FSE

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"Are you sure you're up to it?" Field whispered, nuzzling his nose against Adelaide's bare, pink-furred shoulder. They were sprawled together in bed, in the dark, a ruby-red glow pulsing rhythmically in the background. Red alert lights. The alarm had sounded twenty minutes ago. The wasps were on their way, primed for a final, decisive strike.

"I'm coming into heat. That's all." The bat chittered as his nose drifted to her neck, his mouth taking over. He was kissing her, now. Wet, suckling kisses, one after the other. In return, she extended a wing-arm around him like a velvety blanket, turning and whispering into his ear. "Mousey ... mm, I'm not an invalid or anything," she defended, still trying to downplay it. The timing was bad, though. She couldn't deny that. And not just being thrust into estrus. It was the middle of the night. 0300, or some ungodly hour like that. They'd hardly gotten any sleep.

"I didn't say you were," the mouse replied. "You're the strongest, most confident fur I've ever known." He didn't doubt her ability to handle anything. He trusted her more than he trusted himself. But there was a reason female furs were given mandatory 'heat leave.'

"I'll spray myself with a pheromone-blocker."

"Those never stick. And it won't ... "

"Field," she interrupted, giving him a patient, plum-eyed look. "It'll be fine. I'll get through it. You know I have to be up there." On the bridge, she meant. "The rogue bats need me. We have to be able to disrupt the Queen's telepathic connection to her drones, or we have no chance." Every ship in the fleet had 'rogues' aboard. She'd been training for weeks to work alongside them.

He nodded quietly. There was a good chance they'd both be dead before the end of the day. Or, well ... end of the morning, technically. He rubbed at his blue-grey eyes. They were a little bloodshot from not getting any sleep. "I don't want to fight anyone. I'm so sick of this ... "

"Even after what the wasps did to you?" she reminded him.

"Killing them won't make me feel better about that. Or about anything."

"That's nature. There are always going to be predators, and there's always going to be prey. And they're always going to be at odds."

"Not always. We can get along ... I mean, look at the Arctic foxes. They're getting along with the snow rabbits, now."

"Because they were forced to," Adelaide said.

"What about Assumpta and Pyro? I've never been scared of them."

"There are exceptions to every rule." The bat sighed. Unfortunately, there weren't enough of them. "The wasps aren't giving us a real choice. Unless you count surrendering, and we both know that's not an option."

The mouse had a sharp, analytical mind, in spite of his innocence. He did, in fact, understand the situation, probably better than most. It was just that his heart was sensitive and soft, and he often deferred to it. That's what romantics did. They wanted to believe in ideal solutions, even in the face of plain pragmatism.

He just wished the anxiety would go away. He hadn't gone a day of his adult life without thinking about dying and how, no matter what, he was constantly inching closer to it. Love was a great distraction, yes. The best defense. But the underlying reality never changed, did it? You're prey, Field. You're being hunted by the Universe, and it doesn't lose. That's just how it is.

Adelaide, sensing his turmoil, wrapped both of her wing-arms around him, now. An all-out hug. "I won't let them get you again," she swore, raking her fangs against his cheek. It wasn't her fault he'd been captured and tortured the first time. But she still couldn't help but feel guilty about it. Surely, she could've done more. I'm the dominant partner in this mate-ship. I'm his protector.

"I love you," he breathed, one paw on her hip. The other coming between their bodies, sliding upward. He caressed and cupped her left breast.

"I love you, too, Field." She kissed his forehead. Oh, how she wanted to linger. She really was in heat. Some of her thoughts were almost embarrassing, even to someone as toothy as her. "We should get dressed and report to the bridge."

Reluctantly, the mouse nodded, giving his mate a longing look-over, and also a brief kiss on the lips, before wriggling out of bed.

"I didn't know you drank coffee," Wren said, noticing Field sipping from a plain, navy-blue mug.

"It's orange juice," the mouse replied, blankly.

"Yeah, I'm not awake, either." The squirrel paused, reaching for his friend's drink.

Field handed it over.

Wren took a few gulps and gave it back. "Thanks."

"Mm-hmm."

Lowering his voice, the walnut-furred squirrel said, "Is it my imagination, or is Adelaide ... "

"Yeah, she is," Field whispered back, shyly. "Starting to be, anyway."

"Those scent-maskers never work ... "

"I know." His ears went rosy-pink. "She'll be fine, though. She can still do her job."

Wren nodded. "Can you?" he wondered.

"Of course," Field said, clearing his throat.

"Just making sure. You haven't made a facial expression since you arrived."

"I'm just a little numb." Depressed was more like it. Or was that too dramatic? "And really tired. Better than having a panic attack, right?" he said.

