FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Urokon was home of the Kyyreni, and that was enough to make it off limits to most races. Situated in a remote corner of the galaxy known as the Borderlands, the Kyyreni lived a life of endless raiding, each House seeking to outdo the other in feats of battle. When Starfleet began the deep-space colonisation effort known as the Icara Project, they unwittingly placed themselves in the firing line. For years there was no clue to the coming danger, just intermittent bursts of radio static sent by broadcasters centuries dead. Then, almost two hundred years to the day of Icara's founding, an entire colony fleet vanished overnight. The cause remained unknown for many years; Starfleet ships launched from Icara found nothing save a series of long-faded Jump wakes, with no clue as to where the attackers had come from or fled to. This was, for most Kyyreni, their first encounter with many of Starfleet's most prominent races. Out of all the Raiders, it was Brahlt, leader of the House of Tu'ri, who returned home with the greatest prize of all...

Snow was falling on his homestead as Brahlt returned home. Half a dozen wolf-like figures stood waiting for him, their corn-blond fur bristling against the cold. They were stripped to the waist to show their battle scars, and each carried a ceremonial long-handled sword. To the Aspatrian boy being dragged along behind the warlord they looked similar to his own people, but far more bestial, with thick manes and lion-tails. They had feral eyes, vaguely reptilian in design, and strange little patches of black skin next to the eyes. Unknown to the boy, those patches were sensitive to heat instead of light.

Beyond the warriors stood a group of females, distinguished by their brown and grey fur. They wore clothing made from exotic fabrics and decorated with rare jewels, all taken from the spoils of battle. Brahlt's wife, Yvessa, stood with her paws upon the shoulders of a young pup; her son, Vaahn.

"Ah, my greatest treasures!" Brahlt laughed, embracing his wife and ruffling his son's hair. The lad was still too young to have grown a mane of his own. "I come home with spoils to make our Household proud!"

"And what is that?" Yvessa asked, nodding to the terrified creature beside him.

"Our foes were of many races. These 'Aspatrians' were the least numerous; only three, including him. He was the prize of choice."

"Then I am glad you claimed him." Yvessa answered.

Vaahn stared at the Aspatrian, gripped by curiosity at the sight of his first alien. The Aspatrian's muzzle was stained with tears and turned his head away from the gaze; a sign of submission.

"What's his name?"

Brahlt thought about this. "What about 'Jas'?"

"It'll do." His wife agreed. "Come, Vaahn. Your father will no doubt wish to rest. JarFA: Go put the slave to use."

As he was led away by his mother, Vaahn found his thoughts lingered on the new addition to the Household. Jas represented the galaxy beyond his homeworld, the place the warriors went to earn glory. He was determined to learn all he could from Jas, so he could become a grand warrior like his father.

Four years later...

"We should go back!" Eskal whined.

The other four boys turned back to him. The moon was setting fast in the twilight sky, and the lights of Yvenik were a vague haze on the horizon. Up in the hills the air was brisk and fresh, yet still carrying a stinging cold, as if the spring had been unable to climb this high.

"Come on, we're not far from the peak." Vaahn pointed up at the distant outcrop high above. The animal paths were few and far between this far up, and often the boys had to resort to freehand climbing to reach their goal.

Poys scratched his ear nervously. "You know, Eskal has a point. It is getting really hard."

Uikke laughed at his younger brother's protests, but Jaahl kept quiet. He had attempted this climb last year, and had broken his arm when he fell. His body language made it clear he did not want to repeat that walk home.

Vaahn kept his eye on the peak. Though he was older than his brothers he was just ten years of age. As the eldest of Brahlt's children, he always felt the need to go one better than his siblings. This desire to go back voiced by the others steeled his resolve.

"Go home if you want, I'm going up."

"And he if he's going I am!" Uikke added.

Jaahl snarled at Uikke. "I'm in!"

"I want to go home!" Eskal wailed, causing Uikke to turn on him again.

