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Rosemary stared at the plate of food the steward had put in front of her, eyeing the slices of pale meat, doughy dumplings and perfectly roasted vegetables with trepidation. She hadn't eaten anything good in a long, long time, having subsided on meagre rations between weeks of starvation just to prolong their stores, and the scent of the meal was making her mouth water. She licked her lips, her nostrils flaring, the hint of flavour tickling at her whiskers. With a defeated sigh, she picked up her knife and fork, holding the golden utensils in a death grip. She so desperately wanted to eat, but terror stayed her hands even as her stomach protested loudly. Embarrassment gnawed at her too. Though Venomspite had been nothing but cordial, if a little terrifying at times, she had no reason to trust any food put before her that wasn't made by her own hand. Not after what the Temlasarians had done to her and her people.

''I assure you, it's not been poisoned.'' He said. He was sitting at the head of the table, opposite her, ''If I wanted you dead, I would go about it in a far more honest and honourable way that would satisfy us both.''

A look of horror crossed her face as her gaze darted up to stare at the regal void elf sitting calmly opposite her. He had already started his meal and his comment had been off-hand. She carefully, quietly felt the very surface of his mind and found no malice there or feelings of subterfuge towards her. He was just curious as to what she was going to do now she was confronted by a full meal. Rosemary reeled her mind in and looked down at the food. She forced her teeth part as she gently speared a honey glazed carrot on the tip of her fork. She nibbled the tip, waited for her formidable constitution to tell her there was something up, and when it didn't, she took a measured bite. It was sweet, crunchy on the outside with a pleasing, soft, fluffy texture at its core. She carefully tried other bits on her plate, waiting for the first signs of poisoning and before she realised it, the plate was clear and she was feeling far better now her hunger pains had been eased. She picked up the tall glass of water she had been given and sniffed it. She took a sip, then a full gulp. Placed the empty glass back on its coaster and eyed Venomspite warily. She actually found herself missing Trillian's presence. She missed Angelica even more. Life without her felt unnatural somehow, almost as if she was missing a limb. It was a deep ache in her heart and her mind was still spinning from the sudden psychic severance. As far removed from his old self Trillian had become, he was still familiar, unlike this slim, black skinned creature who sat before her, delicately dabbing the corners of his thin lips with a snow white napkin. She could just feel Billy's mind at the edge of hers, sedated and sleeping heavily. Meko was still untouchable and Rosemary found she was starting to mourn her death even though she still lived.

''Billy will make a recovery. Meko, we're still not sure. But Mister Spears shall be two to three weeks and no more. He has his mission parameters and I have the utmost faith in his abilities as a sailor and a soldier. As for being a Scav, well... rummaging through junk to sell at auction never really suited him. A warship with a full crew and full magazines suits him better.'' Venomspite said. Rosemary looked a little shocked that he had picked up on her thoughts so easily. She hadn't felt any kind of psychic connection at all. At least, not until she put her entire mental effort into routing out his point of entry. It was right there, a tiny pinprick, unobtrusively loitering at the surface of her mind. It was more empathic than anything she realised and his presence was there as a natural byproduct of his thought processes, ''Are you aware that the GC have sent probes into Thymion space to investigate?''

''No, Sir. I did not. I assume what probes were sent never returned?'' She said, trying her best to keep the exhaustion out of her voice. Now she was full, she was suddenly very tired and wanted nothing more than to sleep.

''Most of them did. You see, no matter how good the sensors technology is, something two feet in length and one foot in width that's made out of scrap tin and plastic with an old recording device glued inside it will never be found unless those sensors know what to look for. I digress somewhat, though... the probes we got back were half dead or dying from old age, but the information collected by them was very enlightening. Coupled with reports from those who are members of the Sterwil Federation and those who simply cruise through their space, Thymion ships have been sighted beyond your territorial boundaries, out in open space, doing their best to terrorize passing passing freighters, passenger liners and the local mercs. Those Thymion ships were warships. Are you aware of this?'' Venomspite asked.

Rosemary nodded, a little dumbfounded by the fact that the GC had managed to get something through into Thymion space and out again without being seen. And something so rudimentary, too. ''I don't know if Billy told you, but those ships are all under Temlasarian control now. They are not to be trusted.'' She stated firmly, fear shining bright in her eyes that such an important piece of knowledge could have been forgotten.

