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The Wolf Hunters

Episode

7

Oubliette

Part 2

By

Lutrian

ver. 3.06

"Something got in here! Who fucking did this," Jerrard cried out.

The room was poorly lit. The augment system on my suit was still operating, resulting in a grainy greenish view. At the left wall, was a huge open closet with several standard spacesuits, though all were modified to include separate respirators which were worn inside the helmets. Next to the spacesuit closet, were three huge tanks, each almost three meters tall, each marked with "He." "O2," and the third one, separated from the others had the letters "Kr" on it. Between the helium and oxygen tanks, and the krypton gas tank, was a intricate console, with pressure gauges, which was obviously the console used to fill the suit tanks.

At the far end of the room, was a door which had had been burned through, much like the airlock doors. Miscellaneous small hand tools, and junk, covered the floor. There was a faint whining buzz from the doorway, sounding like straining machinery. Glancing at my helmet display, I noticed that the temperature was at 105 degrees kelvin. "There's still power, and heat. What's that noise?"

Jerrard slowly stepped over to the door. "I think, ah, it's probably the life support system straining to work. I think it's the pumps and heaters, and shit."

"Would make sense," I nodded. "It's still trying to make the facility habitable despite someone having left the front door open." I glanced around the room at the piles of tools and debris, noticing the absence of corpses. "No bodies here. We need to decide if we should go further inside, considering we probably have, what, maybe ten minutes left, before we freeze inside our suits."

"Jerrard stepped through the door, and gave a yelp of surprise. "Careful stepping through the door. The gravity systems seem to be working." The man continued further into the room, ahead. His suit light was playing over the floor and doorway. "It gets warmer, it's about one hundred and twenty kelvin in here. If it gets up to one hundred and forty or so, the suits heating systems will be able to maintain temperature indefinitely."

"Aye," I said, as I followed Jerrard though the wreckage of the door. There was a strange feeling of dizziness, as the suit suddenly felt significantly lighter. "Okay, this is better." I sighed. The green grainy view cleared, and the helmet's HUD displayed a "Visual Augment System Off," message. Much of the door, was a twisted and burnt mass of mangled metal, which was clinging to the side of the doorway, appearing as if it had been peeled away.

I stood inside a large, curved corridor, which seemed to form a large ring. There were several widely spaced doorways on the outer concave wall, all destroyed. Ahead of us, was a large gaping hole leading into the central room. Sections of the floor were missing, leaving large gaps of exposed conduits, wires, and sub-floor, underneath. Square panels about a meter wide, and about a quarter of a meter thick, were stacked two or three apiece, near the gaps, each with a thick bundle of cable emerging from its edge. Looking back, my suit's light hit a solid bank of white fog which billowed around the doorway.

Jerrard looked at the floor panels. "I guess they haven't fully installed all the artificial gravity generators, yet." He turned to face a large gaping hole in the curved wall, ahead of us. "The power generator and life support system is through that... what used to be a door."

I was still somewhat unnerved by the lack of bodies. The air inside my suit was rather chilly, but the temperature seemed to be stabilizing. As I entered the central room, the temperature on my helmet display read one-hundred and eighty-five kelvin.

The room was large, and had a two-meter wide column, running from the ground, to the high vaulted ceiling, covered in control panels. A ladder ran from the floor, up the column to a series of catwalks, overhead. Another structure, towards the back, was a large toroid furnace-looking device, though it lacked any openings, and was also covered with numerous control panels. I walked over to series of status screens on the shaft, and glanced over at the displays, while cautiously pressing a few buttons. "I don't know much about geothermal plants, but." Looking at one of the displays, the geothermal generator appeared to use ammonia to run the turbines, using the planet's heat to drive the process, and a heat exchanger on the roof to cool and liquefy the ammonia, for recirculation down the main shaft. The geothermal plant appeared to be operating at thirty percent of capacity. A large gash was visible in the side of the column, covered in frost and ice, which covered the floor, around it, making footing treacherous. "Two of the three main upflow pipes are damaged. The system did seal them from the rest of the unit. The downflow column still works, and it's still running one of the turbines." I tried to access more data on the display, but the screen began to flutter before going dark. "Shit!"

Jerrard was examining another bank of displays on the shaft. "You may need your friend to fix this."

"If there's anything to fix," I corrected him. "This place is fucked. I'm not bringing him here, unless we can find a way to seal the place and make it habitable, and if anyone's still alive, here." I trundled to the console near the second generator, and pressed a promising button. The consoles came to life. I brushed some frost from one of the screens, and checked the status. Everything looked good. "Your deuterium reactor appears fully operational. I can start it up, now? Would provide more power and more heat to the facility."

"No!" yelled Jerrard. "The base will be detectable."

"I don't think it matters, now." I checked a few nearby consoles, noting many cracked and damaged screens, and indicators. "If there's anyone hiding here, I think we'd be evacuating them back to the ship. As I said, this place is fucked."

"Oh no! Trr'varr, Trr'var."

The name "Trr'var" didn't register in my mind, as I continued to examine the consoles of the nearby life support system. Most of the lights were red, and a few were amber and blinking. The main monitor next to the console, displayed a stylized skull and crossbones, which flashed on and off, likely the system's way of telling any corpses, nearby, that the facility couldn't support life. I turned to where Jerrard was, and saw him kneeling next to a gray-blue furred form,

"Trr'varr!" cried Jerrard again, as he knelt by the frost and ice covered alien body.