"Listen to that one howl!" The Kyyreni boy laughed, pointing and dancing around as he started to sing. "Poor little Eskal stamping his feet! Crying for his mommy's teat!"

"Shut uuup!"

"Make me!" Uikke snapped back, punching his younger brother. "Stupid little runt!"

Eskal's sobs echoed off the rock. "I'm t-telling father!"

This time, everyone joined Uikke's laughter. "You think he cares about you? Nobody cares about you! You're pathetic! You're a weakling and a coward! Hey, Vaahn, how about we drag him up to the top and leave him up there to die?"

Vaahn shook his head. "Too much work. I say we throw him off now."

Eskal screamed again. Uikke advanced on him as if he were obeying his older brother, but Poys stepped in. "Stop it! You know damn well what father would do to us if we didn't bring him back!"

"I wanna g-go hooome!"

"Shut up!" Jaahl snapped, his patience worn thin. He threw a rock that connected with a satisfying crack, and Eskal's bawling redoubled.

"Jaahl, Uikke! Enough! Poys, take the runt home." Vaahn snarled at his brothers until he was convinced his orders were going to be obeyed. "I am going to the peak."

As the youngest two of the party began the trip home, the remaining three heard Eskal's screaming as he was led away. "I hate you!" He yelled. "I wish you'd all die!"

Vaahn scoffed, already ten feet off the ground and rising. "I'm not going to die. I'm going to live forever."

Four years later...

Vaahn ached for home. Three years of roaming the stars had seen him grow from a clumsy young boy into a blooded warrior worthy of respect. The hold of the Wrathblade groaned under the strain of its cargo; plunder and slaves taken from a dozen worlds. The crew sang songs of blood and glory, recounting tales of how Ptassa's sky burned from salvoes of torpedo strikes, or how Vaahn himself gunned down the V'ku Shrinewards and led the charge into their most sacred palaces. Brolk, one of the senior Shiphands, had amassed such a vast amount of wealth that he intended to found his own Household, having convinced half a dozen other crew members to serve as is vassals and Houseguards.

When Urokon finally came into view, it was as moving for Vaahn as the first time he'd viewed his world from space; a tidally locked planet, the Kyyreni civilisation primarily inhabited the twilight belt between endless day and freezing night. He had known no other world like it, and would not wish to live anywhere else.

Ignoring the prospect of feasting and women, Vaahn had the thralls and dock-slaves unload his share of the takings and return them to his home. Heart pounding in anticipation of seeing his family again, the young warrior had to fight the urge to run through the streets. He resisted only because he was mindful of his station; heir apparent to a proud, if 'Common' Household.

He left the winding streets behind, moving into the walled grounds of House Tu'ri. Copses of alien trees lined the gravel path, broken by statues of famous Lords of the House, carved out of Vektallan marble. Tu'ri was one of the few houses with any significant stock of it left. He skirted an unfamiliar flower bed, planted where once there was an oval of corngrass, and turned his gaze to the vast mansion itself. Built of heavy sandstone blocks, the house itself was vast enough for a dozen families, their servants and all their worldly goods. The grand frontage had been improved in his absence, bedecked with snarling gargoyles and the pinnacle spire replaced by a silver statue of Risik, the Goddess of Fortune. Pennants fluttered from the balconies, each bearing the crest of a Homeguard family sworn to the service of his Father.

It was only after a few moments he became aware of an unsettling absence. The ancient stone emblem of Tu'ri should have been flanked a double-banner depicting his father's heraldry. Instead, the flagpoles were bare.

Running inside, all thoughts of a homecoming forgotten, Vaahn stormed through the meeting hall and ran for his living quarters. Dodging past shocked house slaves who threw themselves against the walls to avoid being trampled, Vaahn pushed through to his father's bedroom. In his heart he already knew what he would find, but seeing it with his own eyes was no less terrible for it. His father lay wrapped in a death shroud, surrounded by the Houseguard.