"Where's that mousey innocence, this morning? Hmm? I could use some," Wren said, pretending to look inside Field's ears. "It's in there somewhere." He squinted, even daring to blow a breath into his lobe as if clearing it for inspection. "There it is. Now, how am I going to get it out?"

Field shivered hotly, biting his lip. "Stop it ... "

"Why? Am I making you smile?"

The mouse's dimples showed, and he looked away. "No."

Wren chuckled. "Liar."

"Mouses don't lie," Field insisted, not bothering to hide his smile, now.

"Not even ones with big, sensitive ears?"

"No."

"And what about squirrels?"

"I trust squirrels ... "

"Good. Cause this would be a bad time for insubordination." Wren winked, asking, more seriously, "Have all the station heads reported to you?"

"Everyone's at their posts," Field assured. "Engineering, sickbay, the armory. Even stellar cartography."

"Don't think we'll be needing any star charts, today, unfortunately. I'm sure they're starting to get bored down there," Wren said, glancing at the view-screen, "what with our lack of exploring and all ... "

"I haven't heard any complaints," Field insisted, ropy tail wavering around.

"Mm ..." Wren unsuccessfully fought a yawn.

Meanwhile, at the back of the bridge, Rella wandered over to Adelaide. "Am I the only one that notices our mates flirting over there?" she asked, lightly. "Wren just blew into Field's ear ... "

"I noticed," Adelaide assured with a smirk, her short, pearly-white fangs jutting past her upper lip.

"It's kinda cute, really," the mahogany-furred squirrel said. "As long as they remember to save the best for us."

"Mm-hmm ... "

"So, uh ... you're in heat, I take it?"

"What if I am?" the bat replied, locking gazes with the squirrel. The smirk was gone.

Rella raised her paws, innocently. "Just checking." Being female, the squirrel's nose wasn't nearly as sensitive to the bat's scent as the males' noses were. In fact, she could hardly smell anything. But having been through plenty of heats, herself, Rella was clued in to other, more subtle symptoms: dilated eyes, shortness of breath, and noticeable lapses in concentration. And that was only the ramp-up. "When it gets serious, you'll let me know ... "

"When it gets serious, everyone will know," Adelaide insisted, "cause I'll be fucking Field in the nearest lift."

The squirrel chuckled. "Well, there's only one lift leading off the bridge. If we have to evacuate, it might turn into a peep show. Just use Wren's ready room, instead. There's a couch."

The bat smiled, again. "I might have to take you up on that."

More seriously, Rella added, "As chief of security, I can't let someone be at their post if they're not 'all there,' especially during an emergency situation."

"There are forty-odd females on this ship. I can't be the only one in heat right now," Adelaide complained.

"You're the only senior officer, at least." She'd had hers last week. "As long as we're on the same page ... "

"We are." Adelaide looked past the squirrel's shoulder. Barrow had just entered the bridge. With two other rogues.

Rella turned around to see what she was looking at. "Ah. Well ... I'll leave you to it, then," she said, quietly. "Promise me you'll drive the wasps batty? Make my job easier?"

"I'll do my best," Adelaide assured. She sounded distracted. By what, Rella couldn't be sure, but ...

"Rella," Wren suddenly said, having returned to his captain's chair.

"Yeah?" she asked, immediately scampering back to the tactical station.

"I want full magnification on the viewer. And an update on short-range sensor scans. I want to know as soon as the enemy's within range."

"Viewer's already on full," she assured. Her tail was slightly matted. As was Wren's, come to think of it. Neither had time to 'fluff' them properly. Squirrel tails required such intensive grooming. "I still don't see them. But sensors say they're getting closer ... "

"Is it possible they're trying to fake us out?" Adelaide suggested, from Ops. The rogue bats were beginning to congregate with her, and the pink and blue fur made for a colorful crowd. "Could they be sending out false ship signatures? Make us think they're attacking here, only to divert their entire fleet to another target? Or maybe playing mind games? Wake us up in the middle of the night, don't attack, and make sure we're on edge when they finally do?"

"I wouldn't put it past them," Rella said. "But the snow rabbit Home-world is the most valuable target in the High Command. It's the base of everything. Nine stations, hundreds of ships. They can't control the snow rabbits if they don't control this sector. And that's what the wasps are after: control. There's no reason for them to wait any longer. It's all been building to this ... "

"They'll come," Wren agreed. But, until then, there was nothing to do but sit here and wait. And drink the rest of Field's orange juice.

"What are you doing here?" Dotna asked, sternly, even before the door had fully opened.

