The smooth tones sang loud in his ears, and Maximillian Gun'jhur let his head sway with the music. The auditorium was enormous, one of the largest rooms under one roof that Max had ever seen but the acoustics were wonderful and the many thousands in the crowd seemed to be very happy.

This song was a slower one, a piece that Max had heard his band play many times in the past. Every square inch of the broad dance floor was seemingly covered with dancing couples and, from what he could see, most of them were looking deep into each other's eyes, holding each other closely and enjoying the opportunity to move a bit slower than they had been through the previous set.

Just a few minutes ago, Toby had launched into an entire series of ancient Rock & Roll songs, most dating back to more than a century earlier, and the crowd was eating it up. Max deeply enjoyed all of the older melodies, the music so sweet and smooth, but the velvet voice of the man singing lead seemed to be holding everyone in a trance. Max wasn't surprised, though. No, not in the least. Tobias Thibodeau often worked this kind of magic on a crowd. Max had seen it with his own eyes many times...and it never ceased to amaze him.

Toby was currently mixing it up with songs about everything from hound dogs to jailhouses, Teddy Bears to some kind of crazy blue shoes. Where does he get this stuff, Max thought and laughed. Blue shoes? Only this man could hold sway over thousands of people with a song about blue shoes.

Max glanced one more time over the many dancing couples and smiled. Toby was in his element here. The four other members of the band were as well. It never failed to dawn on Max that these musicians just played so much better when in the tall man's company. He'd heard them all play individually or with other groups but they never sounded quite as good as they did when Toby was singing on stage.

The song wound down and the crowd sensed it. Almost as one massive being, they stopped dancing, faced the stage and broke into a raucous round of applause. Toby, modest as ever, took two bows, motioned to his band mates as if they deserved all the credit and then slowly made his way off stage. That last set had been Toby's third attempt to end the show for the night and, if Max knew his star attraction at all, three encores were as far as Toby would go.

They had been playing this gig as Tall-T And The Wayfarers, a smaller band known in this region of Grid-Space for their wonderful covers of the older rock classics. By the sound of the applause still filling the enormous room even now, several minutes after the band had left the stage, Max knew his musicians had won more than their fair share of additional fans tonight.

Max watched as a young couple approached the bar and took two seats not far from his position. The girl was very pretty, about five feet tall, and her boyfriend looked to be an athletic type. They were both smiling and still clapping with the others as Max leaned over and said, "Those guys were really something, eh?"

"Amazing," the young man said and his pretty date agreed. "They sounded just like this guy I was listening to over the Grid a few months ago who blew me away," the youngster continued. "They called the guy The Player and I've been trying to find everything he's recorded ever since."

"Ever find any?" Max asked, now very interested.

"Oh, yeah, I've found dozens," the kid said and smiled.

"We play them non-stop," the girl said, her voice sounding distant, like she was still in some far off dream-place. "Those guys up there tonight sounded just like them. I mean, like they were the same band. You know what I mean?"

Max smiled and nodded several times very slowly. "Yes, I do," he said and looked back over the crowd. "I most certainly do."

# # #

"Max!" a muffled voice called from the other side of his cabin's door and he rustled in the small bed. "Max, come on, it's time to go!"

Max rolled over on to his back and tried to focus his eyes on the small clock near the bed. "Christ," he swore at the time and kicked his feet over the edge. "Why so early?"

The small door opened, letting in a very bright light from the corridor and Tobias Thibodeau stuck his head inside. "Because it's time to go."

"Alright, Tobias, alright," Max said and stood up on shaky legs. "Give me a second."

"Just one and make it fast," the tall musician said and let the door close behind him. Max gathered up his few belongings, dressed quickly and washed his face in the sink of the small bathroom that came with his room. Moments later he stepped into the corridor, his one small travel bag strapped across his back, and squinted at the bright light shining in through the massive view windows.

No matter how many times he came back to the Moon, he would never get used to seeing the landscape looking so much like Earth's. Although an atmosphere had been installed around the Moon by Becker Industrial Associates more than twenty-five years ago, Max would never stop thinking of the small white satellite image he had seen in his textbooks while growing up in school. It just didn't seem right to have grass and trees and open air on the small spheroid that circled the Earth. But Becker was paying for this gig and he wasn't going to pass up such a grand opportunity for his band to entertain the masses during the organization's 50^th Anniversary Extravaganza.

Taking a deep breath of some of the cleanest air he'd tasted in quite some time, Max turned and found the other members in his party standing together underneath a tree in the small square outside the Becker HQ Building about thirty meters away.

"It's about time you woke up," Dimitri Godansky said and laughed at the disheveled appearance of the band's manager as Max approached. "We're almost late for our appointment on Earth with Fantasticon Productions."

"Give me a break," Max said to the band's Lead Guitarist. "That meet isn't for at least another six hours."

"Yeah, well, breakfast wouldn't have hurt too badly, either," Martino Velez said, his fingers twirling a set of drumsticks around in an elaborate pattern effortlessly.

"You're always hungry, Tino," Rider Boone said as he messed with the volume controls on his bass guitar and gently plucked at the strings. With its self-contained power pack, the instrument required no outside energy source. In fact, none of the instruments that this band was using required outside power. The miracle of micro-nucleonics at work.

"I could have used some food this morning, too," Swayne Morrison said. Max knew the thin keyboardist tried never to miss a breakfast.

"Anyway, we're not done here yet," Toby said and motioned toward a white-haired older gentleman who had just exited the main doors to Becker's elaborate home base. Max turned and immediately recognized Hans Becker, the CEO of the organization himself, and the man's assistant as the two men approached the band.

Toby quickly extended his hand toward the grinning man and bade him good morning. "Thank you so much, Mr. Thibodeau, for your wonderful performance last night," Becker said and nodded in acknowledgement to the other members of the band. "Mr. Gun'jhur, my compliments to your people here. They put on quite a show, quite a show indeed."

"They'll be talking about this for the next five years in the Upper-Levels," the young assistant said nervously but quieted at a glare from Becker.

"And Mr. Cho," Becker said to the mid-sized Asian man who hadn't yet uttered a word since Max joined the group. "Brilliant effects during the entire performance, young man. I was deeply impressed with your fine touch and nuances around the pyrotechnic displays."