''Oh, they got figured out pretty quick. We're not stupid, you know. We've pulled such tricks ourselves, and that's not just my people, either. You and they don't realise just how much data we have on the situation. You see, what the Tems don't know, and what Thymion doesn't know, is that the GC and all related military vessels have a copy of the sensors readings the Ranger collected. All of its sensors readings. From start to finish. From the Daglia, to the Empress Hand, to the Hope's Blade. From that, it was laughably easy to put together the data required for sniffing out the Tems. By this point, that information has been passed on to every ship in the this quadrant. Speaking of laughable, the Tems did try something wonderfully stupid four months ago; they discovered a Bressis destroyer, all alone and.... injured. Naturally, being the deluded scavengers they are, the Tems tried taking that ship for their own...''

Rosemary felt what was going on in his mind and the dark amusement held her in horrified suspense as he formed his next words carefully, working out how best to explain just what the Bressis had done to the captured Thymion ship.

She found herself leaning on the table, morbid curiosity driving her fatigue to the back of her mind, ''What did they do?'' She asked in a soft whisper.

The only Bressis she had met was Corporal Marsh and his mind had been a scary place to be. It was dark, cloying, sticky like crude oil and he was always hungry for the psychic energy of others. She knew the Bressis was an amorphous species with a powerful psychic inclination of their own and the very thought of the Temlasarians taking on a Bressis warship alone, even with Thymion technology, was intriguing to her for. The Ranger, a lone destroyer destined for the scrap heap had shown her teeth when Billy had hurtled into GC space, ready to tear the place apart. She remembered those initial scans of the old Shadow Stalkers's ship. There had been 24 anti-matter missiles trained on them and the target lock the old ship had gotten on the Hope's Blade was nigh unshakable and its ECMs absurdly difficult to deal with. That was when she knew that it wasn't just the Synths who had the ability to tear apart a Thymion warship. The Ranger, she had realised almost too late, could have easily gone toe-to-toe with the Hope's Blade and would have stood a worryingly good chance of winning the fight. After all, anti-matter consumed everything it touched in explosive fashion and to have that much antimatter at the whim of someone with more starship combat experience than any of them had, left her somewhat shaken. She knew she was good at her job, but the whole combat side of things had never really sank in or felt comfortable. She would much rather be healing than destroying, like so many others of her kin. The fact that the Temlasarians had started to so brazenly attack their neighbors beyond the void should have been astounding. But the Temlasarians were so wrapped up in themselves, so firmly entrenched in their all-consuming belief that they were the rightful heirs to the galaxy and everything in it, it wasn't all that surprising that they had attempted to expand.

They had simply seen a 'stricken' alien warship and automatically saw it as their own. They had been so deep in their zealotry that they didn't know that they were being baited by a ravenous species.

''The Bressis were toying with the Tems. The ship was not damaged. It was a psychically formed illusion, produced and held up by the crew. The Tems got in close and docked with the ship. Then the Bressis's little sisters came out to play. Two frigates; one gun, one sensors. Smaller than corvettes, but ship killers in their own right. One frigate disabled the Tems's drives. The other electronically and psychically stripped it of its senses. The Thymion destroyer was effectively rendered deaf and dumb, and unable to go anywhere or defend herself. At the time this was happening, the Bressis had already flooded - quite literally - the Thymion ship and they feasted on the Tems. When the responding unit got there after receiving the Tems's distress call, all that was left of the Tems was clothing, skeletons and personal weapons. By opening their airlock doors to board the Bressis destroyer, they invited the Bressis in for lunch, leaving their distress beacon unrefined and available for all to hear.''

As Venomspite spoke, Rosemary caught flashes of images from both military and MediaNet reports he had read; the interior of the Thymion warship, unmistakable in its construction and beauty. The black, oily stains marring every inch of that beauty. And skeletons, made fragile from digestion. They were everywhere, sprawled across the deck, piled on top of each other as if they had tried fleeing and others still, were draped over work stations. And most of all, the fleeting vision of personal experience from Venomspite's memory; a wall of living crude oil oozing quickly down the hallway of a space station, absorbing every kind of weapons fire available to the defenders. The memory and images faded, leaving Rosemary feeling ill. The Bressis didn't just feed on psychic energy. They fed on flesh, absorbing their prey and dissolving them. And they did so by merging into one giant, gelatinous mass and shared the food. The Bressis were more than a hive mind and it was terrifying. The Temlasarians never stood a chance once that first airlock was open. The monster had swallowed them whole without effort.

She sucked down a deep, steadying breath, willing her lunch to stay put, ''What happened to our ship?''