"Vaahn!" Aargas, senior Houseguard of Tu'ri, strode over and embraced the boy. "I am... I am sorry, my boy."

Vaahn broke the embrace, fighting back tears. "How did he die?"

"He died well." Yalgan answered. His face and neck bore scars earned in the boy's absence. "His wounds were all to the fore, and terrible indeed. He held on for weeks, refusing to die until he had seen you again. He... he passed away last night."

Vaahn gave a stifled sob, scowling at the moment of weakness. His muzzle was darkened by streaks of tears. "He did not deserve this! Not to die in his bed like this! I came home to see him and I was a day too late?"

"Wounds of battle killed him; it is still a warrior's death."

"I know that!" Vaahn snapped, trying to compose himself. He took several long, deep breaths. "So... this makes me the new Lord of the House..."

Axol shook his head. "Not quite. There are challengers to the title."

"You mean yourself, I take it?"

Axol nodded. Now Vaahn knew where Yalgan's scares had come from.

"Very well, Axol. I accept the challenge. Find your blade. Now."

"Now?"

"Yes, now!" Vaahn barked, his body bristling for a fight. "I come home to find my father dead and you picking at his corpse like a carrion beast! I do not intend to suffer that insult a moment more!"

An hour later, the duel began. The entire household had gathered to witness the challenge, and even some outsiders had been permitted to attend. Houses allied to Tu'ri arrived in force, some to cheer on their favoured champion, others merely to witness the event. A few were placing bets.

Both warriors stood naked in the centre of a circular ring, as was tradition for such a duel. They were permitted nothing but their body and their weapons of choice. For Axol, that was a ceremonial sword, long handled with a gently curved blade. Vaahn chose a pair of wave-swords, weapons that rewarded agility more than brute strength. Both warriors circled each other slowly, the soft white sand beneath them clinging to their foot-paws as they moved. There were no cries from either warrior or crowd, for all knew this was a grim and serious bout. Vaahn caught sight of his brothers and sisters, stood in the front row of the watchers and silently willing him to win. He knew Axol's family would be doing the same.

"Still time to run, pup." Axol jeered.

Vaahn would not rise to the taunt. He twirled his blades for the look of the thing, and licked his dry lips in anticipation. "I'm not going to enjoy this, Axol, but I will enjoy fucking your wife when you're dead."

The older warrior lunged, roaring in anger. It was a mistake. Vaahn span away from the strike, cleaving up with a low swing. Only Axol's experience saved him, dodging the strike and parrying instinctively to block the return strike. Vaahn span, swung and danced away, his form perfect and speed unmatched. He moved gracefully, using the energy of youth to overcome the stronger Axol. However, Axol was no rookie. He struck out time and again, twice his blade nicking skin as the younger warrior failed to get clear. Vaahn ducked a decapitating strike and span to dodge the returning uppercut. Axol was already forming the parry, but rather than coming in high as a proper swordsman should, Vaahn struck low. The older man barely jumped away in time to avoid having his legs cleaved off, escaping with a deep cut to his left leg. Snarling and swearing, Axol went back on the offensive, hammering Vaahn with overhead strikes. He forced the boy back, smashing blade against blade time and again. Vaahn was barely keeping pace, struggling to find an opening to dodge away, and in a moment of carelessness he gave Axol an opening. The curving sword bit deep into his muzzle, tearing across his face and putting out his left eye.

The onlookers cried out, horror and excitement in equal measure rising up as Vaahn fell. He lay at the edge of the ring dazed and panting, yet still clinging to life. Axol adjusted his grip and stood over the boy, sword poised for the coup de grâce. As his sword plunged down, Vaahn's blades rose up. He parried the blow, pushing the sword clear over his head. At the same time he kicked out as hard as he could into Axol's groin, bringing his swords around as the older Kyyreni toppled. His swords bit flesh, gutting the man. Axol staggered backwards and let Vaahn stand. Wasting no time, Vaahn charged into his crippled foe again and killed him dead with a single swing. Roars of approval rose from the onlookers, and his rule of the House was now beyond contestation.

