Foe and Friend

Part III - Blockade Run

Written by Raziel

The massive structure of the orbit station was never silent. Its hallways, enormous loading halls and docking bays echoed with the sound of oxygen recyclers, the hum of machinery and the creaking of the superstructure as it fought against both the vacuum and the gravity of the planet below.

The isolation of working on the station alone could be maddening, as incidents in the past had proven. To alleviate these problems, the station was always a crew on board. A skeleton crew if there ever was one, but it significantly lowered the losses caused by episodes of cabin fever.

However, the crew was much too busy to worry about anything like that. Their eyes darted across the holographic displays showing an images of crisscrossed route plots, ships waiting for their cargo, or ships waiting to deliver their payload.

One of the techs sighed, wondering how it'd be possible to deal with a high-traffic orbit station when they were so busy already despite the low number of ships. The blockade of the planet below was more of a symbolic gesture; the Xeno's on the planet did not have spacefaring technology, so why waste the manpower and equipment?

He'd heard about real blockades from colleagues in-between posts, where hundreds of ships would hover around a planet, their traffic lights and bulk completely blocking sight of the real stars from observers on the planet's surface.

A red flash pulled him back to the here and now, eyes once again darting across the screens and his heart pounding in his chest at the possibility that he missed something. His eyes found no ships on collision courses with the station or each other, the automated cargo-system was working perfectly fine.

A voice came from beside him "What's going on?"

He didn't look away from his screens. "Don't know. Nothing's wrong as far as I can see, maybe a fluke, a false positive or something."

She nodded. "Have you pulled the logs to see?"

He blinked a few times, and then let his breath hiss between his teeth.

I should've thought of that.

His arms made quick, measured gestures. The screens responded by opening the alerts log. The most recent alerts were conveniently at the top, and his eyes were drawn to the very top of the list.

"That's...odd."

"What?"

"According to this, one of the containers wasn't locked properly."

His fellow tech didn't shrug, lest the holographic interface interpret it as a gesture.

"So? Wouldn't be the first time those jarheads down below screw up the seals."

"Yeah, but...how did it reseal itself?"

"In that case, maybe you were right, and it was just a false positive."

He sat quietly, motionlessly, staring at the display.

"I'm making a scan, just to be sure. If the 'fleet' out here sticks to the planned roster, there shouldn't be any problems. "

"As long as you sign off. I'm not getting it in the neck because you're not keeping an eye out."

"And I'm sending someone to the bays to check. I think Rosevich is on duty?"

"He should be."

His fingers drummed on the armrest of his chair. "I'm going to have him check that container, too. Put it on hold for me, will you? I just swiped the ID code to your station."

Rosevich always got the creeps on postings like this; he preferred security work on an actual ship, where you actually ran into people for a chat. Here, it seemed like his only companion was the echo of his boots on the floor- grating of the hallways. It was dark; the station was working on minimal lighting and life-support to save power. As he considered it, he became aware of the dry air and it's strange flavor. The dim lighting only offered pools of cold, white illumination, surrounded by the dark shadows of support struts. Still, the way the fleet handled things on occasion, he felt he should be grateful that they allowed the use of artificial gravity. In the distance, he could hear the consistent rhythm of the loading system in the bay. A series of clunks, whirs and hisses that repeated itself again and again. The noise became louder as he closed in. He turned the corner and could see the door to the bay ahead. He was hoping there was more lighting in the bay. Then he shivered as an old, primal instinct surfaced; the clear feeling of being watched. He reached for his baton, and then reconsidered and took a hold of his service-pistol. Rosevich knew that the weapon was loaded with station-ammo. Less propellant, less power, but less chance of ricochet and collateral damage.

His hand firmly on the pistol, he touched the keypad next to the door, making it hiss open. Used to the relative silence of the station, the noise from the loading bay hit him like a physical wall, staggering him. Not wanting to waste time, he walked in. He navigated the poorly-lit catwalks with practiced ease until he reached the 'hold' queue. It was currently occupied by a single container.

It opened easily and something instantly made him feel suspicious; there was always a slight difference in atmosphere in these containers after transport. There wasn't even a small gust; the atmosphere in the container had already been equalized with the station. He considered a bad lock or seal, but even then there'd be a difference because of the trip through near-hard vacuum.

Rosevich took his firearm, and peered inside the container, the flashlight below the barrel flashing across the cargo. The beam caught something; some curious, discoloured spots that were revealed to be spilled liquids after a closer look. And then he noticed the strange glow emanating from behind a secured crate. It was a glowstick that had no reason to be there.

His boots clanged heavily on the catwalks until he reached the exit, and he cursed heavily when he saw the panel on this side; a simple, open-close touchpad.

"I told them these doors needed to be locked both ways, dammit!"