"Thank you, sir," Ti Cho said and nodded once from his position sitting atop the stone embankment surrounding the tree.

"Gentlemen, it is to my great sorrow that I have to see you leave so soon," Becker said. "I wish you could stay and enjoy the day in browsing through our on-site museum and historical tour."

"Thank you very kindly, Mr. Becker, sir," Max said and glanced down at his watch. "We would love to take you up on your hospitality, but we have an urgent meeting on Earth in just a bit and we have to be moving on."

"Understood, fine sirs, understood," Becker said and clapped his hands together. "With the amount of sheer talent I was witness to last night, it isn't any wonder to me that your time is precious and your schedules full. Shall I make payment now?"

"Yes, sir, that would be grand," Max said and began to look through his bag for his Mini-Financial Manager. The gadget was no larger than his palm and acted as the band's own private bank. It collected fees, transferred funds, made payments, deposited various monies into dozens of InterGridactic Accounts and even allowed him to perform many different types of investment transactions on several dozen other planets. A very tidy and convenient bit of mechanics but not worth a damn thing if Max couldn't find it.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Becker," Max stumbled a bit. "I seem to have left my MFM in the shuttle, sir. I'll only be a minute, please excuse me."

"Nonsense," Becker said and began to walk toward the mini starport his organization had built on the Moon many years ago. "I have just been told that a representative of my fiercest competitor, Calabrio Design & Manufacturing, is due to land here at any moment in order to discuss urgent business, whatever his notion of that might be, so I'll walk with you in order to meet the scoundrel at my very own gates."

"That would be our pleasure, sir," Toby said and began to make strong headway with his long strides.

As The Player himself and the head of Becker Industrial Associates made small talk, Max excused himself quietly from the conversation and began to walk ahead, eager to find the small machine. With so much of vital importance stored within his MFM's memory chips, he would feel completely and utterly vulnerable until the very moment that he was, once again, holding the thing in his hands.

Their shuttle was still sitting on the small pad, closest to the starport's main gate, and Max could see another larger shuttle, looking somewhat like a medium-sized troop transport, heading for the pad directly adjacent to it. He shielded his eyes momentarily from the blast of downdraft as the sleek vessel met the tarmac on a gentle cushion of air and entered the pass code on their rented Valkyrie—326.

He entered the main corridor of their small shuttle and headed immediately for the cockpit, where he had been flying the thing a day earlier. His piloting skills had saved the band some serious money in piloting fees over the past few years. Of course, he left the long-hauls to commercial or private transport companies but, short hops like the one from Jupiter's LookOut Station to the Moon and Earth, he piloted with ease.

Max sighed with relief as he saw the tiny machine lying on the dashboard in the cockpit. How on Earth did I ever leave the thing out of my sight? he wondered and hurriedly made his way forward to grab up the tiny machine. Max barely heard the screams and brief spat of charger fire that came from the next landing pad over as he maneuvered through the rented shuttle's interior.

# # #

"Here he is now," Hans Becker said as the extraction doors to the larger shuttle that had just landed hissed open not twenty meters away. "Please excuse me for a moment, Toby, as I greet Justin Calabrio and his party."

"Absolutely, Mr. Becker," Toby said and turned to look into the wide-open doors of the Valkyrie, wondering where Max had gotten himself off to. Glancing quickly back over his shoulder, he found it a mystery why anyone would need to bring a vessel that large to the Moon for something as simple as a business meeting. The filthy rich, he smirked and peered once again into the dark interior of the Valkyrie, I'll never understand them...

He heard the sounds of many boots hitting the tarmac, sounds that were quite unfamiliar coming from a supposed privately chartered vessel, and turned back toward the newly arrived shuttle with concern. Hans Becker's eyes were wide open in disbelief as a small cadre of very heavily armed men in military style fatigues exited the shuttle and pointed their weapons in his direction.

"What in the hell is going on here, Toby?" Dimitri asked as at least twenty pseudo-military men fanned out to point weapons at everyone in the general vicinity.

"I don't have any idea, Dimitri," Toby said. "But just stay alert here and no sudden moves."

"As you say, boss," Rider Boone said and let his guitar drop lightly to the ground. Three men in dark clothing, helmets with visors down and some big black guns, surrounded the small party of musicians and motioned for them to head back toward the Becker HQ Building.

"I don't know about you, Max," Toby said in a slightly raised voice. "But I think I'm going to be sick. Yep, that's definitely the word, Max, sick, sick sick..."

Maximillian Gun'jhur heard the words of his prime talent and nodded to himself in understanding from his hidden position within the smaller Valkyrie. Some type of Corporate Coup was taking place just outside of the thin composite walls of his shuttlecraft and, by the looks of the big bulky weapons being held by their new visitors, this was not going to be a pleasant day. Toby's message had been clear, however, one of them was going to be getting "sick" soon and it would have to be his job to make the situation well again.

# # #

"Just what in the name of God is going on here, Justin," Hans Becker said as the Junior Vice President of his strongest competitor walked down the ramp of the large Iroquois Class shuttlecraft. "How dare you bring men with guns here, to my base of operations. I demand an explanation!"

"Shut up old man," Justin Calabrio spat and motioned for the tallest man among the soldiers to do the quieting. The butt of the big man's charger rammed sharply into Becker's lower abdomen and the older man clutched his ribs and hit the tarmac hard.

"Hey!" Tom Bellins, Hans Becker's personal assistant, exclaimed and stepped forward to stop the man's next assault with the rifle's butt. With a speed possessed of only the better-trained mercenaries, the soldier stepped back, righted his charger and fired point blank into the young man's face. What was left of Bellins' head slapped wetly to the tarmac while the remainder of his corpse twitched uncontrollably on the way down.

Calabrio's eyes grew wide and he fixed his glare on the tall man behind the blackened helmet visor. His fury was evident but there was nothing he could do now. The first step toward making this hostile takeover of Becker Industrial Associates official had just been taken. Now he would have to come up with a valid reason that would stand against the sternest of inquiries by the Universal Corporate Council as to why a man had been killed during the initial meeting between the two parties.