It was a dead Lutrian or Chakharan, having been frozen, when the base was breached. The Lutrian's body was large and otter-like, with a tapered tail about two-thirds of a meter long, a whiskered muzzle face, small rounded ears, and a slim, almost curvy build. The creature's fur would probably be gray-brown, to almost black-brown, in life, but that was impossible to see now that the creature was covered in frost, mostly water ice, though it might have been spattered with ammonia ice, as well, from when the geothermal generator ruptured. "A friend?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "And our top scientist." Jerrard reached his gloved hand to the creature's face, and brushed some of the frost from its whiskers, and face. "He was a good friend. Not sexual. Ah, I mean, I know they love to screw. We had that ah, understanding. He knew who was game, and who wasn't."

I looked around the room, but there was no other bodies. "No humans," I said, as I walked around the edge of the room. Something on the floor caught my attention, in a corner, by one of the consoles. I reached down and grabbed the small cylindrical object, and gently worked it out of the ice, where it was embedded. As I held it to the faceplate of my helmet, I realized that it was a human finger, which appeared to have snapped off of someone, probably when he or she fell, after being flash-frozen. "Where's the rest of him?"

Jerrard was still sulking over the dead Lutrian. "He was, ah, it was his work that made Dark Dominion. He had a lot of his own equipment, that he brought here. Nanotech, retrovirals, microscopes, submicron cutters, that kind of stuff. He knew what he was doing, and taught us a geat deal in the process. Good sense of humor as well."

"I found a human finger, but no human body. I don't like this, either. Jerrard, hold yourself together. Where are the station logs? We need to know what happened."

Jerrard slowly got to his feet. "The command room is at the far end of the corridor in the administration area. The labs are in the cell block beyond." He looked back down at the body of his friend, and appeared to try to brush a tear from his face, but his helmet's faceplate was in the way. After a moment, still lamenting, he turned towards me. "Okay, follow me."

I cautiously followed Jerrard through the corridor, being mindful of the areas of missing floor and non-functional artificial gravity generators. Like the previous rooms, the lighting was dim, with our helmet headlamps providing most of the illumination. At the far end of the corridor, was the gaping remains of another destroyed door. I cautiously followed Jerrard through the doorway.

In the middle of the room was a large semi-circular, enclosed control panel, with a space on either side to provide access. More consoles covered the left and right wall, as well as the wall behind the console. On the back wall, to the right of the console, was the wreckage of a large vault-like door. Above the console, was alien script, which I could not read. However, I recognized it as modern Zephenidian script.

" Trr'varr helped us re-purpose these consoles. Human and Lutrian computer hardware, interfaced to Zephenidian video displays, and other cobbled together shit. It's kinda a mess."

"Still no human bodies." I observed, as I gazed around the room. After retrieving my scanner from my pocket, I waved it in a long arc to check for movement, or any signs of life. Nothing.

My suit radio beeped. "Carl to Art, do you copy?"

"Yes." I responded. "Someone trashed the base, burned through all their doors. The interior here is exposed to the planet. We found a dead Lutrian in the power room, and a human finger, but no human bodies."

"How are your suits holding up?" asked Carl.

I checked my helmet display. "It's one-hundred and forty-eight degrees kelvin here, so we're not in immediate danger. Suit oxygen reserves are at three and a half hours. No need to bring Daryl down here. Someone fucked this place up."

"Didn't you suspect that something like this, probably happened?" asked Carl.

"Yeah. I hate being right," I responded. "Just going to access the logs, complete my investigation, try to find survivors, then we'll be heading home."

"Just don't do anything foolish."

"Speaking of which," I said. "If you and Daryl could scan the wreckage, and surrounding space, see if you can find the ship's logs. Maybe they launched a log buoy, or maybe there's some intact computer junk, something that can be taken aboard."

"I'll see what we can do," answered Carl. "I don't plan on doing any EVAs, especially since I'm the only one currently on board with any zero-g and spacesuit training. Maybe Jurrukush, but we don't have a spacesuit that fits him, unless his suit's still in the hold, where he left it."

"We've got a lot of work to do. I'll let you know when we're ready to return."

"Aye. Same here."

"Well.... time to continue our investigation. Art out." I said

After the communicator clicked off, I brought my PortaScan unit up and captured the images of the Zephenidian text, then ran the built in translation. It took a few moments before the text appeared on the small screen of the unit. "Forgotten Dungeon."

"Oubliette? Jerrard, the fucking Zephs called this place, Oubliette."

"Yeah, I know," answered Jerrard. "I was with the group about five years ago, when we were scanning for planets to set up our base. We stumbled onto this planet. After deciding that building a base would be unfeasible, one of the guys detected a transport damper still in operation. We geared up, transported to the surface, and figured out the airlock controls, after burning through a huge pile of Zephenidian corpses. We expected resistance, pirates, Zephs, anything. The air was foul, and the whole place was filled with more Zeph bodies, mostly skeletons and piles of old fur. Checking the computer, it was obvious that this was a Zephenidian prison run by Prukak's Claw, a place to dump dissidents back during their Khash'ik Kooph purges about two-hundred and sixty or so years ago. Apparently, about thirty years ago the Zephenidian government just, ah, forgot about the place, on purpose, probably, maybe due to humans settling too close to this planet. Prisoners and staff were left to starve to death. The airlock was filled with a big pile of frozen corpses, probably the prisoners, killed to allow supplies to last longer. Cleaning the place out was long and arduous. Even with the bodies gone, the air never smelled particularly pleasant."

