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The Wolf Hunters

Episode

10

The Cortrian

By

Lutrian

ver. 3.05

The V'Nari syndicate. Some of us call them the Animalkind. Being the ultimate hedonists with no constraint, and seemingly lacking in empathy, they seek out other species to use, abuse, rape, eat, enslave, torture or any combination of the above. The mongoose-like Cortrians form the backbone of the V'Nari syndicate, and are the most numerous species, encountered. Bandits, raccoon-like creatures, tend to be less aggressive, though are no less dangerous, and typically help build and maintain their starships. The giant opossum-like Demons are agile killers, and tend to act as shock troops, but seem, thankfully, to be somewhat rare. There is also the tribal M'Khara, a species I've thankfully have never encountered. There is a rumor that a group of M'Khara have obtained a sample of the Terran rabies virus, and has been working in a number of clandestine labs to modify it. The intention is supposedly to create a self-limiting infection that can induce a state of permanent brain-damaged blood lust in an individual, to create the ultimate soldier. The thought of a ship full of psychotic half-crazed permanently rabid Animalkind sent a shudder down my spine.

Almost all the V'Nari I've encountered, have been the occasional, isolated, Cortrian or Bandit, crew member of a Zephenidian vessel. There was also that one time Jake, Scot, and I, had to fight a Demon in a Zephenidian engine room, which was one of the most harrowing experiences of my life.

I've never actually wanted to meet a member of the V'Nari Syndicate while unarmed, and especially never wanted to find myself trapped in a small filthy room with one. Now my utter fear and horror were fully realized. As I stood in the near darkness, with the shadowy shape sitting on an old mattress in front of me, the realization that one of my worst nightmares was now being realized, filled my mind with total horror. With rustle, the head turned to face me. Faintly glowing eyes gazed at me from the darkness. There was nothing I could do, but hope for the best. Would the creature's depression and rage cause it to kill me rapidly, or would I face hours of torture. I took a deep breath and held still, waiting for the end to come.

The Creature didn't move, but watched me. As I cautiously took another step in the dark dingy room, I gritted my teeth and held my arms at the ready. If the Cortrian planed on raping and sodomizing me, while eating my face off, I was going to try to make sure he would have to kill me outright. Another step, I continued to hold my arms at the ready, maintaining a defensive stance. The shadowy shape turned away, reached under a filthy pillow, and draw out a flat rectangular object. Light issued from the screen, illuminating the dingy room, as well as the creature's muzzled face. His ears were perked forward as he watched the screen. He turned back and regarded me with reddish-brown eyes. "Sit."

I froze where I stood, totally dumbfounded. The creature turned back and looked at the screen again, drawing his clawed finger over the display a few times. I slowly took another step, then looked down at the floor.

"Sit next to me." said the Cortrian. "I have something to show you."

I was totally unprepared by the creature's surprisingly genial manner. This was not what I was expecting. After a good moment or two of silence, I managed to utter, "Ah, you're not going to kill, and rape me?"

"Not yet," He said very casually, before turning to face me, again. The Cortrian looked a bit like Rikki Tikki Tavi from an old cartoon I remembered from when I was a child, though far larger, and far more manacling. "Come here. I won't touch you....yet."

The whole "yet" part was beginning to creep me out a bit. Though after a few moments, I dd cautiously approach the old worn out mattress, where the mongoose-like alien sat.

"Sit." urged the creature. "I won't bite, at least not yet."

"Khaznar," I said, trying to pronounce the name Motrician captain had called him, earlier. "Ah, stop saying 'yet', please." I demanded. "You're creeping me out, here."

"But 'yet' is very important. It keeps my options open, you see." The Cortrian gave a toothy grin, showing his gleaming white canine teeth. "Please sit down."

With my heart pounding, I slowly sat down on the old saggy mattress, next to the creature. A cloud of mildew dust wafted up around me. "Ah, you have a mate, if I recall. She also lives in this squalor?"

"No," he answered. "Chiznara has her own quarters on desk one. I'm not allowed there." He pushed the tablet towards me. "Take a look."

