[Ishmael Autolycus]

There were certain disadvantages to atheism, Tiye Carduchi reflected sourly as she surveyed the tangled mass of wreckage that only hours before had been the Granuaile's Revenge's Slipstream Core. If nothing else, it would at least give her the satisfaction of damning that all-too-accurate Drago-Kasov missileer and his whole misbegotten Pride to the deepest pits of Hell. And if the initial damage hadn't been bad enough, the desperate, twisting course the privateer's helmsman had piloted through the 'stream to try and shake off the pursuing frigates would have put a massive strain on the engines even if they'd been in perfect shape to begin with. As it was, the engines had literally torn themselves apart, stranding them in some deserted system as far off the beaten path as it was possible to get and still remain within Known Space. The sublight engines were still operational, but even at full power they wouldn't reach an occupied system for a good century or two. "Give me some good news, Galen."

"The kid's got a skull fracture, both arms busted, and three of her ribs stove in," the voice of the Granuaile's Medical Officer answered. "Just missed collapsing a lung. I won't know any more until she wakes up, but she'll live."

"What about Fulton?"

"He didn't make it, Captain."

Tiye grimaced. Fulton might have been able to cobble something together out of this wreckage, at least enough for the Granuaile to limp home, but it was Curie's first voyage, and she just didn't have the experience. "Let me know when she wa-"

"Slipstream exit event, Captain to the Bridge," the voice of the Granuaile's second in command broke in. "Unknown vessel exiting slipstream, Captain to the-"

"What have we got, Bligh?" Tiye demanded as she entered the Bridge.

"Single exit event, ma'am," Bligh Medes responded. "Attempting to identify on passive only."

Tiye nodded as she slid into her Command Chair. "Keep me informed."

"Aye ma'am." Instincts as old as the Nietzschean species itself raised the crew's collective boneblades, while even older instincts held them silent and still as they sought to evade their hunters' notice. "It's a freighter, ma'am," Bligh reported finally. "Probably an independent, this far out."

"Or a smuggler," one of the Bridge crew chimed in.

"Can we manage an intercept?" Tiye asked.

"Not in the shape we're- hold it." Bligh held up a hand. "Target has altered course. They'll be passing within ten thousand klicks of our position."

Tiye grinned wolfishly. "Plot an intercept course, minimal power."

"Aye, ma'am, minimal power. Time to intercept two hours, sixteen minutes."




Tiye surveyed the small crew of the captured freighter as they knelt on the deck in front of her. Two Humans, the male of the pair sporting a dataport just behind his ear, a Magog in monk's robes, and a- "What exactly are you?"

"I'm Trance," the purple-skinned whatever exclaimed brightly. "It's lucky we found you when we did."

Tiye blinked. "Lucky?" she echoed.

"Oh yes," Trance nodded. "You'd've been dead for sure by the time another ship came through."

"And what a tragedy for the Nietzschean species that would have been," the male human smirked.

"Harper, behave," Trance admonished. "I'm sure they're really very nice people, once you get to know them."

Tiye shook her head, deciding to leave the question of whether or not the creature really was as naïve as she seemed for a later time. "Fortunately for you, we are nice people. More or less."

"Well, since we're all such nice people here, more or less, how about you untie us and we'll be on our way," the woman said. "After all, I doubt a cargo of Than wheat is really the kind of thing you and the Fab Four here are looking for," she finished, gesturing towards the four members of the Granuaile's crew standing behind them with drawn weapons.

Tiye smiled. "Oh I have no doubt that's what's on your cargo manifest, Captain, and I might even find some, if I were to open up your holds. But this ship has engines that wouldn't be out of place on vessel twice this size, and despite its rather unprepossessing exterior, it seems to be a solidly built craft. This is no more a grain hauler than the Granuaile is, which makes me wonder exactly what kind of cargo you really are hauling, Captain...?" Tiye let her voice trail off questioningly.

"Valentine," the woman responded. "Beka Valentine. Captain and Owner of the independent merchant vessel Eureka Maru. And you are?"

"Tiye Carduchi, out of Deborah, by Suleiman, Captain of the Faolchu Pride vessel Granuaile's Revenge. And I am looking for a qualified engineer," she added, turning her head to look at Harper once more.

"Oh hell no," Harper exploded, rising halfway to his feet before the muzzle of a gauss gun pressing against the base of his skull halted his movement.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Captain Carduchi," Beka said icily as Harper sank back down. "My crew is not for sale. At any price."

"And let me make one thing perfectly clear to you, Captain Valentine," Tiye snapped, "Faolchu Pride has never, and will never, use slaves, or serfs, or indentured servants, or any other kind of forced labor, and I deeply resent what you're insinuating."

"I'm not insinuating, I'm saying it outright," Beka snarled. "You-"

"Beka, please," the Magog spoke. "Captain Carduchi, you must admit that such sentiments are not the norm amongst most Prides."

"Those who rely upon the labor of others for their survival soon become dependent upon those others," Tiye quoted. "One of many sayings by Drago Museveni that are essentially ignored by most modern Nietzscheans."

"Wise words indeed," the monk murmured.

Tiye nodded, ingrained courtesy overriding her body's natural reaction to the organic killing machine. "Thank you...?"

"Brother Behemial FarTraveller," the Magog introduced himself.

"I apologize for not making my meaning clear from the outset," Tiye said, turning back to Beka. "My ship has been damaged, I need the strictly temporary services of a competent engineer to effect repairs, at least enough to allow the Granuaile to get home." Tiye smiled briefly at Harper, who looked back at her warily. "I've seen your engines, Mr. Harper, you are obviously more than competent at your work. Most impressive, especially for an Earther. I recognized the accent," she explained at his questioning look.

"Well that's me," Harper smirked. "Seamus Zelazny Harper, mudfoot super genius."

"All right, say Harper agrees to help you out," Beka spoke. "What's in it for him? And for the rest of us?"

"Would it interest you to know that the Granuaile has taken or destroyed almost seventy thousand tons of enemy shipping in the past two months alone?" Tiye responded. "And all of it belonging to the Drago-Kasov Pride or their allies?"

"Sounds like you don't like the Dragons any better than we do," Beka answered.

"When the Drago-Kasov chose to betray Kodiak Pride and seize the Progenitor's bones, Faolchu Pride was one of the few that chose not to participate, even going so far as to attempt to warn the Kodiak," Tiye answered. "In retaliation, the Drago-Kasov have annexed over eighty percent of my Pride's territory, and claim suzerainty over the rest, a claim they have so far been unable to enforce."

Beka grinned. "Captain Carduchi, I think we can do business with each other."



Three years later:

"Trance, do you remember our old friend Captain Carduchi?"

Trance looked up from her pruning. "You mean the one whose ship Harper repaired? Sure, Beka."

Beka held up a news flexi. "Seems she's just been named the new Matriarch of Faolchu Pride."

Trance smiled. "She was nice. I'm glad."

"You know, it occurred to me, Trance, that if we hadn't been delayed fixing that ship, we would have been long gone from Connemara Drift by the time Gerentex came through looking for a salvage crew."

Trance shrugged. "Guess we'll never know, will we?" she answered before turning back to her plant.

[ElJay]

Oh, well done milord--her ladyship is bound to love it!

[QueenTiye]

Indeed, I am very pleased! Thank you, Lord Ishmael. I am honored by your talent!

(Read that as - THANK YOU!!! THAT was awesome! )

HM07 (off to pay her next installment... )

[Lina]

Ouch! So, Dylan is still stuck in that Black Hole. Poor him

Lina