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The comm channel chirruped, gently piercing the darkness.

No response.

It sounded again. And again. Followed, finally, by an impatient voice. "Aria to Sheila. Are you there?"

Sheila stirred, grumbling weakly. The sheets strewn. Clothes on the floor, as if they'd been removed hastily. She was, indeed, here. And had been up far too late. A silver-furred, pink-padded paw reached over to the bedside stand, blindly slapping for her comm-badge. She then realized she didn't have one. The signal was coming from the wall somewhere. Right. "What?" the hare barked, keeping her eyes closed. What time was it? 0500?

"Sorry to wake you," the snow rabbit said, evenly, "But we've just crossed into the UT. We're an hour from Redwing Station."

"Already?"

"We're running ahead of schedule," Aria explained, going on to brag about how Arctic was the fastest ship in the fleet. Sheila yawned. "We'll be docked at the station all day, unloading supplies and conferring with the crew." If you could call it a 'crew.' Skeleton staff would be more appropriate. The station was bigger than any snow rabbit starship, but would have less than a dozen officers. If the 'mission' was a success, a civilian population would eventually spring up, and once that happened, more officers would be allotted. Until then, it was 'wait and see.' "But I thought you'd like to be kept appraised of the situation," Aria continued. "I know how tactical officers are." The snow rabbit, of course, had been one herself. A constable on Orbital 9, above the snow rabbit Home-world. And now captain of the Arctic, with a focus on security missions. Like this one. "I'll be at the forward airlock once we dock at the station. I'll see you there."

"Sure thing," the hare mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Yes, ma'am," Sheila replied. Aria was her superior officer. The hare had been out of the chain of command for so long, first with her misadventures in the UT and then being a prisoner of the wasps. She'd become stubbornly independent. It was hard to reign that in.

"Good. Aria out."

Sheila sighed as the comm channel was cut. Blinking groggily, she stared at the shadow-strewn ceiling, whiskers twitching once or twice. She wondered if accepting this mission had been a bit rash. Captain Wren had offered her a 'comfortable' position aboard Luminous. She'd declined. Luminous would've been a known quantity, sure. But the hare thrived on the unpredictable. On tension. Don't you dare get soft, Sheila. You're beyond that. You're independent. There was that word, again ...

Her internal debate was interrupted by a stretching moan.

She turned her head.

"Guess we'd better start packing?" said another voice, phrasing it as an irreverent question.

"We? How long have you been up?" the hare demanded of Barrow, the periwinkle bat. She'd forgotten he was here, honestly.

"Why? You ready to go again?" he murred, lowly.

Sheila simply twisted about, the sheets billowing as she kicked at him. "Get. Out," she panted, before slurring, groggily, "of my bed."

"Your bed? These are my guest quarters," he reminded.

She paused, frowning. He was right. But, still ... she kept kicking at him. Not hard. But enough to move him.

"If anyone should leave ... " He was cut off as a big, strong foot-paw finally pushed him over the edge of the mattress. Wing-arms flapping, Barrow echo-burst as he hit the carpet. "Hey! That hurt!"

"Then maybe next time you'll listen."

"So, there will be a next time?" he asked, not letting her off the hook.

No response.

"That's what I thought." The bat got to his shins and knees, stretching his wing-arms. "You're addicted to conflict, you know that? You like to butt heads and bodies," he stressed. "You can't admit you want my company, because that would be too tame, too domestic. Too simple. But you do want me."

"Please," she scoffed. "You're a doctor and a telepath. I know you have a compulsion to fix things, but I'm not anybody's project."

"I never said you were my project ... "

"No, but I can sense it."

"So, hares are telepathic, too?" he challenged.

"Our association," she said, strategically, "is purely about sex."

"And I like sex. But you can't like someone you screw?" he continued. "Even as friends?" Maybe good friends, even ...

"If you value access to my pussy, you'll shut up."

The bat sighed and closed his maw, obeying.

"There's a good boy," she said, flippantly, not bothering to help him up off the floor. "Now, you heard the captain. We're almost there. We better get dressed."

"We'll be within hailing distance if you need us. Our patrol route will only take us a few days away, then back again. I'll tell all this to Commander Graham, of course, but ... "

"I'm sure we'll be fine, ma'am."

"Aria."

"Mm?"

"You can call me Aria, if you wish."

Sheila just nodded, curtly.

Aria made a face, not liking the hare's attitude. "You will call us if you need help," she reiterated. "The High Command doesn't want to lose its only foothold in the UT." She looked around, raising a snowy brow. "Your mate is running late."

"He's not my mate." She scoffed defensively as she said it.

"Oh?" A raised brow. "I don't suppose you'd care to elaborate?" Rabbits were always intrigued by sexual stories.

The hare gave a look that said 'what do you think?'

"Very well." A disappointed face. "We all have personal lives. Just make sure it doesn't interfere with your duties." With furs, though, that was asking for a lot.

Barrow eventually appeared, panting slightly. "Sorry," he apologized. "I, uh, can't function without a proper breakfast."

"Understandable," Aria said, with a nod.