He went outside and entered some commands on the keypad until a small holo-display appeared. Checking the door's log, his fears were confirmed: the door had been opened from the inside before he had even entered the bay. His hand reached for the in-ear radio.

Back in the control-center the tech, Laydon, flinched from the loud stream of dialogue interspersed with curses.

"Rosevich, calm down. So what? We have an infiltrator on the station?"

"I don't fucking know! Someone used that container to transport themselves up here. Unless you think it's the Fleet's newest cost-saving manner of sending a new shift, there's no good reason for anyone to do that. Deserters or something."

Laydon nodded, his mouth suddenly dry from more than the stale, recycled air alone.

"I'll..."

Suddenly, an alarm lit up on his display and he instantly recognized the number-and-letter combination. Unplanned launch of a shuttlecraft.

"Shit...Andrea, what's the closest ship right now?"

"The Dies Irae...a Hecatonchires-class."

He sighed in relief. "Good, patch me through to them. And warm up the DNA-sniffers; I'm sure they'll want us to use them, but I'm not sure if they want them set to lethal response or not. I want you to try to follow the shuttle."

Somewhere deep within the station, cold, blue lights lit up, followed by a high-pitched whir that would make the hairs of anyone who heard it stand on end. Small tracks rattled on the grating as it exited it's alcove. A waypoint told it where to go.

Rosevich held his breath and pressed himself up to the wall as the sniffer walked by him; too often had he heard stories of the things having a glitch and starting to attack anyone. Or latching on to the wrong DNA. That it looked like a near-harmless, tracked metal box didn't help either. They were fast enough that running would be pointless and were lethally accurate with their poison darts even if you did manage to outrun them somehow.

The hum of the sniffer changed, becoming deeper as it searched for DNA. Unsurprisingly, it quickly found its way to the strange strains on the floor.

"Crap, I can't find the goddamn shuttle!" She struggled with the sudden urge to hit the display.

"Stay calm, Andrea. If you can't see them, they must be close. Shuttles aren't THAT fast. "I knew we needed more ships for a proper blockade!"

"Just for something incidental like this? Come on. We did our job; it's those assholes down below that made the biggest fuck-up. Station's in the middle of the base and still someone manages to get in and use it to get offworld. They found some idiot guard called Carver knocked out and tied up. Guy can't remember anything, claims he was blindsided."

"Probably because he wasn't paying attention. Or high. Or both."

Suddenly Andrea seemed otherwise occupied, her head cocked slightly as if listening to something.

"Dies Irae arriving now."

The Hecatonchires-class cruiser slid through the noiseless vacuum of space, lighted by the harsh beams of the system's sun. The gun-emplacements cut sharp shadows across the hull. It was looking for prey, scanners caressing everything within their reach. Close by, pieces of rubble spun majestically in the void; the consequences of two Piranha-fighters colliding during a patrol. Cleanup at this point had been deemed low-priority as both vessels were total losses. The orbit-station of the space elevator was abuzz with activity compared to its usual tomblike silence.

More reports started coming in from the planet around the same time as the base was scrutinized. Updates flashed across Laydon's screen and he shook his head in response.

"Christ, they really don't hire them based on intelligence, do they?"

Andrea let out a short chuckle. "I'd think that's obvious, but what makes you say that?"

Laydon sighed. "Well, it sounds like a base was wiped out a few hours ago, and apparently someone has used that to commit desertion. Sent a message to the base that they didn't need help at the time, drove a stolen transport to the main base and was allowed access without them even checking if he was from the base where he said he was from."

He paused a moment as a new update came through.

"Oh, and he managed to kill two soldiers in the base, too. They were found near said stolen transport. "

"Wow...do we have an ID?"

"Not yet, apparently the image from the base camera didn't properly show his face. Our sniffers got a good sample though, it's being run through the personnel log as we speak.

"What are they doing about it down below?"

"Repressing the crap out of it, of course. You know how they are with desertion."

"As long as it doesn't cost them too much."

Suddenly, a harsh noise was emitted by his system as the display flashed red. Laydon stared at it in bewilderment for a few seconds.

"What the hell? They cut me off! I'm supposed to update them on sniffer findings, but they cut me off from the planetside feed!"

"I think you said something about 'repressing'?"

"No shit..."

A shrill tone started to beep in Laydon's ear, someone was trying to contact him directly. Andrea glanced at him as he nodded, and then his face started to turn pale white. His expression was one of incomprehension, then a brief moment of fear followed by bitter resignation.

"Fine...fuckers."

Andrea knew better than to ask, and instead relayed information.

"I think I have an ID, yeah, high-percentage match."

"Ah, and who is it?"

"Samuel Wallcroft, Private first class. Assumed dead after his unit was wiped out in a skirmish. Guess it wasn't."

"Keep the sniffers online, just in case the shuttle was some kind of ruse. With a skeleton crew, this station is easily big enough to hide out in until things calm down."