"Now you know just how serious I am, Hans," Calabrio said. As a Vice President of Calabrio Design and Manufacturing, the first corporation to go back to Mars after the suicide bombing of the first U.E.N. colony on the red planet took place in 2061, he was extremely proud to be the man who would lead his father's organization to its first major expansion in more than a generation. Becker, with their luxury installation on the Moon and the breathable atmosphere that they had succeeded in pumping around it in 2089, had always been the one major obstacle to Calabrio's growth throughout the U.E.N. Now, today, that would end. Right here, with this boldest of moves, Justin Calabrio would put an end to Becker's reign over the realm of InterGridactic industrial manufacturing for once and for all. "Today marks a new day for our two organizations, Hans. My father wishes he could be here but he has more important things to tend to. Like informing our mutual colleagues, suppliers, investors and customers of our upcoming merger."

"That will never happen, you punk," Becker said from his place on the ground and spit at Calabrio's feet.

Justin stopped breathing momentarily as anger built up red and hot within him but he worked to control himself. He needed some semblance of self-control now more than ever. If this meeting were to result in the death of Hans Becker, he and his father would never obtain the backing they would need from both the Universal Corporate Council and the local sector of the U.E.N. Mergers Committee in order to make this takeover work.

He willed himself to be still and saw the large form of mercenary leader, Mick Sawyer, step forward once again with the butt of his charger.

"No," Calabrio growled and Sawyer stopped his right arm's forward momentum. "I will handle this for now with diplomacy and tact. They have seen that we have no qualms about hurting them physically by the foolish actions of that now headless man on the ground," Calabrio said, indicating the body of Tom Bellins lying not too far away. "Now we will do this thing quickly and peacefully. Or, things will turn nasty. Do you hear me, Hans? You wouldn't want your stubborn ways to result in more deaths, now would you?"

The older man lifted himself somewhat shakily to his feet and stood to face Calabrio. "Your father most likely knows nothing about this, Justin," Becker said. "He is a fine and decent man, a man who it has been my pleasure to do business with over these past few decades. He is not a man who would hire thugs with guns and send his son here to kill and intimidate. No, Justin, these are your actions. And now, those actions carry blood with them. Blood that is on your hands, you pathetic waste."

Justin Calabrio lost his grip momentarily and swung a vicious open right hand against Hans Becker's face. The old man staggered but didn't go down, a small trickle of blood flowed steadily from his busted lip. "We will do this now, old man!"

"Or what? You will have these men kill more of my employees?" Becker shouted.

"Yes, and that will be blood on your hands," Calabrio said. "As much blood as it takes!"

# # #

"We are just a band of musicians," Toby said for the fourth time in as many minutes. "Mr. Becker was on his way to meet with your...party...and decided to walk with us to our rented shuttle. We had played at the 50^th Anniversary Party last night, that's all."

"You can keep talking," the man behind the visor said. "I don't care who you are or where you were going, but no one leaves here until this business is done."

"How long will that be?" Dimitri Godansky asked and the merc looked up sharply at his distinctly Soviet accent.

"Are you one of them lousy Russians?" the soldier asked, half-raising his weapon and taking a step forward.

"He is one of my band members," Toby said and stepped in between the advancing soldier and his lead guitar player. "That is all. We are musicians, we will cause no harm by leaving here. We are not concerned with this business, do you understand?"

The man tried to look around the tall form of Tobias Thibodeau one more time to where Dimitri stood but settled back to look up into Toby's eyes. "I'll say it again, I don't care who you are, you guys aren't going anywhere."

"How about his medicine?" Rider Boone asked, indicating their tall lead singer.

"I don't care..." the mercenary began.

"The man needs his medicine and it's on that shuttle of ours," Boone interrupted the soldier and pointed out the window of the small office they were in to where the shuttle still sat parked on the tarmac in the mini-starport, not too very far away.

"What's his condition?"

"Heart problems," Boone began but Toby twirled around to fix him with an angry glare.

"Shut up, Boone!" Thibodeau exclaimed. "Don't be bringing that up now!"

"If you don't get that medicine you could die, Toby, I'm just looking out for you!"

"Don't do me any favors," Toby growled but Swayne Morrison stepped forward.

"Look, our leader here needs his meds," Morrison said to the merc. "But he's too proud to ask you for them so I'm telling you myself, he will die if he doesn't get his meds and get them quick."

"I said shut up about that, Swayne!" Toby yelled.

"So, why don't you go tell your head goon out there about this situation and maybe we can stop something from getting ugly in here."

"Let me check on this," the mercenary stammered and opened the door a crack. He called for another man in fatigues and helmet with visor in place and whispered to him for a few seconds before the door to the small office they had been thrown into closed again.

"I don't want any special attention," Toby said and seemed to stagger for a minute. "I don't want...want...anything..."

"What's the matter, Toby?" Rider asked as Thibodeau crashed against a nearby wall and slid to the ground.

The room exploded into action then as the band members rushed to their fallen leader and the man with the gun hopped from one foot to the other, trying to figure out what in the hell to do. Boone and Morrison were both yelling at him to do something and Ti Cho had ripped open Toby's shirt to start checking his heart beat.

"It's erratic!" Cho screamed, his high voice echoing off the walls in the enclosed space. "He's going to die!"

"Jesus, bring him to the Infirmary in this building!" the soldier shouted.

"His meds are in the shuttle!" Godansky yelled.

"No! No shuttle! Bring him to the Infirmary," the soldier yelled. "In this building, not outside!"

"Christ, he's dying!" Boone said and bent to lift the motionless Toby to his feet.

The mercenary opened the door to the office and motioned for another of his men to come over and help the struggling band of musicians as they filed out of the door and into the corridor. "Take them to the Infirmary, this man is dying!"

"Where in the hell is that?" the new mercenary asked.

"Shit if I know, Porter," the other soldier said. "Just find the damn place and get him to it. If we let one of them die over something as stupid as this, Calabrio is going to take another frigging fit."

"Crap, let's go," Porter yelled and, at gunpoint, the band members rambled down the corridor, trying to support the large lanky frame of Tobias Thibodeau between them. The original guard slumped up against a wall and tried to calm his breathing and racing heart. What a frigging circus this had turned out to be, he thought to himself and looked down both ends of the long hallway to make sure that no one else had seen or heard the ordeal that had just taken place.

# # #

"Listen, Justin...I'm not going to just hand over my corporation to you and your father...do you understand?" Becker said through bleeding lips, his right eye bruised shut from the beating he had already suffered.

