Category Tales From The Star & Garter

These Mercenary Hearts

Furieux dropped into realspace twenty klicks from the extraction zone with a knot in his stomach the size of a gin glass. He’d just received his orders from the Patocuda League via internal comms. The Last Dance purred and whined as he reduced the throttle and brought the pink Corvette to a halt. Rubbing the sweat from his face with both hands, he shuddered at the thought of what he’d just been asked to do.

Five point nine million credits. It’s just a job. It’s just a job like all the others.

Composing himself, he reached for the bottle and took a deep swig before tucking it safely under his flight chair within easy reach. It was a comfort knowing it was there.
He flicked the safety and the ship’s weapons deployed with a satisfying buzz and crunch.
The vessel before him fired a min...

No Fare

Furieux kicked the vending machine in the passenger lounge on Tavarez Enterprise as he waited for a fare. It didn’t budge at all. The can of ready mixed Centauri and Tonic had become well and truly stuck and he was becoming increasingly frustrated with both the lack of refreshment and the lack of clientele in this dump of a system.
He looked around the empty hall, making sure no one was watching him before he lifted and threw a particularly handsome artificial plant pot at the glass panel. It shattered, spilling fragments of glass all over the floor and he reached in and grabbed a couple of the previously reluctant tins. Cracking one open, he took a big swig followed by a very audible and satisfied sigh.
“Going to Bessemer Vision?” a voice cut in.
Furieux spun around to take in the vi...

Free Drinks & Dirty Drives

Furieux grinned as he sat down in the command chair of the Delicate Heart and made himself comfortable. Briefly checking the ship’s headcount manifest display, he noted that a handful of  passengers were still in the process of embarking, meaning he had a few minutes before take off. The larger VIP transport vessel, the Velvet Presley, had proven to cause problems at surface destinations when carrying people of of notoriety or fame;  the scanners of local SysAuth ships keen to search the cabins and holds of easy targets. The big Beluga simply wasn’t fast or maneuverable enough to make it reliable. The Orca on the other hand, handled like a souped up Viper in experienced hands, and Furieux was happy to be back in the cockpit of his favourite ship.

As the last of his travellers took to ...

Dog Days

When the last of his 36 passengers disembarked, Furieux shut off the Velvet Presley’s auxiliary power and sat for a moment in the darkened cockpit. Through the liner’s viewport, he absent-mindedly watched traffic darting around Sagan Orbital like so many industrious insects before letting loose a noisy yawn.

Over the last nine hours he’d been busy transporting government personnel from Matucanth to several surrounding star systems that fell under Archon Delaine’s jurisdiction as part of the new 8th Dragon contract. Adamantium’s pirate appeasing solution had been deemed  a stroke of genius, saving Coney Gateway and the system of Patocuda from economic disruption and the ravages of war at the hands of one of the galaxy’s most powerful criminals.

Furieux didn’t particularly like the idea...

Crystal Method

Falling … falling … falling …. thump

Furieux woke when his face connected awkwardly with the floor.

He groaned and pushed himself up onto all fours before unsteadily rising to his feet. His skin was slick with sweat and he wiped at his face with his hands before fully opening his eyes. He swayed gently in the centre of the prime VIP cabin on board the Velvet Presley – a room normally reserved for his most prestigious passengers – and tried to get a handle on his situation.

It wasn’t much of a step to come to the conclusion that he’d fallen out of bed; the sweat soaked sheets offering the biggest and only clue, and he winced as his head began to pound again. Rubbing at his temples, Furieux grimaced as the memories came flooding back...

8th Dragon Squadron – The Gin Dragon Returneth

At his sensor array terminal in the flight operations centre, operator Maxx Cantrell picked up the heat signature of a Saud Kruger Beluga Liner on an approach vector towards the station. As duty and protocol required, he opened up a comms channel and hailed the fast moving vessel.

“Saud Kruger Foxtrot Uniform Romeo, this is Coney Gateway Flight Control. Please abide by station law and submit a docking request before landing.”

Within seconds, the Beluga pilot keyed an auto-request to the station’s internal computer which would assign the first free landing pad capable of accommodating the huge ship, subject to clearance from its human controller. Cantrell’s fingers flashed across the terminal in an almost automatic manner.

“Docking request approved,” he responded, green-lighting one o...

Black Horizon – One for the Road

Star & Garter Bar, Raven’s Landing, Cai System.

“Something on your mind, commander?”

The question was delivered in a heavily accented and sweet cadence but Furieux ignored it and remained hunched on a barstool, swirling what little was left in the bottom of a square cocktail glass.  Normally, he’d never disregard the attentions of the fairer sex, but he recognised the voice and was not inclined to reply, rolling his eyes in mild annoyance.

“Oh, come now,” she pressed with a theatrical sigh. “What does a girl have to do to gain an audience with the great commander Furieux?”

Her words dripped with biting sarcasm but they were bound in good humour...

Black Horizon – The Largest Piece of Paipai

Arkan Ginova gazed thoughtfully through one of the many view ports on Griggs Camp station. The stars beyond glittered with promise against an infinite curtain of black; a sight that would capture the imagination of any hopeful dirt-sider who had never been lucky enough to travel among them. For the Fleet Commander of the Raven’s Scouts, it was as familiar a vista as a sunrise over Xyile. He watched as a pair of approaching vessels went about their business. The familiar form of a Zorgon Peterson Hauler and the old, dependable and still widely used Cobra Mk III buzzed over the platform like busy insects at a flower bed...

Black Horizon – Enter The Dragons

Sir, we are picking up heat signatures from orbit on an approach vector,” reported the tactical coordinator. “Visuals show five ships bearing 8th Dragon Squadron insignia.”

Dillon Reade rose from a chair in the centre of a makeshift operations room of Lambert Observatory. It was, in truth, simply the main control centre of the base. The surrounding walls were lined with displays and various other equipment that controlled, monitored and recorded the data received from the many sensor arrays that belonged to the outpost. Lambert wasn’t exactly the most ideal location for running operations on Strauss Reward, but it was better than a back room of the Star & Garter.

“Run each vessel’s registration details through pilots federation database,” ordered Reade...

Black Horizon – A Present from the Past

A few days after the meeting with Reade and the others, Furieux boarded the Deception and set a course for Xyile. Dillon had suggested that he store the Dropship in favour of utilizing one of the new Assault variants that belonged to the Raven fleet. Furieux agreed with him, thinking that the specialized combat vessel would be far more suited to the operations conducted in Bedaho and prepared to fly back to navy hangar on Raven’s Landing to pick it up.

Arriving at the headquarters of the Raven’s Scouts, Furieux once again exchanged pleasantries with the rather rambunctious and kooky lady who ruled the lobby outside Ginova’s office, Mizz Cara Fey. Ginova’s secretary was a larger than life character who’s flirtatious nature was akin to his own...