"You have done us proud, Vaahn!" Aargas cried as he pushed through the throng. He drew a silver blade and cut his paw, letting the blood swell up before pressing it against Vaahn's chest. "By my blood, my loyalty and life are yours!"

Others came forward, each one cutting their palms as Aargas had. Each family of Tu'ri, without hesitation, came to welcome their new champion.

With the surgeon tending to his wounds, Vaahn listened to his mother's council as much as he could bear to. Yvessa sat beside the doctor, soaking bandages and filling Vaahn's head with notions of duty and responsibility.

"You will need to take a wife, Vaahn." She said without looking up. "Your father worked hard to make House Tu'ri what it is today. You need a successor for when you too meet your end."

"I do not need your lectures on mortality, mother!" Vaahn said more harshly than he meant to. He caught his mother's eye, expecting anger at his outburst but instead seeing only pain.

"I... I know. Do you think this is easy for me? To lose a husband and almost lose my eldest son in the same day?" Whatever had held her emotions back failed her, and she began to sob heavily. "I feared you were dead! You had been gone so long and we have known so many hardships! Poor Mysota dying two summer's back and-"

"Mysota?" Vaahn felt another pang in his heart. She had been his eldest sister, and considered one of the most beautiful females in the city.

"I am sorry, Vaahn. There is so much to tell you."

Vaahn's sigh of sorrow was lost in a yelp of pain as the doctor applied salve to his wound. It hurt more than losing the eye had.

"Damn it! I... I know you want to talk. Please, just give me time. I am hurting in more ways than one, and I need rest. Please..."

Yvessa nodded, handing the surgeon his bandages.

"Now, sire, please try to rest as much as you can. The wound is cleaned and will heal as much as it can, but we cannot save the eye. You still have another though, thank the Goddess, and I don't think your heat-sense is damaged."

"You may go. Both of you. Mother, please send Jas to me; I am going to retire for the night."

Jas arrived as commanded. The Aspatrian boy had changed little in three years, save to grow taller and become fairer of face. He wore a fine green tunic that matched those Vaahn had glanced on the other slaves; quite a difference from the usual rags normally given to the serving classes.

"You look terrible, sir." Jas said quietly.

"Thank you for stating the bloody obvious." Vaahn snapped back, striding over and clutching at Jas' tunic as if he was expecting it to be dangerous. "What are these?"

"Lilet's idea." Jas answered meekly. "She says even the slaves of the House should reflect its glory."

"I don't like them." Vaahn answered. "Take them off."

Jas nodded, carefully unbuttoning the clothing. "Should I wear more traditional clothes, sire?"

Vaahn grinned at the Aspatrian. "Since when did you wear clothes in my chambers?"

The Kyyreni smiled, catching sight of a blush forming on Jas' face. The slave boy turned away to hide his embarrassment.

"When you're done undressing, run me a bath."

Jas obeyed. Vaahn's chambers had a private bathing suite, which had been kept well stocked despite his absence. Jas filled the bath itself with hot water, lacing it with exotic soaps and placing towels in easy reach. Vaahn came through soon after, shoulders sagging with fatigue. He stepped into the hot, soothing liquid and slid down with a contented sigh. Jas gave his lord a few moments before reaching over to scrub, using his paws to work soap into the fur and remove tangles and knots. As the Aspatrian's paws worked across his body, Vaahn allowed his own to wander across the young man's chest.

"I missed you, Jas." Vaahn purred, catching a slight hint of arousal poking from the boy's sheath. Jas hesitated, catching the Kyyreni's glance and blushing at being examined.

"Oh come on, you're still shy?"

"It's been a long time." Jas mumbled, remembering himself and resuming the task at hand. Vaahn allowed the boy to finish his work, though whenever the Aspatrian calmed himself he used a few well placed strokes of his finger to tease the young man once more. Cleaned and refreshed, he towelled dry and let his thoughts turn to other matters; the soft warmth of a bed, and the prospect of company.