Sheila hadn't eaten anything, herself. She was beginning to regret it. But she'd grown used to 'fasting' while being a prisoner of the wasps. I'll be fine. I can handle anything.

There was a hum-thrum that could be felt through the deck plating as the engines powered down, maneuvering thrusters firing. Arctic was in the process of docking at one of Redwing Station's upper pylons. Ker-klunk! Followed by a chirrup from Aria's comm-badge, as a calm snow rabbit voice, presumably the first officer, said, "We've docked. They're ready for you."

"Thank you," Aria acknowledged, clasping her paws behind her back. In front of the trio, double doors swished open. Revealing a very short hallway. They advanced through it, to thicker, heavier doors, which clunked open to reveal a rusty-red docking hatch. It rolled aside. Retreating into the station's own bulkhead with a whir-whir-clunk. Silence followed.

Barrow, sniffing the air, remarked, "Place needs some circulation."

Sheila gave the blue bat a look.

"What?" he went, innocently.

"You're too pampered," she responded.

"Am not. I've lived in plenty of uncomfortable places with the 'rogues' before the High Command gave us asylum."

Aria cleared her throat.

The hare and bat went quiet, both frowning, following the bobtailed captain onto the station.

The air was comfortable enough, uniformly dim with a faint bluish hue coming from the lights. It was a bit dusty or musty. Or whatever you'd call a place that hadn't been properly used or cleaned in years. It was a bit run down. A polite way of saying it wasn't as technologically advanced as a typical snow rabbit station. It was a project, to be sure. And the new head of this 'project' was here to meet them.

Aria nodded, primly, and introduced herself. Then gestured at the others. "This is Sheila, your new security officer. And Barrow, your doctor."

"A pleasure to meet you both," the other snow rabbit said. He had a friendly disposition. He must've been about thirty years old. Younger then Barrow, older than the two females.

Sheila nodded back.

Barrow, meanwhile, slipped his telepathic feelers into the snow rabbit's mind, reading his current thoughts, his age, a brief career history, personality type. The last fur he'd bred. Relevant information like that.

"I'm Commander Graham." A formal half-bow. "Forgive the state of the place. I just arrived here a day ago, myself. The former owners, if you can call them that ... well, they left the station in a sorry state. And to make matters worse, it was ransacked several times after they left."

"Who were the former owners?" Sheila asked. She'd been given a mission briefing, and she'd read over it. But a lot of it was conjecture.

"This place was built by an avian culture. Centuries ago. We don't know what species, specifically. They simply 'vanished'. Far as we can tell, it sat empty for decades before various mercenary and commerce groups tried to use it."

"What led the High Command to gain possession? There's no 'law' in the UT." Sheila knew this from experience. "What's to stop the locals from storming the castle and taking it back?"

"The threat of the Arctic swooping in to exact penance," Aria answered for Graham, bobtail raising up proudly.

"Precisely. As well as the fact that, with your help," the male snow rabbit said, locking eyes with the hare, "we're going to overhaul our defense systems. Give this place some teeth." A mellow, little smile. "Our mission is to turn this place into a proper community. One that can bridge the gap between the UT and civilized space."

"Sounds so noble. I'm almost convinced," Sheila said, bitingly. She'd learned from her experience with the Federation that good intentions were usually fronts for self-interest. There were no saints. "We both know the real reason is strategic. If the wasps or any other insect species launches an assault on furs, it'll come through the UT. Same with these 'humans' everyone is whispering about. We're mainly meant to be a listening post, an early warning siren, and ... "

" ... you've made your point, lieutenant-commander. Suffice it to say," Graham amended, with admirable restraint, "we will have many missions. But none of the others will succeed if we can't build a stable community. Wouldn't you agree?" His bobtail flickered like a flame.

The hare sighed through the nose, saying nothing further.

"What ship did you arrive on?" Aria asked Graham, wisely changing the subject. "If you were coming from the Home-world, we could've transported you ourselves."

"I was already near the border. It was a quick journey aboard a shuttle," he assured. "Now, the rest of the staff is in the ward room below Ops. We were about to have our first staff meeting. You're just in time." He gestured with a soft, brilliant-white paw, eying Aria discreetly. "If you'll follow me ... "

"This is Captain Aria, of the Arctic. We'll be seeing her from time to time."

Aria bowed her head in acknowledgement. The ward room was basically a conference room. A big, long table, padded chairs, and a wall of observation windows.

"And these are the last of our new crew-furs. Barrow, our medical officer, and ex-rogue," Graham said, nodding at the bat. "And Sheila."

The hare sniffed her nose grumpily at being mentioned last. Like an afterthought. 'Oh, yeah, and Sheila ... '

"Hello, Barrow," said a few voices, in unison. "Hello, Sheila."

Sheila just nodded, briefly.

The periwinkle-furred bat, though, grinned at having the room's attention and decided to give an impromptu speech. "Hello. Now, I know most of you haven't been around a bat before, but rest assured, we're not vampires, ghosts, or goblins. I have wings, but I can't fly, and I do bite, but only for mutual benefit." His eyes sparkled at that. "Now, I am telepathic, but I can't help that. So, don't hold it against me if I get a bit ahead of myself."