"Providing backup and other sundry services," Pyro declared, giving a mock-salute. His tail hiked up behind him. "Rella sent me."

"Oh, really?" The chipmunk gave the wolf a wry, disbelieving glance. She loved her mate, of course. He pushed her buttons like no one else. But he could be quite irreverent at times, and almost delighted in sending up authority. That was probably a holdover from his days as a freelance captain in the Uncharted Territories. "You're supposed to be under Adelaide's jurisdiction."

"Officially. But she's all busy with those mind diamonds ... and, also, being pretty obviously in heat."

"Psionic crystals," Dotna corrected.

"Same thing." A shrug.

"And you keep far away from fertile females not named Dotna ... "

"Is that a tongue-twister or a threat?"

"Both."

He chuckled. "It must be serious for you to talk about yourself in the third-person."

"You have the most-powerful nose on the ship," the chipmunk stressed. "I'm sure you notice when everyone's in heat ... probably enjoy it, too." Her tail flittered slightly.

A deep breath, deciding not to answer that. It was a trick question. Or, rather, a 'trap' question. "Anyway, Adelaide fobbed me off to Rella," he continued, "who told me to help you in the armory. So, here I am."

"She isn't afraid you'd try to have sex with me during the battle?" Dotna continued, not letting up.

"During?" He glanced at the nearest computer monitor, trying to read the chronometer. "Hasn't started yet. We have a good fifteen minutes, don't we ... " Hell, maybe even half an hour!

"Pyro." She tried not to smile. He was incorrigible! He just never stopped. And, god, it was charming. "This is serious."

"I know that," he said. "You know my history with the wasps."

"Only what you've told me," she said, with a hint of dismay.

"Well, I guess it's not so fun to tell." Death, destruction. Yeah, fun stuff. His roguish, cavalier attitude was genuine, to a degree. But it also served to hide a dark, turbulent past. He didn't believe on dwelling on negatives. Plus, his past involved many ex-lovers, most of them casual. He didn't want to make her jealous, or give her a reason not to trust him.

"Right. I'm sorry," she apologized, voice lowering to a whisper.

"Don't be." He brushed up against her, lifting her chin. "You're tense. Why do you think I'm making so many jokes?"

"Cause that's what you do."

He blinked, removing his paw from her face. "You don't take me seriously?"

"When did I say that?" she defended.

"I dunno." He wasn't one to get mad easily. Now wasn't the time, anyway. He was taller, and he put his nose in her head-fur, right in the middle of that bold, dark-brown stripe that ran down her back and up to her tail-tip. The stripe that was lined by white ribbons of fur. He breathed in and sighed. "If they board us, I'm going to take a phase rifle and go hunting. I don't want you to come with me."

"What? Why not?" She looked up at him.

"Because it's going to get very messy."

"I'm a security officer," she reminded. "And I've fought wasps with you before. Multiple times."

He nodded, allowing for that. But, still, "Someone has to load the torpedoes. And keep the phase canons charged. You can't let your feelings for me get in the way of your primary duty. If I disappear, you have to let me go. I'll try not to get killed."

She put a paw to his chest, grabbing at his uniform-shirt possessively. "What if they don't board us?"

"Well, then I get to stay here the entire time." He looked around, red eyes glowing with mischief. "Which torpedo did we screw each other on, again?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's already loaded in the chamber," she told him, letting go of him and walking away with a head-shake. She had some system checks to run. They couldn't have their weapons failing in any way.

"Fore or aft? I'd feel more comfortable with the fore," he told her. "Though I'm a bisexually-liberated wolf, so I can handle both, if need be."

She didn't respond. Just kept moving about.

"You're so much more intimidating when you're at work." He nodded and watched her move before glancing elsewhere. "So, can I lock and load all the phase rifles? Start handing them out to the other security officers?"

"I've already done that," she said.

"Oh. Well, I still need one," the wolf replied, making for a storage locker. "Did you give out goggles, too?" The wasps had hypnotic vision.

"Mm-hmm."

"Nothing gets by you. How come you're only an ensign?"

"Maybe I'm not sleeping with the right furs?" she teased.

"Can't be that, cause you're sleeping with me," he insisted, grinning. "Maybe I could beat someone up for you? I am a predator." He blew on his claws, pretending to polish them. "I'll have them make you a lieutenant. No, no ... a lieutenant-commander," he amended. "Everything sounds better hyphenated."

"I don't mind being a 'lowly' ensign," she insisted, tapping at some computer screens. "Now, as much as I love bantering with you, I really have to focus."

He nodded. "Just trying to lighten the mood," he told her.

"I know."