"Is... there anything else you wanted, sir?"

Vaahn laughed at Jas' shyness, gripping him by the shoulders and pulling him close. One hand wandered down Jas' body, finding his sheath and gently teasing him to arouse the Aspatrian.

"I want some company." He murred nibbling on the fox's neck.

"I-I'll get in trouble-"

Vaahn laughed at the protest, gently holding the boy's muzzle closed. "With who? There's no higher authority than me. If I say you stay with me, then you stay with me. I need something today I can enjoy."

Ten years later...

The brothels and bars of the city of Yvenik were full to bursting. The raiding season had come to an end, and not by accident did this end coincide with the start of mating season; whores in heat had no shortage of work, and those with aspirations beyond drunken sex were impressing prospective mates with tales of personal glory and stockpiles of looted riches.

Vaahn and Jas stumbled together from brothel to brothel, stinking of cheap ale and cheaper company. Since becoming the Lord's bedfellow and pleasure slave, Jas had enjoyed a greater degree of freedom and respect within the House of Tu'ri. For the last few years, it had become the norm to bring the Aspatrian along to the House's drunken celebrations. Vaahn's eldest brother, Taryyk, had stayed behind this season to manage the House affairs, and was eager to work despite the Lord's inebriation.

"Still alive? I knew I'd find you eventually!" Taryyk chuckled, discovering the pair leaning on each other in the centre of the street. "I'm guessing you've not heard the news?"

"News?" Vaahn slurred, looking to Jas to see if the tipsy Aspatrian had any answers.

"You're the talk of the city, brother! Remember the Noble's feast? It seems Soua took a shine to you."

Vaahn tried to remember that day, half a year ago. Excessive drinking made thinking difficult, but the face of the Noble's first daughter loomed in his vision. "She... you think she'd choose me?"

Taryyk smiled, throwing an arm around his brother's shoulder. "Oh yes! In fact, rumour has it she has spurned every attempt at her affections thus far, waiting for you to return!"

Vaahn swore loudly, shoving his brother away. "By the gods! Why the bloody hell didn't you tell me about this as soon as we docked? I've wasted..." his fury burned itself out in a sudden flash of vertigo. He staggered once and fell into Jas' waiting arms, looking up toward the cloudless twilight sky.

"It's late." He mumbled. "I'll deal with this in the morning."

Vaahn did not remember how he got home. Someone, presumably Jas, had undressed him and placed him beneath the sheets. His head throbbed from the night before, and despite the moon being barely visible on the horizon, he knew he'd never get back to sleep. He may as well start the day early.

Moving carefully so as not to wake Jas, Vaahn slipped from his bed. He moved quietly toward the bathroom, trying to ignore the twinge in his right leg. He'd been shot twice just below the knee on the first assault, and the wound had hurt ever since. Secretly, he feared it may be crippling, but he did not dare speak of it. A basin of cold water helped clear his head and prepare him for the coming day. He looked into the mirror set above the basin, shocking himself with his own reflection. He'd always been handsome, a reward of generations of good breeding, but for a Kyyreni who had not yet reached his twenty fifth year, he looked terrible; closer to forty. His eyes were baggy and the scars of a life of violence showed clearly through his fur.

He splashed his face to wash away the lingering ache in his head. He looked like crap because he'd drunken himself into a stupor the night before and hadn't washed in a fortnight. He was in the prime of his life; a young man who had beaten down every challenge in the past decade. His name was spoken with awe by his allies, and fear by his foes. Vaahn, son of Brahlt, Lord of the House of Tu'ri, was a force to be reckoned with. He looked once more into his reflection, and snarled at himself. Today, his might would be challenged once more, and he would rise to that challenge.

"Still alive?" Jas entered and wrapped his arms around Vaahn's waist.

