"Not just a name," Enoi said, wrapping his big fluffy tail around the post of the stool he sat on. "An assassin's name."
"Great call, Prax," Leevi smirked. "I mean, think big."
"Aim high," Prax laughed, but it was a bitter laugh. She knew they were in deep trouble. Well, the moment that Bhargol came prancing in with his "I've got more money than I can count" look on his otter-face. She knew that they'd come to the wrong place at the wrong time.
Possibly the worst time. They'd read the papers that morning, some bigshot official in the government of Narpash had been found quite dead in his heavily protected penthouse suite. The "king's crown" scribble had been found at the scene - the calling card of none other than their band's namesake, Sovereign Fate.
Prax gulped back her anger, and her helpless feeling, and then stretched. "Guys, let's just get the show on. I mean, what's he gonna do? Show up on stage and kill us in front of a packed house?"
"If we get a packed house, I'll be happy." Enoi said. Their drummer, the big black lion Kmarks, came in moments later, shutting the door behind him. But even while the door was slightly open, they could all hear the cheering and talking of the crowd in the venue beyond.
"Looks like a good place, nice night. Too bad this isn't an open-air stadium, huh?" Kmarks said. He was less affected by the grumpy and gloomy states of his comrades. He'd been through worse. He draped his thickly muscled arm over Prax, and carefully avoided her horns while giving her a noogie.
Prax laughed, and lightened up. "Well, he can't even think of trying anything while we're on stage. So let's get out there."
She picked up her instrument cases, a set of small flutes and a bigger saxophone, and urged the others to go out into the hall. It was several minutes before their stage time proper, but they wanted to leave the worry behind.
Leevi's laser-keys were already on stage, her hooves would never be able to manipulate an old-world keyboard, but the light-activated board did her just fine. She had special hoof-picks for the other stringed instruments that were out there. No one asked how Prax managed to play a sax with only three fingers on each hand.
Enoi's bass was always kept near him. He hugged it to his soft fur, protectively. He'd be more worried about it than any danger to himself. His flexible snow-leopard hands were very large, he wouldn't want to play something smaller than a bass anyway. Singleminded, he exited the room.
The shadows in the dressing room deepend when Prax switched off the lights. She took one sweeping look around, saw nothing, and went up to the stage with the others.
***
While the stadium wasn't entirely packed, it was more than a small crowd. It was certainly bigger than the little chump dives that Bhargol would have had them playing a month ago. Offworld was so much better than on the old homeworld! It was a brilliant tour, and people from everywhere around would come to these interstellar venues to see the next big thing.
It would only be a matter of time before Sovereign Fate was "it".
That is, if they survived.
In the darkness below the stage, an even darker shape moved around. Softly padded feet gave him an edge he always exploited. Reflective eyes made him able to catch the slightest movement. His black ears pushed back, while his whiskers twitched and he had to force a sneeze back. There was still a certain level of dust everywhere - but then again he was a clean freak and his allergies could only help him in the end.
Or so he thought. Sovereign Fate, the assassin, crept below the stage while his namesake pranced about up there. It was a more tribal/primative sound they brought from the homeworld, but with the added riffs from the laser keys and the little trilling flute notes, it sounded like a mix of dance trends from several centuries all together.
It wasn't actually half bad. The panther assassin leaned against a storage box, and listened in for a while. Perhaps he wouldn't take their name as a threat. As long as he wasn't associated with them...
No... Wait. He sniffed the air, and listened as the strange clicking of claws went past the doorway to the understage. A chittering and private laugh escaped someone as they passed by the dark rooms, and carried with it a smell - the crisp scent of money.
And if there was one thing that bands were known for, it wasn't money - it was their managers stealing their money. Fate slid out from the trap-door area of the stage, and followed Bhargol to the dressing rooms.
Quietly listening in, Fate figured the otter to be carrying about ten to twelve thousand kee, easily. It was a small band, a small fee, it wasn't like they were on some victory tour - they were unknowns.
But it was cash. And if there was one thing Fate had a weakness for it was cash. Not like Bhargol, who liked to roll in it and smell it and wad it up and make things with it, but Fate liked to spend it. He had a wardrobe, he had cars and even his own private starjet. He had three penthouses filled with fine art - that he hadn't stolen, and one warehouse filled with that which he had.
This would pay for another fountain, or a plated statue. Or even some body armor? Hmn... There was a thought.
Fate moved into the dressing room hallway and softly opened the door. Bhargol didn't look up, he was too busy counting cash.
"Three thousand fifty, three thousand sixty, eighty, heeeee..." He tittered again. Fate almost lost his lunch. He'd been known to be greedy, but this was ridiculous.
The big black paw hand which came down on Bhargol's shoulder startled the otter into a stiff half-shocked state. All the otters fur stood out, but it wasn't going to help make him look any bigger to the cat, who was nearly twice his mass.
"You've got yourself a nice little setup here," purred Fate. "Now, if only you'd found an original name..."
Bhargol gulped, his heart starting again and his breathing was quick. "Ah - ah, um, I can explain that. I can. I think."