"They forgot about them," I mumbled. "Oubliette. I'd really love to know more of the history of this place. What you told me, just...just. Sounds like they wanted this place to be a death trap."

"This isn't an archeology study," reminded Jerrard. "Damn, trying to find a terminal that still works, here. Half the screens are cracked."

I glanced at the wreckage of the door, behind the console. "What's in the cell block area?"

"Don't go in there!," said Jerrard. It's our laboratory. Classified."

"Don't pull the whole classified shit on me. Finding survivors, and finding out what happened, here, takes precedence." I stepped across the treacherous wreckage, avoiding a particularly sharp, serrated, piece of door poking out of the doorway. "Remember, we need to find your people, or what happened to them," I shouted, as I entered the room beyond.

The room was a large cell block, with barred prison cells stacked two stories in a grid-like maze. Lab tables were set up haphazardly in the corridors, and even in some of the open cells. Shelves with test tubes, beakers, most of which were broken and strewn about, ran along almost every wall. There were numerous computer terminals on many of the lab tables, interfaced to various types of microscopes, and other laboratory equipment. Stairways provided access to the cells in the upper level. As made my way along one of the tables, I saw many shattered jars, with the formaldehyde preserved specimen frozen in a block of preservative. On the same table, I saw a frozen body of an unidentifiable animal, about the size and shape of a human infant. The longer I looked at it, the more I realized, it was indeed a human infant, with cat-like ears, and a half-muzzle for a face.

"Jerrard, what the fuck, what the fuck are you people doing!" I screamed through my suit radio. The infant looked like it was allowed to go to term. A large incision in its abdomen, along with the fact its heart, lungs, and abdominal organs, were missing, suggested either an autopsy, or worse, a dissection, occurred. "Jerrard, what are you breeding here." I heard the shuffle of boots behind me, and I turned to see the glare of Jerrard's helmet light. I pointed to the body, "What are you fuckers doing?"

Jerrard stuttered, "You're not suppos, ah supposed, fuck. It's," He seemed lost for words for a few moments. "Look, you know that there are some mixed species couples, like some Human-Lutrian couples. You know that they can't have children in the normal way, no matter how much they fuck. We're ah, we're working on hybrids. Facilitated interspecies breeding. We've still not gotten it to properly work. We're getting there, though they still come out with metabolic errors, birth defects, stuff like that."

I glared at his face, through the helmet, and lowered my voice. "There is a reason that this kind of shit is illegal. There is a reason there are supposed to be ethics in science. What did you people do, used one of your own female staff to bring this poor thing to term, to watch it die in agony, because the DNA and protein sequencing didn't work right? Look, I understand and can sympathize with the idea you're trying to do, but shit!. You're creating things that just can't ah, live long. How much waste of life will it take to get this working right? How many more full term babies will you bring into this world, just to kill, in the name of science."

Jerrard remained silent for a moment, then he mumbled, "I'm not one of the people who actually worked on this. I.... I did know about this, but my job was elsewhere, going from planet to planet, peddling the procedures we can already do fairly reliably. This is our recent stuff. We want to help interspecies couples have children!"

"I understand your goal," I said, somewhat sympathetically. "But... It would be one thing if you stopped the development before it developed anything resembling a brain. This thing went to term, god dammit."

Jerrard didn't have an actual response to my lecture. After a few moments, I decided to move on, examining the lab tables as I walked deeper into the cell block. There were more jars, some broken, others more or less intact. Most of the jars contained mere tissue samples, other jars had what appeared to be organs, and a few jars had fetuses in various stages of development as well as various morphologies. Another full term, or nearly full term disaster was laying in a small, oval, plastic tub, in translucent reddish-brown ice. This was appeared severely malformed, with twisted limbs, and organs outside its body, as well as a small naked tail. "This is macabre, really macabre."

After passing a number of laboratory workspaces, I approached a closed cell that contained a frozen wolfish body. It wasn't obvious if the Zephenidian died when the base was overrun, or if it was brought here as a corpse. However, I suspected former, and that Jerrard had lied, earlier. There were a number of cells, further in, that contained more frozen Zephenidian corpses. After a few more empty cells, I saw one containing a strip of flesh overred in orange-brown fur. An arm was attached, with a clawed hand. Part of the creature's calf was laying on the floor of the cell. Jerrard attempted to keep up since I was moving rather quickly despite the bulk of the suit.

Part of the cell door was missing as well. A section of the metal, up to about three meters high, appeared to have simply vanished, at some point. Whatever the creature was, most of the rest of it, had also apparently disappeared. I stepped into the cell and approached the mangled body parts. There was a shiny medallion on the floor, next to the wall. I lowered myself to the floor and cautiously picked it up, as Jerrard reached the cell's door. I noticed that he was nervously eying the medallion, as I held it up for inspection.

The medallion was a circle consisting of three snakes intertwined with each other. There was something familiar with the symbol, but at first, its significance escaped me. I moved it further away from my eyes, then it hit me, since I never noticed the snakes, before. It was the symbol for the Zynarrkus Mrr'Uk, the very Motricians we were dealing with. Everything started to fall in place, in my mind, as I turned to Jerrard. "You stupid fuck! Your people abducted one of the cats. What were you thinking?"

"I, ah, this is classified shit!" shouted Jerrard.

"Did you get access to the logs? Did you get access to the fucking logs?"