"Aye, but someone won't be for long." Vaahn answered, smiling at his reflection and tidying his mane.

"You mean you're going to have to kill someone?" Vaahn could hear the disapproval in Jas' voice.

"Probably. I doubt I'll win Soua without a challenge."

"Then don't win her!" Jas answered more forcefully than he meant to. Vaahn turned and fixed the Aspatrian with a hard stare. The fox lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry, sire. I shouldn't have-"

"If anyone can speak their mind to me it's you, but the fact you would quest ion this marriage disappoints me."

Jas flinched, the calm tone of his friend and master somehow hurting him more than if Vaahn was screaming with anger. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I... I just wish you didn't have to fight. You know I don't like it."

Vaahn nodded, giving Jas a smile to show he was forgiven. "The reward is worth the risk. I intend to see this House rise to Noble status, and Soua is vital for that." He gripped the fox tightly and ruffled the fur on his head. "Don't worry; I'm not going to abandon you."

"Just be safe. Please."

"I will." Vaahn promised.

Jas did not see Vaahn for the rest of the day, nor the day after. He became increasingly anxious, probing those he dared to for answers. Rumours of Vaahn's death emerged quickly and spread like wildfire, doing nothing but fuel his rising panic. He slept little, clutching the pillows and breathing deep the lingering scent of his lover. Eventually, after almost a week, Vaahn returned. He was missing four teeth, a piece of his ear, and the tips of two fingers on his right hand. When he staggered back into the grounds of the mansion, Jas ran out to greet him.

"Vaahn!" Jas cried, stopping short and taking in the fresh wounds with horror. "What happened to you?"

"I became a Noble." Vaahn mumbled, and he slumped to his knees as Jas threw his arms around him.

Eleven years later...

There were no songs any more. There was no drinking in the streets. Fear hung in the air like a choking mist, sapping the life from the city.

Vaahn listened to the Nobles and Lords gathered within his home as they argued back and forth across the table. The metallic fingers of his left arm, lost in a duel for the Landsdeed to the city, clicked against the polish darkwood surface of the meeting table. The sound was enough to end the arguments of the Lords.

"Gentlemen." Vaahn growled at the assembled men. "We can sit and argue for days, and whilst we do this 'Starfleet' will come and crush us. We must act, and act soon. The King has entrusted to us the guarding of the Jukoran Gulf. He gave me three days to devise a strategy. Two days are up. What do we have?"

The assembled rulers of Yvenik had the decency to appear embarrassed. Lord Qyyrl of House Raskamaht turned to his aide and took an offered pad. "I know this has met with disapproval before, but I must submit it again."

Vaahn accepted the pad. "An alliance with the Va'uuq?"

"They promise to bolster our fleets. It would triple our fighting strength."

Vaahn twirled the pad idly, catching the eye of a fellow Noble and flicking it across the table. His metal fingers drummed once more. A few Lords rose to speak their mind, but each one was shot down with a rapier-swift glance. It was clear Vaahn had ears only for his brother Nobles.

"There... there is no precedent for an alliance with outsiders." One said at last.

"But neither is there precedent for fighting a foe such as this." The other answered.

"New tactics for new foes, is that what you are saying?"

Vaahn shot a glance at the speaker, who found the courage to stand under the gaze. He drew a long breath and answered. "I believe this is best."

Slowly, Vaahn rose to his feet. "This enemy, this 'Starfleet', seeks to destroy us. We will find no mercy at their hands. My father told me stories of them, for when I was but a pup he faced their colonial expedition. Even their Thrall-ships were armed and armoured as ships of war. He faced a single battleship, and its might was such that it wiped out House Pyren's fleet before being overwhelmed." He circled the table, letting his words sink in. Each Lord, great and small, shared a common fear of having their glorious Households cast down into nothing.