Glancing at the display, I saw a panel which showed a view of space, and another window with a set of concentric lines, a schematic of a planet, and a couple of pulsing blips. The display did look like some kind of navigational display, or more likely a tactical readout of the immediate area. "What is this?" I asked the Cortrian.

"I have a lot of time in this dark rat hole of a storage compartment." The creature moved another window into focus, displaying a tapered hull desk plan, with red and green icons flashing in various points. "I've been hacking into the ship's systems, all the low security systems, as well as most of the moderately sensitive ones. Outside view, scanner data, ship status. I can look at anything, though I can't actually do anything major. I'd need full root access in order to me to take control of any major system on this vessel." He pressed another button, and the deck plan returned before splitting into five separate plans, each of different sizes and of slightly different shapes. About a dozen dots slowly moved about the vessel, four of which were on the second image, near the apex of the tapered end. "This is the crew. Twelve are left on a ship that should have over thirty. Four are currently on the bridge. Three more are currently in engineering. Of course, two of them, sitting in a storage compartment on deck three, you and me, aren't even part of the crew."

I started feeling a bit sorry for the Cortrian. "Why did you even end up on this ship."

"Chiznara asked me to come." He looked down into his lap. "No malice on her part. She didn't know I'd be treated like this. I want out."

I began to suspect why he hadn't attacked me. "You ah, want out, as in escape?"

"Actually, I want to die." he mumbled. "Escape, maybe. But I don't care enough if I live. If you want to help me, I will help you."

I felt that this seemed far too convenient. Khaznar seemed too eager to help, as well as too eager to die. There was obviously some catch to this. Was he going to betray me in some way? This was the only opportunity thus far, and I knew I wasn't going to survive to see another one. "So what's the plan?"

"I'm still working on it." Khaznar looked at the screen, again. "Your ship will be in line of sight, soon. I don't know if they plan a micro-jump, or engage in a burn of their sublights. It does mean that they'll be here soon. I will need to get you to an outer compartment, so your people can disable our transfer damper with a restraining beam, and get you out."

"I don't want my people to risk this," I told the disheveled looking mongoose. "If they locked a tractor beam, they'd have to remain relatively still while modulating it, which means they'd be vulnerable to weapon fire."

I expected him to be insistent on this course of action, which would suggest he intended to render the Sabre vulnerable. Instead, he brought up another schematic of the engine room layout. "What happens in the event of a catastrophic breach of the hyperdrive's containment vessel, or the fuel tank is compromised and about to explode?"

"Eject the hyperdrive, like I did a couple of hours ago on my own ship," I answered.

"Actually," the Cortrian turned to face me. "The entire disengagement of the entire engineering deck. Eject everything, hyperdrive, fuel tank, shield generators, munitions storage. This is only done to save the crew at all costs, but it effectively cripples the vessel.

I was very skeptical of this plan. It did seem way too involved. The security protocols needed to pull this off would be way outside the league for someone who was basically treated as a prisoner. "Wait, I got an idea." I remembered hearing a story about a kid on pre-contact Earth who shot up the engine room of a Zephenidian vessel, which practically destroyed the ship. "Escape pod, but create a distraction by shooting out the hyperdrive, or shoot holes in the fuel tank? Blow that shit up, it should turn the entire engineering deck inside-out."

"Many of the systems are shielded with protective energy barriers. Niquentorian technology," answered the Cortrian. "There are a lot of gaps in the shields, though, due to the damage you inflicted earlier. We'd need to get hold of weapons, for either of our plans." The Cortrian checked a window on the tablet, and tapped on the screen. A red icon began to flash green. He tapped it again, and it turned red again. "I do have access to the munitions lockers, but I don't know."

"You seem less than totally sure," I observed.

"Any weapon we seized could be turned off by ship security. This means we'd have to move quickly, and hope that the rest of the crew is too distracted by the impending battle, or too inexperienced. There are a vast number of variables, here." He set the tablet aside. "Now, in order for me to help you, you must help me."

"Of course," I nodded. "We need each other's help to pull this off."

Khaznar looked down at his lap, and appeared to sigh. "That wasn't what I was getting at. Something a bit more, shall we say, primal."