"I got your tail, you know? In battle or in bed. It's mine," the wolf vowed. He picked up a phase rifle from the locker and dropped it. "Uh ... well, at least we known the safety works." He cleared his throat.

"I feel safer, already," she said, dryly. Smiling in spite of herself. But it faded when the proximity alarm sounded. The wasp ships were nearly in range. She tensed, giving Pyro a look. "This is it ... "

"Looks like it." Cocking his phase rifle, Pyro slung it over his shoulder. He was ready for anything, come hell or high water. He had a vendetta to settle with the wasps, and maybe it would never be truly settled. But he relished the opportunity to try. This fight would be to the death. And he had no intension of doing the dying.

Like a disciplined, single-minded unit, the wasp fleet descended into high orbit of the snow rabbit Home-world. A cloud. A swarm. Sharp and angular, darkened to match the void of space itself, they made quite a contrast compared to the cool grays, whites, and light-blues of the mammals' vessels. The snow rabbit ships were so aesthetically pleasing. The Arctic fox designs were cruder, perhaps, but sturdy. All the faces inside these ships were hidden, however, and the hulls couldn't prevent the battle from becoming a strangely anonymous affair on the outside. The true turmoil stirred within ...

"Here they come!" Rella shouted, nape-fur standing on end.

"Taking evasive maneuvers," said Chester, without having to be told. His blunt claws tapping, fingers flying across the helm controls, making Luminous scurry through space.

"Fire at will!" Wren, of course. He didn't need to say it. Rella would've started the attack without his orders. But it came out, anyway.

A torpedo was launched, bright and twinkling. A starry sphere tumbling end over end, dangerously, until it smashed into enemy shields. Or did the wasps even use traditional shielding? A lot about them was still mysterious, even after all this fighting. If they did have shields, it didn't traditionally 'bubble' around their ships. It hugged tight to the hull. Almost like armor. A second skin.

A throbbing sound as Luminous launched another. Then another, along with sweeping arcs of the phase cannons. Full blast. They lit up the surrounding space, hammering into the arid hulls of the wasp vessels, which shimmered but held together, immediately biting back, spitting sickly-green bolts of energy in all directions.

ZAP!

The bridge shook. Hard.

"Eek!" went Field, rolling into a wall.

Wren, on his paws and knees, was immediately tending to the mouse.

"I'm f-fine," he replied, pushing himself upright.

"Shields ... ow! Dammit!" Console sparks burnt Rella's paw-pad. She tapped some panels, gingerly. "Defenses holding ... minimal damage," Rella assured, in spite of the ferocity of the hit. She glanced over at the Ops station. The four bats, Barrow, Adelaide, and two other rogues, were gathered there, around those purple, glowing crystals. The bats had their eyes closed, wings open, as if channeling some mystical force, broadcasting their telepathy into space, trying to interfere with the Wasp Queen's hold on her drones. The drones could survive without her, of course. But she was the glue. Rella swore she could feel the bats' minds, their power, their presence was becoming larger than life.

"Rella," Wren snapped, seeing she was getting distracted by the rogues. "We need to punch a hole in their lines. Break up the swarm ... " If they could split the wasp fleet into smaller groups, they'd have an easier time taking them on.

"Right! On it!" she squeaked. "But I can't do it without help ... "

"I'm trying to synch with the rest of our fleet, but the wasps are blocking all comm traffic," Ketchy said, if that hadn't been obvious already.

"Why is it that our signals are always the ones being blocked?" Field wondered.

"Oh, we're blocking theirs right back," Ketchy assured. "But they still have the Queen to transmit things."

"Not for long," Field assured, glancing back at Adelaide. Her eyes were closed. Her level of concentration was intense. And his own latent telepathic mind was buzzing at the amount of power she was harnessing. It almost turned him on, really. In a submissive kind of way. He loved when she got ... but, uh, there was no time for that, of course. Focus, Field. I know she's in heat, but please ...

"Try the backup channels, anyway," Wren ordered. Knowing the wasps would try something like this, the High Command had drawn up alternative forms of communication. Like disguising signals in engine exhausts, using local background radiation to amplify them, et cetera. They could've just used the rogues as a relay network, but asking them to multi-task would've been too much of a strain.

"Going to backups," the plain brown squirrel replied, adjusting her silvery earpiece.

"We should watch out for damaged wasp vessels. If they're crippled beyond saving, they may just ram themselves into the nearest target," Field speculated. "I know it's not the moral thing to do, but ... we have to destroy them when they're helpless, before they catch us unawares."

The squirrel raised a brow. That was such an anti-Field suggestion.

The mouse shrugged, weakly.

