take any chances. She had also needed to change the signal signature of her ship afterwards to ensure that it wouldn't match any of the scans that the freighter had managed to take during the shipboard fighting, something that had cost enough to make the next three raids barely enough to cover the expense.

"Sensor reports say they are the Folly and Crucible respectively."

"Keep them at arms length and make sure that the dampers are working full-time. If they want to cause trouble, fake an engine problem and take up position at one of the orbitals. That should keep them far enough away to shake them off if we need to. Don't forget to alert 'Fleet of the 'malfunction'; I'm sure that they will make a problem for anyone trying to hound us."

"Will do, ma'am." Ashley bowed her head. "I'll keep you posted about anything else that should come up."

"Good. Dismissed." nodded Stacy. She cut the link and tapped in a fresh set of numbers.

The tone rang for a few moments, and Stacy flicked an ear in annoyance. Finally a response came in the form of a voice-only link. "What?" The voice was gruff and sounded annoyed.

"Hello Gavin." said Stacy. There was a pause.

"Stacy." came the eventual reply. The annoyance was gone now.

"You still want that drink?" she asked.

"I don't know; are you gonna kill me if I refuse?" coughed Gavin.

"Maybe." Stacy was joking. She would only cut out his tongue. The mission was foremost in her mind.

"Well then," the man considered, "I guess I'll be seeing you soon. I take it you want our get-together to be on Titan again?"

Stacy thought it over. The bar on Titan, the Starfield, was spectacular. It was her all-time favourite place to just relax for a while. It would be nice to see it again after so long.

"You got it." she smirked.

"Good. If I remember correctly, you have to buy this time." Gavin sounded a little bit pleased with himself, and Stacy frowned. She had forgotten about that. Gavin was quite the drinker, and despite her respectable resources, she knew that he would squeeze her for every drop that he could.

"Fine. We'll meet there on Wednesday, nine o'clock." she said.

"That's fine by me." said the voice as the link was terminated from his end. Stacy turned the console off and was about to head back to the den and get ready for dinner, checking her appearance in the mirror placed in the corner, before another thought came to her.

She whirled around, a look of determination setting her mouth into a slight frown. She tapped at the device again, keying in a code that only a few people knew. She double-checked the numbers once before hitting 'Call' and stood back with her arms crossed. The dial tone rang several times before the link was established.

The hologram of a middle-aged man sitting back in a chair flickered into being and Stacy growled lightly. The man was dressed in a fashion similar to the way that Stacy had been earlier. He had on a heavy overcoat that was draped around his skeletal frame and a pair of pocket-laden cargo pants bunched up around his legs. A bandolier strung with shipboard tools mimed the purpose of Stacy's usual equipment belt and a pair of phaser pistols hung from his waist. His thinning hair was hidden beneath a cap that Stacy thought made him look moronic. His gaunt, yet patrician, features looked up at her from beneath it.

"Well, well, well." said the man as he smiled thinly. "Aren't you a sight for sore old eyes, Miss Smith." His voice was a cold rasping that was akin to the noise Stacy imagined a snake would make if it tried to cross a sheet of coarse sandpaper.

"Morris," she sneered, "I don't appreciate getting shot at."

"Oh, so my lads found you okay then?" Morris's Irish accent was dripping with amusement.

"They did. But I doubt they'd be able to tell you as much." Stacy said as one ear flicked.

"Hmm... That is a pity." said Morris, enunciating the response to make it sound as if he believed the complete opposite. "I really liked those few; they showed real promise."

"If you think that your goons are going to scare me away from this, you're wrong." she said adamantly.

"Scare you?" chuckled Morris, "Why, my dear lass, I never imagined they would. Think of them as a sort of test."

"Another test, Morris? I thought I passed all of your little 'tests'. The Convent has already accepted me. You lost. I won. Game over."

"The game is never over so long as you still draw breath, Miss Smith. I thought you of all people would know that." smiled Morris. "Besides, this is no longer over that petty squabble that we had. This is something... more."

"I don't have time for this, Morris. What I'm doing could change everything."

"Hmm... I don't doubt it. Oh, and another thing, Miss Smith. I hear that you have bent Erebus's ear to your cause already. I must say, the rest of the Convent was shocked when they heard that; even I couldn't believe it. Quite the risk; he could easily shut you down faster than even that Foster character ever could."

"Erebus is only a part of this because I need his resources." she said, downplaying how much both she and Erebus were relying on one another. The relationship was almost symbiotic by his point, but it was better that Morris didn't know that.

"I wonder if he ever gets lonely up on that precipice of his." wondered Morris aloud. "All those resources, all that power; I imagine it would be quite intoxicating."