I was afraid things were going to head in that direction. "You said that you wanted out as well, possibly to die. What more do you want?"

"I desire one bit of pleasure, before we kill ourselves in the escape attempt. He shifted towards me, and reached a hand to grasp my arm. "I need to rape you. Don't worry. Though I bite, I won't attempt to injure you."

I recoiled and tried to pull away. "No, no you don't. I'll kill you, or make you kill me. I'm not going to let you torture me."

He lunged across the bed and pushed me onto my back, against the musty mattress. "You do this for me. Do this for me, and we'll help each other." He growled.

I tried to struggle under him, but despite his thin build, he was still stronger than me. "Look, look, ah," I thought of an idea. "Any way for us to, maybe do something that won't result in me risking being hurt or killed? I.. I don't know your anatomy, how hard you'd pile into me, I don't see any signs you keep any kind of viable lubricant here. Ah, what if I was to ah, just hold your penis, like masturbate you, so you don't have to penetrate me. I don't know how rough you guys get, and if you did have sexual lubricant in this squalor, I wouldn't trust it to be sanitary. Or, ah..."

The creature stared down at me and seemed lost in thought for a moment. "You're afraid of me, aren't you?"

"Yes." I whispered. "Very afraid."

He brought his face down, close to mine. "You have reason to be. We're a species of killers. We're used to taking what we want, when we want, and from whom we want. Right now, you are mine. If you cooperate, I will help you."

Looking up at his face with the matted and tangled fur of his mane, and the spots of what appeared to be mange, made me worry about possibly catching diseases or parasites from him. His breath was also not particularly pleasant, either. "What do you want me to do?" I said as my heart pounded.

He reached for my left hand, and guided it to his sheath. "I don't need you at attempt oral on me. Your mouth appears to be a bit too cramped and toothy, and we don't have the luxury of time for us to work on technique. Just hold my penis, or push me between your thighs. I may bite you, but I will not hurt you, especially if you relax, and don't try to pull away."

As I gripped the creature's sheath, he held himself over me, and gently rocked. "Why is this so important to you?" I asked the Cortrian.

The creature looked down into my eyes. "I don't intend to survive. A little sex before I die." He brought a hand under my chin and gently stroked my neck. "I will take care of you, if you want."

I continued to work on him, slowly drawing back his sheath. His penis was not as large as I thought it would be. The skin was moist, and was covered with small rough bumps. The member was somewhat tapered, a bit like a large version of a feline's penis, though it lacked the spines. I felt his warm, slick, but slightly rough, tongue, lapping at my cheek. Changing my grip to my right hand, I worked at his member, bringing it further out of its sheath. His was a bit thinner than my own, and slightly shorter. As I continued to stroke the length, he began to gently buck his hips, sliding his member through my hand.

He was panting at my face. His hot breath stunk of neglect, though it was a bit milder than the breath of the Motrician Captain. As I continued to strok him, he gave my nose a lick, then began gently gnawing of my chin. A small amount of fluid began to dribble on my hand, as he humped harder. With a growl, he roughly grabbed my entire mouth in his jaws, startling me, though I continued to work on him. After a few moments as I continued to work on him, he relaxed his grip, and slipped his tongue between my lips. I had definitely spoiled myself over the years with numerous individuals with decent oral hygiene. The Cortrian was definitely close to my limit. His tongue was only a bit rougher than my own, with the slickness and the viscosity of his saliva helping mitigate any roughness. The taste was a mixed bag, of bad teeth flavor, with a hint of carrion.

With a shuddering spasm, the Cortrian sent a wave of watery liquid onto my belly and chest. He froze, and tensed up, as several more spurts of semen washed over my abdomen, filling my naval in a pool of watery goo. After a moment, he withdrew his tongue from my mouth. Slowly, I released my grip on his penis.

"Thank you," he said softly. He gazed at me, then glanced at the tablet. Turning back to me, he grinned toothily, as he dabbed at the mess of semen all over my belly, with a finger, and slowly rubbed it on my erect penis. "Yours is funny, the sheath is on the ti--" An alarm sounded. With a start, he bolted across the mattress, to the tablet, and peered at the image. Turning towards me, he pointed out a tiny green dot, which was circled in red, which moved and grew on the screen. It flashed, and turned into tiny speck. "Your people are here! It's time."