"Don't bother," Fate said, sliding himself down next to the otter on another chair. "No need. Now, your little half hooved band out there is doing fine." He leveled his glossy black eyes at the yellow ones of the otter. "I want a cut. You're letting them use my name, it's not something you have much choice in. If you want them to continue -- safely -- you'll send half of your cut to me. Call it... licensing."
"..." The otter sat there, unable to form words. Finally, he closed his mouth, and nodded. "All right, then... Um, you've got a card? An address where I can send it?"
Fate smirked, "of course I do. But you don't get to use it. Send it ..." he thought a moment, and then wrote something on a napkin nearby. "Here. I'll be checking that box at least twice a month. I know it won't be filled to the brim, but it had best be something more than 'nothing'. Got it?"
Bhargol nodded, and Fate disappeared into the shadows again. The otter slumped back into his seat, and then noticed that the big black cat had stolen at least half of the take already - while he was unable to breathe?
***
On stage, the cheering half-furry fans went wild at the sax solo that Prax did. She was always happy with that one, it was second only to singing, which she did very well indeed. Kmarks slapped the leather and wood of the drums, behind her, working a rhythm which sent the mosh pit into hysterics. They could keep up, if they tried. Or, if they had the slightest African animal or blood in their history. Very primal, that beat.
Enoi kept pace with it easily, swaying slightly and basking in the warm spotlight. His fur was coming off in clumps, he was after all from a much colder climate than the others in the group. But he always loved to feel sunlight, lamplight, whatever it was that made his long fur heated. He dipped his head with the beat, but did no antics like some groups bassists would.
Leevi swished her hands before her, in the air above the laser keyboard. The little coded lights on it flickered off when she passed her hand between the beams, and she grooved out to the beat. She could do this with her eyes closed, she loved this song. She heard Prax begin to sing, and threw her head back with the backup vocal.
An eighty minute show, plus two encores later, and the band took their bows. Enoi's fluffy white fur was simply everywhere, and fangirls vainly attempted to get some of it from the stage. He was the cute one after all.
When the lights in the stadium went up, and the huge humming in everyone's ears would not go away, it signalled the end of the show for sure. The group greeted their roadies as they started to disassemble the stage lighting, and pack their instruments away. Holding on to one another in exhaustion and happiness, they made their way to the backstage stairs.
Where Sovereign Fate himself stood with his arms crossed over his big black chest. His dark tail swished behind him, but stopped when they realized who he was. He was blocking the door. Kmarks eyed the assassin, decided that stuffing his drum sticks up the panther's hind end would be difficult but not impossible.
"Good show, children," the panther said. The group could barely hear him. "Now, continue to do well. that is all I ask. I demand perfection from myself, so why should I get anything less from you?"
"Now just a minute--" Prax started, getting defensive. Her head went down a little, she was a pronghorn after all and those horns were pretty sharp. "We didn't know you were--"
"I realize that little girl," Fate said, striking out his dark hand - no claws out - and pressing Prax's velvety nose with one outstretched finger. "I know that. Now you do. So do as I say, and you will not - get - hurt."
"We weren't hurting anyone," Enoi said, "you're the one who does that."
"For a living, yes," Fate said, eyes narrow and voice low. It sent shivers up Prax and Leevi's spines - they were the herbivores of the group and couldn't help it. Old habits and instincts die hard. "And I will not do it to you unless I must."
"We could just change the group's name," Leevi said, her big doe eyes shining with worry. "I mean, it's not like many people have heard of us."
"But lots of people have heard of you," Kmarks said. He ran his paw hand through the big dark mane on his head, and let the assassin see his white claws.
"Don't think you can upstage me, drummer boy," Fate hissed, angry. "I am telling you to go your way and do well. The least you could do is thank me for the use of my name, and pray that I do not have to find you to punish you for abusing it."
He pressed his finger into Prax's nose again, "you're the sensible one, from what I can tell." He said. She nodded, his finger going along with her nod. "Then keep them in line. Sing songs and dance. The outworlds need you. And I will be going." He vanished like that, only Enoi had the slightest hint of which way he'd gone, a vague scent on the breeze after he'd gone.
"Wow..." Leevi said, shaking. "That was weird."
"No kidding," Prax announced, straightening her legs and standing tall. "Well, let's go. We've got to get ready for our trip, and Danach is our next destination. Anyone heard of it?"
"Oooh! Me!" Leevi cheerfully said, trying to get the chill from her mind. "It's neat, don't know how much we'll be taking in, but I've heard they have dragons! Maybe we could see them, while we're there? Our next stop won't be for a ways, right?"
"It's pretty out of the way, yeah," Kmarks agreed, as they packed away into the dressing room...
NEXT!!!
Female
Age 20's or so
Pronghorn Gazelle
Strong willed and fairly smart, vocal and sensible about things.
Plays flutes, reeds, and sings
Female
Age 18
Red Deer
More simpleminded than complex, worries a lot, but enjoys herself.
Plays laser keys, and several stringed instruments, vocals
Male
Age 22
Snow Leopard
Quiet, observant and smooth, rarely bothered about anything.
Plays bass guitar
Male
Age 28
Black Lion
Brave, but not stupid, dependable, pleasant.
Plays drums of all kinds