"As you say, boss."

Laydon didn't mention he was changing some parameters on the sniffers. It was better if she didn't know. His finger hovered over the display, and then he hit 'record'.

"Sorry, man." He whispered under his breath.

Andrea glanced at him, wondering if she heard Laydon say something before going back to keeping the waiting ships in line. Even during situations like this, the station had to be kept running.

The sniffer suddenly changed direction, like a bloodhound latching on to a different prey. The fresh trail was easy to follow in the absence of others. It zoomed through the passageways and the trail it was following became stronger, more recent. Old sweatdrop here, flaked off skin cells, lost hairs, foodcrumbs with saliva. People left a lot of them behind, more than they ever realized and more than a sniffer needed to follow.

Rosevich felt ill-at-ease. The order to check this area of the station seemed odd; the door hadn't been accessed at all for at least a month, when the last security sweep had passed through. He knew, because he'd been the one doing the sweep.

He spun around when he heard the distant noise. It was there for only a moment, but clear as day. Patrolling by himself at all times, he'd learned to know the odd sounds of the station, and this was certainly not one of those.

Except for the pounding of his own heart, and his breathing echoing through the hallway, nothing made any sounds in the abandoned hallway. He scratched his head and sighed.

"I'm getting paranoid."

Near-identical hallways zoomed by from the perspective of the sniffer. Now, it was constantly moving at top speed, and the trail had become warm enough that it could estimate how long ago its prey had passed by. A door opened for it automatically as the respective control systems communicated.

"Donovan? That you?"

Rosevich was sure he'd heard the door open and close. Nothing else quite sounded like it. He reached for his pistol once again and clicked on the flashlight, shining it down the hall. He heard it before he saw it. The high-pitched clatter of tracks on metal. He recognized it.

They found him here? On the station?

The sniffer rounded the corner and Rosevich's instincts instantly snapped into overdrive. He could see that it was coming right at him. He saw the lights turn red. He felt distant when he pulled the trigger, as if it wasn't him doing it.

The shots were deafening in the hallway and the bullets clattered harmlessly off the reinforced casing of the sniffer.

Tears flowed over his cheeks as Rosevich kept pulling the trigger in a panic, panting and gasping.

"No, you fucking bastards! NOT ME!"

The slide on his pistol snapped backwards and he gasped, fumbling the weapon. He turned around and ran, ran as hard as he could. Behind him, something on the reinforced casing clicked open. There was a hiss of compressed air and Rosevich felt a slight sting in his thigh. Panic engulfed him instantly and then it was like he was stabbed in the gut, twisting the blade as it went.

Laydon saw it all happening from the perspective of the sniffer. Rosevich collapsed to the floor screaming in surprise, pain and despair. He vomited and voided himself in every way his body could, and then the bleeding started. Laydon closed his eyes and terminated the sound to his headset, he didn't want to see the rest. When he opened his eyes again, the sniffer was enroute to its alcove, its job done. He sent the recording to command and never said anything to Andrea.

"Laydon...are you okay? You look awful."

"I feel a bit under the weather, maybe I'm not used to stress anymore."

Suddenly a new update popped up on all their screens.

"Hey, they got him!"

Laydon nodded. "Yeah...it looks like it."

They always moved fast in cases like this...make sure the grunts know that desertion just gets you horribly killed.

Down on the planet, the same update flashed across screens and head-up displays, overriding anything else. Most had no idea there even had been a desertion, but apparently command had and dealt with it the way they always did; terrible retribution. At the command building itself, General Martense stared at the data-slide that had been handed to him.

"You're certain of this?"

The meditech in the white uniform nodded.

"We ran it a few times because we thought it was strange that we weren't getting any hits. When we kept a closer eye on the process, we realized that it wasn't human DNA at all."

"But the other was?"

"Yes sir, we're as sure as we can be that the donor of that DNA was Wallcroft."

The General grumbled. Not just a deserter, but a goddamn traitor to his own kind.

"Make sure this is the only copy of it, understand? Follow that order like a good boy, and I promise that your career will get a well-earned boost. Perhaps, being stationed on good old Earth."

The meditech nodded and left the room. He felt glad that he hadn't told the general everything. He didn't want to know what kind of row he'd have made if he'd told him that the liquids found weren't just sweat. He shuddered at the implication of it.

In orbit, on the bridge of the Dies Irae, Commander Wrye could only feel frustration at the order he was receiving.

As if we aren't trying everything we can right now.

He turned away from the console. "Another sweep, full scanners. And be careful of those wrecks, last thing we need as this point is damage that needs repairing."

We don't have enough vessels for a proper blockade as-is, let alone if we wind up needing repairs.