''It got towed away by an Undervilde scow that was local at the time and is currently in dry dock at one of our realspace holdings. We bought the Bressis out, since they wanted to keep it as a trophy. I can't tell you where that holding is right now, but I can tell you that, yes, it is being picked over with a fine toothed comb. No, it hasn't been stripped for spares. No, we have no interest in your military technology. It is all something we have ourselves and, I'm afraid to say, quite a lot of it, especially the rift generators, have fallen out of style and have been replaced with much more efficient and powerful variants. I can also tell you that it will remain intact and operational, and safely stowed until further notice.'' He said. He frowned, ''I believe the ship's name is something along the lines of Shield of Light...? Light's Shield? I asked Mister Spears and that was his rough translation of the name.''

Rosemary's heart soared. These people had the Shield of Light, a captured Thymion destroyer and it was operational, to boot. If a little sore, after what Venomspite had said about the Bressis. But that was easily rectified. If she could get her hands on the ship, then she could somehow get her hands on something to repair the drives with... her hope sank a fraction. She had nothing to do such a thing with. Nothing to barter with, except for herself...

''As pleased as I am to hear one of our most decorated ships is safe and sound, I really have nothing to give in exchange for it.'' She sighed. She could really do with the medibay and the communications suite it contained, but knowing there was a price tag on the ship's berth, a sense of hopelessness settled across her once more.

''There is something you can give in exchange.'' Venomspite said. He leaned forward on the table, his elbows braced against the polished amethyst surface. An opportunistic twinkle glittered in the silver pools of his eyes and Rosemary braced herself, dreading what was to come. She really had nothing to offer him except her body, but even that was next to impossible right now, as she was with child, ''Three things, actually,'' He said and she inwardly groaned in dismay, ''One: Un-restricted passage through Thymion Empire space. We travel through the void that lies between the Ethereal Realms and the Astral Planes. Our passage will not disturb you as it lies in a completely different realm to realspace. However, you will also not be able to gain access to these routes, either. Any ship that isn't built by our hand will be torn asunder, its crew given the same treatment. Two: Basic trade. Our race is expanding faster than we can handle right now, which is putting a great deal of pressure on our hydroponic manufacturing facilities. We have the land and it is fertile, but we need some additions to help speed along the growth of foods such as fruits and vegetables without actually taking up that land. And from what Mister Spears has reported, you have considerable hydroponics capabilities. We have a few more basics for trade, but we shall go over those later if things go well. Three: those anomalies the Tems are creating all over the place. I would like permission, once those creatures been rendered to a mere memory, to take some of those smaller anomalies for myself.'' He saw Rosemary's bewildered expression glaze over. Apparently, this was not the exchange she was thinking of, ''We like to use anomalies as waypoints, re-fuelling stations and natural defenses. In return, I am fully prepared to give Thymion one of our Temporal Ansibles along with one of our older DDN types. The Type-2 is not a system we use any longer. It hasn't been in service for over a thousand years, but it is still a viable defense platform.''

Rosemary's glazed expression grew ever more vacant. Even so, he could tell she was still listening, ''That would be a Disruptor Defense Network; a network of small disruptor cannons tied in to a central, defensive platform. It can either be run remotely by setting out the parameters to its A.I or it can be manned by a minimum of four people at a time. Maximum of ten. It is a network of disruptor cannons which can be positioned to defend a planet from every angle, effectively wrapping it in a cage. These cannons are small, however. One will easily vape a single-seater starfighter. For something as big as a frigate and upward, it will easily melt a hole in its hull. A single cannon isn't very effective on its own, but multiple cannons will make short work of most intruders. There will, however, be a small Undervilde squadron in the area, just to make sure no one gets the upper hand and steals the tech. Or to see to it that no one gets carried away with it. Like all weapons, it is incredibly dangerous, so there will be fail safes in place.'' He said. It sounded ominous to her ears, but after how easily the Temlesarians had taken their space stations, it was reasonable at its core, ''The network will not seal you in. The space between gun platforms will allow you to easily fit a Q-Ship through, which will allow you and any allies listed in its system to come and go freely. As for the temporal ansible, you can communicate freely with anyone within and without your Empire's territory. True to its name, a temporal ansible is a large, automated communications platform that runs on a series of harmonic crystals which allows it to transmit all kinds of communications in real time without spatial interference. And it doesn't matter if that ansible is within your borders or just on the outside, either. Maintenance for both the ansible platform and the DDN will be taught over a period of time by some of Undervilde's leading technicians and engineers as they are quite complicated and the crystals they operate with are attuned differently to your own. Yours are more attuned to light whilst ours are more attuned to the dark, if you will.'' He finished.