I sat up, and felt rivulets of sticky liquid run down my belly into my pubic hair. "Okay, I'm as ready as yo--"

He turned, and pushed me back down on the bed. "You're not done."

"But time?" I asked.

The Motrician was panting, and hyperventilating. "Relax, concentrate." He flexed his jaws a bit. "I've not done this before, so bear with me."

"What haven't you--" I muttered.

He opened his jaws so wide, he probably could have swallowed my fist whole, and dove straight down on my penis with his open jaws. The warm slick sensation completely engulfed my member in a way I've never experienced before. His throat seemed to close down around it, as he gagged, and choked slightly, but didn't let up. The ship's alarm continued to scream, but I willed myself to ignore it for the moment. I felt myself spasm from the onslaught of sensations. Within a minute, I felt my testicles force feed this mongoose the juices from my trouser-snake. After my orgasmic quiver subsided, he lifted his head, gulping and gasping. "We must go, now." He grabbed the tablet, and moved something with his finger. "Munition locker six unlocked."

"I thought you weren't allowed out of your quarters," I said.

"They'll be too busy," the Cortrian got to his feet, and grabbed my arm. "Come on."

I got to my feet, and headed to the door. "I hope my trust in you is well placed."

The Cortrian placed his hand on the panel, and the door slid open. "If your people do board, and you see them, run to them. Don't worry about me. If you want to save me, don't take any unnecessary risks." We entered the corridor, and turned right. "Keep in mind. We have a crap plan. If we see a better opportunity, we should take it." We hurried down the corridor to a T-intersection. The wall ahead had a locker about a meter square. Khaznar slid the door of the locker aside. Inside were four slots, each with a pistol inside. The Cortrian pulled one of the pistols from its holder, and thrust it into my hand, before grabbing another for himself, while still holding his tablet under his arm. "Don't fire it, until you need it. I don't know how many shots we'll get before they shut our weapons down remotely."

I took the heavy pistol, and started to holster it, before realizing that I had no holster, nor any form of clothing whatsoever. "So, what next?"

"Right passage. Ladder way to the engineering catwalk." The mongoose darted towards a hatchway on the floor at the end of the right passageway. He knelt down, and unlatched the cover, then lifted it onto its hinge. "Let me lead. Follow."

The Cortrian backed down the ladder, and once he was far enough below me, I grabbed the rungs, and began descending. The shaft was dark at first, then I emerged into an immense room, with the looming fuel tank behind and below me. Looking down, I could see a mass of catwalks, and further below, the floor of the engineering deck.

"What's our target?" I asked.

"There's a panel near the rear of the engine room, that will allow us to initiate the ejection sequence.." He reached a landing on a catwalk, then stepped away from the ladder to allow me to step onto the grate. "This will blow the aft bulkheads and disengage the deck plates, sending us, and the contents of the engineering deck into space. Your ship should be able to collect you once you're outside the transfer damper. Come." We clanked along the metal suspension, with the floor over ten meters below us. "We'll take the ladder that runs down the conduits that feed the hyperdrive. This will give us some cover. He stopped near a tangle of hoses, then backed down the ladder. I followed him, trying to hurry as best as I could, without slipping. Within a few moments, he jumped onto the floor, and urged. "They're coming. Hurry!"

"Who's coming!" I yelled, as I jumped onto the deck. The diminutive hyperdrive was nearby, humming as orange-pink plasma pulsed through its glass tube.

"The S'gra****." the Cortrian yelled.

"The Demon?" I half asked, half screamed.