"Don't make this so hard on yourself, Hans," Calabrio urged, the panic in his voice rising as he realized that the situation was spiraling totally out of control. The old man was not cooperating, one man was already dead and this was not going at all as he had planned. Becker had been right about one thing, though, his father didn't know anything about this operation. Justin was acting on his own. Acting toward more than tripling the size of Calabrio Design & Manufacturing in one swift and decisive move.

A move that would place him on the top rung of his father's corporate ladder. A position now occupied by Justin's older brother, Miguel. This has to work, the young Calabrio thought, and it has to work soon. This is taking much too long...

Sawyer reared back and struck Hans Becker once again across the mouth. More blood splattered against the walls of the CEO's plush office and on to the Transfer Of Ownership documents strewn atop his ornate desk. All of this could have been done electronically, using old man Becker's thumbprint on an extraction screen as a seal of approval on the deal, but deep down Justin knew...his father would not accept anything short of Becker's true signature on the actual paperwork once the details of the merger were presented to him back on Corpura.

The chair that Becker was tied to fell to the floor as Sawyer's blow struck home and the old man let out a long groan of pain. Sawyer lifted him back into a sitting position with ease and pulled his right fist back yet again...

# # #

The doors to the Infirmary opened and the lone doctor whirled around in surprise. "What is going on here?" he demanded but the musicians just brushed past him and laid the still unmoving body of Tobias Thibodeau on the single examining table in the center of the white room.

"Treat this man, doctor, he's dying" the soldier with the gun said as he leaned over the backs of one of the musicians, trying for a better look at the dying man on the table.

Max Gun'jhur reached a hand into the white medical smock he was wearing and extracted a syringe that the real head doctor of Becker Industrial Associates, a man now hiding in the small office behind the examination room, had told him would knock out a three-hundred pound man. He found a good spot on the man's exposed neck, underneath the helmet but just above the man's shirt, and plunged the needle in deeply. The man jerked around and grabbed for Max but Rider Boone had been waiting and he crashed into the soldier, forcing him to the ground. The man tried to fight back at first but quickly stopped moving once the drug took effect.

All of the men stopped moving for a moment to collect their breaths. "Nice to see you, Max," Toby said and winked. "Any trouble getting here?"

"It's a long story, Tobias, I'll tell you some other time" Max said, walked over to the small door separating the office from the Infirmary proper and opened it up. "Thanks, Doc," he said and a small man with gray hair popped his head into the opening.

"That little mixture should work to keep that man unconscious for about five or six hours," the doctor said and watched as Toby climbed off the white table in the middle of the room. "What are your plans?"

"Can't really tell you right now, Doc," Toby said and fixed Ti Cho with a crooked smile. "You just had to rip open the shirt, didn't you?"

"It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, boss," Cho said and leaned down to pick up the mercenary's fallen weapon.

Rider Boone and Dimitri Godansky lifted the merc up on to the table and began removing the man's uniform and helmet. The young face that was exposed couldn't have been any older than eighteen or nineteen. Certainly not yet over twenty, Max thought in disapproval and plucked the blaster from the man's hip holster to hand it over to Swayne Morrison.

"So, now what?" Max asked and looked at Toby for guidance. The other members of the band followed suit and Max smiled. Even in times of turmoil, he's ever our leader...

"Well, one thing's for sure, those guns won't do us any good," Toby said. "We're musicians and engineers, not soldiers."

"It feels good to have one, though," Rider said and Max found himself having to agree.

"We need to figure out how to turn the tables on this situation," Toby said.

"If only we'd have been just a few minutes earlier in leaving this place," Martino Velez said, his eyes glaring at Max.

"Don't blame Max on this one," Toby said and leaned against the table. "Whatever this is, we're caught up in it and that's not going to change. We somehow got caught in a trap here and we have to find our way out."

"What can we do?" Dimitri asked and silence ruled the small infirmary for several minutes.

"What is this all about?" Toby asked then and started pacing about the room. "I mean, what is this really all about?"

"Let's see, it's a very hostile takeover for one," Max offered.

"One of the most hostile I've ever seen," Rider joked but nobody laughed.

"And what's the underlying force behind such a move on the part of Calabrio?" Toby asked and let the question linger for several moments.

Max felt the weight of his MFM then in the side pocket of his cargo-style pants and realized what this was really all about. He pulled out the small machine and turned it on. "Money," he said.

All eyes turned to him and the Mini-Financial Manager he was holding in his right hand. "Bingo," Toby said.

# # #

"This isn't working, Mr. Calabrio," Mick Sawyer said in a very low tone to Justin about twelve feet away from where Becker sat bleeding and semi-conscious. "This man is not about to do what you want him to do. Not voluntarily or under threat of physical violence to his person."

"Just make him do it, do you understand?" Calabrio growled. "And do it fast!"

Sawyer stiffened at the younger man's demeaning tone and steeled himself from lashing out at the man who was paying him for this job. "Listen, Calabrio," Sawyer said through gritted teeth. "I don't have any jurisdiction on this little rock, neither do you. Although, if we get this old son of a bitch to sign off on the paperwork then, technically, nothing we have done here will have been illegal...if we don't do it soon and the local police show up before the Articles of your little merger have been accepted...they will have the right to arrest all of us and charge us with murder."

"Screw that, Sawyer," Calabrio said and glanced across the room at the groaning form of Becker, still tied to his chair. "I hired your people because I was told you were the best in the business. At least, locally. Now show me some of that talent and get this job done!"

Sawyer took a deep breath and glanced at the bleeding old man too. Sure, he was a soldier, but beating up defenseless old men in their places of business was not what he considered an honorable job. "In order to finish this thing we're going to need to use a little bit of external pressure."

"Haven't you been exerting just a little bit of external pressure on him already?" Calabrio shot back.

"I don't mean on the old man, Calabrio," Sawyer said. "I mean on someone close to him. Someone maybe like his secretary, a trusted female employee."

"Why female?" Calabrio asked, the concern very evident on his face.

"Because it will serve to make him bend more quickly to our will," Sawyer said from behind his visor. "Believe me, we shouldn't have to do more than threaten to hurt the girl, whoever it is we pick. But it has to be someone he works with on a daily basis, someone he will feel somewhat attached to."