Rosemary's jaw dropped. As Venomspite was talking, she was catching flashes of the things he was talking about from his mind; a broad net of small weapons platforms, as black as space, anchored around a gas giant in a defensive grid with dark purple ships cruising easily between the weapons unmolested. That was undoubtedly the DDN. The ansible platform looked sleek, like a large ovoid of finely cut and polished red opal. She blinked away the images from her reeling mind. All of that for a ship, some rogue anomalies, some hydroponics units and a few shipping lanes that weren't technically there? It was bizzare to her mind. Highly advanced defense arrays and an unheard of communications platform in exchange for something that was otherwise mundane was something she found difficult to grasp. For such a thing, she was expecting the price to be much higher, such as an entire planet.

''We cannot establish trade of any sort without a home.'' She said softly, speaking the painfully true words that came rushing into her mind on the heels of realisation. She looked down at the table, at the plate that she had fought hard against licking clean in her hunger. She saw Venomspite make a small gesture out of her peripheral and the lights dimmed slightly as a series of holographic star systems bloomed to life a few inches above the surface of the table. She looked straight at it, curious. It was an annotated tactical map of Thymion. She gasped, seeing that the entire Empire had been meticulously mapped from edge to edge, each anomaly tagged, forming a tightly packed cluster of orange spots that almost filled the entire map to its brim. Red dots showed where hostile ships and stations were found, any patrol route marked. Worlds and moons were marked in green. She looked through the holographic image and stared at Venomspite, stunned at what he had gathered, wondering how he had come into possession of such information.

''It may have been a year for us, but a year is plenty enough time to gather intel when you're using disposable sensor drones and have a junk yard full of Thymion registered ships to peruse. My scouts had a great deal of fun surfing those anomalies, too. Along with the vast debris from crushed worlds and natural satellites, it is the perfect killing zone for ambush predators.'' The feral grin was back in the form a quick smirk. ''I would, however like more data before finalizing my plans, which is why I have sent Mister Spears away with a lot of money and a license to seize ships and other assets for me.'' He held up his hand when Rosemary opened her mouth to speak, to point out the time difference. His voice was short, as if speaking down to a child that wouldn't stop repeating the obvious, ''I am aware of the time differences. Do not take me or mine for uneducated fools. We have been at space for far longer than you and yours. You would do well to remember that your space travel is still in its infancy as far as many are concerned.'' He nodded to the map, getting back on track, ''This was last updated ten minutes ago and it will continue to update so long as the Tems remain oblivious to the Undervilde probes and concentrate on the GC probes. Believe me, Miss. I have a much better understanding of these things than you lead yourself to believe.''

''Why are you helping us?'' She said instead, suspicion creeping back into her heart.

''Because, as I said, these Temlasarians are getting too cocky and are spreading beyond the Thymion Void. They're going around spouting all this nonsense about being gods and such. They're causing too much trouble. Recently a trio of Tem ships got stupid and managed to get the drop on a Synthenoid freighter that was hauling water towards the Fringe Worlds. The freighter was destroyed along with its crew and the Tems who launched that attack vanished shortly afterwards in a blaze of anti-matter, courtesy of Fleet Lord Sharna herself. Plus, their crimes include genocide, full-cloning without medical or religious exemption, the hijacking of military ships and invasion of sovereign territories just to name a few. Plus, I stand by what Captain Spears said. With the death of a people, there is also the death of a culture and such a thing happening is unspeakable, especially to those of a more pacifistic nature. Regardless of the damage your last Empress did.''

He held up another finger as she started to protest, anger creasing her features, ''It's not just Spears and his ex-crew she hurt. It's the Avrans, too. They got wind that their lost could still be alive thanks to the fuss caused by the Hope's Blade charging back into realspace and provoking the Ranger to take an offensive stance. The Ranger's and the Synth's official report was released to the public, as Thymion's reemergence is something of galactic import. But the moment they learned their loved ones' memories had been wiped, there was a great deal of anger. I will tell you now and I will only tell you once; you will not be getting any help from Avras now. Regardless of the Tems' tampering, you robbed thousands of innocent people seeking to help you of their lives. It wouldn't be so bad if they had died then and there, but they were fed lies and set to live a life among people not of their own, not knowing that they had families of their own waiting for their return. Imagine if that had happened to someone you care about. So let it be known, right now, that I and many others, do not abide that kind of behaviour. Brainwashing is highly illegal and in some circles will get you executed. Right now, the only thing staying the GC's hand from meting out punishment for that particular crime is because of the fact that Empress Wolfen is dead and no one is callous enough to pin the blame of one woman's actions on those who are innocent of the crime. That, and the Hope's Blade's sudden appearance stirred the pot and the GC are gearing up to go to war with the Connaru again, so count yourself lucky and pray that the Connaru don't decide to help the Tems wipe you out, because the Connaru rumour mill is saying that Thymion purposely destabilized the peace talks so the GC could try to eradicate them once and for all. Basically, pull a stunt like that again, and Thymion is finished, regardless of its history.''