"No, I was too busy trying to follow you and..."

I flashed the symbol in front of his helmet. "That is the medallion of these fucking cats who are on a rampage across the galaxy. How did you fucking end up abducting this, this--"

"I...., I think we got her from a Zephenidian ship. She was serving with them. She was, ah... Ah, we need to get back to the administration room to access the logs."

"What were you thinking!" I shouted. "God dammit, people have died because of this."

Jerrard stuttered again, "Ah...we need to get back to the administration area to access the logs. Maybe we'll know what happened. This is not my fault. Not much I could do. I wasn't even here when this happened."

I stepped out of the cell, and followed Jerrard back towards the cell block's entrance as things continued to fall into place in my mind. "I think the cats... They tried to rescue her, but botched the transport. Maybe she was moving around too much. Parts of her was outside the field when she was transported. Don't know how your snap field would work on the Niquentorian teleport system, they use. But whatever the case, they probably wound up with a screaming, mangled, fucked up crew member, who got clipped by their own teleport field. I'm sure they were pissed, furious in fact.

We reached the administration area. Jerrard entered the console suite, and accessed a terminal using a Terran keyboard, which was attached by spliced wire, which lead through a recess in the console. "I think I got it. Last entry dated June 8th, 2153. That can't be right."

A man with reddish blond hair, was yelling urgently, "They're coming. They've breached the airlock and they're coming. They're in spacesuits. They're."

"Commander Peirce, they're in the ring," shouted a voice from off screen."

I turned to Jerrard. "Pierce? Is that the old Captain of my ship?"

"Yeah," nodded Jerrard. "After retiring from the Wolf Hunters, he decided to join our venture."

The view swung around as a jet of flames and sparks spattered around the room from the door. "They're cutting through the door. Oh my god, they're cutting the fucking door." Flames erupted around the edge of the door, along with loud explosions, as white fog poured from the doorway. Pierce returned to the view brandishing a rifle, just as the door tore open, sending a blast of flames at the camera. Piece screamed as he was momentarily wreathed in fire, before stiffly falling against the console, with a rime of frost forming on his skin. Three spacesuited figures stormed through the door, brandishing pistols, with a forth one pulling a yellow-orange machine about the size of a portable electrical generator. There was a long coiled hose attached to the front of the machine with a nozzle with a hand-grip and trigger on the end. The image faded, just as I noticed the Caterpillar logo on the base unit.

"Fuck, that's a heavy fusion cutter. Federation issue." I gasped. "You can cut a spacecraft in half with that thing."

Jerrard lowered his head. "This is... this...."

"Okay, go back," I instructed Jerrard. "First entry of that day, or first entry of this crisis, if you can find it."

Peirce appeared on the screen. "Dark Dominion Log, June 8, 2153, 0330 hours. A vessel has entered orbit. We're shutting down nonessential systems, reducing our power signature, but we're still getting that sporadic h-wave pulse, that we can't seem to localize. We've not scanned the vessel, as to not be detected. They appear to be scanning the planet, though." The screen faded, then returned. "Dark Dominion Log, June 8, 2153, 0620. They took the Motrician specimen. We traced the h-wave pulse to the mortician specimen. Two of our men attempted to subdue her, so we can find and remove the device, but this strange teleport took most of the specimen, leaving her arm, some ribs, some of her leg, and a few of the bars of the cell. Our snap field did not engage. Trr'varr suggests that it was a Niquentorian signature. However our scans now reveal only a heavily modified Zephenidian Killerdeath class vessel. Trr'varr and our engineer are currently modifying the snap field to be able to detect the Niquentorian signature. Don't know if it will work. I heard that the Niquentorians can beam through most of the transporter dampening fields we use." The image faded for as moment, then returned. "Dark Dominion Log, June 8, 2153, 0920, Got the fuckers, seven of the bastards! They attempted to transport into the back of the cell block area, and the snap field engaged. They almost made it, but it failed. The screaming was horrible. They'll definitely think twice about coming here, again."

"Oh my god," I turned to Jerrard as the horrible realization of the full scenario fully played in my head. "I think I know what comes next."

Jerrard lowered his head again as the next entry played. " Dark Dominion Log, June 8, 2153, 1237. Got a report, a small landing party has just materialized outside the facility. We're getting everyone prepped and armed. Just, we're not prepared for this kind of siege. I think we're in trouble. Big trouble. If.... If... if someone finds this log.... my wife, my sons, I love you. I'm sorry I couldn't send you any message or even communicate, to keep our base hidden. I'm sorry I was unable to return home for their birthdays. I don't have time, they're coming. Oh my god, they're coming!"

Jerrard peered at the screen. "The last entry follows, which we saw earlier. There's nothing. There's nothing for me, here. Nothing."

"We need to look for survivors." I said as I tried to encourage him.

Jerrard sighed again. According to the automated security log, they ah, they returned on the 14th. Dammit, can't get any images, just scanner logs of teleports and the movement of, ah, spacesuited creatures. These cameras weren't made for these kinds of conditions. But, I think for some reason, they, the Motricians, came back."

I sighed. "They came back to get the bodies, when they received new orders and new bounties, I suspect. Your hospital ship probably arrived after they received a distress call, and was here when the cats got arrived for the second time. Dammit!"

Jerrard slowly walked out from the console area, appearing dazed, or horrified. "This is... this, they're all gone!"

"I'm sorry." I said. "I'm sorry about what happened."