Calabrio took the several seconds of silence to think this through and try to convince himself of the validity of this new tactic. Sawyer saw the mixture of emotions play across the younger man's features and noticed the time slowly ticking away... making this situation more hopeless with each passing second.

"Alright!" Calabrio shouted. "Alright! Find your woman and find her quick. This needs to be taken care of quickly!"

# # #

Ti Cho worked his way through the subterranean access tunnel that led from Becker's HQ Building directly to the mini-starport located next door. Rider Boone had hacked into the building's corporate records and brought up a set of schematics on the Infirmary's lone computer terminal.

They had learned that, not only had this building been built with the underground access way in order to conceal the comings and goings of the major corporate players who passed through this place on a daily basis, but that there were separate tunnels leading to each of the individual landing pads as well.

His effects equipment for the show last night were stowed safely aboard the shuttle, in one of the lower cargo compartments built into the Valkyrie's fuselage. The small amount of pyrotechnics that he hadn't used during the 50^th Anniversary Extravaganza the night before should be just enough to cause the diversion that was the key to Toby's plan.

He checked his printout of the underground labyrinth of tunnels and chose the one that should lead directly to the small landing pad on which sat their rented shuttle. After several minutes of navigating the long and narrow side-tunnel, he came to the end and found metal rungs sticking out of the concrete. Ti looked up and saw that there weren't any more than maybe twenty-five or thirty rungs. He climbed the metal ladder up the short distance to the landing pad itself and slowly slipped back the latch to the access door that led to the surface.

The heavily used hatch lifted open easily, without a hint of a squeak on well lubricated hinges, and Ti took a nervous glance around. He grinned at the total absence of guards around the landing pads. He could see one or two men with guns at the small entrance to the starport itself, but no one was currently located in or around the many vessels situated on several of the pads within the complex. It was bright out there, though, as it always was on this side of the Moon facing the Earth, bright enough for him to be seen unless he was very careful. The Becker HQ Building was not very far away and there could be many sets of eyes peering through windows in an effort to find someone like himself skulking around the starport. Ti knew that he had to do this and do it fast. If he thought about it anymore, he would only freak himself out. Taking in a deep breath, Ti brought up his resolve and swung the hatch open.

# # #

"Ok, I'm into Calabrio's system," Rider Boone said from his seat in front of the Infirmary's small computer. "I have access to everything but I need to make this quick. No doubt the Calabrio's computer-tech staff has safeguards and alarm systems in place to shut down any attempts like this to pirate their electronic records."

"Let me in there," Swayne Morrison said and took Rider's place in front of the computer. "Get me into their financial area, Rider, I'll only need a few minutes."

"Try to make that less than a minute and we'll consider ourselves lucky," Rider said as his fingers flew fast over the keyboard from Swayne's right side. "Ok, you're in but make it quick, I could see the first phase of a firewall system taking action as I was bypassing their coding structure."

"No problem, guys," Morrison said with a grin as his fingers replaced those of Boone's. The musicians looked on in wonder as their keyboardist played havoc with Calabrio's financial records. "Let me show you what a former accountant with the Universal Corporate Council can do to royally screw any organization that used to cause them grief."

"Isn't this a little bit illegal?" Max asked, his eyes transfixed in awe at the sheer speculation of what all the numbers flashing across the tiny screen might mean.

"Not in the least bit...well, ok, maybe a little," Morrison began. "But look at it this way, these guys are performing a hostile takeover of the worst sort right now. Their actions only become legal once Becker signs off on their Merger documents. If that doesn't happen before the local law enforcement catches wind of what is happening here and decide to interfere, then the Calabrio people will be guilty of killing that young assistant of Becker's and of assault on Becker himself."

"Strange how Corporate Law works out there in the Grids," Toby said and shook his head in disgust. "If Becker signs, then that young man's murder becomes a small hurdle that will be easily overcome in the Merger Committee Hearings. That's why I stick with music, to get away from all the crap that takes place in the corporate world."

"And a very wise decision that is, Tobias," Max said with a grin, patting the tall man on the back. "For you and me both."

Toby smirked at that and turned his attention back to the small monitor's screen where Morrison's fingers were still flying, replaced every few seconds by Boone's as another obstacle forced into their electronic pathway by Calabrio's tech people needed to be bypassed. So many numbers were flashing across the screen, InterGridactic dollars by the billions, disappearing from one side and appearing on the other. Suddenly the numbers were replaced by the wording in corporate legalize of a very official looking document.

"Max, let's have your MFM," Morrison said and held out his hand impatiently. Gun'jhur handed the small device over and Morrison quickly patched it into the terminal he was working on. More documents flew across the monitor's small screen, including the agreement made by Becker with Tall-T And The Wayfarers the night before, just before the celebration began. Becker's thumbprint had sealed that deal and had been stored in the MFM's memory. Morrison used that thumbprint now to seal the deal on the Legal and Financial Documents that he had just drawn up. The senior Calabrio's thumbprint had also been used from a document stored in their legal records a few seconds ago. Now with the legal approvals of both Corporation's CEO's on the new documentation, the plan that Toby had come up with could enter the final stage.

"That's it, I'm done," Morrison said and quickly vacated the seat so that Boone could get back to work, hiding their electronic trails and creating blockades and decoys that hopefully could not be traced back to this medical terminal within the Becker HQ.

"Done," Boone announced and stood up to face his friends. "Thank you, Doctor, for allowing us to utilize your data center."

"If this little plan of yours works out, gentlemen, it is I who'll be thanking you, of that there is no doubt," the short older man said. Toby shook hands with the man and motioned to the still unconscious soldier on the table.

"If he wakes up early, Doc, feel free to use a blunt object to render him asleep again," Toby offered. "I'm sure he deserves it."

"Don't you worry my tall friend," the doctor laughed. "I have my ways, he will not pose a threat to anyone for the next several hours at least."

"That's good to know," Thibodeau said and addressed his colleagues. "Ok, let's find that hidden accessway to the Upper-Levels of this place and take care of business."

"Amen to that," Max said, adjusting the uncomfortable soldier's uniform he was wearing. The small communications device embedded in the helmet had been disconnected shortly after they had gotten the uniform off the motionless merc. All of them knew that another of the soldiers could be coming to the Infirmary to check on their comrade in arms at any moment. "The sooner we can clean this mess up, the better."