"I've been round bats," a rat replied, casually. "They got lots of 'em in the black market out here. The Syndicate, they call it. They protect the bosses, ensure loyalty. Acquire information, sometimes to use as bribes."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Barrow said, with a frown. "But there are bad apples in every species. In case you didn't hear, us bats just saved all your tails from total annihilation. When the wasps were done with the big governments, they were gonna come for the outliers, next. That includes all you friendly folk from the UT. You're welcome," he emphasized.

"Cocksure sorts, from my experience," the rat continued. "Always think they have a wing up on the room."

"That's cause we do," Barrow said, seriously. Didn't she hear the part about bats saving her ass? "But you can trust me. I'm a doctor."

"Oh, well, in that case ... " She rolled her eyes.

Barrow did a quick scan of her mind. Petra. Local to the UT. A spunky sort. Was here as a liaison between the High Command and indigenous furs. And was also the first officer.

"Well," Graham said, intervening while he had the chance. "You've met Petra. Let me introduce you to the rest of us." He nodded at a very pretty skunk. The uniform she was wearing didn't do her figure justice. "This is Seldovia, our communications officer."

"Charmed," she said, nodding at Barrow with a polite smile. She held out a raven-black paw, expecting him to kiss it.

"Likewise," the bat echoed, reading her mind, too. She had royal blood. A princess. Ex-princess, actually. Interesting. He obliged and kissed the paw. Why not? He loved to flirt.

"Royals are usually trained to detect telepaths. I'm no exception. I know you're in my thoughts."

"Am I?" A roguish, fanged grin. "Must've slipped ... "

"I have a hard time believing you'd engage in anything that isn't deliberate," she replied, almost playfully. Even though she had detected him, she wasn't keeping him out. At all.

"And why's that?" he whispered.

"Well, you're a doctor. You probably have surgical precision."

"Oh, I never miss my mark," he assured.

Sheila rolled her eyes and gave a snort, crossing her arms.

Barrow flashed the hare a frown.

The black and white-striped skunk folded her paws in her lap, eying Sheila almost jealously. She seemed like a strong female. And she had the bat's scent on her. They must've been involved in some way. The skunk may have been pretty, but too often males treated her like she was dumb. Or an object. They talked to her in soft, flattering voices, always smiling. That's how she knew males wanted sex. They'd smile like crazy when introducing themselves. And she sometimes indulged them, yeah. Sometimes. Barrow was cute. Maybe she'd indulge him? But, again, Sheila. What was the deal with them? Are you that lonely that you want to get involved in that? Probably not ...

She'd always felt that females like the hare, or even Petra, were able to dictate their own terms to others. They were tone-setters. Seldovia been raised in privilege, where manners and decorum were paramount. You had your role, and you played it. Because that's how things were done.

"Next to her," Graham continued, "is Seward. Our chief engineer."

Seward, a male snow rabbit, gave a modest, quiet nod. He had no sexy, unique back-story, so Barrow didn't spend much time on him. Other than noting that he had a cane with him. One of his legs had been weakened. A recent war injury. Poor thing. I'm sure, as his new doctor, I'll be having to tend to that. But that's for later. His telepathic feelers skipped to the next seat.

A spotted jaguar with a dangerous disposition.

"Advent," Graham said, reluctantly. "On loan from the Federation. They insisted they partake in this endeavor. She reports back to them but is under my command whilst on the station." He was saying this as much for her benefit as Barrow and Sheila's.

The silver hare tensed and uncrossed her arms, paws clenching into fists. Her poofy tail flagged upward, instantly, ears standing to attention.

Advent purred, tauntingly. "Nice to see you again," she said to Sheila, unsheathing her claws and idly raking them across the tabletop.

Barrow blinked. They knew each other?

Sheila said nothing in response. Just grimaced in annoyance.

Barrow couldn't read the feline's mind. What the hell! Since when did so many furs get trained in telepathic aversion? It was a very intensive process. He wished he still had those psionic crystals. You could easily overcome mental shielding with those. But the crystals had stayed with the 'roost.'

Next to the jaguar, almost unnoticed, was a shy, grey-furred mouse. "This is Herkimer. Say hello, Herkimer," Advent told him, elbowing him in the side.

He jumped and cleared his throat, squeakily. "H-hello ... "

Barrow's features softened. The poor rodent was 'romantically' involved with Advent. He was a shy, trusting type, and she'd 'claimed' him. He was from the Federation, too. A recent arrival to the UT. Had no family left. They'd all been killed in the recent political upheavals. He'd been lonely, anxious, and in desperate need of a safe, stable life. Advent had promised to protect him. She was a predator, after all. But Barrow didn't need to use his telepathy to detect the subtle signs of physical abuse. She treated him more like a pet than a mate. And he was too naïve and eager to please to recognize it.

"Herkimer is our Operations officer," Graham said, softly. He, too, could see that Herkimer was in an unhealthy situation. But mature furs were allowed to choose their mates. Maybe he got off on whatever Advent did to him? Maybe he was just that submissive? Regulations wouldn't allow Graham to interfere with his officers' personal lives unless they became publicly disruptive. And it hadn't reached that point. Yet.