A creature, nearly three meters tall stormed towards us. Its narrow pointed possum-muzzle opened wide with a snarl. It's eyes were large dark, and slanted, and its large ears were drawn back in a fit of rage. Its head mane was a wild tangle of blue-gray fur. It's body was lean and muscular, with a furred tail, tipped with a plume. In the previous encounter with a Demon, my team had boarded a Zephenidian vessel, and were securing it. The creature attacked while Jake, Scot, and I, were trapped in the Zephenidian engine room. I had to hide behind, around, and under the ship's hyperdrive, while taking potshots at it with my blaster. By the time it was dead, I realized, to my horror, that I had defecated my pants due to the stress and fear. Now, was a much more harrowing situation, since there was no huge bulky hyperdrive to get in the creature's way. Noticing a bank of partially burnt out equipment, I dove towards it, yelling "Khaznar, over here!"

I pushed my back against the panel, as the Cortrian joined me, panting. "There are crates over to the left, and a console near the back wall. We need to go there."

The Demon darted around the hyperdrive, and caught sight of me. I raised my weapon and fired. A blue-white beam issued from the gun, which I slowly swept towards the creature. It dove behind the hyperdrive, as my beam impacted the hyperdrive, flaring and blooming half a meter short of the drive. I released the trigger, cutting off the beam.

"This way, behind the crates," urged the mongoose, as he ditched the tablet near the bank of equipment, then ducked, and hurried to a large stack of storage containers.

I took his lead, ducked, and half ran, half crawled, to cover. I tried not to breathe too loudly, as I caught my breath. There was a rustle around the hyperdrive, as I heard padded footsteps on the other side of the crate.

Suddenly, the lean gray figure charged around the crates. Both I and Khaznar opened fire, but the creature leaped onto of the stack of crates, jumped onto the bank of controls, then clambered up a ladder that was almost too thin for it to comfortably ascend.

"That's why I hate them," I panted. "They're huge but fucking agile as fuck." The lights turned red, as an alarm blared. "Dammit!"

"This way," Khaznar pointed urgently. "Next stack, then the console. Now!"

We crouched and rushed behind another stack of cargo, and after a moment, ran to a large free-standing console near the back wall. Khaznar wheeled around. "We're too out in the open. Try to cover me."

The deck lurched, as a bright flash blazed from the ceiling. A section of catwalk snapped from the fuel tank and tumbled to the deck with a loud clang. "What the hell?"

The Cortrian was rapidly imputing data on a keyboard beneath a large monitor. He glanced up and looked at me. "I think that's your ship. The battle has begun." He turned back and continued to work. The floor shuddered again.

"Where's that creature. Where did that fucking demon go?" I said under my breath, as I wheeled around.

The console buzzed. "I'm locked out!" yelled the Cortrian. "Chuthnu, I'm locked out! I need an access code."

"Hurry, or I'm going to start shooting at shit," I warned. "God Dammit." From the side, came a snarl, as a Motrician wearing a tool belt and a vest, charged around the stack of crates, stopped and drew her weapon. Instinctively, I wheeled around and fired. My weapon still worked, as the beam tore into her weapon arm, burning through flesh, muscle, and bone. With a horrible shriek, she spun, and fell, clutching her arm, as the weapon spun from her hand and clattered on the desk. "Khaznar, I think I got your access code."

The Cortrian turned and looked at me, then the Motrician who was struggling to get to her feet while waling in pain. A section of her arm, just above her elbow, was little more than badly charred bone. "You're going to--"

Not sure why my weapon remained active, other then due to the crew being too busy with the engagement with the Sabre, I pointed my weapon at the Motrician, and fried her left foot to overcooked jerky. Howling while rocking back and forth on her haunches, she cried out. "Stop! Stop!" She curled her tail tightly against her side. "You said something about wanting the access code. Fine!"

From above, a commotion caught my attention, as I swung my weapon up, to catch the Demon shimmying down a section of partially fallen catwalk, above the stack of crates. I fired, sending a lance of plasma in its direction. The creature leaped away, though its tail was hit, catching fire. The Demon issued a piercing shriek.

The Motrician cried out in pain, "Please end this! The code, the code is, R-7-L-8-blakhnar, tylgar, malfar, chanara."

"Did you get that?" I asked Khaznar,

The Cortrian turned to me with a blank expression. "I, didn't."