''Your cruelty is unwarranted.'' Rosemary whispered hoarsely. She hadn't really thought about the impact on the lives of those who had lost their loved ones to Angelica's mind-wiping. Nor had she thought about the political impact of the Hope's Blade's stealthed arrival on the fringes of Sterwill space inciting war. It had all seemed inconsequential at the time and was done to protect the people of Thymion, but now, history had caught up with them and was steadily biting chunks out of them all as Thymion was forced out into the open to finally deal with the rest of the galactic arm and what was beyond.

''So was Angelica's.'' Venomspite purred softly, his gaze sharp.

Rosemary was starting to realise just why he carried the clan name Venomspite, ''She was not of sound mind. That stone in her chest...''

''Yes..?'' He prodded curiously. Trillian had told him all he knew about it. Had told him what his Bressis crewman had seen and done. Had also told him that he had been left in the lurch, to figure things out for himself and that he still had no idea what was going on because no one on Angelica's side had bothered to enlighten him. She glared him, tears slowly sliding down her cheeks as she felt the surface of his mind. It was cold, calculating and Venomspite was hell-bent on forcing her to face things how everyone else saw it before he turned her loose on the galaxy. If she wanted her people to survive, she needed to see both sides of the coin instead of ignoring the inconvenient truth of why things had played out how they had. She knew things had been going too well, ''If she was not in her right mind, then why is Captain Spears such a villain to you all now? After all, he was just following orders and simply reacted to the situations presented to him. He behaved himself whilst in your people's presence, did he not? Or is he just a convenient scapegoat because you're all so fond of hiding, that you even shy away from the truth, no matter how damaging the lie is?''

''I wish to leave now. I will take Billy and-''

''No. You will not be going anywhere until this mess is resolved. You have an Empire to take back and I have Tems to cull before their incessant breeding swallows your neighbours.'' Venomspite said. His tone had Rosemary pinned to her chair, ''You will not turn your back on your people, is that clear? You cannot afford to run anymore. You must face up to what has happened and to what is happening right now.''

The snarl startled some sense into her and she promptly replied, ''Yes, Lord Captain Venomspite. I will do whatever I can to aid you.''

''Good. Now, this is my idea...''