And, finally, there was another snow rabbit. Busty, doe-eyed, with a sweet, lilting voice. "Annika," she provided, politely, for the newcomers' benefit.

"She's an ambassador. Here to handle the diplomatic end of things."

"Uh-huh," Barrow muttered. Hearing only 'handle' and 'end' and 'of things.' She could handle that whenever she wanted. Mm-h. Seldovia was very pretty, yeah. But Annika was hot. More than Aria, honestly, as far as the rabbits in the room went. He was beginning to see why the snow rabbit species was so large as to have its own powerful government. They were all so attractive! It only made sense they'd be screwing each other all the time. And you'd develop quite a population after a while of doing that. Indeed, Graham was banging her, the bat discovered. But the commander had neglected to mention that. Maybe everyone else already knew? Or maybe he was simply more modest than your average bun.

"And that's everyone, for now," Graham said, motioning to the empty seats. He had a few words for the entire group.

Barrow sat next to Seldovia.

Sheila sat next to Barrow. She was aware it made them look like a couple, but she didn't want to be anywhere near Advent. No doubt Barrow would ask about that later.

Aria sat at the head of the table, and Graham remained standing, paws on the back of her chair.

The Commander took a deep breath. "Now that the entire senior staff is present, we can begin our mission. You all know what that is, of course. But it's going to take time. Before we can upgrade and install the station's major systems, we need supplies. Arctic will unload enough to get us started," he said, looking down at Aria, "but we're going to have to work with the locals to get more. Petra, being our liaison, knows who's trustworthy and who's not."

The rat sat up straighter, her thick, fleshy tail whipping aside. Her fur was a bit more matted than Herkimer's soft, mousey pelt. "Right. There's a freighter run by prey. The Reverie. Captain Peregrine. Commander Talkeetna. They've agreed to be our main couriers."

"At what price?" Sheila asked, ever one to be suspicious of fine print.

"When we get the station up and running again, they want to use it as a port of call."

"Which means they'll be under our protection, security-wise," the hare said.

"It's a good deal for the both of us. They'll also want repairs when needed. But we can trust them not to tamper with our cargo and deliver it on time."

"How are we buying these 'supplies'?" Advent demanded. "Is the High Command paying for all this? I thought they didn't have a currency-based economy. That they were 'enlightened' and all that."

"Like the Federation," Barrow taunted. Advent should know that. Assuming she was actually a Federation citizen. Not being able to read either her or Sheila's minds, the bat couldn't be sure if the hare knew the jaguar from her Federation days or her time in the UT. He was guessing it was the latter. Which meant Advent was probably a hired gun for the Federation. Damn diplomats. The High Command never should've allowed the Federation to get their paws on this mission. Never mind that peaceful relations involved compromise.

"I'll take care of the methods of exchange," Graham told the feline, not exactly answering the question. It was too complicated to get into. And he wanted this meeting to be short.

"I've not done a detailed investigation of the station's power core," Seward, the engineer, said, "but it looks to be in a weakened state. Only half the rooms on the station have life support. Mostly in our area. Not to mention the sorry state of the docking pylons. Did this station used to orbit something?"

"A nearby planet," Graham confirmed. "About half an hour away. You can see it from the station." But since the station turned in a slow orbit, itself, the planet was currently out of view."

Seward continued, "It seems they were mining something. Or maybe it was mined and hauled here for processing? There's chemical traces and debris everywhere. It's going to require quite a clean up."

"That's where Herkimer comes in. He's in charge of 'daily operations.' And mouses are famous for their tidiness."

The grey-furred mouse smiled, looking around innocently. He had bright blue eyes and twitchy whiskers. "Of course, I can't do it alone. I'll need everyone else to help me. But I'll supervise."

Seward lowered his head, self-consciously. He wasn't able to lift heavy things under his own power anymore. Not for a while. Not with a severely weakened leg. He probably wouldn't be of much use in restoring the station's appearance ...

Sheila noticed Seward's body language. But looked away, quickly.

"What exactly," Seldovia asked, idly combing at her forearm fur with her perfectly-filed claws, "is this station doing here, anyway? Who built it?"

"An avian species," Graham responded. He'd just told this to Aria and the newcomers, but he didn't mind repeating it. "They vanished without warning some time ago."

"And this doesn't bother anyone?" the skunk asked. "I mean, what if the same thing happens to us?"

"I don't think it's likely," Graham assured. "There's surely a logical explanation for their departure."

"Well, life isn't logical, is it," the skunk whispered, darkly. She was slightly paranoid. Her father had been assassinated in a coup. Her mother taken hostage in the same uprising. She'd been lucky to escape with her life. She was always looking over her shoulder, waiting to be caught. Bad luck seemed to follow her.

"If we have any problems, Captain Aria and the Arctic will be nearby, and they'll come to our aid."

"My ship is a new class," Aria told them. "One of the fastest in the fleet. And with more firepower than her size would indicate."

Annika injected, quickly, "Something we won't need in the presence of good diplomacy."

"I'm sure," Aria replied, unconvinced.

"Me, too," Barrow insisted, eying the ambassador's supple breasts.

