A man sat in a quiet, well decorated office, rubbing his hands nervously. He looked up at the ornate clock ticking on the wall every few seconds. He hurriedly stood to face the door as it began to open.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Johnson. Did you have to wait long?”

“No, sir, not long at all. I had just sat down actually before you came in.” Mr. Johnson shuffled his feet.

“Well, sit, sit. No need to stand for me. I heard you had a business proposition to discuss.”

“Yes, well, Mr. Simmons, what my benefactor wants is rather simple,” Mr. Johnson said as he sat down once more.

“Oh,” Mr. Simmons raised an eyebrow. He sat across from Mr. Johnson. “And what would that be?”

Mr. Johnson liked his lips.

“You see, my benefactor managed to obtain recently a particular drug – a serum, per say – and he was wondering if you would be interested.”

“A serum.” Simmons rolled a pen in his hands. “It would depend. What are it’s effects?”

Mr. Johnson reached down into a briefcase and handed a package to Mr. Simmons.

“Inside is everything you need to know about it. My benefactor included a sample of the serum, though I would only suggest testing it on a subject you consider disposable.” Simmons open the package and glanced at the sheets of paper within. His eyebrows furrowed.

“This… While it is interesting, are you positive it does what you say it does? Forgive me, the effects sound… quite unbelievable.”

“It works exactly as described. We have a source that says the clinical trials were very successful.”

“Tell me, am I the first you’ve come to with this?”

“You mean, is it already in circulation? You are the first. My benefactor was very insistent that you be the first I present this deal to. However, I must be honest with you. You are not the first to come in possession of the drug.”

“Who?” Simmons frowned.

“I am not at liberty to say. You’ll have to take that up with my benefactor if you decide to meet with him.”

Mr. Simmons sat silent for a moment in thought. He tapped his finger on the arm of his chair twice before saying, “What are the contents of this proposition?”

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“Simple. My benefactor is willing to provide an amount of the serum for you to do with as you please. In exchange, he would like for you to be his patron, so to say.”

“Be simple, Mr. Johnson. What is he really asking for?”

Mr. Johnson leaned forward.

“Asylum, Mr. Simmons. He wants asylum.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Basilisk shifted his weight as he watched the steadily approaching fighter planes. He adjusted his scope, then adjusted the tripod. He checked once more to see if the safety was off. He chewed on his cheek and adjusted his scope once more.

“Stop fidgeting,” Deheu said over the link. “Aren’t sniper’s supposed to be patient? If I didn’t know you had the best aim on the whole ship, I wouldn’t have guess you were anything remotely close to a sniper.” Klark snickered.

“I’m sorry. I always nervous before a fight, especially when I’m a sitting duck. Aren’t snipers supposed to hide? What the heck is Hime thinking?” Basilisk grumbled.

The Cakemen were in battle mode. Deheu, Klark, Tegan, Blick, Josem, and Sven were settled into the Biscotti’s six-gun turrets, waiting for the marauders like birds of prey. Heva and Rowan saddled up on the two hover warbikes, armed to the teeth, and were waiting in the cargo bay. Gen and Froi were with Juleka to load and launch missiles.

Hime hadn’t exactly liked the set up. Juleka had informed, quite angrily, that the Cakemen’s last paycheck wasn’t enough to by more missiles. They only had twelve in stock. The turrets ran on electricity, so as long as Biscotti had energy, they would do just fine, only they didn’t deal a whole lot of damage. Missiles were the hard hitters.

So Hime banked on Basilisk. They had one high energy, laser sniper rifle, one so strong it could pierce through five layers of the super dense alloy used to plate flying military grade ships. It was hard to come by.

Basilisk was by far the best shot. If he could take out even just a squad captain of a squad of fighters, Hime knew this aerial battle would go much better. This was the reason Basilisk laid shivering under a tarp strapped to the upper deck of Biscotti.

He wasn’t very happy about it.

“Everyone strapped up and ready to go?” Hime asked through the link. A variety of curses was the response. Hime laughed.

“Bask, you good?” He asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. I better be getting a pay raise for this.”

“No pay raise. I’ll give you a bonus instead.”

“Really?” Basilisk brightened. “How much.”

“Oh- let’s say fifty cents for every bird you take down.”

“What? There’s only like two hundred and thirty out there! That’s not enough! Give me more.”

“Show how many you can bring down, and I’ll think about it.”

 “Where’s my pay raise?” Deheu said.

“Why would you get a pay raise? You’re not the one squatting like a fish in a barrel!”

“Bask, fishes don’t squat.”

“Sure they do, those red ones with the nasty claws squat all the time.”

“Lobsters? Those aren’t fish.”

“I think he means crayfish, Deheu,” Hime said.

“Yeah, see, it’s a fish. Even has it in the name.”

“Still not a fish. Crustacean. It’s different.”

“If it lives underwater, it’s a fish.”

“Oh, shut up you nimrod. You’re almost as bad as Sven.”

“I resent that. I am way better than Sven. Though it looks like I’ll have to repay you later. Birds coming. Looks like our dinner has arrived!” The fighter planes entered firing range. Basilisk watched them for a moment. He smiled as he picked out the leader from within the swarm. Carefully, he centered his scope on the plane, following it as it swam through the air.

“Alright you roats!” Hime yelled through his meta-link. “You know what to do. If you don’t, you ain’t jeckin’ Cakemen, that’s for sure! Let’s give ’em something to eat. Bask do your worst.”

“Aye-ey Cap’n,” Basilisk said. He pulled the trigger.