There was only the silence of the hard vacuum as the miles-long Dies Irae passed by the twisted, partially disintegrated wreckage of the two Piranhas. It didn't notice the piece of wreckage that did not match the specifications of a fighter-vessel - scanners not set to look for that distinction. With everything switched off, the shuttle that drifted among the detritus was just another hunk of dead metal waiting for someone to have time to clean it up.

Samuel's breathing sounded hollow and it condensed on the inside of his mask; with life support turned off and no direct sunlight, the vessel was slowly but surely bleeding off heat to the vacuum. His eyes slid across the dark instrument panel, to the stars beyond, and then to his fellow deserter. She had an oxygen-mask designed for humans fit awkwardly on the tip of her nose. She seemed calm, calmer than he was. Her long mane drifted around her head, shifting and waving with every breath she took. She moved, the chair was uncomfortable, not made for someone with her physical attributes, but it was all they had and standing wasn't much of an option.

"They'll be out of range soon. I'll go 'passive' first to see if they're still listening. If they aren't, we can get moving again."

Risa nodded, sending an amplified wave through her weightless mane. "How do you know all that?"

As she spoke she tasted the stale air in the cockpit again, and resisted a shudder; used to fresh air as she was, the filtered and re-oxygenised mix she was breathing now already tasted strange, but the dead air that trickled into her nose here was something else entirely.

Samuel sighed and shook his head, as if he felt stupid simply telling the tale. "I actually have a class-XV license...unfortunately the army didn't need shuttle-pilots here so they re-purposed me as a grunt. Funny how things turn out, huh?"

Risa nodded outside. "Won't they hear us?"

"Vacuum, there's nothing to hear. And at this range, they won't pick up lifesigns either."

Outside, a piece of Piranha-wreckage drifted by languidly. It caught their eyes and they followed it along its path.

Samuel sighed again. Damn, can't believe how lucky we were with those wrecks still out here...would've been a nasty run when that alert came a lot sooner than expected.

His hand hovered over the control panel, and suddenly he felt a knot in his stomach. If they Dies Irae was too close, they'd register on the scanners and see them, and there'd be no way for them to start the shuttle and escape before being atomized. Samuel shifted to another panel, reaching for the switch to engage the reactor instead of checking for pings first. If they did see, maybe they'd be able to get clear and make the jump to the borderlands.

Risa followed Samuel's hands with her eyes. She could see them shaking and his body-language overall was uncertain. She nearly flinched when he suddenly reached out, quick as a striking serpent, and turned a switch with an audible snap. She shuttle began to shudder, coming back to life.

One by one, lights inside the cockpit switched on and brightened. The flight control system rattled as it booted and went through the usual checks and verifications. It spat out a radio and transponder error that didn't surprise Samuel at all, having ripped both of those out to prevent any signal from going out. Somewhat more palatable air began to circulate in the cabin, and the temperature stopped falling.

His eyes remained fixed on the gargantuan shape of the Dies Irae, straining his eyes to look for any sign of detection. The ship didn't turn, no weapons were suddenly whipping in their direction, no fighters were launched.

Risa followed Samuel's eyes and felt oddly amused; he was much more in his element here than she was. Here, she was certainly following him instead of the other way around. Even more amused, even surprised, was she at herself for feeling at ease with it.

She realized that Samuel looked away from the large ship that had passed them,now leaning forward to look past her, out the other side of the cockpit.

"Risa, do you see anything on your side? Anything moving?"

She looked and sighed. "Some small remnants, nothing else nearly as close-by as that vessel is."

Samuel nodded. "Okay...good. Well, I guess we should get moving, then."

"What do you intend?"

"I'm going to give the engine a quick boost to get moving, and then turn it off. Good thing about being in space is that you'll keep moving even if you turn everything off afterwards."

He sighed. I just hope that nobody notices.

Risa dug her claws into the armrests of the chair as Samuel tightened his grip around the throttle. He rammed it forwards and they were both pressed hard into their seats when the shuttle began to move, despite the inertial dampeners. The craft shuddered hard, the structure straining at the shifting forces. Samuel counted down, getting as much thrust out of it as he dared until they exited the debris-field from the crash. He snapped the throttle back and keyed an emergency shutdown. She shuttle immediately went dead again. The G-forces on him and Risa stopped and the lack of gravity instantly began playing with her mane once more. Sweat beaded on Samuel's forehead as he stared at the Dies Irae. A small drop formed a sphere as it detached from his nose.

Andrea still felt nauseous, having seen the footage from the sniffer that had found the deserter. It was sent through the entire stationed fleet and ground forces as a warning. Furthermore, the idea that the deserter had actually still been on the station shook her more than she'd thought it would. Who knows what could have happened if Laydon hadn't caught the problem with the container; the deserter had killed two soldiers already so what's a few techs matter to the bodycount?