Wren nodded, glancing at Rella to make sure she heard it, too.

She did and tilted her head in acknowledgment.

Chester, from the helm, was sweating, his piebald fur beginning to mat. The irregular black splotches that covered his base-white pelt seemed to vibrate with nervous energy. He'd rolled his uniform sleeves up past his elbows, but he still felt uncomfortably hot. A sweat droplet ran off one of his whisker-tips, and he shifted in his chair, swerving Luminous into a roundabout evasive maneuver. About a minute ago, a wasp ship had begun stalking them from behind. Very closely. Spitting energy bolts at their rear shielding, no doubt trying to get to the engines.

"They're targeting the warp nacelles," Rella said, surely enough.

"Don't the snow rabbit ships see that? We need some help ... "

"They're all busy," she replied.

"You're gonna have to lose 'em, yourself, Chester," Wren said.

"Sir ... " Tapping the controls, he jerked the ship. But the pursuing wasps were glued to their path.

"Do a loopy-loop," the squirrel suggested.

"A what?"

"A three hundred sixty degree circle. Except upside down instead of sideways. When we finish it, we should come down right behind them. Do it fast. Don't give them time to react."

"Sir, if I do a maneuver like that too quickly, the structural integrity grid may fail ... "

"It's gonna fail, anyway, if we don't get out of this."

"Right," Chester mumbled, trying not to think about it. As he'd told Oliver a few days ago, you couldn't think when you piloted. The ship had to be an extension of you. With this in mind, the mouse performed the move. Everyone held on to something, though the artificial gravity aboard ship ensured they didn't really have to.

Field swallowed and held to the nearest railing, twitching all over.

Within four or five seconds, Luminous had looped behind its trailing attacker, and Rella immediately launched a torpedo. More than one. The wasp ship twitched, briefly, and tried to pull the same maneuver on Luminous. But Chester, anticipating this, followed them into their own backward swoop. Rella fired again, and then an Arctic fox prowler swooped in for assistance, baring all its teeth and delivering the kill. Luminous sailed free, unable to thank the foxes. But the good vibes only lasted for a few seconds. There were enemy vessels everywhere, and an increasing cloud of debris, too, through which to maneuver.

"Are we breaking up their formation?" Wren asked.

"The edges are beginning to fray. If the bats can confuse the drones a little bit more, I think we can scatter the whole swarm."

Wren, turning to look at the bats, was eager to ask them about their progress. What were they thinking? Feeling? He had no idea what it was like to have telepathic powers, much less project them through space. They were intently focused. Whatever they were doing, it seemed to be working. He only asked, via Field, "Is the Queen nearby?"

The mouse looked to the bats. Thinking the question to them. Sure enough, they picked it up.

Barrow nodded, distractedly. She was close. He didn't want to talk, though. Couldn't, really. If the Queen went down, there were princesses waiting to take her place. Backstabbing, power grabbing princesses. None of them were in snow rabbit space, however, and none were likely to take up a war their predecessor lost. The wasps, being so single-minded, didn't react well to any form of organized resistance. And the furs had been a much harder enemy to dispose of than they'd anticipated. This war was supposed to have been over in weeks. It'd been months, now. They were becoming restless. Twitchy. They were beginning to crack.

And, sure enough, the swarm began to loosen. The wasp ships began to scatter, madly, going after whatever sparked their ire. The Queen no longer had them working as one. Her link had been severed!

Wren, sensing this, excitedly gripped the armrests on his chair, watching as the Arctic foxes, especially, seized upon this development. They were predators. They knew how to hunt bolting prey. And while they did this, the snow rabbit vessels grouped together, leaping and loping into the center of the decaying swarm, trying to rip its heart out with agility and finesse. Explosions lit up the void of space. It was brutally violent but somehow beautiful in its catharsis, as ships screamed by each other with deafeningly furious silences, blue, green, and red lights streaking through the night, illuminating the changing tides.

It was pure havoc.

Rella's voice spiked as Luminous took another hit. "There's a hole in our shields." Beep-beep! Beep-beep! She sucked air. "We have intruders transporting into the lower decks ... "

"From where?"

"Everywhere!"

"Juneau," Wren shouted, down to engineering. "We need our defenses in order ... "

"You think I don't know that!" she yelled back, over the comm. "I'm fighting the possibility of a warp core coolant leak down here. If they keep hammering us from behind ... "

Ignoring the obvious double entendre, Wren said, "We got rid of the trailing attacker. You should be fine, now."

"The damage was done. I need time to repair it."

"That's not something you have."

"Well, we're gonna lose shields or engines, eventually. I'd rather keep the engines. At least we could make a run for free space." Being dead in the water was the worse option, in her mind.

