Dariux went through his pre-flight check, making sure all of his systems were in the green. The last thing he wanted to do on his first run for the Syndicate was have a malfunction of some sort. He'd thrown all his chips into this pot and needed to put his best foot forward. The future of his mother and of himself rested upon him doing a good job.

He checked the time on his datasleeve and let out a long breath. They'd be there any minute. The Helios was green across the board and ready to go. He just needed his cargo and he'd be on his way.

A buzzer sounded and Dariux checked the vidscreens. Aryk was standing outside the hangar door. Dariux hit a button unlocking the door to his private hangar, letting the man in. He got up and bounded out of the cockpit of his ship, moving swiftly to the hatch in the port side, and down the stairs to meet him.

"Dariux," the man said smoothly. "Good to see you again."

"You too."

"Are you ready?"

Dariux nodded. "Anxious to get going."

"Excellent," Aryk said. "We appreciate that kind of enthusiasm."

Dariux punched a button on the remote he was holding that opened the large hangar door, and then hit another button that lowered the ramp to the Helios' cargo bay. A large hover-transport rumbled to the hangar door and stopped, hissing and popping as the driver shut the engines down.

"Now, if you'd be so kind as to just head back into the cockpit and wait for us to finish loading your vessel," Aryk said.

Dariux cocked his head. "I like to know what it is I'm transporting," he said. "I need to prepare for any emergencies."

"Nothing we're loading is explosive or dangerous in any way whatsoever," he said. "But, it is the property of my employers and they prefer for their cargo to remain unseen."

"Yeah, but – "

"The point is not negotiable, Dariux," Aryk said, his voice firm. "Once we are loaded, you are forbidden from entering your ship's cargo bay. The materials being transported are to remain confidential. Failure to comply could have very – unfortunate – consequences. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Dariux stared at the man for a long moment, trying to decide whether to keep arguing or not. He didn't like not knowing what he was carrying. And not knowing what the cargo was didn't allow him time to properly prepare for any contingencies that might arise.

But, he also knew that failure to comply with the Syndicate's demands would only provoke them and could have really bad consequences for him. He was in it up to his hips and had no choice but to keep going.

"Need I remind you," Aryk said, "the sizeable fee you are being paid for this job is, in part, to ensure your silence in all matters? And your cooperation with Syndicate matters, as well."

Dariux shook his head. "No, I get it."

A wide, slick smile spread across Aryk's face. "Excellent," he said. "That's what I like about you, Dariux. You're smart. Smart and easy to work with. Now, go ahead and just jump on into the cockpit of your ship and we'll get this all loaded up and ready. You don't need to worry about a thing."

Without another word, Dariux cast a long look at the hover-transport, and then turned, walking back to his ship. He climbed the stairs and stepped through the hatch, hitting the button to close it behind him.

Once seated in the pilot's chair in the cockpit, he cast a look around. Aryk was out of sight, no doubt supervising the loading. He hit a button that brought a vidscreen to life in front of him. From a small, hidden camera he'd mounted in the cargo bay, Dariux watched them loading some long, tall crates into the back. There were eight in all, by the time they were done loading, all stacked side-by-side in the middle of the hold.

A loud rapping sounded on the port side hatch, sending a jolt of adrenaline rushing through him. Dariux fumbled but switched off the hidden camera. The vidscreen went dark as he got to his feet and moved to through the passageway to the hatch. Hitting the button, the door slid open with a whoosh.

"We are done loading, Dariux," Aryk said.

"Great," he replied. "And where am I taking the cargo?"

Aryk smiled and held up a datapad. "May I see your datapad please?"

Dariux pushed back his sleeve and raised his arm. Aryk typed a few things into his own pad and nodded as Dariux's datasleeve chimed with the incoming information.

"The coordinates are being uploaded to your datasleeve now," he said. "Once you have completed your run, you will scrub these coordinates from your datasleeve and your ship's nav systems. The location you are taking this cargo to must never be known. By anybody. Is that understood."

Dariux nodded. "Got it. Burn it all."

"Excellent," he beamed. "I see a long and fruitful partnership between us, Dariux. I feel very good about this."

Dariux wondered if he told his last contractor that – the one he'd had "issues" with. But, he bit back the snarky reply that hovered on the tip of his tongue, opting for something more diplomatic.

"I look forward to it," Dariux said.

Aryk clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, you've got a bit of a journey ahead of you, so I won't keep you any longer," he said. "All of the job's parameters are outlined in the data pack I beamed to you, should you have any questions. I would ask that, to prevent any situations from arising by using unsecured channels, you do not contact me. If I need to get in touch with you, I will, via one of our encrypted devices. Though, I hope the need does not arise."

"Radio silence," Dariux said. "Understood."

Aryk nodded and clapped him on the shoulder again. "Excellent," he said. "Have a safe, swift journey. I look forward to your return."

~ooo000ooo~

Dariux pulled up the coordinates Aryk had given him and checked it against the holomap again, sure he was missing something.

"Computer," he said.

The ship's computer let out a soft chime to let him know it was online. "Yes, Captain," a woman's smooth, slightly accented voice replied.

"Plot the course for these coordinates."

A holographic image came up detailing the coordinates he was given. Dariux looked hard at it. There was no planet at the end of the trail. No moon. Hell, there wasn't even an asteroid belt. The coordinates just ended in – nothing.