Something appeared on her display, a quick flash of contact that vanished the instant she tried to focus on it. Andrea whispered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Hmmm. I thought I saw something, the whole incident with the deserter must have made me paranoid."

She didn't notice Laydon's flinching. "What did you think you saw?"

"A new engine signature on the scanner, but it's gone now. It was pretty close, so it might've been a fluke."

Laydon nodded. "I'll relay it to the Dies Irae. What's were the coordinates?"

Andrea looked at him incredulously. "I don't have any; it disappeared before I could focus on it. And why is it necessary? In fact, why are they still doing a search pattern? They got the guy!"

"I'm just following orders, alright!? Don't ask and do your job. If you don't have coordinates, just give me a quadrant."

Andrea angrily forwarded a quadrant to Laydon's display. He didn't look at her, instead focusing only on his own display to send a message to the cruiser outside. She knew something was wrong, but couldn't figure out what.

Samuel felt his heart skip a beat when the Dies Irae made a sudden turn, sliding through space to turn around with slow but inexorable momentum.

"She's turning too fast...damnit, someone noticed."

Risa could see the ship turn towards them, but to her eyes it seemed oddly devoid of purpose; as if it was turning around because it was told to, not because they had been noticed.

Samuel reached for the switch to the reactor and yelped when Risa's hand shot out and took his wrist in a grip of iron.

"Not yet."

"Risa, they'll atomize us if I don't get out. Not to mention that we'll drift right into its path!"

"And you think they won't if you do anything hasty now? We're committed to this course of action, now we will have to see where it goes. We will either live, or we will not. It is out of our hands and any action we do take might only speed us to our demise."

The silence was maddening, and Samuel couldn't understand how Risa remained so calm. He felt like his heart was going to explode from his chest and Risa just calmly looked out to the stars outside with a faint expression of wonder.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the bulk of the Dies Irae loom ever closer.

Commander Wrye looked at his tactical display, seeing the scanner pulses once again come up with nothing.

"It would be good if they'd been able to give coordinates instead of just 'quadrant 3, station-relative.'"

"Sorry, sir?"

"Nothing, just thinking aloud. Any returns?"

"No, sir."

Wrye looked at the operator closest to him, working the main panel to coordinate the search.

"It looks like you have something on your mind."

The operator cleared his throat. "Yes, I do, sir."

"Well then, what is it?"

"Sir...I was thinking about the Piranha wrecks from that accident a while ago. Those are pretty close to the station."

"Yes...so wh-" Wrye stopped cold when the realization hit.

In a way that he couldn't put his finger on, Samuel could see_something changed about the _Dies Irae, its course, its configuration all remained the same, but something was different about it. He swallowed uneasily; while his worries that the massive ship would crash into them turned out to be false, it would still be frighteningly close. Already, the shuttle began to creak in response to the gravity field that drew nearer.

On Dies Irae's bridge, Commander Wrye nodded.

"Vaporise them."

Samuel recognized the changing configuration of the cruiser instantly; it had found its target and a number of turrets turned to fire.

"They found us!"

Commander Wrye waited patiently for a response as the weapons were heating up, curious to see if there'd be a last attempt to run.

Andrea looked at her screen incredulously.

"What the hell are they doing out there?"

Laydon shook his head. "I don't know...I really don't. The only thing there are those wrecks."

They slowly turned their heads to each other as they realized.

"If they fire at this range, they'll..."

The switch snapped with a familiar sound, and the shuttle started to wind up. They'd be lit up like a nebula, but it was their only chance.

"Risa, if we don't make it, I'm sorry."

She shook her head, her mane cascading down as the artificial gravity took hold again.

"I am here by my own choice. No regrets."

From the planet's surface, it looked as though there was a second sun in the sky for a moment, as the shots of the Dies Irae struck their target with enough heat to shear component molecules apart. Another explosion lit up as energy escaped from a ruptured reactor and blew apart what the cannon-blasts had failed to. The orbit-station shook and the radiation blacked out their scanners, blinding Laydon and Andrea until the system could reset. Wrye smiled as he looked at the ball of dissipating energy through auto-opaqueing window that brought the brightness down to tolerable levels.

I'll never get enough of a sight like that.

It took a few moments for the system to reset, and the scanners found nothing but dust and radiation as they focused on the coordinates where the wrecks used to be.

"So much for that. Well done..."

It was then that Wrye caught a glint in his peripheral vision, the windows becoming clear again to notice it.

He struggled to keep his calm. "Fire solution. Now."

The force of acceleration overwhelmed the inertial dampeners, painfully crushing Samuel and Risa into their seats. Risa grit her teeth and dug her claws deep into the seating while Samuel struggled to keep his hands on the controls. The shuttle shuddered violently, the structure squealing in protest. He jerked back and forth on the control stick randomly, dodging and weaving and praying that it'd throw of the Dies Irae's targeting computers long enough to make it to jumpspace.