"You knew they were dead!" he shouted. "You fucking wanted them to be dead, so you could get out of here, and, ah, bed down with your little Asian twink and his wolf boyfriend!"

"You're losing it!" I stepped out from behind the console. "We need to get the system logs downloaded, and we need to get out of here. Now!"

"What's the point," said Jerrard, as he reached a small wall mounted locker. He opened the locker's door, and removed a black shiny pistol.

"What are you doing!" I shouted as I slowly approached him.

He spun around, as fast as his bulky suit would allow him, and he leveled the blaster at my chest. "There's nothing for me, here. There's nothing for me to live, for!"

"Put down the gun!" I shouted. "Put it down, and let's get out of here!"

"No! We sit here, and let our air run out. The cats are coming back. Might as well let them have their fun."

"God dammit, Jerrard! Stop this, stop this now."

"The fucking cat they took. It must have had a hidden micro-transmitter." Jerrard's voice was shaking, as he continued to brandish the gun. "Probably hidden in one of its teeth. Niquentorian tech. Those fucking cats are clever. They're clever, always one step ahead of us. Two more corpses they can pick up here, plus your crew in orbit. Let them have their bounty! Let them have their fun!"

Remembering the extreme conditions that the weapon was subjected to, when the room was breached, I became less than convinced that the gun would fire. "The weapon is junk, Jerrard. The cold and pressure probably destroyed it."

He waved the gun frantically. "Want to take your chances, alien fucker piece of shit! It's over. We die here!"

"Yesterday, you mentioned something about returning to the Federation, and going legit, if the Animalkind took over the Zephs, or something." I tried to reason with him. "You said you'd return home and try a more legit trade."

Jerrard continued to brandish the weapon, menacingly. "I was assuming at least most of my friends here would still be alive. They're all dead, and the fucking cats came back to eat them, or sell the corpses to the Zephs." He swung the gun towards the doorway, and he squeezed the trigger. Nothing. Jarrard squeezed the trigger again, then shook the gun. "What the fuck's wrong with this thing!"

"We need to get out of here," I pleaded with him. "Let's go!"

"Never!" He lunged, or rather, lurched, at me, like something out of an old bad science fiction movie. I moved out of his way, and pushed him as he attempted to grab at my suit. Hand to hand combat in spacesuits is always extremely dangerous. At least these suits lacked exposed hoses which could be grabbed or pulled. But still, I knew that this situation could turn downright lethal. One hole could jet super-cold cryogenic gas into the suit. With the amount of hydrogen in the atmosphere, one spark could turn the inside of the suit into a furnace.

Jerrard wheeled around in front of the console, and glared at me through his helmet faceplate. "We're not getting out of here."

I did not want to fight him, since I feared I'd be forced to kill him. "You don't want to do this. Let's get back outside so we can return to the ship."

My suit's radio beeped, and the system automatically answered it. Carl's voice burst from the speaker. "Art, do you copy!"

"Get a transporter lock on me, but do not engage till I'm outside and clear of the facility's snap field."

"What's going on?" Carl asked.

Jerrard had retreated to the door leading into the cell block, and was attempting to pull and twist a jagged piece of metal from the door frame. "I'm about to be killed." I turned and lumbered from the administrative room, into the circular hallway. Looking back, Jerrard has attempting to pursue me with what looked like a piece or rebar, about a meter and a half long, which ended with a piece of torn, and partially melted, sheet metal.

Suddenly, I tripped, and fell hard, face first, onto the floor. The faceplate of my helmet cracked loudly against the floor, and my whole head felt like I was ringing like a bell. "Fuck!" I screamed, as I realized I had stepped on one of the dead zones on the floor, where the station's artificial gravity wasn't working, and had fallen hard, with the full force of the planet's gravity. I struggled to my feet, and was relieved that my helmet hadn't cracked. Jerrard was closing in fast, with the jagged metal pole raised, ready to strike.

I grabbed Jerrards arms and grappled with him, keeping the sharp pole of death away from my suit. With a twist, I pulled him into the dead zone, which caught him unprepared, making him fall hard on his back.

Using the time this had bought me, I rushed as fast as I could manage, towards the door to the airlock. As I pushed myself through the door, into the room with the spacesuits, and loose equipment, I remembered to brace myself for the full force of the planet's gravity, which made my knees buckle slightly. Catching my breath, I plunged into the opaque wall of fog which obscured the airlock door. The view flashed and became grainy, as the suit's visual augment system snapped on. I cleared the first door of the airlock, and rushed past the wreckage of the vault-like outer door of the facility, onto the frozen landscape, beyond. I was panting as the weight of the suit in the planet's high gravity was finally exhausting me. Turning back, I saw Jerrard struggling in the planet's gravity, still wielding the rebar, as he desperately charged at me.

As I reached the area that I had originally materialized, I felt my legs give out, and I fell face first onto the frozen ground. My arms began to, almost immediately, become numb, as my body felt like it was about to turn to ice. Shivering, and seeing the light of Jerrard's helmet lamp around me, I cried out, "Carl, get me out of here, now!"

There was a flash, and crack, like something was struck, which I feared might be my suit, but then I saw the blue-green field, and heard the hum of transport. Gravity slowly waned, and shifted orientation, as I realized I was now standing in the _Blade of Truth'_s airlock. The ground that came up with me crumbled away, as I sagged to my knees, shivering and chattering inside my suit. Carl's voice called in through my suit radio. "Clear the pad, I'm locking onto Jerrard."