Rosemary listened, her anguish at the sudden admonishment turning to intrigue, confusion and a curious sense of giddy horror. The methods of how the void elves travelled at FTL were difficult to grasp, but she could guess from the general understanding of what he was saying; that the Temlasarians had pushed their luck too far in venturing beyond the Thymion Void.

~~~~~~

Trillian crouched low in the shadows of the tightly clustered dumpsters that were overflowing with the waste from the take away joint he was hiding behind. Goust Station was his final stop, the last place his intel had led him to. One of his contacts, a Scav-turned-bandit, had said that a fair amount of Thymion related goods got passed around under the table on the station. And he had been spot on. With a data crystal four inches in length and two inches in width tucked away safely in an armoured pouch that was attached to the baldric tightly wrapped around his torso, he now owed his contact a round of drinks. The man had proven to be a veritable well of well-founded, reliable information for the last ten years no matter what Trillian asked of him. He slipped a hand underneath the fraying poncho he was wearing, wrapping his fingers around the tube to reassure himself it was still there. The crystal had been inscribed with a great deal of data, all of it pulled from the datacores and communications back-up systems aboard Thymion registered ships that had been hauled in. He had checked it himself. He owed his contact more than a few rounds of drinks, he decided.

Even though swiping the crystal from the hands of its new owner had eventually backed him into a corner. He had pick-pocketed an affluent rich bastard associated with Red Star Mining, a huge corporation that had a bad habit of being underhanded when it came to finding new places to mine. With Thymion's ability to naturally produce so much precious minerals in such a short amount of time, the outbreak of war was a golden opportunity for the fat conglomerates who mercilessly used such situations to their cruel advantage.

A pair of armoured station enforcers jogged past, their reinforced plastic armour rattling as they moved. Trillian ducked lower into the pile of refuse, holding his breath as a bag split open beneath him and a thick, sticky brown fluid oozed about his booted feet. Someone behind him gagged quietly but the guards didn't hear and so they kept on moving further into the alley. Trillian looked behind him. Of course, the enforcers weren't pleased with him. He had stolen from one of the station's best customers, been arrested for it, broken out of their pitiful jail, re-stole the crystal and had broken out every other convict in the ten cell strong enforcement building. One of those fellow prisoners he had liberated was a Tenglaari; nine and a half feet of muscle with four beady black eyes and four arms that had easily punched three armed enforcement officers into paste before ripping the building's armoured pressure door from its frame and using it as a shield-cum-battering ram. His name was Jorst, an ex-shock trooper and he liked that Trillian had freed him off his own back. The moment Jorst had discovered Trillian was in possession of a retired Tenglaari sensors corvette that had been meticulously restored to a fully operational state, was the moment that Trillian had made a new friend. Jorst had spouted something about honour and a life debt, and had sworn to help Trillian in his current endeavour and anything else he needed help with. An unnerving prospect, having an angry Tenglaari shock trooper breathing down his neck, but otherwise a welcome one as he had also freed the twenty Thymions that had come with the purged datacore.

Their datacore had been stripped, the ship sent to the breakers yard for recycling and what the station master had planned for the crew and passengers was nothing short of disgusting; they were too dishevelled and reviled for prostitution and they were too pacifistic for the gladiator pits. Some would go into slavery and the rest would be sent to the meat market to be slaughtered and sold on as an 'exotic delicacy' at an inflated price. Trillian knew all too well how cesspits like Goust operated. It was clean enough on the surface to pass a general inspection, but scratch that surface and the maggot infested rot showed itself all too readily. Trillian may not be on good terms with Thymion, but no one deserves that kind of fate. Being turned into a delicacy for the overfed assclowns who sat at the top of the pile yucking it up at everyone else's expense made him want to set some shaped charges at integral points around the station. But he didn't have time for that. Every second counted and the clock was ticking.

He gripped his needler tightly, his other hand dropping to his thigh. He gripped the handle of a twelve inch serrated combat knife, one of the few things he had kept from his time in the Shadow Stalkers. He looked out across the head of the hunched Thymions, nodding to Jorst. The Tenglaari, dressed in a tattered ship suit, his leathery hide adapting to the colours of his surroundings, nodded back. He muttered something to the trailing Thymion, an old fox with dark rosettes whorling across his grey fur. The fox looked terrified. They all did. But it was time to move. It was just one more block to the hangar where the Deymarii was being held and unbeknownst to the station personnel who were now hunting him and his fellow escapees, Trillian had been in constant contact with it since breaking free of the enforcement block.

He made a gesture with his hand and they trailed silently behind him in quiet terror, their movements furtive, ears swivelling, senses straining to detect threats as they followed the tiger like he was a shining beacon in the darkness. However, the threat was all around them, tangling their minds like weeds in a deep, rushing river. So they followed Trillian, mimicking his movements and soon the twenty-two strong train of getaways undulated and scurried its way to the entrance of the targeted hangar. Trillian made another hand gesture: palm flat and face-down. Get down. They had had to learn those gestures quickly, which hadn't been much of a problem since there were only three: get down, stop and move. They didn't need to be told to stay quiet. Their fear saw to that.