"The systems are still re-setting after that close-range detonation, sir!"

"I don't want to hear it, get them up now!"

The techs worked as fast as they could, cutting corners to speed up the process. The cannons were already charging, hoping they'd have a fire solution before they started overheating and cook the maintenance crew manning them alive.

Wrye's face shuddered with rage as his eyes followed the flitting, blue-white light of the shuttle's engines.

"System ready!"

"Fire!"

Stark white lances shot through the void and Samuel flinched away in reflex. It missed them by mere meters.

"Come on, come on!"

Samuel knew his erratic course would delay the calculations for the jump. What kept the enemy from targeting them, also kept them from making a quick jump. He took a chance.

Risa looked at him as he suddenly stabilized their course, sweat running down his face. When he spoke, his voice was tense, but controlled.

"They just fired, they can't fire again soon after...either we make the jump by then, or we're dead."

"Then let us hope for the former."

"Yeah."

Risa flinched when Samuel put his hand on hers and squeezed. She returned the gesture with a faint smile. Then her eyes locked into a stare of pure combat-concentration. She was tired of sitting passive, there had to be a way to help. She let the experience flow over her, opening her mind and body to be steered by reflexes honed by years of training and combat.

"Their course has stabilized sir, fire solution coming through."

"Don't bloody bother relaying it to me! Just fire when ready and wipe that traitor from existence!"

"Yes, sir!"

Outside, the cannons locked on to their target and then kept moving, intersecting the projected course of the rapidly accelerating shuttle. A direct hit was increasingly likely as the firing solution was refined. A deep hum coursed through the veins of the Dies Irae as the cannons charged for another, fatal volley.

The cannons fired. They seared the shield plates as the shuttle suddenly shifted upwards.

Samuel grunted at the sudden climb, leaving him in his seat perplexed before realizing Risa's hand was on the control stick with his.

"How did you..."

Risa didn't respond as she stared straight ahead, almost like she was in a trance. Her grip on his hand and the stick was unrelenting, painful even.

The world seemed to move in slow motion for Risa, extending her awareness. In a bare moment in that state, it was like she could feel a static discharge building up in the hull, she could feel it in the very tips of her fur.

The computers on both vessels were competing with each other; the shuttle in calculating a safe jump and the cruiser by calculating a new fire solution. Throngs of code scrolled across monitors and fingers hovered over buttons and triggers to respond the instant a green light was given. The cruiser aimed the next salvo in a spread so that the shuttle would simply dodge into another beam. In the shuttle, Samuel was breathing deeply in an attempt to repress his panic. He could feel the Dies Irae looming behind them, weapons charging that very instant. Risa was calm, too calm, it seemed. Almost as if she was elsewhere. There was a sudden flash on one of the monitors that she never noticed.

The Dies Irae fired the instant the new firing solution came through. The beams travelled the distance between the ships in an instant and intersected exactly on target. A flash of energy lit up the bridge again, stretching Wrye's shadow as he stood there with his arms tense behind his back and his jaw twitching. Silence ruled the bridge.

"Target lost." The tech turned away from his console with a smile. "We got them, sir!"

A weak round of celebration coursed through the bridge. Someone clapped, another one yelled half-heartedly. Wrye didn't turn away from the view outside.

"Move in, and confirm the kill. We're not taking any chances this time. Full scanners and keep your eyes open. I want everyone to report everything, even if you think it's just a ghost-return. Get to it."

The cruiser's massive engine roared and the giant mass of the ship began to move. Wrye stared out at the shrinking detonation like a statue. His hands clenched and loosened constantly, the frequency an indication of his growing unease and frustration.

"No wreckage detected, sir. There is a chance for smaller segments to show up as we close in."

Wrye didn't turn around as he spoke. "Or the shuttle was vaporized completely."

"I...yes, sir. That is a possibility with the amount of firepower we used."

"Good."

Instead of the black of the void, space now looked like a multicolored swirl that was drawn to a bright, pulsing sphere somewhere ahead of the shuttle. Samuel let his head rest with a deep breath.

"Made it...I can't believe we made it."

Risa still held the controller firmly, still staring outside with a chilling calm. Samuel could feel the pressure and saw the distant look in her eyes.

"Risa, you can let go. We're safe."

He rested his free hand on hers, fur tickling against his palm as he rubbed gently. Slowly, she started to blink and move again.

"There you go, back to the present."

It looked like a slow awakening, as if her mind had been elsewhere entirely and needed time to catch up. Her chest heaved with deep breaths as she settled, and her tail began to move slightly, small twitches that turned into a slow wagging.

"It's beautiful."

Samuel stared at her and then followed her perplexed gaze. He found a smile.

"Yeah, I guess it is rather pretty."

"Is it always like this?"