Glancing to my left, I saw that the airlock door was open to space. "Carl, Jerrard is armed with big piece of metal. He's trying to kill me." I shivered as I tried to explain the situation.

The airlock door began to close, as Carl sighed. "Once you're in, I'll bring Jerrard up, and we'll make him stand down, before we let him out of the airlock."

"Forget him," I said, as the door sealed, and I heard air hissing as the airlock was pressurized. As the pressure gaugeon the inner door's console approached normal, I gave my helmet a quick turn, with my hands, and lifted it from my head, feeling the warm air driving the chill from my face. The inner door slid aside. I exited the airlock. Carl immediately worked the console, which closed the airlock door again, and began to cycle the airlock. "Forget him, Carl."

"Look," said Carl, "I know you're the captain here, but we're not murderers. If he assaulted you, that's a matter for the police."

"Fine," I sighed. "Get him up, put him under heavy guard, and let's get the hell home."

Carl peered at the scanner. "He entered the facility, again." Carl turned to me, then glanced down the corridor to where Daryl sat at the cockpit. Jurrukush was standing behind him, giving him a back massage. "Someone, try to contact Jerrard. Tell him to return to the transport site."

I struggled to unseal the chest piece of the suit, with the backpack unit, before Carl helped me lift it over my head and off of me. Once I was free of the more unwieldy part of the suit, I hurried to the cockpit. Daryl was already attempting to raise Jerrard.

Daryl had already shifted to the right-hand seat, frantically working the console. "Daryl to Jerrard. Do you copy? Daryl to Jerrard, do you copy?"

The voice finally cracked through the speaker. "I.... Ah, I can't get the helmet off." There was the sound of something banging repeatedly, then what sounded like a struggle. "I can't get the... How do you get this thing off."

I spoke at the console, "You tell me. You're more familiar with these suits than I am. You probably can't unless the pressure inside and out are equalized." Daryl shifted to the left seat, as I took the right seat, to continue my attempt to console Jerrard. "Return to the ship. You'll be okay. Just sand down, and return to the ship!"

"Ah," Daryl was checking a screen. "Ah, there's a neutrino surge from the facility. Jerrard is in that circular room in the middle. Is that the power room?"

"What the fuck are you doing," I screamed into the communications' system.

"I'm going nuclear!" yelled Jerrard. "Goodbye!"

Daryl turned to me with a grim expression. "He.... Ah, I think he's overloading the fusion generator."

"Balls!" I screamed. "Jerrard, stand down. Stand down at once." I looked back at Daryl, then down the corridor to where Carl stood at the airlock. "I care more about the archaeology and forensics of this facility, then Jerrard, and he's going to blow it up!"

Carl called from the airlock door, "Should I?"

"Should you wha," I started, before I realized what Carl meant. I got to my feet and charged down the cooridor, shouting, "It will kill him, and make a fucking mess. But it will stop the detonation. Take as much of the reactor with him."

Carl frantically worked the console next to the airlock. The hum began to sound from below decks, as a green-blow glow appeared at the airlock window. I reached the airlock, just as the field began to waver, and flutter. "The snap field engaged, we're losing him!"

I looked through the window of the airlock, and watched Jerrard's form, along with part of a bank of consoles that was within the field, with him. The translucent shimmering forms waverd, shifted, and fluttered. Jerrard's form turned towards me, his mouth open in what might have been a scream, as he raised his arms. The field suddenly fluttered again, then died, leaving a blue-green silhouette, which flashed a near white. There was a loud pop inside the airlock, and the window was suddenly turned opaque with a rust-red aersolized material. "Like Jake," I sighed. I sagged down to my knees. In my mind, I saw Jake's form die on the teleport pad of the Sabre of Justice, exploding in a blast of aerosolized blood. This guy wasn't Jake. This guy was a criminal who had attempted to kill me, just minutes before. This guy was someone I never wanted to ask out on a date. I had no attraction to this man, but still, he died like Jake. He died by having his teleportation field yanked out from under him, just like Jake. But he wasn't Jake, but still, it was hard, watching.

"Are you all right?" asked Carl.

I struggled to my feet as I nodded. "That, ah, brought back memories. Ah, sorry."

"I understand," said Carl. "Ah, we need to get underway as soon as the hyperdrive charges. I think the snap field totally discharged the drive."

I nodded again. "Yeah, let's get going."

As I returned to the cockpit, Daryl checked a screen. "The neutrino surge is gone, but, ah, you ah, killed him. I... I didn't like the guy. But..."

"He wasn't going to let us take him alive," I explained as I sat down in the right seat. I noticed that Jurruksh seemed lost in thought.

"The cats?" asked Daryl.

Carl made his way back to the cockpit, and stood behind my seat.

"They took a Motrician hostage, one from the same house or Mrr'Uk as the cats we're dealing with," I explained. "They came here and killed everyone before they even met us, before that chase, last month. Then they came back a while later to retrieve the human bodies, once the Zephs gave them the bounty orders."

"Art," Daryl sounded a bit concerned. "They're increasing speed. The cats are increasing speed. They're at 5000 times light speed, now, and they're heading to the Ik'narr system. They're going after the Sabre."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yes, positive," said Daryl. "We're gonna have to fight them, I know it."

"The planet's defense platform should help." I turned to the console and activated the communications' system, and set the right parameters and frequency. "Blade of Truth to Sabre of Justice, do you copy?"

"Captain Matthew Benson here. Art, how's the mission going?"