"We have come a long way, my friends. Our ships are faster, stronger and more potent than those my father took to battle. However, it would be foolish to assume our enemy had not grown in strength as well. We must assume Starfleet has always known the war was coming. We must assume they have prepared far more than we have." He completed a circuit of the table and gripped the back of his faded leather chair. "Brothers, we need this alliance."

One by one, the Lords and Nobles voiced their agreement. Qyyrl rose to his feet, nodding in thanks to Noble Vaahn. "With your leave, I will make the arrangements."

"You have it." Vaahn answered. "In one week, the ships of Yvenik make for the Jukoran Gulf. Make sure our allies are ready."

His guests filed away in ones and twos, lost in their own thoughts of how best to make ready for war. Vaahn took a moment to compose himself. Alone now, the pain he kept hidden every day was allowed to rise to the surface. His artificial hand itched; a curse that rose up whenever he was stressed. His right knee, replaced three years ago when his limb became useless, still gave him daily pain. A burst ear drum, skull fractures, shattered ribs and torn blood vessels were the reward of a lifetime of battle, and he was tormented by his wounds daily. With no-one to see, he allowed himself a grunt of pain and tried to massage the ache out of his knee.

Barely a minute later, two figures moved to replace the departed; Jas, Vaahn's oldest friend and lover, and Soua, the beautiful maiden he had claimed as his wife over a decade ago.

"I am afraid, my loves." Vaahn sighed as they sat at the table, Jas to his left and Soua to his right.

"We still have no word from the Wraithblade." Soua told him as calmly as she could manage. Vaahn had a brother and a son aboard that ship, dispatched to join the Royal Armada four months ago.

"I did not expect it to return in time. Jas, did you obtain the vessels for me?"

Jas nodded, handing over sealed letters bearing the royal insignia. "Due to the exceptional circumstances, House Tu'ri has been granted leave to expand her fleet to seven craft. Ide'n is gathering crew as we speak."

"If only we had Taryyk with us still..." Vaahn's words hung heavy in the air. Taryyk had married well, better than Vaahn. Set to join the Royal Guard, he was serving aboard the vessel that made first contact with Starfleet. Taryyk had died in the opening exchange, but his sacrifice, and that of his comrades, had given the Kyyreni vital warning of what was to come.

Soua rose, excusing herself from the table. Vaahn reached for her and promised he would visit her that night, but she smiled and dismissed the offer. "We both know you'd rather be elsewhere."

When the door clicked shut, Vaahn turned to see Jas' blushing face. The Aspatrian was blessed with handsome features that time had left unblemished. Merely looking at the fox gave the Noble a sense of inner calm; to Vaahn, Jas was a symbol of a simpler life he had long since left behind.

"Still alive?" Vaahn asked.

"Yes, and I hope to be for a long time yet." Jas answered with a smile, but Vaahn could see the fear in his eyes and hear the quiver in his voice.

"Jas...I wish things could be different."

Jas smiled and reached for Vaahn's metallic hand. He flinched for just a moment as his paw caressed he cold metal of the false limb. "You are doing what you think is best for the House of Tu'ri. That's all you have ever done. I wonder, though, is this what you want?"

Vaahn let out a long, heavy sigh. "I do not know. I feel so tired, Jas..." he paused to rub his aching eyes. "I find no glory in this life anymore. In truth, I wonder if there was every any glory there at all. Men speak my name in awe and hail me as a hero; women flock the streets in the hope I will bed them when I pass. Answer me this, Jas; if I am so great and glorious a warrior, why am I so weary of the slaughter?"

"Maybe I'm a bad influence?" Jas answered.

Vaahn shook his head, pulling the smaller male onto his lap. The Aspatrian's clothing was as fine as any Noble's garments, fashioned from silks and studded with gemstones. He looked finer than most of the Lords who Vaahn had spoken with just minutes before.