Annika's ears twiddled, slightly. "We've been through enough wars already. No need to keep fighting."

"Fighting's inevitable," Advent said. "It's part of nature."

"Well, regardless, we're in good paws no matter what comes up. Agreed?" Graham said, moving from behind Aria's chair to behind Annika's. He put his paws on her shoulders, rubbing them in a way that only a lover could get away with. "Good. Now, we may also be getting visits from other High Command vessels, too, once we get this place up and running. The UT is largely unexplored. And if the High Command is able to start forming a map of it, well ... it would make things easier for all of us."

Barrow wondered if this meant Luminous would ever swing this way once their diplomatic assignments wrapped up. He'd like to catch up with some of the crew. Like his fellow bat, Adelaide. Even if she'd allowed that harvest mouse to knock her up.

After a bit more talking, Graham finally dismissed them, telling them to take it easy for the day, get acquainted with the place, as Aria said Arctic's crew would take care of unloading all the cargo. They'd get 'down and dirty' on everything tomorrow, Graham said. Coming from a rabbit, that might've been an innuendo.

Most everyone filed out of the ward room, but the jaguar, Advent, remained in her seat.

Sheila lingered behind, too, giving Barrow a demanding look.

He blinked. She wanted his presence. As backup or a friend?

"Advent," the hare said, when they were alone, ears standing rigid atop her head.

"Who's the winged thing?"

"I believe Commander Graham introduced him."

"Oh, I know his name. But what's he to you?" The jaguar gave the blue-furred bat a hungry look-over. "Mate? Pet?" A smirking pause. "Toy?"

"That's none of your business."

"I hope you'll remember that when he's giving me my monthly physical," she purred. "I think you know as well as I that, in space, everything is everyone's business. You can't keep secrets on ships or stations. They don't travel in a vacuum. Only through corridors."

"Then I could ask you the same questions about Herkimer."

"Him? He's my new flame," the jaguar bragged, of the silent, submissive mouse.

"You mean 'conquest,' don't you?" Sheila replied, without delay.

"Funny, coming from Captain Pyro's concubine."

The silver hare scowled.

"Excuse me: 'Captain's Femme.' Is that more polite? How is ol' Red Eyes, anyway? Last I heard the 'Red Rocket' was destroyed by wasps. Sure you aren't a ghost? Be lenient. I repent!" she mocked.

"Pyro's alive and kicking," Sheila said, evenly, refusing to be baited.

"Ah, but not with you," the feline pointed out, shaking her head in faux sympathy. If she was surprised, she didn't show it. "Guess he found someone better. Not all pussy's created equal, huh?" She had a way of making insults seem so casual.

Sheila fumed, ears quivering.

"I can't help but notice, as a practiced physician," Barrow said, inserting himself into the conversation, and buying the hare some time to cool down, "that our mousey friend has a few nicks on his pelt. And a few bruises along his ears."

"So?" A casual shrug. "I like to nibble on them from time to time. They're erogenous. He likes it."

"Does he," the bat replied, unconvinced.

"You shouldn't judge, bat. It's well-known that your species loves to bite."

"Our bites are painless. They don't leave wounds." Because of special enzymes released into bats' saliva during intercourse that, when applied to the spot of the bite, provided both a numbing and healing agent.

"If you say so. How can one trust the word of a rogue? Oh, that's right," she remembered, dryly. "You rescued our hides. I'll sing you my hosannas later."

Barrow shook his head. Advent was nothing like Assumpta. The snow leopard, in spite of her aloofness, had been genial and open-minded. Advent was clearly on some kind of power trip. I may have an ego, the bat thought, but at least I'm aware of it. She isn't.

"I don't remember you being a Federation citizen," a composed Sheila mentioned, suspiciously.

"You want to see proof?"

"I doubt you've ever been in Federation space. I bet the predatory faction of the Council put out feelers in the UT, wanting to conscript a local to work for them. They don't want to risk their own hides and resources on a potentially doomed UT mission." A pause. "What are you getting in return?"

"That would be telling."

"Does Captain Graham know?"

"I'm sure he does. Snow rabbits are prone to 'logic' or some other rational nonsense. So they claim. But I am a legal Federation citizen. Just like you. That's all that matters."

"I'm a High Command citizen, now."

"Oh?"

"I thought you had your own ship. Wasps get yours, too?" the hare continued, evasively.

"A series of unfortunate incidents left me in a vulnerable position," Advent explained, carefully. Her tail slowly veered about, ears pinning down. As a predator, it wasn't in her nature to reveal too much. She didn't want to appear weak.

"That's why you're in bed with the Federation. You're desperate. They're going to give you a replacement ship, aren't they?"

"Maybe. If all goes well."

"If you try to sabotage this mission ... "

"Oh, relax, rabbit ... "

" ... hare," Sheila growled.

"Hare. Right. There's such a huge difference." Advent smiled, toothily. "I want this endeavor to succeed. It's in everyone's benefit to have a listening post out here. Not only for security, but as a jumping point for exploration. A place for controlled commerce. It's all so saccharine, I know, but ... if I can help make this happen, I get my little ship from the Federation, and I can go my merry way. Everyone wins."