# # #

One of Sawyer's men dragged the young woman into Becker's office and forced her roughly into one of the chairs facing the old man. Sawyer cracked open a small vile of smelling salts and waved it under Becker's nose. The man stirred and opened his eyes to take in the scene around him.

Justin Calabrio and the large head of the mercenary group was standing on either side of Melanie Crawford, his personal secretary, as she sat in one of the chairs that was positioned on the other side of his desk. He had been wheeled around the desk in his chair and she now faced him, the large soldier's hands positioned on her narrow shoulders, holding her down. Becker felt the anger rise up inside him as he saw the bruise on her left cheek and the small trickle of dried blood that ran from a bloody scab on that same corner of her mouth.

"You bastards!" He growled and strained hard against his bonds.

"Now, now, Hans," Justin Calabrio said and ran his fingers along Melanie's jaw line. "Don't upset the young lady, here."

"You would do this thing, Justin?" Becker asked and fixed the young man with an angry glare.

"Sign the paperwork, Hans," Calabrio said in a low and even tone. "And we won't even have to think about that option."

"You son of a bitch..." Becker said and leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling of his office. He slowly brought his head back down to look into the terrified and crying eyes of Melanie Crawford. "Forgive me, Melanie, I never thought that they would stoop so low."

"Mr. Calabrio..." Crawford began in a shaky voice but Sawyer smacked her harshly across the face. The girl screamed and fell out of her chair to land roughly on the carpet. Sawyer leaned down and grabbed her by the arm, lifting her and throwing her into the chair once again in one quick and seamless movement.

"Be quiet!" He barked and the girl sat there sobbing.

Hans Becker watched this in astonishment and felt all the fight go out of him. He looked at Melanie, new blood dripping from her mouth, and felt tears of shame and helplessness flow down his face. "You are both monsters..." he muttered.

"Will you sign now, Hans?" Calabrio asked and rolled Becker's chair closer to the desk where the blood-spattered legal documents sat, awaiting his signature.

"Yes, yes, I'll sign anything you want me to," Becker said through gritted teeth. "Just don't hurt her anymore you animals."

Justin felt a massive release in his chest then and took in a deep breath. He felt as if he hadn't breathed in at least a year but this all looked as if it would finally come to fruition. "Release his arms and hand him the pen," he said to Sawyer who was already at work loosening the old man's bonds. "Are you sure that you have the right chemicals to erase that blood from the paperwork?"

"We've done this sort of thing before, Calabrio," Sawyer said as Becker's hands became free.

Becker leaned forward over the documents that would legally sign the ownership of his corporation over to this young little fool and glanced once more at Melanie's terrified face. "Don't worry, Mel," Becker said. "This goes no further."

Reaching forward he touched pen to paper and hesitated for a fraction of an instant. All of his years of hard work, all of his hopes and dreams for his organization... all of it coming down to this.

He sighed once and began to draw the pen down to start the "H" in his signature. His hand got no further as the large Iroquois Class shuttle that had transported Calabrio and his band of goons to the Moon blew up in the starport adjacent to the Becker HQ Building. The huge explosion shattered windows throughout the sprawling complex and everyone inside Becker's office hit the floor.

# # #

Max and the musicians had been climbing up the cold concrete stairs in the secure-access area of the Becker HQ Building when the first explosion shook the enormous structure. Everyone reached out for handrails and walls to steady themselves as the building vibrated. The sound of shattering glass was loud enough to be heard through the sound-proofed coating of the stairwell's walls and several loud thumps sounded from outside as large pieces of debris bounced off the structure's exterior.

That's one, Max thought and glanced back to see that the rest of his friends were all still behind him on the stairs. The visor of his helmet was up so that he could see within the darkened confines of this secret exit to and from the Upper-Levels of the corporate stronghold. Soon, in a matter of minutes, he would lower the thing and burst through the hidden door into Becker's office, where Toby had assumed the business at hand would be taking place.

While the group marched toward the hidden hatchway that led to this area of the building from the Infirmary, Max had held them at gunpoint, acting as if he were one of the merc's. Since he was the only one that hadn't been seen by any of the invading soldiers and could not be recognized, he had to be the one to don the uniform and play the bad-guy. So far, he had been lucky, no one had stopped to engage them in small talk. They had seen several large meeting rooms and other open spaces filled with Becker employees being guarded mostly by just a single man.

The group had agreed that the mercenary forces had to be spread pretty thin in order to be covering all of the Becker personnel within the complex. This worked very much in their favor, as all of the armed men were much too busy to be worried about where one of their colleagues was leading the small band of musicians.

They had entered the hatchway very quickly, the small door had been located quite close to the Security Entrance and, as they had passed by, more than a few angry guards could be seen sitting on the floor of the mid-sized office with their arms tied back.

We could use a few more weapons, Max thought as he realized that, aside from the half-charger he was holding, the only other weapon the group possessed was the small blaster taken off the merc back in the Infirmary. That gun now sat pressed against the back of Dimitri Godansky, fit snugly between his skin and the waistband of his tight slacks. The dull black butt of the pistol was being covered by the untucked portion of his long shirt. Dimitri had been a member of the Soviet military prior to the signing of the Grid-Division Treaty of 2100 and, although he was the best suited among them to masquerade as one of the mercenaries, his absence from the small group of musicians could arouse some suspicion. So, Max had been given "Guard" duty and the band of men had tried their best to traverse the first floor corridors without raising any attention.

Now, they found themselves just on the other side of the door to Becker's office and the entire group could feel the tension hanging thick in the processed oxygen of the stairwell.

"Are we ready, gentlemen?" Toby asked and the others nodded. "Ok, remember now, let's play this smart and not go trigger happy. We don't want to have to shoot anyone although, if they start bringing weapons to bear, I want you two to start firing," he said, motioning to Max and Dimitri.

"Understood," Godansky answered and Max simply gulped once and nodded.

"Alright, now Ti should be giving us our GO signal at any moment. Once we hear that, it's through the door...understood?"

"Sure thing, boss," Rider Boone said, the anxiety on his face fully evident in the dull glow of the dim lamps spread evenly throughout the stairwell. Martino Velez leaned gently toward the door and put an ear to the cold metal surface. After several seconds, he faced the group and shook his head. "I can't hear a thing, I have no clue if there's anyone in there or not."