"Shockspace-travel? Yeah. An egghead explained why it looked like that once, but he lost me at blue-shift and red-shift."

"Egghead?"

Samuel smiled uneasily. "Errr...really smart person."

Risa seemed intrigued. "Like a shaman?"

"I suppose so, do you have different kinds? Like, some know a lot about healing, others about...well..." He gestured to the swirls outside, just as a burst of purple passed the ship.

"...This."

"They do know about healing, and many other things, but not this in particular."

"Ah, so they're big on general skills, huh? I guess we just know too damn much to make that viable nowadays."

He froze when he felt how Risa's eyes shot icicles at him. "Are you implying that we're ignorant?"

"No! I...I just mean that there's a lot still undiscovered for you. I'm sure that you'll need...like...separate tech-shamans too, in time."

Risa looked away from him and sighed, a cloak of moroseness suddenly enveloping her. "Assuming we'll get the chance..."

Samuel opened his mouth to speak, and then thought better of it, there was nothing he could say about the subject.

They stared at shockspace beyond the cockpit in silence for a while, until Risa sighed deeply.

"What will your clan do now?"

Samuel shrugged. "Bury it, most likely. They'll just tell everyone that they caught and killed us, make desertion seem like something that will only get you killed."

"Will they follow us?"

"I doubt it; it's difficult to track a ship through shockspace, and where we're heading, it's easy to disappear."

"These 'borderlands' you spoke of?"

"Yep. No overarching government or law, lots of unknown and unexplored segments, plenty of other species around so we won't stick out like a sore thumb. A perfect place for an odd couple with our skills, I think."

Risa seemed somber as she shrugged. "I've lost my honor already, working for coin and food in whatever manner cannot make me lose more."

She sighed, and then felt Samuel's hand brush through her mane gingerly.

"And how about regaining some while you're at it?"

Risa turned and stared at him with her colorful eyes.

"The lawlessness also means there are good people that need to be defended. Guns-for-hire doesn't mean that we can't have standards. Hell, at least now I can pick my own orders instead of just doing what I'm told and finding out you took part in an atrocity."

Risa nodded. "I suppose that is true."

"I won't sugar-coat it; it won't be easy. Honorable jobs tend to not pay well."

"Higher paths never are."

Samuel smiled vaguely. "You know, it seems like some things really stay the same no matter where you go, or what species you meet. Makes you wonder."

"About what?"

"About how, more like."

Samuel leaned forward and pressed some buttons on his console, before unlatching his safety belts with a quick twist of his wrist. He staggered when he stood, like the ship moved under him despite the inertial dampening. Stress flowed out of him with a sigh and a shiver. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Risa slowly run her hands across the belts, almost experimentally.

"Well, we've got at least an hour ahead of us. Maybe we should try to catch some shut-eye."

He could hear a click and clatter when Risa undid her safety belts, and the creaking of the chair when she stood up. That was all he heard as he shuffled to the back of the shuttle where the crew berths were. And then the air was slammed out of his lungs, brought down easy like helpless prey. His vision still consisted of swimming blurs, his mind still dazed and catching up from the sudden blow when he was flipped around onto his back, the second blow forcing out whatever air he'd gotten in his lungs in the meantime. He recognized the blur hovering in front of him, felt her breath on his face, saw the shark-like teeth grinning down on him.

"I had something else in mind." The tip of her tongue played around her lips.

Samuel felt a hot blush rising even through his daze. "Whuh...wha?"

"Sergals can be quite...ravenous. Especially after stress and fights. You should have considered that if you feel that you can't handle it."

Samuel's eyes slowly focused as they drifted across the body he'd explored a number of times before by now, and even while still covered with her armor it filled him with desire. The feminine curves with the promise of strength and lethality behind it, the thick fluff beneath which firm breasts awaited. Clawed fingers , made to rend flesh, that could be amazingly gentle and tender. He began to breathe heavily from the prospect alone.

"I can see from your responses that it doesn't bore you, at least."

Risa extended her tongue with a hiss, the tip sliding along his cheek, jaw and throat. The salty taste of his cooling sweat made her shiver internally. Her fingers unclasped his armor faster than Samuel himself had ever managed, and then curled themselves into his collar. The sharp, harsh sound of ripping fabric filled the cabin as Risa tore his uniform to pieces.

"You won't be needing that anymore." Risa stared down on him, enjoying the view of his fit physique heaving with deep breaths. She could see a faint gleam of sweat that started to form on his skin. Samuel shivered when she ran her tongue down his body, and squirmed when it tickled his navel. He wanted to touch her, but she had him pinned down at the wrists.

Her eyes flared as she looked up at him. "No, no escape."

Risa's teeth clenched wickedly, emphasizing her grin. Samuel felt rather than heard the growl that went through her body, and it turned his blood to ice. The teeth descended on him and in a reflex he squeezed his eyes shut.