"Then let's hope we're on the fast track to success," the hare whispered.

"Yes. Let's."

Sheila turned to leave, pausing as the door parted for her. She gave a look at Barrow.

The bat nodded, reminding the jaguar, "You may have been trained in telepathic evasion, but I can read Herkimer's thoughts just fine."

The feline turned serious, giving a shrug. She hadn't considered that. But, still, "He's my mouse."

"As chief medical officer, I have the authority to relieve anyone of duty if I think their health is in question. Or," he added, "if they are causing someone else's health to be in question."

Advent clenched her jaw, angrily. "Makes sense you'd fuck him, Sheila. You always had an inexplicable taste for cocky-ass males."

The hare didn't respond, as if she didn't want to verbally acknowledge that she was sleeping with the bat. Even though it was obvious. Everyone knew it. She was a newer, tougher, more independent fur, after all she'd been through. She wasn't supposed to 'need' anyone, even for fun. Right?

"Don't get between a predator and her prey. That goes for the both of you," Advent warned. "It's a very instinctual relationship. You're more like a predator than you care to admit," she told the hare. "You don't like your personal life messed with. So don't mess with mine. You or your bat."

"I'm chief of security. If you become a threat to anyone, you're gonna get messed with."

"An idle threat, and we both know it," Advent said, standing up and approaching her. They were about the same height. Sheila was taller with the ears. "I look forward to working with you, 'old friend'." A dangerous purr as she slinked past and out the still-open door.

Barrow remained quiet for a moment.

Sheila moved back into the room, the door shutting. He was waiting for an explanation, so she gave it, sighing heavily. "Advent captained another freighter. Back when I was in the UT. She sometimes competed with Pyro for assignments and resources. It wasn't a friendly rivalry. There was a lot of backstabbing going on."

"I gathered as much," the bat whispered. He also knew there was a lot more to the story, but that Sheila wasn't in the mood to tell it all. "You shouldn't let her get to you. You're stronger than her."

"What makes you say that?" she whispered back.

"I just feel it." A pause. "I'd take you in a dark corner any day."

Sheila allowed a sly, little smile. "I know what you meant just then. But that didn't come out quite right ... "

"Didn't it?" The bat winked, playfully.

The hare looked away, then turned toward the door again. It opened for her. She left. Barrow smiled, himself, and quietly followed.

Seward limped down the hallway, trying not to use his cane. But he had to. He felt liable to topple over without it. The doctors had assured him that his right leg would get better with time. A few months. He hoped so. The injury drew attention. Furs felt sorry for him. He could see it in their eyes.

That's why he'd taken this assignment. He wanted to go far away, forget all about the war, about the horrible accident during the final, climactic battle that had killed the chief engineer on his ship, leaving him, the deputy chief, in charge but tapped beneath a piece of bulkhead, fire raging all around him, singing his fur. The flames, heat, and pain had merged into a single experience. He'd wanted to die.

The snow rabbit paused, closing his eyes and swallowing. His throat was dry. Snow rabbits were a calm, collected sort by nature. He relied heavily on that genetic heritage to get him through this. All his friends had been killed. Only five rabbits from his ship had even made it off alive. He'd been carried to an escape pod by someone. He didn't remember their name, or even their face. His rescuer was gone by the time he woke up three days later in the infirmary on one of the orbital stations.

Clearing his head, he continued down the corridor. He'd gone to Ops after the meeting. Seldovia and Petra had been there, chatting idly. He'd remained quiet, circling the exterior. Checked a few things at the engineering station. But since they'd been dismissed for today, he was just gonna go to his quarters, ultimately. Try and make them presentable. Maybe even relax. If the holo-suites had been working, he would've gone there. Holograms wouldn't judge him. They wouldn't feel sorry for him. They'd just make him feel good. That's what they were programmed to do. He'd have to ask the Commander if he could move that up the priority list. Surely, his fellow snow rabbit would understand.

He was thinking about these things when he saw Sheila crouched down, peering into an access tube. It was about fifteen minutes after she'd left the ward room with Barrow, but the bat was nowhere to be seen.

"Something wrong, lieutenant-commander?"

The sterling hare's ears twiddled, sharply. Without looking up, she said, in a slow, distracted drawl, "No. No ... just checking for booby traps."

Seward blinked. "Why?"

"I spent several months in the UT. Our ship, the Red Rocket, visited several abandoned facilities. Most of them had been booby trapped."

"Even though the residents weren't coming back?"

She shrugged and put the hatch back on the wall, sealing the tunnel. Brushing herself off, the hare hopped up. "That's just how furs are out here."

"An awfully cynical view. Even for a security officer."

"It's pragmatism."

"Whatever you wish to call it," Seward told her, leaning on his cane, "it etches a permanent scowl on your face. I haven't seen you smile once since you arrived."

"I smiled just a while ago," she insisted.

"I wish I could've seen it," he replied.

Sheila hesitated. Was he flirting with her? It was hard to tell. When Barrow flirted, it was, indeed, cocky, even over-obvious. Seward seemed like such a gentle-fur in comparison. Which would've been par for the course with snow rabbits. They had a certain refinement to them that regular rabbits may have lacked. "I could say the same about you," she eventually said. "I haven't seen you smile, either."