Suddenly, I remembered that the Cortrian had no mindlink translator, and glancing at the Motrician, she wasn't wearing one, either. Neither could understand each other. "Okay, okay, gotta remember. Ah, R-7-L-8, ah, ah, dammit!" I looked at the Motrician. "Okay, repeat."

She growled and spat. "I told you!"

"Tell me again, god-fucking dammit!" I squeezed the trigger, turning her remaining hand into caramelized meat. The smell of cooked flesh in the air was horrifyingly horrible, but this was nothing compared to the horror I felt in my own heart at what I was doing. I was torturing someone in the most brutal and horrible way imaginable. I was desperate to survive, to get out of this nightmare, but what I felt I had to do, made me feel downright sick.

She was wailing and crying. The demon charged around the other side of the console. Forcing myself to turn away from the stricken Motrician, I fired, sending the stream of ionized death lancing against another set of storage creates. The Demon circled around, as I fired a few more times, keeping it at bay. It bounded away, again.

The Cortrian turned to me. "That's, ah, I didn't know Chuthnu could be so.... You would make a good Cortrian."

Just the thought of this made me shudder. This was not the kind of complement I wanted. "You are aware that your mate is probably going to die as well."

"She'll join me in the hereafter," Khaznar whispered. "I don't want this, but I have to."

The Motrician engineer was gasping, " R-7-L-8-blakhnar, tylgar, malfar, chanara. R-7-L-8-blakhnar, tylgar, malfar, chanara."

I called out the code to the Cortrian. R-7-L-8, ah, ah. Alien words. Ah." I tried my best. "blakhnar, tylgar, malfar, chanara."

Another Motrician raced along the starboard side of the deck, screaming. Hearing the jewelry jingle, and seeing her typical olive-trimmed brown knee-length shorts, I knew it was Captain Izsharrr, herself. She stopped, and gazed at her severely injured engineer. "Apeling. Stupid Ape! What the **** are you doing to my crew."

I brandished the weapon and fired. "Fuck off, bitch!" I screamed. The blast impacted the wall just centimeters from her, as she turned back, and fled into the door of the starboard cargo hold.

"I got it." said the Cortrian. "Just press this here," he motioned towards a red pulsing symbol on the screen, "And the entire engineering deck will--"

A large tapered muzzle grabbed Khaznar by the head. He screamed, as the Demon dragged the Cortrian away from the console by his head, while thrashing its head from side to side. The Cortian's weapon flew from his hand. Droplets of blood spotted the floor, and nearby crates.

Instinctively, I fired, sending a blue-white lance of plasma past the creature's head. Khaznar continued to scream as the large creature continued to bite down on him. With a gasp, the Cotrian yelled, "Hit the console!" I swore I could hear bones crack, before the Demon flung the mangled creature against the port bulkhead. It crouched, appearing poised to leap onto the Cortrian to finish him off. With a squeeze of the trigger, the column of ionized death speared the creature in the face. With a horrible wail, the alien reeled back, clawing the exposed sinus cavities of the charred ruin of its face.

Gasping as I realized I has wasted far too much time, I charged at the console. Balling mu fist, I swung at the pulsing symbol on the screen with all my might. I tried to catch myself, fearing it could break the display, or my hand. Everything felt like it was in slow motion as my fist neared the red pulsing alien symbol. It was as if time had nearly stopped, as I cried out. "Checkmate, mother fuckers!"

My hand impacted the screen with a thud, sending searing pain up my arm. I gripped my hand as I fell back, screaming, fearing I might have broken my wrist. At first, nothing appeared to happen, which caused extreme concern to well up in me. "No, No. No! Come on!"

A loud clicking sounded to my left, from the aft wall, as panels around its periphery began to disengage. Suddenly, the entire aft wall exploded outward, tumbling away into the black void, sending a blast of roaring wind, which slammed me into the console. Reacting, almost out of instinct, I blew out as much of the air in my lungs as I could. The wind battered me, fiercely, momentarily pinning me against the console. I pivoted my body around it, than dove towards the inky blackness, aided by the subsiding blast of escaping air. The floor began to shudder, as it began to separate from the subfloor. The entire deck shifted as tiny explosions rippled along the supports that held the fuel tank in place. Gravity abruptly failed, sending me flailing in a tumble into the void. As I fought to stabilize my spin, I glanced back, watching as the ship appeared to vomit the contents of its engine room from its stern. Floor sections, various consoles, the banks of equipment, the cylindrical shield generator chambers, and the hyperdrive on the end of its long shaft, poured from the wreckage of the Motrician vessel. The huge cylindrical fuel tank tore its way through another section of the hull, above the main breach, slowly turning, as gray-blue sprays of deuterium spewed from numerous small ruptures dotting its surface.

