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PREVIOUSLY: The pirates have come to the galaxy's largest black market, a planet called Baralland, to trade in WHISPER'S demo fighters, but with Laurine on their tail, Red Klaw is not far behind...
In a luxurious transport ship, Red Klaw sits at a heavy wooden desk while the blur of hyperspace fills the large porthole behind him. A vid screen sits in front of him, General Goddard is on the other end. The picture is broken and full of static, "--Dubaal has a broken wrist, and th-- completely destroyed, even lost-- --prints, it's all gone! Rescue ships-- day or so."
"Who the hell was it?!" Red Klaw demands.
"Looked like --nch of nobody's. --evidently they came for you."
Red Klaw leans back to ponder this, he's shocked that anyone would dare move against him. "Did the security cameras get any photos."
"Nothing --use, they clearly had help, somebody on --inside. I've got men on it, I'll let you know--. In the -- time, get my ship back!" The screen blacks out, conversation over.
Red Klaw snarls at the screen. "Your ship!" He snorts. He punches the com button on his left, "How long?!" He demands.
"No more than twenty hours, sir." His pilot responds timidly.
"Make it less!" He growls.
In the demo fighters from WHISPER'S battle bays, Rue leads Val toward the surface of the only, barely hospitable, planet in the solar system; Baralland. Most of the planet's surface is ravaged by violent storms. Ancient rivers have cut vast cannons across the equatorial regions. The massive caves in the area have long made great hide outs for criminals, over the years seedy colonies have grown in these caves. Now days, dirty and dangerous cities sprawl under the surface of the planet.
Rue flies straight for Kross's junk yard, just inside a cave very near the surface. Rue steers his fighter into the cave entrance, Val is right behind him, far enough back to allow for Rue's shaky piloting skills.
Just inside is a dingy looking shed, the junk yard lays beyond this. It's a treasure trove of stolen vehicles, bullet ridden junkers, and other "found" items.
Ungracefully Rue drops his ship in front of the shed. Val gently sets his ship behind Rue's. They cut the engines and crawl out of the cockpits.
A round, squatty, man, who is nearly as wide as he is tall, ambles out of the shed, he wipes his greasy hands on his filthy overalls as lets out a long slow whistle. He doesn't see many Galactic Marine ships out here, especially not this shiny and new.
Rue walks around the fighter and smiles, "Kross! How the hell are you?" The two men embrace, then Kross turns back to the ships
Kross grins at him still eyeing the ships, "Well! Rue Van Gaard, what have you brought me?" Val comes over to join them.
Kross wanders around the fighters, slowly inspecting them. When he speaks, he is careful to keep his voice casual, "Well now, these are fine ships. They appear to be fully operational?" Rue nods. "I could give you... fifty thousand a piece for them."
"What?!" Val blurts out, "They're worth well over a hundred!"
Kross shuffles back over to join them, he glares at Val, "And I suppose you have a proper title of ownership?"
"Well, no..." Val falters. "But the parts alone--"
Kross ignores him to sneer at Rue, "New book keeper?"
"No, pilot actually." Rue grins and throws Val a little wink.
"'Bout time, you fly like shit! Maybe now you'll stop bringing me banged up wrecks. I'll give you seventy-five each."
Rue chuckles at Kross's insult. "What we really need is a good ship to shore, something fast and well armed."
Kross eyes him for a moment, wondering what Rue's up. But he has a strict no-questions-asked policy, so he shrugs and turns toward the junk yard, "Yeah, of course you do."
Rue and Val follow him into the junk yard, it stretches farther than they can see. They're so close to the surface that a transparent dome lets in plenty of natural light.
Kross leads Rue through the heaps of ships, parts, and various other unidentifiable hunks of machinery. Val wanders behind them, poking here and there, marveling at the wonders buried under the grease and dirt.
Kross shows them a couple of very basic transport ships, nothing that really lights their board. "C'mon Kross, you know those fighters are worth a mint!" Rue gently prods.
The round little man sighs, Rue is as astute as ever, but it had been worth a try. "Okay, I do have something that's right up your alley."
He leads them around behind a massive broken down hunk of a space ship. Tucked out of sight is a small sleek ship that looks a little like a hawk. It comfortably seats eight, with room for cargo. Val's face lights up, he walks over and starts inspecting it. Rue likes the sight of it too, but he plays it cool, "No guns?"
"Not yet, but--" Kross shrugs, not wanting to give up any more than he absolutely has to, "We might be able to work something out."
After Val makes a quick inspection and gives Rue the thumbs up, Rue and Kross hammer out the fine points of the deal. Val continues to pick over every aspect of the little ship. It's definitely not new, but it has been gently used. It has a powerful engine and excellent maneuvering capabilities for both in and out of atmosphere.
When Rue comes back, he looks pleased. "It'll take Kross a couple of days to install the weapons, but I talked him out of some serious fire power! He threw in this, he said if you're going to be our pilot, you're gonna' need it." He hands Val a small, but serious looking, hand gun wrapped in a hip holster.
Val is shocked and delighted, "Wow! Thanks."
"Now, let's go get some food and maybe some new cloths," Rue nods at the prison jumpsuit Val still wears, "Then we can go back and get the others."
Kross gives them a loner transport to use. It's an abused heap of junk, but it flies. Mostly.
Not far from Kross's is a series of massive domes, much larger than the junk yard. It is the planet's claim to fame; The Market, the galaxy's largest, most extensive black market. So big in fact, that it forms the bulk of a sprawling city.
Rue directs Val toward the outskirts of the city. Meanwhile in a dingy bar, deep in the heart of The Market, Red Klaw's man Herrick, a half mechanized monster, rallies his gang of steroid ridden, mechanically enhanced thugs...