"My species," he said, "is known for our emotional restraint."

"That's the company line, sure. But we both know better. You're holding back even more than Graham, Aria, and the others."

Seward looked around self-consciously. Before his injuries, he'd considered himself to be very laid-back. But he'd felt constant anxiety since the battle. Bubbling beneath his frozen veneer. "Lieutenant ... Sheila," he corrected, evenly. "If you wish, when I get the internal sensor grid fully functional, I will do a detailed scan for traps. It would be much safer than searching for them manually."

"They aren't always physical. The computer itself could be bugged. Don't bring up all the systems at the same time. You risk infecting the whole thing if you do." She paused. "I should be there to supervise."

"I'm a trained engineer."

"I like to cover my bases," she insisted. "I'm not questioning your skill."

"Very well. Though you cannot give me orders." She didn't outrank him. They were both lieutenant-commanders.

"Just giving you my expert advice."

The snow rabbit nodded. "Well. Thank you." To her credit, she hadn't looked at him with any amount of pity. She must've known he'd been injured in combat, but she hadn't stared at his leg or anything. She must've been injured herself during the war. Must've known what it was like. He could see it in her eyes. Empathy. "I appreciate it."

"Yep." It was a clipped, guarded response, the kind she made when emotional moments began to crop up. She spun on a big, bare foot-paw, about to lope off.

"Sheila?"

The hare looked over her shoulder.

"You and Doctor Barrow ... "

She made a face, anticipating the question.

" ... you fought in the war?"

A hesitation. That wasn't what she'd been expecting. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Not quite. I mean, he did. The bats, as you know, used their telepathy to disrupt the Queen's hold on her drones."

"Yes. We had some on our ship."

"Were they as cocky as Barrow?"

"They were nice." A pause. "But they are all dead."

A pained look flashed across the hare's silver-furred face. Her whiskers drooped. "I was a prisoner of the wasps, myself. I would've rather fought and died than endure what I did."

"I would've said the same when I woke up after my injury. I looked awful. Half my fur had burnt off. They had to stimulate the follicles. It's mostly back. A few spots that aren't visible, though, are still a bit short, but ... " He realized he was rambling. "And then my leg. It broke. Every bone in it."

The hare looked away. "That's only physical, though." Eyes meeting his, again, she told him, "Mental pain can be just as bad."

"It can. But, in retrospect, I'm glad to be alive. Even if, at the time ... " He let that hang, darkly. "After all, what's the alternative?"

She nodded, clearing her throat weakly. "I'm gonna check out my quarters. I haven't been there yet."

"Aren't you and Barrow sharing?"

"Not permanently. Our arrangement is ... " Her turn to trail off. She didn't know how to explain it without sounding like a slut.

"I'm a snow rabbit, Sheila. Our species is notorious for open breeding. You needn't be embarrassed."

"I'm not."

He just tilted his head. "When I work on the computer core, I'll let you know."

"Thanks." A hesitation. Then a nod, and she loped off.

Seward, left on his own, limped the rest of the way to his quarters. Wishing those holo-suites were up. Even though he was tired. He'd never tried a hare before ...

"So, you like communicatin' an' all that?" Petra asked, trying to blow at her own whiskers.

"Apparently."

"You don't sound too convinced."

"Well, it's not a passion or anything. I grew up in a royal family on a turbulent world, as you probably know by now," Seldovia replied. She and the rat were lingering in Ops. Seeing what worked and what didn't. And, besides, neither had anything better to do. The station's control center, like everywhere else, was quiet, dusty, and dark. The holo-suites were offline. The computer was on the fritz. This place was boring as hell, to be honest. At least for now. Hopefully, that would change.

"I over heard as much, yeah."

"There was a coup," Seldovia explained, quietly. "It was violent. I've been on the run for a while, now. The only way to communicate with anyone back home is through coded message. You could say I'm self-taught at 'communications.' I even know how to eavesdrop on secure channels." She lowered her paws and swished her glamorous stripe-tail. "I heard about the High Command's plans for this place. I knew they didn't want to staff it entirely with snow rabbits. They wanted some locals. So, I managed to get my name in."

"An' how'd you do that?" the rat asked.

"Not how you think."

"You're pretty enough for it. Far prettier 'n me."

"You can be attractive and not be traditionally pretty, you know." A pause, tilting her head. "How'd you get your name in, then?"

"I'm stubborn. An' persistent."

The skunk smiled. "No kidding?"

The rat smirked. "Yeah." The expression faded as she looked around. "Guess this place is for lost souls, though. We're all here cause we seem to have nowhere else to go."

"That why you're here, then?" the skunk asked. "Necessity?"

"I didn't grow up in privilege like you. I've always been poor." She paused, not wanting to talk about it. "Nothin' is ever easy, but workin' for a respected government like the High Command, one who's won a whole share o' wars ... I mean, that's a nobler, safer bet than working for pirates. Or the Syndicate. Which is pretty much what I was doin' ... "

"I heard the Syndicate doesn't let its workers leave."