They had come to rest at the edges of a wide thoroughfare, hunkered down behind a warehouse that was rattling and clunking with activity. The security cameras didn't seem to be working, but that didn't matter. Both Trillian and Jorst were about to actively give them away so they could make good their escape. Or at least give it a damn good go. The tiger turned back to them, his eyes bright. He had seen the interior of the hangar via the Deymarii's sensors. Thirty people were inside and like any spacer worth their salt, they were armed in some way. But Trillian had an idea, assuming the Thymions he had picked up would go along with it. He told them what he had seen inside the hangar and their collective flicker of hope faded.

''I have full control of my ship from here. People will be shot. Hopefully, not us. Which is where you guys come in. I know I'm nothing more than a villain to you, but if you want to live, you need to listen and follow my orders. Now, how many of you are psychic and can manifest that in a more physical way? You know, telekinesis, that kind of thing.'' He asked. There was a smattering of announcements from the huddled group. Trillian nodded in satisfaction, ''I need you to hold some of those people at bay if it's within your power. All of them if you can. I'm not asking you to kill them, I'm just asking you to hold them in place or something. Anything that can get us to the ship in one piece. Once we're aboard, you can let go of them. The shields will easily take care of anything they throw at us. After that, it's just a case of running like hell. Can you do this?''

They stared at him wide-eyed. On their way to this point, he and Jorst had dropped so many people that confronted them the body count had exceeded a couple dozen. They had done so efficiently, dispatching anyone that tried to stop them with cold professionalism, leaving the bodies in the gutter, hidden by the obscene amount of rubbish that had collected there. One by one they nodded, unsure of using their powers offensively. It was downright distasteful and watching Trillian and Jorst systematically cut down those who got in their way was terrifying and off-putting. And yet, because of the two's actions, they were still alive and almost free of this miserable place. After all, having nowhere to go was far better than facing the butcher's block. Someone in the middle of the group voiced his opinion in hushed, unsure tones ''It's self defence. Not murder. Right...?''

''You won't be killing anyone. We will be doing that.'' Jorst said in his gravelly baritone. They flinched at his words but finally agreed that such actions were in their best interest, regardless of how they felt about it.

Trillian looked from one face to the next, his gaze tripping over them, scrutinizing them. He had no reason to believe them, but this was their only chance to get away. And if they were to die, at least this way, they would all die fighting.

''Don't let your guard down and stay close. The moment we're through that door, you stop anyone that looks our way. Got it?'' Trillian said.

They nodded one last time, visibly steeling themselves for what was to come. Trillian turned his back to them, eyeing up the two guards posted at the wide, double doors opposite them. The thoroughfare was a good one-hundred yards across, but they were quick on their feet, driven by anger and fear. So long as no one stalled or tripped up, they should be alright. Trillian peered around the corner of the warehouse, looking one way, then the next. He saw no one, but the hairs on the back of his neck prickled in a familiar way, his instinct telling him that there was more than just the two armed guards present. He mulled over how best to tackle the unknown situation presented to him. Then he had an idea. He turned to the Thymion directly behind him. She was quite short for their race, only measuring in at 6'2''. She was emaciated, but there was a bright spark of life deep within her glacial eyes and she was one of those who had said that she was psychic enough to perform mild acts of telekinesis. She stared back at him, her ragged ears perked, her nostrils flared and her pale blue wings shuddering with anticipation.

''Do you sense anymore people out there besides the guards we can see?'' He asked.

She looked at him, puzzled, then she realised that he wanted an opinion on just how clear the way really was. She carefully reached out with her mind, looking for other minds in their direct vicinity. She nodded. There were three more people out there; a pair of enforcers interrogating a worker just around the far corner of the warehouse they were hiding behind. They were just out of Trillian's line of sight, standing under the lean-to of the building's front. Trillian swore, relayed the info to Jorst with a series of bewildering hand gestures and thanked the wolf-caracal hybrid. He told them all to brace themselves because things were no doubt going to get messy once more.

Trillian was the first to rush out into the open, his gun hand swinging up. The guards on door duty dropped with horrible gurgles, their hands halfway to their hip holsters. Blood foamed at their mouths as he fired the 1 inch long, 1 millimeter thin needles into their throats where their armour segmented for ease of movement. The enforcers peered around the corner, alerted by the noise and shouted out. Trillian got to work with the door's locking mechanisms, ordering the Deymarii to find its security override and allow him entrance. The Thymions hurried after him at Jorst's growled command and they studiously ignored the giant Tenglaari as he rushed the two enforcers who were now charging down the road to meet them. The two enforcers went down in pained heaps as their forward momentum collided with Jorst's own. They had run into two of his outstretched arms, his two free hands balling into fists and hammering into their guts, driving them down to the ground harder than if they just dropped from the first impact. Once they were on the ground, Jorst didn't hesitate stamping on them, crushing their midriffs with a booted heel before stamping on their necks to silence them once-and-for-all. He ran back to the group, following them into the hangar just in time to see Trillian shoot down another guard mid-stride, his hands flying to his throat, trying to claw the needle out.