"You sound jealous, Morris." grinned Stacy.

The man's hologram fixed her with a level stare. "I'd have to be a god not to." The other pirate captain stood suddenly. "Well, my ship is entering night cycle, and we can't all look as good as you do without sleep. I believe this call is adjourned." He reached down to close the link.

"You'd better stay out of the way, Morris." hissed Stacy just before he could touch the console. "Or else I swear that you will rue the day that you crossed me."

Morris paused and grinned mischievously at her, his eyes flashing with evil intent.

"Is that a threat, Miss Smith?" he asked. "I am shocked that a member of the Convent would resort to such low blows."

"Consider it a promise." she growled as she cut the link from her end, content to have the final word.

**

It got very awkward, very fast after Stacy left. The two furs were sitting in the den of the suite, and, quite frankly, they were just trying to think of anything that would ease the tension.

"So... You're a-?" started Eric in a feeble attempt to start a conversation. Rhajir must have felt as odd as Eric did, because he leapt at it in an attempt to break the silence and grabbed on to it with both hands.

"A pirate? Yes, though I fear that Madame Smith dislikes the word. She says that it is... archaic and, if I remember correctly, 'forlorn'." he nodded, his green eyes blinking slowly.

"Why? I noticed that she didn't... respond well to it... But why?" Eric had more than noticed that Stacy had bristled whenever the word was mentioned and it had irked him. That IS what she is, isn't it?

"No idea. I'm just her guard." he stated flatly as he made a gesture to turn on the screen off to the side of the sitting area. Eric knew that he was purposefully being vague with his response.

"You're not more than that?" grinned Eric suggestively as the tiger fur started flicking through entertainment channels at random. He never lingered on any station for more than a few seconds, trying to find something interesting.

"No." said Rhajir as he glanced once more in his direction. "I am not any more, nor any less, than that. She accepts my council on matters of security, but I'm afraid that you will not find anything more between us, and rightly so."

Eric nodded slowly and turned his attention to the screen as Rhajir finally found something that he deemed worth watching. It was a show going through how Star Fleet made its heavy cruisers in orbit about Tyriea. The chakat host, a spotted taur with long raven-coloured hair was explaining how the warp drives worked. Shi pointed out a few of the key components being assembled inside the immense craft, none of the parts' names sticking with Eric, and was in the process of interviewing the chief engineer on the project.

"They do it all wrong." grunted Rhajir. Eric gave a noise of curiosity.

"Seems to work." he shrugged.

"It works, but not as well as it could. You see, there was a time where every species had their own unique way of getting up to faster-than-light speeds. The Rakshani basically ripped a hole in space doing so and they were by far the slowest moving. Mind you the machinery could survive several heavy hits before finally breaking down, but it was crude. The Merakki. Now those guys had it figured out. Well, except for the fact that the smallest imbalance or fluctuation in the core could see them emerge in the centre of a sun, that is. They were fast and small, but that little bit of fragility made their tech hazardous."

"And us Terrans?" Eric asked.

"We were somewhere in between. Ours was on par with that of the Voxxans, but it still wasn't as fast as the Merakki, or as stable as the Rakshani's."

"Well, you say that it isn't like that anymore. What happened?"

"Times changed. We needed a standardized tech, so we did what we could." Rhajir frowned. "You still see some of the old stuff around, but its all in either really bad shape or expensive to upkeep."

"How is that wrong?" Eric asked.

"Just the way that they did it. They didn't bother taking the best parts from everything. They screwed up and took the middle ground."

"And how would you know?" Eric didn't know much about ships, but he knew that they worked and that alone was enough for him. Rhajir snorted.

"I'm no engineer," he said lightly, "but I know a good amount about starcraft."

Eric gave a small grunt of acceptance and looked back at the show. The chakat was roaming about the inside of an unpowered cruiser's engine room, showing off the multitude of support struts and security measures in place that would stop a reactor meltdown and looked to be enjoying hirself.

"What's your- er... Ms. Smith's ship like?" asked Eric. He had never been on a shuttle before, much less any kind of starship.

"Lethal." shrugged Rhajir. It was the only reply he got for a long time before the tiger fur flicked the screen off. Eric thought he looked like he was thinking something over before he shook his head and grinned mildly. "Just like her."

"Yeah, she's quite the femme fatale, alright." coughed Eric.

"More than you know." laughed Rhajir, "I watched her kill a Fenrisian canid denmother with nothing more than her knife. I think she still has the skull in her personal chambers aboard the Breath."

Not knowing what a 'Fenrisian canid' was, but knowing full well that killing a 'denmother' with a knife was more than likely something impressive, Eric nodded passively. "And how many people?"