As I watched, I became acutely aware of the deathly silence, punctuated by the pounding of my heart. My skin was beginning to tingle, and my fingers grew numb. I tried to gasp, and choke, but there was nothing to breathe. My mouth and eyes began to tingle, and freeze. Squinting to protect my eyes from drying out or freezing, I glanced around, and saw the Sabre of Justice closing rapidly, with streams of orange-yellow plasma from its leading edge, tearing across the hull of the Motrician vessel. A volley of three blue-white flares emerged from a small port at the underside of the _Sabre's_forward hull. My vision grew dark, as felt my mind slipping into darkness.

* * * *

Gasping for breath, I lay on my back, huffing and puffing, as my mouth and eyes felt dry and half frozen. My left hand throbbed in pain, and my arms and fingers appeared puffy and red. I gasped again, and rolled into my side on the glass floor, coughing and sputtering, fearing that my lungs had turned to bloody slush.

Furred clawed hands grasped my shoulders and pulled me off the teleport pad, along the floor to a nearby free standing console. A few stacks of crates near the far wall revealed that we were in a cargo hold. Jurrukush nuzzled the back of my neck. Other hands, human hands, grasped my arms, as I was helped to my feet. I gasped and choked again, as I leaned on the teleport console for support. Looking around, I saw Carl standing at the console, and Daryl was standing at my side, with Jurrukush behind me. Tears began to flow in my eyes as I cried out. "You're safe! I'm safe! Thanks! Thanks!"

Carl turned to me. "We should get you to the infirmary. You look like shit."

I fought to shake the cobwebs out of my mind. "I, I think I'm fine. How bad are we hurt?" I asked.

Carl responded, "We got some people in the infirmary, but looks like we didn't lose anyone."

"And the cats," I asked.

"When we saw their engineering deck being scuttled," answered Carl, "The captain ordered Scot to hit them with a full volley. Their whole ship is space junk, now."

"So has Captain Benson's recovered?"

"He's out of his coma, but still in the infirmary." Carl reached the door to the cargo hold, and it slid open. Let's get to the bridge."

Daryl and Jurrukush had been quiet, before Daryl finally uttered, "What happened to you on that cat ship?"

"The most harrowing few hours I've ever experienced," I answered. "The V'Nari were pretty much running the show."

"Oh fuck!" cursed Daryl. "I'm surprised you lived."

As we climbed the ladder-way, Daryl was below me, with Jurrukush at the rear. Looking down, I said, "I almost died several times. I got threatened with torture and death, flirted with, threatened with rape, flirted with, threatened with having my face eaten off, flirted with. Really really fucked up situation."

"I probably would have died," said Daryl. "Or worse."

"You," I responded, "Probably worse. Then I met a friendly Cortrian who helped me, in exchange for sex. Then he gave his life to help me escape." I sighed. "I almost feel sorry for the Motricians, and..." Reaching the top deck, we started down the corridor. "So trans-con is destroyed?"

Carl answered, "Yes. But doesn't really matter, with the loss of the_Blade_. Does mean we have to go down to the cargo hold to use the transporter. Not sure if it's worth repairing Trans-Con."

The door to the bridge parted. Karen stood at her console, since there was no chair. A jagged shaft jutted from the floor, where he chair used to be. The chair had apparently been torn from the floor and jammed into the large hull breach on the rear right wall. All the space around the chair was covered in an irregular mass of hardened sealant. Scot sat at the weapon console. The navigation console stood empty. The walls of the bridge appeared scarred, banged up, and dotted with several other smaller hull breaches with pools of congealed sealant inside and around them. Carl motioned towards the empty navigation console. "I'll give you the honors of taking us out."