"There must be some sort of a mistake," he mumbled. "Incomplete coordinates. There's nothing out there."

"Correction," the computer said.

"Correction?" Dariux asked. "What do you mean correction?"

"I am correcting your statement that there is nothing out there," the computer said smoothly. "In fact, there is something out there."

Dariux looked at the computer for a moment, waiting for it to continue. When it didn't, he let out a long breath.

"Well? What's out there?"

"The remains of the USF Galaxy Class Battlecruiser Andromeda," the computer said. "Galaxy Class ships are the largest capital ships in the USF fleet, housing up to fifty thousand people at any one time. It also has room for spacecraft – "

Dariux cocked his head. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he snapped. "The Syndicate is having me take his cargo to a burned out Battlecruiser?"

"The Andromeda sustained heavy damage during the last Volusian War, twenty-three years ago. Thirty-three thousand, eight hundred and twelve lives were lost during the fighting," the computer said. "The USF scuttled the ship and it has remained adrift ever since."

"So, why are we taking cargo to a dead ship?"

"The answer to that question is unknown at this time," the computer replied.

"Thank you, computer."

"You are welcome, Captain," the computer said and then chimed softly as it shut down again.

A scuttled ship. It made no sense to him. Unless the Syndicate had somehow repaired the ship enough to sustain life and had been using it as one of the venues for their pit fights. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made to him.

To stay ahead of the USF, the pits had to stay on the move. They couldn't be tied to any one place for any length of time. That much Dariux knew. He'd heard of the Syndicate running fighting pits on old, abandoned outposts and colonies, and on certain planets known to be more hostile to USF authority. But, he'd never heard of them running a fighting pit on a scuttled ship.

It made sense though. It was actually quite brilliant. It was the last place the USF would look for an illegal fighting pit. He had to give them kudos for being a bit innovative in their approach to doing something so illegal.

As he thought about it some more, it made him realize that if he were indeed headed for one of the Syndicate's fighting pits, he was very likely transporting some of their fighters.

"Shit," he muttered to himself. "Shit, shit, shit."

Guns, he'd run before. Drugs too. But trafficking in sentient beings was not something he'd ever done before. Something he would never have thought to do. Never something he would have considered. Getting caught running what he was running was an automatic death sentence. No trial. No jury. No chance to plead for leniency, if not outright clemency. Getting caught trafficking life forms would earn you a bullet to the head right then and there.

Dariux flipped on the cargo bay camera and looked at the eight boxes lined up in the hold. They looked so innocuous. They could be anything. Knowing he might be carrying life forms though, struck a nerve with him. It made him equal parts fearful and angry.

"This is the job," Dariux muttered to himself. "You knew you were getting into bed with shady people."

Shady yes. He knew that. But trafficking in life forms? That was something else entirely and something he hadn't prepared for. If a USF ship stopped him, what in the hell was he going to do?

"Computer," he snapped.

"Yes, Captain," it replied.

"Scan the eight boxes in the cargo hold," he said. "Tell me what you read."

"Scan unable to be completed," it said.

"What do you mean unable to be completed?"

"There is a static field around the cargo," the computer said. "It's faint, but it's there. And it obscures sensors from penetrating it, making identification of the cargo inside the containers impossible."

"If another ship were to scan us – say, a USF vessel," Dariux said. "Would they be able to pick up the static field around the cargo?"

"Assuredly, Captain," the computer said.

Shit. He did his best to avoid USF vessels altogether, but sometimes, crossing their path was inevitable. He usually just played it cool and was able to fly on by. But, if he encountered one of their ships – and they happened to scan him – they would pick up the static field and know he was hauling something he didn't want them to see.

Might as well just flash a huge, brightly lit sign, saying "I'm doing something illegal!" at that point.

He couldn't tamper with the fields, or Aryk and the Syndicate would know he tampered with their cargo. Which would earn him a bullet to the head as quick as if the USF found him trafficking life forms. Which meant, he had to stay off the USF radar entirely.

"Computer," he said.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Scan ahead as far as you can," he said. "If there are any USF ships out there, plot a course around them. Keep scanning and re-plotting as necessary. We cannot run into one of their ships."

"Scanning, Captain," the computer said. "However, I would be remiss to not tell you that I cannot account for USF vessels that may drop out of hyperspace and put themselves in our path."

"Just – do the best you can."

"Confirmed, Captain."

Part of Dariux wished he'd had a hyperdrive installed on the Helios. He'd be able to make this run in a fraction of the time it was going to take him. But, he also knew that by purchasing a hyperdrive, he'd have to register it – and his vessel – with USF Customs Department. And there was no way in hell he was going to do that.

It was slower going than ships with hyperdrives, but having the advantage of running dark like he was, meant that the USF couldn't track or account for him. Having a hyperdrive didn't mean you could outrun a capital ship. And you certainly couldn't outrun their communications systems once you tripped their alarms.

It was a trade off – speed for anonymity – but given how many smuggler's ships with hyperdrives he'd seen the USF blow into space dust, he thought he was doing okay.

He looked at the vidscreen again and let out a long breath. His eyes roamed those eight boxes. He was curious. But, he knew that letting his curiosity get the best of him, might be the end of him. The Syndicate were not people you messed around with. Not if you wanted to keep breathing, anyway.