Like I said. FILLER. Besides, I haven't even watched the said show and I don't intend on starting now. *gets out scalding acid to burn creators of said T.V show* And Chapter 14's up! Hooray!
---
Chapter 14

It had been far too long since the War Tavern was even close to being full. Most nights the place was nearly empty, perhaps due to its clientèle, with
even the most devoted patrons busy elsewhere on errands of their own, with no indication on when, or even if, they'd return. Because of this, management, such as it was, had been passed to a young adventurer who was looking for a bit of quiet time after being badly injured in an accident.

He'd been hoping to hear the famous tales of the tavern, the ones that bought in customers, and, at best, warned you not to make a fatal mistake in future. Of course, with word out that Devan's army was taking over an increasing number of worlds, it wasn't a surprise that it was full NOW. If they were to be invaded...they'd need every able-bodied person ready for combat.

Yet, on this night, the atmosphere was relaxed, they were still safe.

Yet, tonight, that was not the case. They were still safe. While the patrons inside the bustling building weren't as seasoned as many of the previous tale-tellers who'd once been within these walls, the tales they told were somewhat amusing. Nobody stood out, nothing exceptional was on the make.

With one exception.

Sitting at the back of the bar in a shadowed corner he'd occupied on and off for nine years (Sometimes for weeks at a stretch.) was someone who was
more than your usual mercenary. He was well known in The Business (And if you had to ask what The Business was, you weren't in The Business.) as
being someone who'd finish any job he agreed to, without complaint or asking for a pay rise. If you knew the right people, you could hire Max Remora, if you had the cash as well that is. He never told his tales, never revealed his employers and never, never quit. He was the mercenary's mercenary.

He was mostly hidden in shadow, something he preferred, but what was visible was cold and unnerving, especially to the blue rabbit who was explaining his problem. He knew something important and for it, had earned a few enemies, which he was eager to lose. It was a pity he only had 40 thousand in cash.

"A 'Tuf Turtle', only his shell was lined with platinum, a Lizard which also had the abilities of a chameleon, able to blend in with his environment and an alligator."

"Listen, buddy. It's not my job to listen to problems that don't concern me, and yours don't unless you have an offer that is even close to making it worth my while. Take a hike. I don't deal with cheapskates, so accept reality and just give up. Life ain't gonna
go your way forever."

"You don't understand! This could save lives! If I walk out of here, I'll be toast! The data I have here, it's invaluable! There's data on the enemy, and some split second images of a ship of unknown origin that had been seen in another sector. Something the officials on Carrotus might want to see! You're the only one capable of actually making those bounty hunters dust! The people of this bar have nothing compared to what you've accomplished! These three bounty hunters should be nothing to you! I'd hire someone else, but everyone else here is a weakling compared the exploits of what you've done, Remora!"

"Not my problem."

"You think you're so tough that you DESERVE to be paid an outrageous sum to deal with three bounty hunters! You're nothing more than a money-grubbing, low-life rat!" the rabbit shouted in anger, aiming a quickly armed plasma rifle at Remora's head.

Before he had the chance to pull the trigger, Max had already vanished behind his opponent and knocked him in the back of the head with part of his personal rifle. The rabbit collapsed to the floor in a crumpled heap. Nobody said anything, in situations like this it was wise to keep quiet. Out of the
shadows for the first time. Remora was tall and physically well-built for a rodent. Silvery fur covered his body and was dressed in just a vest and trousers.

The dark purple eyes, one with a deep scar scanned the room, waiting for someone to make a move, or an angry remark. None did.

Looking towards the bar-keeper, the adventurer quickly picked up the unconscious patron and placed him behind the bar and not before time either. The bounty hunters were almost at the door. They looked exactly like the rabbit had described, but also rather pathetic. Certainly they had the usual
mercenary swagger, the firearms and obligatory minor scars. It was evident from the start they had no idea what they were doing, any minute now there'd be empty threats, maybe a few warning shots, and then the entire clientèle of the War Tavern would rise up like a well oiled machine and flatten them.