Rhajir threw him a speculative look. "Enough." he huffed. Eric frowned and looked to the floor. Rhajir caught the look that crossed the jackal fur's face and chuckled.

"What?" asked Eric, wondering if he had just done something funny. Rhajir smiled and turned his head towards the double doors that were visible past the partition wall in the dining room. Seeing that they were still solidly closed, his tail flicked and he became a bit more serious.

"You still think she's going to kill you, don't you?" he asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

"I- Well... I... Yes." he admitted. "Honestly, the only thing keeping me from shitting my pants right now and making a break for the door is the fact that you would chase me, break my legs, and haul me right back." Eric heaved a ragged breath, the admission of the fear that had been slowly building inside of him somehow comforting.

"Hmm... I wouldn't break your legs, but I would stop you from moving." sad Rhajir. Eric knew that Rhajir was enjoying teasing him, but it didn't make what he said any less terrifying. The tiger fur cleared his throat before continuing. "The pictcasts are terrible for our image, I'm afraid. Sure, I've killed people, but only when they tried to act out against us or threatened the Captain."

"But you still killed them." Eric pointed out.

"Yes, I did." admitted Rhajir as if he had just been asked if he wanted his reciept.

"So what would stop you from killing me?" This drew a long pause in the conversation. Rhajir shrugged.

"You shouldn't be so worried." he said at last.

"No?" asked Eric sceptically.

"No." echoed Rhajir.

"Why not?" Eric's ears were now fully alert and focused intently on the tiger fur.

"Because she likes you." Seeing the look that plastered itself across Eric's face, he laughed again, a quiet chortle. "Not that way, Romeo. She has other interests there. No, I mean that she's not going to kill you."

It was as if a weight lifted from Eric's shoulders and crushed his fears underneath its immense bulk. "Really? This isn't some kind of cruel trick?"

"Nope. What you did at the spaceport saw to that. Besides, you didn't do anything wrong. We may be thieves, but we ARE honourable, no matter what the pictcasts say." the tiger fur was grinning now. "And when you brought her that bag? Was she ever pissed! It's a good thing that she tends to gain a healthy respect for those who attack somebody else who is obviously out of their league."

"Hey now-"

"Don't kid yourself, you would have been killed if she hadn't decided to help you out. " winked Rhajir. "You showed what you could do, though." He looked around conspiratorially, once again throwing a quick glance towards the doors. "And, well... Don't tell her I told you this, but I think she's going to ask you to join us."

"Join you!?!" sputtered Eric, coming instantly to his feet. "I'm no pirate!"

Rhajir basically tackled him in an attempt to shut him up, bowling him over back onto the couch. Eric felt the tiger fur's claws scratch against his muzzle as he tried to force his mouth shut. "Shut it! She'll hear you! What part of 'don't tell her' means yell your lungs out?!" Eric was still mumbling through the tiger's hands, and his voice would only have raised had he not been muffled.

"Rhajir, please let go of Mr. Chandler." The words cast the room into silence, and Rhajir quickly got up off of the disgruntled Jackal fur and came to rigid attention, leaving Eric in a heap on the couch, the cushions that had been placed carefully upon it now scattered. Stacy was leaning up against the small wall between the dining room and the den, a smug smile splitting her sleek muzzle. She had her arms crossed below her breasts and her tail lashed about in amusement. "And yes, that was the plan."

Eric pushed himself to his feet and coughed lightly. Stacy continued. "I was going to wait a bit longer, but it seams the cat let the surprise out of the bag."

Eric couldn't stand it anymore. "What makes you think that I want to join you?" he asked with an edge of wariness. Stacy's right ear flicked, causing her earrings to jangle freely for a moment.

"Because I can tell you'd be good at it." She grinned at him wolfishly. "So, what do you say? Do you want to be a member of my crew?"

Chakat Universe is © Bernard Doove and used with his permission.

None of the characters or ships mentioned here are copyrighted, and if you're writing something feel free to use them. However, I would appreciate it if you told me what you were doing first.

This has grown to be a bit more than a trial run at this point, and I have decided to make this a weekly/biweekly thing. I will work on one chapter a week that will be more or less the length of the previous chapters. I NEED comments though, and openly wish to hear about any thoughts that you, the reader, have about this tale so far. And I am entertaining the idea of making this story interactive. The 'contest', if successful, could be the first on a list of 'reader-generated innovations' that I have in mind. Stay tuned and email me if you think this is a good idea.

(Almost) always here to reply, drop me a line at [email protected] if you have something to say or just want to say 'Hi'.