One of the dock workers charged at the Thymion nearest Jorst, wrench in hand, shouting obscenities. Jorst smoothly intercepted the feathery man with surprising speed and yanked him off his feet by the collar of his overalls. He pulled the wrench from his hand and subsequently beat the worker to death with a snarl of fury as he held him in a fist. Trillian downed another worker, shooting him in the thigh and left him rolling about on the floor in agony. The needles he was shooting had been coated in a mild neuro-toxin, so any survivors would be in so much pain that they wished they were dead.

The dockmaster came running out of a side door, a laser pistol in hand. He snatched one Thymion wolfess up and pressed the barrel into her stomach, snarling for them to halt and drop their weapons. She kicked and flailed, her flexing extendable toe claws finding purchase in his ample stomach. With a great heave using what little strength she had left, she disemboweled him as she squirmed free of his grip. His shocked cry of agony as he lay dying in a pool of his own blood and intestines seemed to change something in the wolfess as she suddenly grew quiet and somber, turning away. She sprinted towards the others, tears in her eyes and a sick feeling knotting her stomach painfully.

The Thymions then snapped out of their fear and induced a kind of mild psychic paralysis and every dock worker, security guard and enforcer in the hangar became locked into position, their eyes wide with confusion and unbridled anger. One of the wolves paused, his nostrils flaring as if scenting the air. He paused mid-stride, falling to the back of the group, turned and moved to a dock worker that was frozen by a stack of heavy wooden crates, hissing curses through his teeth. The wolf eyed him, took a rather ornate brooch from the man's pocket and slid it into his feathers before giving him a kick in his paralyzed knee, driving it backward with a decisive crunch of cracking bone and cartilage. He then turned and ran toward the corvette. The Deymarii dropped her embarkation ramp and they piled into the stubby corvette, the ramp sealing up the moment Jorst was aboard, satisfied with his head count.

''Get them strapped into every available crash couch. The fun's not over yet.'' Trillian panted as he rushed for the bridge, pushing past everyone.

''Aye, Captain. Will do.'' Jorst replied with a grin and a half salute to the tiger's retreating back. He then turned to the twenty-strong mob of battered and terrified Thymions huddled in the small hold, rummaging through his memories of having served aboard Banshee class sensor corvettes. He then started guiding everyone to the various sections around the ship, getting them strapped into the non-existent crew's crash couches just in case the inertial compensators failed. It would be a long, hard burn to safety and having someone pasted against the bulkhead wall would make the last four hours a considerable waste of time. The corvette only had space for twenty crew and so Jorst had settled them all in all throughout the ship in the various departments, including the bridge alongside Trillian. Jorst settled into position at the rear of the bridge, behind Trillian's right shoulder, the toughest of the Thymions standing to Jorst's right, looking horrified. They were pressed against the back wall, staring hard at the view screens, Jorst silently daring the inertial compensators to fail and smear him to paste whilst the tiger worked.

''Everyone settled?'' Trillian said. He was already connected to the ship's systems and Jorst saw the telltales on the weapons readouts by his elbow. The forward beam weapon was hot and was ready to fire.

Jorst laughed, confirming that everyone was safely stowed and that the one standing beside him knew the score. He knew full well, that within an atmosphere, the beam weapon's devastation would be multiplied by a hundred. The high-output laser would set everything in the hangar ablaze.

''You warned those poor idiots out there?'' Jorst asked.

''I have. But whether they want to listen or not, is another matter.'' He replied, then added, ''Looks like they're listening now the PDCs are online and hot, too.''

Trillian had toyed with the idea of getting the Deymarii to brute force the hangar doors open to allow them to escape, but something so simple wouldn't leave a lasting impression. Instead, he raised the shields and fired the beam weapon, giving it its full ten second burst before shutting it down. The atmosphere within the hangar shimmered with heat and then briefly igniting until a hole opened, letting the hard vacuum get to work on extinguishing the flames. One use gone, two more to go before serious maintenance was needed on the weapon and its mounts. However, that single shot had done its intended job and then some; the thick armoured hangar doors had been melted to such an extent that the Deymarii could just about squeeze through. The weapon had also lanced whoever was waiting for them on the other side.

A quartet of enforcer boats, three-man heavy bombers, had been caught by surprise as they had taken up a blockade position. The spear of highly concentrated energy had destroyed one completely, rendering it and its crew to molten slag chunks that were slowly expanding in a cloud of debris, whilst the other three were too damaged to save themselves. The Deymarii's drives lit up, destroying everything behind her in the hangar and she broke her tethers, burning hard for open space. They cut through the overlapping busy traffic lanes and fired a laser head missile at the secondary traffic control platform on the Goust border as they passed, forcing all traffic in the area to grind to a halt now their automated navigation systems were offline and being rerouted through the already overloaded primary systems.

By the time Goust warships had been scrambled, the Deymarii was gone, wrapping her stealth and ECMs around her like a cloak. Then she dropped stealth some ten hours later and plunged into the slipstream with a flash of exotic particles and one last ''fuck you'' broadcast on all bands to Goust Station's commander.