"They're all dead, captain," I said. "Jerrard wouldn't come and tried to blow up the base. While trying to save him, he died from a.... a security protocol set by his own people."

"Dammit," yelled the captain.

"The cats!" I yelled. "They... the Dark Dominion may have set them off. They held one prisoner and it died when the Motricians tried to rescue her. They, ah, they killed a bunch of Motricians with the base's snap field, and... they pissed the cats off. I'm surprised they were trying to negotiate with us, despite this. None of this makes sense, though in some ways it does. And the cats are now after you."

"That's.... that's.... Dammit!"

"You can activate all your long range scanners and we can turn on our ID. There's nothing left. We're not getting paid any more than what Jerrard already paid us."

"Ah," said the captain. "I was afraid of that. No one left for me to pay the balance of my ship loan, to, either, but. Dammit!"

"As soon as we charge our drive, we're going to be underway," I explained. "We get back, dock, and we jump from the system, and head back to civilization. In fact, you probably should hang near the planet's defense platform, for when the cats arrive in the system."

"Aye," he said. "And I can tell, you're going to make a great successor to me. A great one."

"Thanks. And Captain, you and your crew, hold tight. We'll be on our way home, soon. Art out."

Jurrukush turned to face me. "I can tell that you are under a lot of stress, friend. I am frightened as well. I wish there was more that I could do to help. Not much for me to do since I don't have anyone to guard anymore."

I thought for a moment. "You could help with morale," I suggested. "You have a good heart. You've won over the entire crew. Everyone likes you. Though Jerrard is now a layer of freeze-dried acellular goo on the airlock walls, helping with morale is no less important."

"I'm honored to accept this role," said Jurrukush. "This duty is no less important."

I turned back to Daryl. "Were you able to find any signs of a log buoy or anything, which might provide insight on what happened to that ship?"

"Ah, negative," said Daryl. "I think it burned on entry, or the cats got it, maybe used it as target practice. The base is still there. Get some forensics people out here."

"Yeah, definitely."

* * * *

It took over an hour to fully charge the hyperdrive. The time was spent working on a report to send to the FSA, regarding the Dark Dominion, and their facility on the planet. Once the report was transmitted, and the drive was fully charged, we prepared for our trip back to the_Sabre of Justice_. I had Daryl pilot the ship during the jump to hyperspace, like before. As we accelerated, Daryl seemed uneasy. As we reached our cruising speed of 1800c, Daryl sighed. "We're not going to make it in time. The cats are going to beat us by an hour or more. Should we push her? Can we get more speed?"

"I don't know," I responded. "I've never tried this with this ship." I thought about this for a moment. "How does Sam boost the maximum speed on the Sabre of Justice?"

"Ah," Carl was lost in thought as he stood behind my seat. "I think it's just a matter of setting the hyperdrive's tolerances through the main panel. Carl showed me how to do this, on the Sabre. Don't expect miracles, though." He turned and headed aft, down the corridor.

"Need my help?" I called to him.

"Don't think that would be necessary. If I run into problems, I can call you down. I think I know how to do this. It's just kinda tight quarters down there."

"Okay," I said. "Just don't blow us up."

He slipped down the port stairway into the lower decks. I waited as the minutes ticked on. After a while, Carl emerged from the doorway, near the airlock. "You can try it now, but it will only give us about 1900c at most. Go any higher and I think the engine will crack."

"Better than nothing," I said. "Okay, Daryl get us to 1900c. It may shave about 20 minutes, twenty valuable minutes, maybe more."

Daryl made the adjustments on his console. The hyperdrive began to whine a little, like it was beginning to strain. On the screen, the view was the same mists and swirls rushing past us. The increased velocity was not great enough to be noticeable.

"I think we've done as much as we can," said Carl. Being it's almost one in the morning, we should call it a night."

"I agree." I looked over Daryl's console. "We're going to be arriving at about 5:30-5:40 in the evening the day after tomorrow, er, tomorrow, since it's past midnight." I sighed.

Daryl slowly got to his feet, appearing very pensive.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"DoesIk'narr IIb have only one defense platform?" asked Daryl, nervously. "I thought I remember it having only one."

I thought for a moment. "If I recall, they have one active platform, and two more under construction."

"Their last... ah... borderspatial missile," stammered Daryl. "Their last missile is either going into our ship, or going into that platform. We're going into combat, are we?"

"Try to get some sleep."

"I'm scared." Daryl had that appearance of a trapped animal about to be turned into a fur coat. "We're going to die."

"Daryl, we're not going to die." I promised. If we lose the Sabre, I'm going to take the ship to the planet, to the colony. They're going to have to deal with about two thousand pissed off colonists to get at us, not to mention that a number of Federation ships are on their way. So if we're on that planet, under siege, we could probably make it."

"Thanks," said Daryl. "Ah, just don't let them get Jurrukush, or any of us."

"We'll be safe," I tried to assure him, but I was not convinced myself. "Come on, let's try to get some sleep. I don't know how well we'd be able to sleep tomorrow night, so best to get as much sleep while we can. Make tonight count."

"Aye." Daryl nodded.

"In fact, we probably should sleep in tomorrow. I'm expecting us to be too on edge to sleep well, tomorrow night."

Looking back, Carl was nowhere to be seen, presumably he had already retired to his room. "I think I'm going to shower, first. Tomorrow's and especially tomorrow night, things are going to be extremely busy. I can't lie to you, Daryl. I think we are going to be fighting the cats."