Wren had to agree. And he knew engineering was doing their best. "There are wasp boarding parties sneaking aboard the ship. I assume they'll try to take control of engineering. I'd suggest you all arm yourselves."

"Assumpta already reached that conclusion. We've all got weapons. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm kinda busy ... " She cut the channel, brusquely.

"Sir," Ketchy said, voice shaking slightly. While it was true that she was the same species as Wren and Rella, she didn't control her rodent anxiety as well as them. She kept thinking about Kody. How he was down in sickbay, probably already operating on casualties. She admired his strength and his ability to compartmentalize things. She wished she was more like him. "I got some messages through, using the alternative techniques ... I think I've managed to put together a miniature fleet."

"Define miniature."

"Four ships?"

"Better than nothing. Once we're together, we move in a V-formation. We'll take the point."

Field couldn't resist saying, "Feeling dominant today?"

"Must be the testosterone in the air," Wren replied, winking in spite of the seriousness of the moment.

"Well, if you have any extra, let me know," the effeminate mouse said, making a nervous joke. He glanced back at Adelaide, helplessly, hoping this would be over soon. He wanted her so badly. In more ways than one ...

Pryo bared his teeth, standing back to back with his mate. Tail flagged high, ears pinned down. "How are you holding up back there?" he yelled. He hadn't needed to go hunting for wasps. They'd come to him, trying to storm the armory and sabotage the weapons systems. Bastards.

"Don't worry about me," she insisted through gritted teeth, firing her phase rifle as a wasp shimmered into view. She immediately took it down, exhaling with relief.

"My rifle's running out of charge," Pyro noticed.

"What? How many fucking times have you fired it?"

"I just want to make sure they're dead!" Another flashed into sight, like a mirage, and instead of firing at it, Pyro just swung his rifle like a bat, cracking its skull. "Home run," he growled, darkly, kicking the wasp aside.

"If that's how you play baseball, I'd hate to see how you play basketball," Dotna said, moving back to the armory controls. Pyro would have to hold off the intruders. She needed to make sure the torpedo tubes were stocked and the phase canons weren't burnt out.

"I usually foul out. Refs always have it in for me," he said, swinging his rifle again. Then firing one of its last charges. The wasp who'd been coming at him was no longer in motion. "Toss me your rifle, babe," he said, holding out a paw.

The chipmunk did so. "They probably have it in for you cause you mouth off."

Dropping his own rifle, he cocked hers, tongue hanging out of his maw, red eyes glowing eerily. "I only mouth off when I flirt."

"So, are we flirting now? I hope you're not enjoying this," Dotna said, wiry tail and whiskers flicking about. Her pretty, multi-browned stripes seemed to ripple as she moved. Chipmunks had so much energy. She moved to a torpedo tube, opening it. Using a magnetic leveler to put a few more inside.

"This is what the wasps wanted, right? Gotta give 'em what they want. I don't have to enjoy it, but I was built for this." It wasn't really a 'yes' or 'no' response. His chest heaved, the top of his uniform undone, grey fur showing in tufts. He was about to comment on how sexy he looked and how, really, he would be a great motivational speaker, when his ears cocked. "Hear that?"

Dotna looked around, head lifting and nose sniffing. "No."

"Exactly. I think they stopped ... " The ship pitched violently, throwing them to the floor. "Mmf!"

"Funny way of stopping ... " She chittered and picked herself up.

"I meant inside," Pyro insisted stubbornly, rejoining her on his foot-paws.

"Or maybe they're just beaming into another part of the ship."

"Maybe," Pyro said, gripping his weapon. He wasn't about to relax until he knew for sure.

Assumpta leapt and hissed, sinuously spinning around the lower section of engineering, using her unsheathed, unfiled claws to rake down any wasps in her path. The other engineers, all prey, flanked her when possible, providing cover with their phase pistols while also trying to keep the ship's systems online.

"I need someone to stabilize the inter-flow matrix!" Juneau shouted, ducking as a piece of metal flew past her head. "Now would be a good time!"

The fighting snow leopard, batting a large, spotted paw at a flitting wasp, heard a crack. Exoskeleton. It slumped aside, and her breasts heaved. She was filled with bloodlust. It would've made her sick if it hadn't come so naturally. She was a big cat. It was part of her design. "Are there more?" she demanded.

"Wasps or problems to fix?" the squirrel replied, stiffly. "I think you got the last of the former ... "

"For now," she muttered.

"Just give me a paw, will you." Raising her voice, the squirrel shouted, "And where the hell is Crew-fur Mortimer? The captain needs those shield reinforcements!"