"Not generally."

"So, how'd you get out?"

"You don't wanna know," the rat said, darkly.

Seldovia nodded and decided to change the subject. "Maybe I'm oblivious, but I never knew this place existed until a few weeks ago. I mean, like I said, I'm an expert at eavesdropping and sorting through comm-traffic, and I intercepted the High Command's open request for indigenous help, but ... I mean, it was a surprise to me. Especially when I got here. This place is huge. And ancient."

"Yeah ... been round for generations. When I was a pup, this place was here, an' I saw it a few times in passing. I would hear stories about it, too. Strange stories ... no one who's been here stays for long. They all vanish or leave."

"Why's that?"

"Cursed, maybe."

"You seriously don't believe that?" the skunk asked.

"I'm open to anything."

The skunk sighed. Then blinked. "Pup? That's what baby rats are called?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. Just didn't know that." The skunk hopped onto a computer console, sitting there and kicking her foot-paws a bit. "Young skunks are 'kits'."

"Well, I don't honestly care what young are called. I'm certainly not havin' any."

"Ever?"

"I'm too rough an' tumble for it."

"I always assumed I'd mate a handsome skunk from another royal family. We'd have little princes and princesses. I mean, it was a given. Children were an obligation. That's how you extend the lineage. Now, the lineage doesn't matter so much. Except for personal reasons. But ... I've not met my prince yet, you know? And I don't mean a literal prince anymore. Just any cultured male would do."

The rat made a face. "Sounds boring."

The skunk scrunched her muzzle. "You're just being difficult. Don't tell me you never had dreams of romance?"

"Can't say I have."

"So, you've never been in love?"

"I'd rather screw," Petra said, simply.

"Living up to your reputation, then."

"Meaning?"

A sigh. "Nothing."

"Uh-huh."

"Just that rats are known to be a bit crude."

"Ah, it's all comin' out, now, is it?"

"I'm just saying ... "

"Well, we're not sweet an' sugary mouses," she explained, defiantly. "As a rule. An' I like it."

The skunk nodded. "I just wish life was more formal, that's all. That's part of the appeal of being here, for me. To formalize this place. Brush out the chaos."

"If you get too sanitized, princess, you'll lose your edge."

"Maybe."

"Definitely," the rat insisted.

Seldovia hopped off the console and padded around a bit. "Well, I wanna go to my quarters." She paused, looking to Petra and saying, "I know we were born on different sides of the tracks, as it were, but I can't think of any reason we shouldn't be friends."

"That's because you don't know me yet," Petra told her, shuffling past her and into the lift.

"It's a good thing I don't believe in ghosts," Aria told Graham, as they strolled the darkened Promande together. Bare foot-paws leaving dusty prints. The shops were empty, doors shut. There were storage areas, too, and corridors that led to here and there. "This place is ripe to be haunted."

"Once we get all the lights working, it'll be less intimidating," the other snow rabbit assured. "A sensor sweep will reveal we're the only furs aboard. Our crew, I mean."

She nodded, stopping at a railing overlooking a lower level. "My last assignment was a station. The architecture might be different here, but there's still a certain 'feeling' about it. One you don't get on a ship." She paused, then asked, "Is it odd to think one can grow roots in a vacuum?"

"In space?" Graham clarified.

She nodded.

"Sounds reasonable enough to me. That's why we're all here, isn't it? We're restless. We're dreamers. There's an entire universe out here, and we have the capability to explore it, even if it's only an insignificant fraction of it. Hard to pass that up."

"It's never been about exploration for me, though. It's been about taming a wilderness," Aria said, quietly. "Settling a frontier."

"And once it's settled?"

"Then one moves to the next frontier. That's the most appealing thing about space. The frontiers are infinite."

"That they are."

"This is actually the furthest I've been from home," Aria admitted, turning to the big, sweeping windows. "I hope those aren't just glass. As old as this place is."

"They are reinforced on both sides by force-fields. And there are backups to the backups in case they go down. They run on an independent system. I had Seward check."

"So, I gather you're breeding the Ambassador," Aria said, suddenly.

Graham blinked. "Annika?"

"She's pretty."

"So are you," he insisted, warmly.

"You're trying to change the subject." But she was flattered, nonetheless.

"I'm just surprised you know about it. Unless ... " The bat. He was telepathic. Of course. "He told you?"

"I suspected. He merely confirmed it."

"Are you teasing me or congratulating me?"

"Both, I suppose." A slight smile.

"Do you have a mate, yourself?" he asked.

"I do."

"Well, I should like to meet him. You should have dinner with Annika and I. Tonight, even. You're not leaving yet, are you?"

"We don't necessarily have to. I could delay our departure 'til morning."

"Please do. We're going to be working closely with each other. Might as well become friendly."

"I'm not averse to a little friendship." She nodded, warmly. "Now, shall we continue the tour?"

"Well, I'm afraid I've yet to explore beyond this point, myself. Other than glancing at schematics. We may get lost. We may encounter those ghosts," he ribbed.

"I've a background in security. I'll give them a fight."

Giving her a sly, appreciative look-over, the commander said, "I'm sure you will."