Risa reared up with a roar as she ripped the upper area of his pants to pieces with her teeth alone, her hands still keeping him pinned to the metal floor of the cockpit. With a flick of her head, she tossed away some shredded fabric like a clump of unwanted fur, and then she descended on him again.

Samuel gasped when he felt her rough tongue on him again, rough and at the same time playful and teasing. It flicked and nudged at his member as he felt it swell.

He chuckled slightly. "Damn, warn me next time."

"And spoil the fun? It's amusing to see you scared."

Her teeth gleamed in the light as she suddenly stared to close her mouth on him. He tensed up and twitched violently.

"Hey!"

Risa rewarded him with a purring lick along his length. "See?"

Samuel wanted to respond, witty and quick, but failed miserably as she simply continued to toy with him. Pleasure came in waves as her tongue moved in all the right ways - brushing along the underside, circling around the tip, flicking at the base.

Hidden by the loincloth of her armor, Risa was showing much more proof of her own desire that she was letting on. The tentacle covering her intimates at already unfurled itself, pushing aside the strip of cloth as it did. It gleamed with lubrication and eagerness to accept. She tasted his pre as she took him into her mouth and suckled, confirming that he was fully prepared.

It happened so fast that Samuel barely had time to register that Risa changed her grip on him, hands sliding from his wrists to under his shoulders and clamping down. She hoisted him off the floor like a rag doll and bodily slammed him into a curved bulkhead. Streaks of pain welled up along his arms, revealing that she'd scratched him. Risa's breath came in ragged gasped, overwhelmed with primal desire.

"Aargh! Easy!"

"Don't worry, this won't take long."

Further below, he felt the now familiar, yet still exotic, feeling of her tentacle finding and guiding him. Risa's roar made the cockpit shudder as she slammed down on him, forcing him into her. Samuel felt her squeezing tight the instant she received him, but she wasn't going to give him even a moment of respite.

Pain mixed with pleasure as she savagely drove her body against him, slamming him against the bulkhead again and again. He felt the chill of her armor on his bare skin, not having bothered taking it off before she acted on lust and wanted gratification. She snarled and ground against him, squeezing his arms so hard that he felt they were starting to bruise. He didn't care. He didn't even worry even about the flares of pain his injured ribs were sending. He felt himself throbbing hard inside her, already coming close. Even Risa's momentary pauses didn't stop the stimulation as her walls clenched around him rhythmically. Risa licked at his face with her hot tongue, and Samuel responded by kissing her where he could. It was a gesture that was still strange to her, but it felt pleasant, warm. She enjoyed it.

The climax came suddenly when Risa clamped down on him at just the right moment. Samuel groaned and tried to bury himself inside her even deeper as he felt the release. She pushed down on him snarling, crushing him against the wall with enough force to hurt. It only seemed to heighten the climax with a rush of adrenaline, his body quaking and his member throbbed and spasmed hard.

Risa's full-body tremble revealed to him that she peaked as well, clamping down on him and pulling him in as to not spill a single drop. They remained there, both panting, as the world around them slowly started to come into focus again. The cold metal of the bulkhead at his back, the drone of the engines, the hum of life support. The thousand promises of pain Samuel's body was giving him.

Risa let him slip to the floor, his legs still too unsteady to properly stand. She looked down on him with a grin, a grin that Samuel returned when he noticed that her own legs were also just a little bit wobbly. Only now did he fully realize that she'd never taken her armor off, not a single piece.

"You know, you could've just opened my fly if you didn't want to waste time getting undressed."

Risa grinned. "I figured I'd help the transition - you won't be needing the uniform again after all."

Samuel shook his head. "Good point...but you'd better hope there's spare clothes on this ship...otherwise it'll be interesting when we're docking somewhere."

Risa crouched down next to him, and pressed a finger on his nose with a thin smile.

"I'm sure we can find something for you."

She stood up and turned around, her hips and tail swaying as she took a few steps.

"And one other thing. Perhaps I'll let you dominate next time, seems like a nice change of pace."

Samuel chuckled and then flinched. "You'll need to give me a little longer to recover from this one. Christ, I'll probably still be feeling this next week."

The smile and look she sent him made him shiver pleasantly in anticipation.

Then again...I'm sure I could tough it out if I have to.

He followed her into the sleeping compartment of the shuttle, and closed the door behind them. They still had a good 45 minutes to go before arrival, and they could both do with a rest.

Samuel hated the births on shuttles - yet it was the most comfortable bed he'd ever had when he laid down. He wondered how much of that was due to the fluffy, soft fur of Risa who bedded down next to him...without armor this time.

They'd both managed to escape and whatever awaited them when they exited shockspace, they'd be facing it together. After escaping a warship, whatever trouble awaited them seemed small in comparison.