"I'm working on it!" shouted a flustered voice. A male raccoon.

Assumpta, panting with exertion, leaned on the console beside the chief engineer, crossing her arms. The warp core glowing. The carpeted floor covered with debris. "I just saved your pretty tail, you know. Two or three times. That last wasp was aiming to take you down directly."

"Remind me to thank you later," Juneau quipped, not wanting to think about it. She shoved a toolbox at the self-assured feline. "Assuming there is a later ... "

"If you've no confidence in our survival, then we are already dead."

"I assume that's some ridiculous predatory mantra?"

"Perception can become reality if you let it." A pause, unable to resist a final tease. "Now, about that reminder of me saving your life. How soon do you want it?"

The squirrel glared.

"Later, then. Right ... "

Chaos reigned all around the bats, but they seemed completely oblivious to it. Their eyes closed, in full telepathic flower, they extended their collective consciousness beyond the bridge, beyond the starship Luminous, and into space, into other ships. It was difficult to explain, much less comprehend. They'd done it, though. The Queen's connection had been broken. But there was still work to do. They had to prevent her from reestablishing a link.

Adelaide, for one, had never felt so vibrantly alive. Well, almost never. The only thing that could compare to wielding such power was making love to Field. Before meeting the rogues, she'd known that her species' cognitive abilities could be pushed further, but she'd never known just how far. She hadn't imagined this!

And it was nothing to be afraid of, either. She understood that, now. Evolution gave them these abilities, no rules, no strings attached. It was natural, right? And the more comfortable she became, the easier it was. She was no longer simply stuck to reading minds and influencing behaviors. She was unchained, unleashed, able to go so much deeper. It was so liberating. It was a rush.

Adelaide suddenly felt Barrow 'thinking' directly into her mind. 'For someone who's spent their life being so polite and restrained with their powers, you're doing well. Very well ... it took me much longer to reach the level you're currently at. Of course, I didn't have the crystals to aid me.'

'Thanks.' A simple, quiet reply. She was becoming slightly overwhelmed. Maybe she was trying too hard, getting over-eager. Or maybe it was because her heat was growing like a wildfire.

Sensing this, Barrow thought-said, 'You don't have to absorb everything you tap into. Filter it. Without thinking, let the unnecessary information fall aside. Relax ... '

'There's so much to tap into, though. I feel like I can use it all,' she thought-replied back to him. Adding, 'I want it ... ' She wanted everything.

'I know. You feel invincible.'

'Yes ... exactly ... '

'But you're not. None of us are.'

Field could sense Adelaide and Barrow were in communication. He watched them. With all the major stations filled and functioning, he was relegated to an observer. His diplomatic input wasn't needed right now. And the images on the view-screen were too disturbing to stare at. So, he gave in to his desires and focused on his mate, instead. And the moment he saw her stagger backward, he was there, holding onto her.

'She overloaded herself,' Barrow thought to him. 'I could sense it was going to happen, so I protected her from most of the harmful feedback. But take her to sickbay just in case.'

"Can you handle things with just the three of you?" Field asked, sounding rather panicky. "What should I have Kody do to her?"

'We'll manage. And he can give her a neuro-stabilizer.' Whatever that meant. 'And a contraceptive. Oh, that's right. You two are trying to get pregnant.' A wink. 'Good luck, huh? Trying to make new life amidst the death and destruction of war? Is that poetry or irony?'

Field didn't reply. Just twitched, nodded, and nudged his disoriented mate toward the back lift, one arm around her back. He glanced over to Wren, realizing he hadn't asked for permission to leave. But the squirrel had been watching his friend and nodded, gently. After a rough start, the battle was turning their way. They could spare a few sets of paws.

As the lift whirred and took them down a few decks, Field nuzzled Adelaide's neck. Her scent was alluring as sin, like apples and cinnamon, heavy and moist. It was easily beginning to overpower the pheromone-blocker she'd sprayed herself with. His mousey modesty was the only thing that saved him from being impulsive and ravenously taking her. Instead, he whispered, "Are you okay?"

"I don't know what happened," she replied, groggily. "I just had access to so much, and then I just lost hold of it." She shook her head, scoldingly. "I messed up."

"It was your first time going that far," Field told her. "Barrow said you overdid it. You overextended yourself."

"I'm sorry, Field."

"For what?"

She closed her misty, plum-colored eyes. Rarely had she been this confused. "I don't know."

He hugged her tightly, also getting emotional at her distress. He was such a sensitive, empathetic thing. Soon, the doors slid open, and they stepped into the corridor. But as soon as the lift shut behind them, the deck violently pitched. The lights flickered. Screeching sounds of metal being ripped, twisted apart. They both crumpled to the carpet with a thud.