"Oh, they're in there," Toby said and readied himself for action. "You can bet, if that Calabrio kid took Hans Becker anywhere, it was right to this place. He wouldn't have something like this happen anywhere else but right here in the old man's office."

"I hope you're right, Toby," Max said and gripped the stock of his charger a little tighter.

"Don't you worry, Max," Tobias Thibodeau said. "Don't you worry."

Just then a second explosion sounded outside, this one smaller, and Max winced at the fact that their rental had to be sacrificed. At least the insurance that he had taken at the dealership would cover the loss of the vessel...although, some of their equipment would be harder to replace...

"That's our GO!" Toby said and Max wrenched down on the door's access bar. He rushed through and began screaming, just as they had planned it.

# # #

Sawyer had hit the deck again as another small shuttle on the tarmac of the starport exploded, a rush of heat actually making it into Becker's office through the blown-out windows, and he swore. This mission had gone to shit and he wanted it to be over already.

Just then, a part of the wall across the office crashed open and one of his men, with visor down, stumbled in screaming, "They're attacking us! They're attacking us!"

Everyone froze for an instant, including Sawyer, as he didn't want to fire on one of his own men amidst the confusion of the situation. The man continued his headlong rush into the office, weapon pointed downward, and crashed into Becker, driving him to the floor. As he had passed, the man had managed to reach out and grab for the girl, too, knocking her down as well.

Other men were running into the office now, too many for his mind to identify as friend or foe, although they weren't wearing his uniform. The tallest among them crashed into Sawyer's only other man in the office and the head of the mercenaries began to reach for his weapon.

One of the intruders covered the distance between the hole in the wall and Sawyer's position in three easy strides and Sawyer's right hand stopped on the butt of his weapon. The deep dark muzzle of a black blaster was less than three inches from his left eye and the man on the other side of it was grinning. "Not so fast, my friend."

More men were in the office now, the small room suddenly very crowded, and Sawyer lifted his hands into the air. "Get down on the rug very slowly and you won't get hurt," the man with the distinctly Soviet accent said and Sawyer complied. Was Becker in league with the Russians? He thought as he felt his hands roughly pinned behind his back and his weapon removed from the holster on his right hip.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Justin Calabrio had remained in his kneeling position in the center of the office. His eyes looked frightened and Sawyer laughed inwardly at the dark wet stain on the front of his pants. The man who was wearing the uniform of one of his team stood then and helped Becker to his feet. Removing the helmet from his head, Sawyer could see that this was not one of his soldiers.

"Aw, shit," he muttered and felt the muzzle of the blaster press a bit harder into the back of his neck.

"No talking from you," the Soviet accent said and Sawyer let his body relax. He wasn't about to die on the Moon today, not for the likes of that spineless Calabrio. Sometimes jobs went sour, this wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last, so Sawyer let all thoughts of fighting his way out of this exit his mind and he decided to ride it out to the end. He could always finagle his way out of this once the ordeal was over.

# # #

Tobias Thibodeau gave the custody of the mercenary he had tackled to Swayne Morrison and then stood to survey the office. Max was standing next to Becker, Dimitri was sitting atop the head mercenary, Martino had made sure that the office door was securely locked and Rider Boone had helped the young lady, whom none of them had expected to be here, to her shaky feet.

He made a slow circle to ensure that everything was under control and then turned to face the pathetic form of Justin Calabrio. He fixed the man with an angry glare and then turned toward Hans Becker. "Sir, you look a little rough, are you alright?"

"Yes, Tobias, yes, I'll be ok," the older man said in confusion. "What, what are you all doing here? What's happened?"

"We were able to create a little diversion, sir," Toby said and pointed a finger out the now glassless panes of the office. "My effects tech, I think you remember him, Ti Cho?"

Becker nodded and a grin appeared on his face.

"That's right, sir," Toby said. "He was able to gain access to the landing pad using your underground tunnel system and sabotage both of the shuttles in order to give us a little wiggle room once we got here. I'm sorry for the damage to your building and starport, Mr. Becker. It was...unexpected that the blasts would be so severe."

"That is quite alright, if it stopped this bastard's plans," Becker said and took one shaky step toward where Calabrio still knelt.

"So, you didn't sign the merger documents yet, then?" Max asked.

"No, I was just about to when that first shuttle blew," Becker said. "I had the pen in my hand, they had brought in Melanie and I...I..."

"It's ok, Mr. Becker," Toby said, noticing the facial bruising and bleeding lip of the young woman. "You acted accordingly, sir, especially under the circumstances."

"But, Toby, I still don't understand...I mean, you're the band, for goodness sakes!" Becker blurted.

"Yeah," Toby said and laughed. "That and a little more sometimes, Mr. Becker."

"The band?" Mick Sawyer said from his place on the rug. "The musicians?"

"Yeah, the musicians," Dimitri said and pressed the gun a bit harder into Sawyer's neck. "Now, shut the hell up."

"Max, why don't you rip up those documents," Toby said and Gun'jhur reached over to the desk to pick up the papers.

"Actually, Mr. Becker might enjoy that duty a bit more than I would, Tobias," Max said and Becker snatched the paperwork from Max's hands. Within seconds, the confetti-sized pieces fell to the carpeting of the office and Calabrio's jaw dropped open in wonder.

"You should feel amazed, Justin," Toby said and looked at Becker. "That is his name, right?"

"Yes," Becker said and fixed his attention on to the young man on his knees.

"Because, you see, you didn't just lose out on this deal today, Justin," Toby said. "I think you'll be surprised at all that's transpired this morning."

Just then a banging on the office door sounded and a gruff voice yelled from the other side to see if everything was alright. Toby motioned for Dimitri to let the leader of the mercenaries gain his feet and the tall musician addressed him directly. "Call off your forces, you don't work for Calabrio anymore."

"How's that, musician?" Sawyer said, having to tilt his head back to look up into the eyes of the tall man.

"Because...that man over there," Toby said and pointed toward Calabrio. "He's broke."

"What do you mean, broke?" Calabrio said, the first words he'd uttered since the band of musicians had stormed the office.