"Never." Vaahn purred. "You have been lazy at times, careless once or twice, a lightweight drinker..." he smirked at how Jas' ears twitched at the comment. "...but never a bad influence. Jas, you have always believed that our ways were wrong. You never believed in the glory of the hunt, the majesty of battle or the heroism born of war. I think, had I listened to you many years ago, we would perhaps be able to ride out this storm. As it is, I see no other course; Starfleet will come to destroy us. All we can do is fight back."

Jas shook his head with earnest. "It is not too late! It is never too late! Don't you see that? If you just tried talking to them, show them you're willing to compromise..."

Vaahn placed a finger on the fox's muzzle. "I cannot. I am too set in my ways. You, however..."

"Oh no!" Jas' eyes widened. "No, you will not drag me off to war to act as some sort of go between!"

"I am not giving you a choice."

Vaahn could see the feeling of betrayal in the Aspatrian's eyes. Jas balled up his hands and bit his lip, ears drooping in sorrow. "Why? Why put me through this?"

"For-"

"-the good of the House, yeah, I guessed." Jas muttered.

"For the good of us all." Vaahn corrected. "I think Starfleet would listen to you. If anyone can convince them, if anyone can save us from this fate, it is you. Please, Jas, be brave for me."

Jas was silent for almost a full minute. Eventually, he turned to look straight into Vaahn's eyes and whispered, "I wish I'd never met you."

"Likewise." Vaahn chuckled, and let his arms slip under the Aspatrian's shirt as their lips met in a soft, tender embrace.

One year later...

The ship was adrift, belching drive plasma from its gutted innards. Decks had twisted and warped under the strain of battle, creating a bizarre parody of a once-proud ship of war. Vaahn left a trail of blood behind him as he crawled on all fours toward his quarters in the midship. The reek of burning flesh drifted up from the Aftward access corridor, and as he passed the half-open door a sudden blast of heat knocked the wind from his lungs. Blackened corpses lay in agonised postures mere inches from salvation. Vaahn couldn't even tell who they were.

His vision was fading. He forced himself upright, sliding across the wall until he reached his chambers and punched the pad on the wall to open it. Inside he found yet more devastation. The deck above had been obliterated, and the room was now mostly twisted metal. Jas lay in the centre of the room, eyes closed with a thin film of blood around his lips.

"Jas?"

Vaahn slumped to his knees. He ran a paw over the fox's chest, feeling the slightest flicker of a heartbeat.

"Jas... I'm so sorry. I'm so, so, sorry..."

He lifted Jas' head and rested it in his lap. He sat there, facing the door and stroking his lover's head. Tears flowed from his working eyes, mixing with dirt and blood to further mar his scarred muzzle. He stared down at the Aspatrian, feeling blades plunge deep into his heart at the thought of losing the fair slave. Vaahn had lost so much; his parents were dead now, along with several of his siblings and countless friends and comrades. Everyone he grew close to in life eventually left him, or betrayed him. Everyone but Jas. Jas had always been there, always loyal, always loving. Jas, now dying in his arms, because he'd insisted on dragging him into a war he wanted no part of.

"I suppose you want the Captain?" Vaahn asked as the door slid open.

"We want your surrender." A voice replied. Vaahn looked up to see a pale skinned creature stood before him. It wore a Starfleet uniform, and two others of its race flanked it. All three had weapons trained on him.

"You don't need those." He said quietly. "I... I don't have anything to fight for anymore."

"Get up." The Starfleet officer ordered. Vaahn shook his head.

"No. I won't leave him. Not now. Kill me or let me die with my ship, with him."

The Officer and his crew looked at each other. He turned off his Universal Translator to speak in his own language for some time before addressing Vaahn again.

"We will send a medical team. We may be able to save the both of you."

Vaahn nodded, running a hand through the Aspatrian's head fur once more. "Still alive, Jas?"

Jas did not reply. The shaking of the vessel grew more intense. There was a blurb of panicked transmission to the Starfleet officer, and the last thing Vaahn remembered was his cry of alarm.

"Bridge! Emergency beam out! Five to beam directly to sick bay!"

And his world became a blinding flash of light.