Daryl sighed, and began to shiver. Jurrukush, who had been relatively quiet, took Daryl into his arms and lightly nibbled his neck. Daryl sniffled, and seemed on the verge of crying.

"Daryl," I tried to assure him. "I will do whatever I can to make sure you and Jurrukush are safe. I promise."

Daryl sniffled again, and gave a forced smile, as Jurrukush continued to hold him in a long embrace.

* * * *

After the shower, and after I chewed on my bite-brush to clean my teeth, I entered the sleeping quarters. Daryl was laying in Jurrukush's arms, as the wolfish alien worked at comforting the frightened young man. I was partially naked, wearing nothing except my boxers, as I sat down on my bed, and watched. "Light's out." I called to the computer. The lights dimmed, with the psychedelic illumination from the viewport providing a kaleidoscope of color.

I stretched out in my bed, and watched Jurrukush as he cradled Daryl, caressing his chest and occasional reaching down and giving his nose and lips a quick lick. After a few minutes, Daryl slowly sat up, and seemed to whisper something in Jurrukush's ear. Obviously this was an old habit, since Jurrukush's mindlink translator would make such whispering, unnecessary. What was whispered, I could not tell, but this did elicit a toothy grin from Jurrukush, before he lowered Daryl onto the bed.

Jurrukush's fur seemed to glow with iridescence in the intermittent light shining through the viewport, as he massaged Daryl's back for a moment, then slowly reached down to switch off his translator, before removing the belt, and the headband, and setting them on a shelf next to the viewport. He stood near the bed, looking down at Daryl, who appeared to be dozing, then turned in my direction, locking his gaze on me. I thought about averting my gaze to try to hide the fact that I was watching him, but I knew it was already too late. For a moment, he eyed me, then he brushed his mane back with his hands, raised his head, jaws agape, then he raised his tail aloft, striking a pose. It looked like he was in going to howl, but he remained silent. His form was striking, in the subdued lighting. His mane flowed from his head, half way down his back, with his tail slowly waging back and forth. The fur which hung from his arms almost gave the appearance of wings. He turned back towards me, his deep brown eyes seemed to beckon. Though Jurrukush was still standing next to the bed where Daryl slept, it was becoming more clear what Daryl might have whispered to his wolfish boyfriend.

Jurrukush slowly lowered his body onto all fours, which I first found very disconcerting. He did not look like a sentient creature, now, and appeared very feral, as he slowly stalked around the master bed. Jurrukush slowly circled Daryl from the viewport to the head of the bed, then back towards the viewport. The lights played over his fur, causing his shadow to dance around the room. He circled back, a widening circle as he began stalking around my bed. I was nervous. He wasn't wearing his translator, and he was acting like he was a large predator, seeking prey. He stalked around my bed again, this time he brushed against my sheets as he circled the head of my bed. As he came by again, he grabbed the bedsheets in his jaws and pulled them, along with my blankets, from my bed, leaving me abruptly exposed. As he rounded the foot of my bed, he finally made his move.

Without warning, he was on top of me, holding me down, as he nipped at my throat with his jaws, making me wince in near terror. He suddenly froze, while continuing to pin me on the bed. His mane and arm fur flowed from mis body, ticking my chest and belly, intensely. Jurrukush gazed down at me, and I met his gaze. I thought about averting my eyes, but then I realized that he was beckoning me with his stare. There was a sense of feral determination, a predator who has seized onto some new prey. But there was also a sense of kinship in his gaze, a feeling that I was safe. It was like he was conveying a "Don't be afraid." in his gaze, as well as "You are mine for tonight." I realized, now, that he was waiting for my answer.

What would be my answer? My fear was melting, as I knew I was safe. With a raging erection having pushed part-way through the elastic of my boxers, my answer was becoming more clear, as I tried to meet his gaze in the way he met mine. I slowly opened my mouth and closed my eyes. After a moment, I felt his the fur of his mane play along my chest, as his jaws closed around my mouth, and his tongue slid against mine. His saliva was thick, slightly salty, and had a pleasant sweetness and musk to it. This was not overly dissimilar to my experiences with Lutrians, and the subtle differences simply added to this adventure. As he practically tried to swallow my face, I reached my hand out, and ran it along his chest and abdomen. My fingers reached a warm, wet, thick shaft of Zephenidian penus, which I began to cares and stroke. He released my mouth from the insanely passionate kiss, then licked at my neck, slowly following my chest hair down to my member, which had fully pushed itself under the elastic of my boxers, where it had begun to leave a puddle of per-ejaculate fluid just beneath my navel. He lapped at the puddle, then at the head of my penis, causing me to jerk and convulse. I glanced towards the other bed, and noticed that Daryl was not fully asleep, and was in fact watching. As me and Daryl's eyes met, Daryl cracked a smile, then bashfully hid his head under the sheets, though I could tell he was still watching. Suddenly my body jerked as I felt the intense warmth of the wolf's muzzle and the slick saliva enclose my entire length. I thought I was going to come, but then he loosened his grip on my member, ever so slightly, letting me ebb, before increasing the intensity, again. He was toying with me, which was causing me to shake uncontrollably. I was Jurrukush's for the night, and he was making sure I knew this. Just as I felt I was about to release my man juice in an explosion of ecstasy, he released me from his muzzle, then leaped back onto me. With long tongue strokes, he teased my nipples, licked along my neck, then he gently closed his jaws around my throat.