Max took the brief pause to spare everyone the trouble.

"I'm a MOUSE. Not rat. There's a big difference between the two, you carrot-munching moron. You consider yourself lucky that I'm helping you out for free today...And next time, call me by my FIRST name. Don't forget it."

The alligator was halfway through his rather predictable introductory speech when a shot knocked the weapon he was holding out of his hand. It landed
heavily on the floor, smoking. There was a yell of fury and the remaining two took aim at their attacker. Max didn't even bother with the fancy footwork,
simply standing still, twirling his gun until JUST the right time, and simply gunning down the two assailants.

"What?! W-Who?!"

The alligator was shocked, a shot had passed straight through the turtle, splattering several drinkers with green slime, the lizard had tried the blending-in trick, but had be hit point-blank before he'd managed to fade half way. A third shot dispatched the alligator quickly and cleanly. Nobody moved, or even looked up from their drinks, whatever had happened, it was over with now and someone else could deal with it.

"And that was the big problem? Barkeep, you have a mess to clean up. Platinum? How stupid can you get? What a disgrace."

With that, he headed back to his seat in the shadows. That was the target practice over then, and a boost to his reputation for anyone who hadn't heard of him already. Now to wait for his patron to wake up and hand over the cash.

"Oh, and I'll have a double, on the new guy."



* * *

The ship had been detected, that much was known. Monitors of all kinds were arranged about and through the vessel, keeping track of all incoming

radiations and broadcasts. Unlike in popular mythology, the ship couldn't actually detect television broadcasts, not, at least, without being close to a planet, but anything scanning it, be it in infrared, visible, even neutrino tomography, would be picked up. And the ship had detected a detector,
something that had, by sheer luck managed to get close enough to take visible light images, yet far enough away to avoid an easy capture.

The Mind behind the ship considered this. There was no cause for action, the scan had been brief, and had not shown anything of interest, of that It was
sure. A reconstruction of the data was simple enough, and all the scanner would have seen was a dark shape against a distant moon, a mere curiosity
perhaps, certainly nothing that could be used against them. No risk.

Because the Mind hated risk, it was the one thing that It had learned to avoid in Its long, long time among the stars. But It had been careful, and made plans, captured lone ships or explored abandoned wrecks. It knew about this galaxy, and the worlds in it, It knew where everything was, and what was going on. It knew when to attack and when to leave others to do so. And now was time for it to begin, the fleet moved silently in the void above them, if

it could be called above.

If ever there was a weakness common to spacefaring races, it was the tendency to treat space like a rubber sheet. Not just in the physics sense, but as a place where up and down didn't exist. This approach made sense close to worlds, where things had to operate in the orbital plane of a systems star, but the limited approach had severe drawbacks in deep space.

* * *

Rodget Penrose lay back in his chair and yawned. Dear lord, how dull. A brief look over the monitors showed everything pretty much at normal, with the exception of the left stabilizer, which nobody in their right mind would bother to fix.

It had been a dull day in a dull week in a dull month, in what would probably be a dull career. Mining the asteroid belt sounded fine and dandy when you were sitting about on your homeworld, but in reality it was a cold, grubby and lonely venture. Rodget took a swig of some unidentified beverage. Lord knew what went into it, the technicians made the stuff, and he let them in exchange for a few bottles on the side. If you took enough, you went blind, but just before that you lost consciousness and could escape the morbid reality of the universe for a few brief hours. He-

A shape rose out of the darkness in front of him, sleek and black like solid vacuum. Rodget had just enough time to gape uselessly before the first shot
welded his body to his chair.


* * *

The Mind observed. The mining fleet had been well armed, indeed, it was almost the only defense of this distant colony. The entire attack had taken 14.38 seconds, within 1% of predicted time. And nobody had noticed, that was the important thing. The next target was 146.39 light years distant at vector

30,93,42.

The fleet moved on.