New Faces, Old Problems

By Mr. David R. Dorrycott

All characters, events, realities copyright their respective owners.

“Y'all open bay fiver fer me will-ya now honey?"

The woman in skintight black vinyl grimaced. "Docking bay five open" she answered.

"Now thankee sweetums, yer ah nice little filly a'yep"

Cutting the connection she spat on the floor, turning to the man standing behind her. "How much longer before I can blow them out of space" she asked.

"Now Darlin, let's not get carried away" the male replied, patting her leg. "The ABHA may not be refined, but they do get tha' job done." Stepping past her he headed for the docking bay, letting one furred hand trail along her costume for a moment. He could almost hear her purr as the hatch closed between them. Smiling, he headed for what should be the last meeting between him and his hired help. Sometimes his companion was in THAT mood. It simply behooved him to know when.

The older of the two armadillo's handed him a small cassette, the younger, hands near his pseudo-six guns, flicked his gaze along walls, hatches and the two of them. "'is all here boss" the older one reported, 's'been a new ship what come around s'but its nothing moren junk wagon. Won't bother you any, no guns ta' speak of. Science girlie whats don' work fer yer target. Looks lik' she's gonna bring 'em rit into yer hands too."

Accepting the cassette the furry male handed over a small leather sack of gold coins. "Good work" he answered, hefting the deceptively heavy cassette. "If I need you again I'll call The Alamo."

"Gotcha boss. We'll be ready."

Both armadillos reentered their ship with a minimum of fuss. He had to admit, fake Texas accent aside those rolly-polly characters were effective agents. He'd hate to just let his partner fry them, they'd have to be given a sporting chance. Say, half a second or so. He watched the little ship exit, and its rapid departure before heading back to the woman.

She was waiting for him, her long legs propped against the weapons consul, stiletto heels tapping the safed weapons systems. "Got it?" she asked.

Slipping the cassette into her reader, he nodded.

"So their having a little clone problem" the woman sneered. Running one hand through her butch cut hair she laughed, a frightening sound. "And this little show-off-know-it-all is saving their bacon. Oh this is rich."

"Jack and Rachelle will be arriving within the month" her partner noted. "Probably by his bag or some other trick. Still, this little Nip has been pretty open about her movements. I'd bet dollars to donuts she takes them to her ship." He grinned, licking an impressive display of teeth. "Once on that ship Darlin their helpless. We'll make our move then."

"mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.... I think I've decided on vivisection" she replied, purring as he ran his hands down her shapely legs. "Live, undruged, vivisection" she whispered.

He laid one hand on the bare shoulder before him. "Rickie Darlin" he sighed "And here I thought you had decided on a barbecue"

Rickie Goodyear smiled, a rare expression on that face. Slowly her tongue ran slowly over black painted lips. "That, my dear Mack, depends on if you come up with the 'secret sauce' in time or not." She tapped the monitor, still showing Snowaters walking towards the ACME building. "Of course, she'd make a nice appetizer before the main course. And once we've taken care of those three, ACME will be ours for the taking."

Mack Hilarious laughed, a deep rumbling noise. "The rest of that wimp clan won't know what hit 'em" he answered. Leaning over, he pulled the sitting woman to him. "An we'll be unstoppable after their gone." He kissed Rickie, feeling her melt against him. For the moment she was in the right mood. That he knew, would only last an hour or so. Still, for now...

Life was good.