As I approached my old console for the first time in nearly a week, I almost didn't notice the captain's chair.

The captain's seat was partially burned, with a structural beam sticking out of the ceiling above it. Then I noticed the captain.

Nakhara reclined in Captain Benson's seat, where she turned to regard me, while wearing a mindlink translator, but was otherwise unclothed. "Welcome aboard, friend."

For a moment, I thought I might have sustained some kind of brain injury from my time exposed to vacuum. I stammered. "It's a joke. Ah, a prank."

Carl stepped towards me, and smiled. "She saved us."

"Nakhara?" I asked, as I turned to her. "I was told not to trust you. Thank you."

"Remember, Chuthnu-friend." responded Nakhara, "Not very long ago, I was a killer. I was a member of the Establishment. I needed to show you, and everyone else, that I'm not your enemy."

Karen turned and chuckled. "When the cats attacked, your friend left the crew deck without permission, and charged into the bridge. She asked if she could help, and I tried to tell her to leave. Then the bridge got beached. She held the door open and pulled everyone to safety, then got trapped. I thought she died. We headed down to engineering to maintain whatever control we could as the ship was practically falling apart. Found out that she ripped my chair out and jammed it into the breach, before passing out, while the bridge repressurized. Then after that, she was running around the ship, looking for good deeds, lifting heavy junk off one man, helping secure and evacuate another section. Art, I'm sorry about my feelings towards Jurrukush and Nakhara. I, ah, I think if it wasn't for her, we'd all be dead."

I was still somewhat baffled. "How, ah how did all this, ah, she become captain?"

Karen answered, "As you were leading the Motricians on a chase in the gas giant's atmosphere, Captain Benson regained consciousness, and asked for a status update. Dr. Costello told him about Nakhara's heroics. He asked for her to be brought to the infirmary, then assigned her to be acting captain. We feared that the captain wasn't exactly competent with this decision. Later, once back on the bridge, she attempted to communicate with the Motricians as we began our engagement. They hesitated, and asked us to wait, since they wanted to find out if she was worth a bounty. We decided to let them have it."

I turned to Nakhara. "Thank you again. Thank you very very much."

She grinned toothily. "You owe me. You owe me a night, like you promised."

"Do keep in mind, I was half-way raped by a Cortrian about twenty minutes ago. I need a little time to recover."

"Chuthnu-friend, you survived a Cortrian rape?" Nakhara seemed almost shocked.

Everyone else on the bridge were staring at me. "The Cortrian made a sort of arrangement with me." I explained. "Some coercion, I guess, so technically it could be considered rape, or just being overly pushy. But he helped me in the end. Pity, he died. Fucking Demon chewed his head off. I was actually starting to like him. Okay, should add Cortrian to my list of species I've fucked."

An alarm sounded. Scott pressed a few buttons on his console. We've got a security breach. Intruder on deck two, galley." Scot got to his feet and bolted out the door.

I yelled, "Stop, the captain needs to, oh fuck!"

"What the hell?" asked Carl as he walked to the rear of the bridge.

Remembering that the Motrician captain ran through the door of the cargo hold on her shop, I began to realize the full gravity of the situation. "The fucking cat, Captain Izsharrr is here. I think she transported here during the confusion of the attack. Remember, Niquentorian transporters can go through our dampers like tissue paper."

"Fuck," cursed Carl.

Daryl sighed.

Karen stared at me.

"I'm going after Scot. Wish me luck." I said.

"Chuthnu, be cautious," advised Nakhara.

I turned and hurried through the door of the bridge. As I headed to the right passage to the ladder-well, I reached a box, slid it open, and pulled a PPG-P370-A from the open locker. The small snub-nosed weapon fit easily in my hand, which was convenient, since I was still naked. Climbing down the ladder to the deck below, I raced to the intersection, and rushed down the right-hand corridor. Passing doors and passageways on either side, I held the weapon out, and switched it on, before disengaging the safety. The weapon whined as the capacitors charged. I heard a commotion ahead, as I charged through the door to the galley, weapon drawn.