"Ow ... " A wince. "That sounded bad!" Field squeaked, rather obviously.

"Yeah. Like a hull breach," Adelaide mumbled, groggily. Staring at the ceiling and nodding in agreement. Until Field helped her up. She was trying to use her powers to find out what just happened. Trying to read thoughts all the way up on the bridge. But her mind was just too scrambled right now. Throw in her feminine condition, and, well ...

"Does the air feel lighter to you?" Field asked, leaning her against a wall. "I mean ... thinner ... " It was suddenly harder to breathe. It wasn't his imagination. The hull had been breached. And, sure enough, a klaxon went off announcing just that. Oh, god.

"What do we do? Sickbay's not that far ... "

"There's no guarantee it hasn't been affected, too. We could get there only to run out of air," he guessed. And the access tubes would take too long to crawl through. His whiskers twitched frantically. "Um ... the escape pods! They work on their own emergency back-ups. We could get in one of those. There's one right around the corner."

Adelaide wasn't in any position to argue, so just gestured with a wing-arm. "Lead the way, mousey."

"After you, my Winged Victory," he said, picking her up in his arms. He carried her. A very romantic gesture. But also a necessary one.

She didn't resist.

They were inside the cramped, little pod within a minute, sealing it. Unfortunately, in their panic to get to safety, neither had remembered that it was set to auto-launch the moment it was occupied to save time during a real evacuation. And the pod was suddenly drifting away from Luminous' lower front.

Field, blinking in surprise, tried not to panic. Whiskers twitching comically, ears cocking like satellite dishes atop his head. "Alright, alright ... let's just let Wren know we're out here. Can you operate any of the controls?" he asked the bat, his ropy, prehensile tail was seeking things to curl around. Literally his entire body was in motion, somehow. And he was sitting in a chair.

"I can barely focus ... but I, uh, think the wasps scrambled all comm traffic, remember?" she reminded him.

"That's right." He gulped. "Well, this thing has to have engines. Even if they're underpowered."

"They do. Here," she said, pointing with an elongated thumb.

The harvest mouse didn't have a chance to engage the controls before a piece of debris blindsided them, smacking into the side of the pod's delicate hull and sending it tumbling further down, end over end. Weapons fire barely missed them, too, as a few ships raced around them from behind. Allied ships. A wasp vessel was slipping into the lower atmosphere of one of the snow rabbit moons. And, oh, their escape pod was going down with it! This wasn't happening! Why is this happening ...

"Does this thing have seatbelts?" Adelaide asked lightly, when she realized their rapidly approaching fate.

"I'm not gonna let us get killed," Field assured, already beginning to sweat. His heart felt like it was going to burst. The anxiety was so intense. "We can crash land it."

"We?" A hot flash came over her. "All I can think about is sex ... " She began to fondle her mate. Hey, why not go out in style?

"Mm-h ... " He liked that. Sex? Yes! Er ... no. No. "Have to focus, have to focus," he squeaked to himself.

"When's the last time you landed anything? In the Academy?" Adelaide guessed, trying to control herself. She felt like a fool. She blamed nature. But, then, nature also gave such lavish treats for playing the part. "You sure you can do it? Doesn't this thing have autopilot?" They'd been together during Luminous' entire mission, and she'd never seen Field behind the helm of anything.

"I'm sure it does, but it's not meant for this. I have a good memory. I think I remember basic flight training ... no, I do remember," he insisted, ears swiveling atop his golden, mousey head. "If you've any other options, now would be the time ... "

She didn't. She trusted him completely, though. He was her mate. And amidst all this havoc, wasn't that the only thing that truly mattered? Love? She hugged herself with her wing-arms, consciousness still a bit weak. She hoped they would be together in heaven if they did die ...

The mouse glanced out the window, looking for Luminous. It was out of sight. Sick with adrenaline, his field of vision was filled, now, with endless tundra. White, rocky moon. The sound hurt his ears. A rushing, windy noise, one of terminal velocity. It crackled with friction.

The outer hull began to heat up. The crippled wasp ship ahead of them veered slightly, beginning to glow orange and emit a heat trail. The trailing Allied ships scattered, deciding to let it crash. They had a battle to return to. They didn't even notice the escape pod. It was too small.

The mouse and bat were on their own, exchanging a final glance, both steamy and loving, before the mouse, leveling their descent as best he could, took his paws away from the controls. He grabbed for the bat, quickly securing her safety harness. And then tightening his own, he closed his eyes and braced for impact.