The windows on the 890 JUMP’s bridge offered an extraordinary view of the dying star, a spectacle of lights dancing on Ryykard’s face, but his eyes weren’t interested in the final struggles of this old celestial body. Instead, they were watching proudly as the last ships of his newly formed fleet assembled, making ready for the final leg of the journey. Most of the ships were already waiting at the rendezvous under instructions to remain hidden, but this last contingent was the most impressive, particularly the two Idris frigates and the retrofitted Javelin-class destroyer. Ryykard’s lips curled into a mischievous smile as he turned around and faced his lieutenants.



“All right, bring them on board. It’s time for a little theater, don’t you think?”



The four men standing in front of him started laughing. One of them had long scars on his face, gruesome lines that left deep shadows in the glimmering light of the old sun. Even without the scars, the other three weren’t much easier to look at. Each and every one of them had an intimidating presence and together they were downright frightening. That’s why he had picked them in the first place; fear was Ryykard’s favorite tool.



Rooke, the one with the scarred face, turned on his heels and headed for the central elevator. “I’ll bring them in” he said. He was always the one greeting their “guests,” the first face they saw as they climbed aboard. Ryykard found this to be especially effective from a psychological point of view. It set the tone for the rest of the meeting.



A few minutes later, they were all in the dining area turned meeting room, one level below the bridge. Ryykard was already seated at the table, a massive piece of furniture as ostentatious as most of the Wyvern Claw’s interior decorations. Six empty chairs were arranged around the table, plenty of elbow room. Six of the guests took their seats without a word, the heads of the crime organizations that Ryykard united to form the Dragon syndicate. Each of them had brought their second in command, but with no other seats at the table, the “extras” stood three feet away directly behind their bosses. Ryykard waited for them to settle in and watched as his own lieutenants took their positions.



“As you all know, the Hyperion transport has been lost” he said with feigned concern. “It is a significant loss but I believe our fleet is still sufficiently equipped to overwhelm the Silver Shield’s defenses. We should be able to secure the station before they can call in any reinforcements.”



Losing the weapons shipment was a slight inconvenience in their plan, but for Ryykard, it proved to be a blessing in disguise. Lushkin’s crew was specialized in the gun trade, so as the fleet grew in preparation for the attack, so had his influence over the other organizations. Word had reached Ryykard that Lushkin was planning to use the gained leverage to make a power play after the Dragon forces had secured the Alpha 9 station. Levi and Weisger had been ready to support him… until the Hyperion incident. That transport carried the equipment and ammo for their ships. That’s when Ryykard got his opening and he was determined to make the most of it.



“Markus, we will need you to share some of your missiles with Levi’s crew” he said, waiting for the inevitable reaction.



“What?! So it’s my boys who gotta pay for the fat man’s screw-ups?!” Markus had the shortest temper and Ryykard knew exactly what would follow. He suppressed a smile and kept his grave expression.



Lushkin’s counter came quicker than expected. He had gotten cocky. “I’m the one who got you those missiles in the first place. Don’t you forget it! If it weren’t for me you’d be throwing pebbles at them.” Lushkin was trying to project an image of strength, but in doing so he was only digging his grave even faster.



“Yeah, you got us those missiles all right… at a premium!” Lady Drako weighed in, always concerned about the profit margins. Ryykard had made a point of having a private conversation with her about the unusually high prices they had to pay for ammunitions lately.



Lushkin didn’t back down. It wasn’t like him. “You need stuff fast, you gotta cough up extra creds. It’s simple economics. Get it?” He despised Markus and Lady Drako, their crews had been fighting each other for years before Ryykard brought them under the same banner. Even then, it was fear more than cooperation that got them to work together. Neither of them could afford the other crews to rally against them.



Ryykard watched it all unfold as he had anticipated. Greed and mistrust were two of the things he had mastered exploiting. But there was one thing he enjoyed exploiting even more: fear.



He didn’t have to wait for it long. The arguments were going back and forth when Levi, who had remained silent until that point, suddenly slammed his fist on the table and gave Lushkin an angered look. “Markus is right! This is your fuckup. And we can’t afford mistakes like these. Not when we’re so close to our objective.”



Lushkin was taken aback, his eyes staring incredulously at Levi. This was his closest ally. As close as one would expect at least, considering they were all ruthless criminals. Ryykard savored every moment, watching Lushkin’s face change as it dawned on him what was really happening. Despite the temperature inside the ship being set to a cool 18 degrees, beads of sweat started rolling down the plump man’s temples. “There it is…” thought Ryykard, as fear started taking hold of Lushkin.



“You too?!” he shouted at Levi, more of an accusation than a question. He staggered to his feet, tipping the chair over. “You little weasel, I made you!” He turned for the exit and bumped straight into Rooke, scars twisted in a sinister smile. Lushkin let off an involuntary yelp and stumbled backwards. He saw the quick flash of a thin wire passing in front of his eyes. Before he could react, he felt the wire tighten around his neck, digging deep into the flab where his desperate fingers couldn’t reach it.



Anatoly’s arms ached as he pulled on the wire, fighting Lushkin’s hopeless struggles. A long minute later, his former boss was lying on the floor lifeless, like a whale stranded on the shore unable to support its own weight. He pushed the body out of the way with his boot, lifted the chair and sat down at the table. “Our crew will make amends for the Hyperion failure. I have checked our inventory and we have enough missiles to properly equip Levi and Weisger’s ships for the attack.” That was the price he had agreed to pay to move three feet forward and sit at the table.



Ever since Lushkin got up from his chair, Ryykard had stopped watching him. As much as he enjoyed seeing his enemy squirm in terror, he knew exactly what was going to happen. He had planned it all along. Instead, he carefully studied the reactions of the other five at the table. None of them were particularly fond of Lushkin, even the ones who had previously supported him, and they all wanted him to pay the price for failure. But they did not expect it to happen so soon and they did not expect Anatoly to be the one carrying out the sentence. A couple of them even flinched and looked over their shoulders for a split second. Ryykard was pleased. He had used their greed and mistrust to get this far and now fear started creeping in as well. His grip was tightening.



With the true purpose of the meeting out of the way, the rest of the topics went smoothly. The last pieces of intel they had gathered on the station’s defenses confirmed their stocks of munitions were more than adequate to overwhelm its defenses. Nobody had challenged the Silver Shield’s control of the region in a long time so they had become slack in their preparations, a perfectly ripe target. The Dragon would soon control the whole sector.



As the guests were departing the ship, Rooke leaned towards Ryykard and whispered “Just received an urgent transmission. You’ll want to hear this”.



“What is it?” Ryykard asked.



“Increasing the bounty paid off” Rooke said. “They caught one of the Hunter brothers.”



“Is it the agent?”



“Nah, the other one, but he’s alive.”



Ryykard would have preferred the Advocacy agent. According to his sources, he seemed to have been involved in the Hyperion raid. Even so, he could use one brother to get to the other. “Set up a meet… somewhere secluded, away from these clowns. I don’t want them sniffing around and getting any bright ideas.”



“Will do” said Rooke as he turned around and left for the comms station.



Things were finally falling into place. Ryykard took a seat on the bridge and looked out through the wide windows. Lights and shadows danced across the room under Pyro’s dying star and for the first time, he found himself admiring the view.