"I mean broke. Actually, broke and unemployed," Toby said. "As is your father and all of the other top-brass over at your organization."

"You are out of your mind!" Calabrio said. "My father's corporation is a multi-billion dollar operation."

"Hmmm, not anymore," Toby said and Max pulled out his MFM, handing it over to his boss. Toby fiddled with the controls for a few moments and then lowered the small screen so that Calabrio could see. "It seems that Becker Industrial Associates bought out your father's corporation just a little while ago. You see, it's all right there. All nice and legal. The documents have all been filed with the Universal Corporate Council, the money has been transferred over to Hans Becker's corporate accounts and the deal was sealed by both CEO's thumbprints. It's a done deal, Justin."

Calabrio slowly stood to his feet and reached his hands out to grasp the MFM. "No, it can't be! My father would not sell to him!"

"You're right," Toby said. "But it seems that there was a hostile takeover. It seems that you and your father have been beaten at your own game."

"You can't do this?" Calabrio muttered. "Who are you? You can't do this?"

"It's been done," Max said and shoved the little man back a step or two. "Sorry, that's how these things go sometimes."

"As for you," Toby said and motioned toward Sawyer. "He can't pay you anymore. If I were you, I would take whatever up-front payment that this little bastard gave you and run with it. If the transfer of money hasn't been secured, it could legally become a part of this transaction and you'll get nothing out of the deal."

"My boys and I don't take kindly to being cheated, musician," Sawyer said.

"You won't be, I'm sure that Mr. Becker here would be willing to pay you the remainder of your contract to ensure your cooperation in this matter. Maybe a bit more to ensure that you and your men won't come back to clean up a leftover mess."

"Absolutely," Becker said, his eyes also wide as he tried to discern this sudden turn of events.

Sawyer thought that over for a second and then nodded. "Done, I'll stand down my men."

"You can't do that!" Calabrio spat. "You work for me you imbecile!"

Sawyer laughed then and walked over to the little man. He grabbed him by the lapels of his expensive suit and hauled him to his tip-toes in order to bring the young Vice President a little closer to his face. "I don't work for you anymore, in fact, it seems that nobody does." With that, he let go of Justin Calabrio and spit in the thin man's face.

"Good day, gentlemen," Sawyer said and he glanced over at Max. "Is the man whose uniform you're wearing dead?"

"No," Max said. "He's in the Infirmary. Drugged."

"Very good," Sawyer said and looked back at Becker. "I'll be downstairs. When you finish here, sir, I'd appreciate it if we could finish our business as well."

"I'll be down soon, mercenary," Becker said with anger stewing behind his eyes.

"I know it's tough to give that man any money," Toby said as Sawyer exited the office. "But, believe me, it was nothing personal against you with he and his men. They work for whoever will pay them. He was acting on this little creep's orders."

"I know, Toby," Becker said and rubbed his bleeding and bruised face. "I know."

"The Universal Corporate Council might not approve the takeover if Calabrio decides to fight it with the Merger Committee," Toby said. "But, if you put enough pressure on the older Calabrio, especially in regards to leaking what has happened here today to the press and law enforcement agencies, he might back down and settle for a merger instead of an outright buyout. Something to think about."

"I'll consider it, Toby," Becker said and turned to hug his still crying secretary. Her sobbing grew to a crescendo as she fell into the arms of the older man, all of the stress and anxiety of the morning's events finally hitting home. Becker felt a few tears of his own stream down his face as he stroked Melanie Crawford's hair and told her that everything would be ok now.

Toby handed the MFM back to Max and looked over the entire group. "Well done, guys," he said and let out a nervous laugh. "Dammit all to hell, well done!"

The tension in the room was gone then, in the blink of an eye, all of them relaxed with the realization that the entire ordeal was over. Toby turned to Becker and shook the man's hand. "I wish we could have gotten here sooner, sir," he said, indicating the bruises and cuts on the older man's face.

"I still can't believe that you people did this at all," Hans Becker said and slumped down into his chair. "For goodness sakes, Toby, why? Why did you do this?"

Toby glanced at Max and smiled. The band's manager approached the head of Becker Industrial Associates and held out his micro-financial manager. The documents detailing Becker's hostile takeover of Calabrio Design & Manufacturing were gone from the small screen now, replaced by the payment screen for the band's performance last night.

"Well, sir," Max said and hesitated a moment before continuing. "We hadn't been paid yet for yesterday's show. If you remember, I had gone for my MFM just prior to that little idiot's arrival. And, well, we simply couldn't figure out any other way to collect our fee."

Becker laughed at that and clapped his hands together. "Astounding performance, both yesterday and today, my friends," He said and pressed his thumb to the spot indicated on the small screen. "In fact, double your fee right now and I'll affix my thumbprint to that screen, too."

Max looked over at Toby and received a nod in return. He made the proper adjustments on his MFM and Becker once again pressed his thumb against the screen. A small beep signaled the completion of the transaction and the musicians all smiled at their reward. "We'll be on our way now, Mr. Becker," Toby said and started for the door. "As for that little cretin, we can deliver him to your security office if you would like."

"No thank you, Toby," Becker said and turned to face the man. "I think I'll call his father so we can discuss this matter in further detail. But I would like several of my security men to be here when I do that."

Ti Cho entered the office from the outer corridor just then with a man in a Becker Industrial Associates Security Uniform and Toby sighed with relief at his Effects Tech's safe return. "Thank the good lord, Ti, we didn't know where you were," Toby said.

"I'd made it back down into the tunnel before triggering those charges but, man, did those shuttles ever go up!" Cho said and laughed. "Everyone here alright?"

"We are now," Max said, holding his MFM up high as the small group of musicians filed through the door of Hans Becker's office and into the corridor beyond.

Tobias Thibodeau had several things on his mind as he entered the ornate hallway—was there still enough time to make a shuttle hop down to Earth for the meeting with Fantasticon Productions? Would they be able to settle up quickly with the rental dealership on the destruction of the Valkyrie? Where might they be able to get their hands on some replacement equipment before the next gig? As he thought of these things and a few others during the first few steps he'd taken down the hall, something made him glance back at Hans Becker's office just as the heavy wooden door swung shut.

A moment or two later, Toby could have sworn that he'd heard several very heavy thuds followed by the painful high-pitched screams of the young Justin Calabrio still inside...