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The Wolf Hunters

Episode

5

Acts of War

By

Lutrian

ver. 3.20

The ship-wide alarm jarred me awake with a start. As I fought to clear the cobwebs out of my head, the first thought was "Get to the bridge! Get to the bridge!" I swung my legs off my bed, and struggled to my feet, stretching as I fought the disorientation caused by waking up to the loud wail. Red emergency lights swept through my room from two recesses on the wall, near the viewport. "Lights!" I yelled. Bright white illumination dazzled my eyes momentarily. "Take a breath" I mumbled to myself, as I inhaled, and exhaled. Now, to the bridge.

The door slid aside as I entered the brightly lit corridor. Here, red emergency lights swept faintly, drowned out by the bright illumination, in case the power failed. Turning right, I bolted the short distance to the bridge.

The door slid open as I entered the unoccupied control room of the Sabre of Justice. The screen showed a broken tunnel of greens, and blues of hyperspace travel, which meant that we were not in immediate peril. Taking my seat at the captain's chair, I glanced at the three unoccupied stations in front of me. "Computer, display navigation and tactical overlays, superimpose!"

A map of the nearby star systems formed over the hyperspatial view. Far starboard of us, flashing in red, was a nearby neutron star, which was a serious navigation hazard, due to its mass and gravity well. However, the neutron star was too far to be of any concern. There were two streaks noted, which were the wakes of two nearby vessels, though after a moment, they flashed green, and the names and registries of two known Federation freighters flashed over the wakes. Nothing seemed amiss.

Captain Matt Benson stormed through the door, followed closely by Karen, and a few moments later, Carl, Daryl, and finally Scot.

"Time!" shouted the captain as he glanced at his watch. "Three minutes, forty-nine seconds! Not bed, but we could do better." The alarm abruptly stopped.

I rotated the Captains seat to face the rest of the bridge crew. "I got here a while ago. Maybe just over a minute." Everyone was staring at me. Karen blushed slightly, as she backed towards the door. Daryl also blushed, though he mostly stifled a nervous chuckle. I spread my arms out and leaned back in the seat. "Why is everyone looking at me like that."

The Captain glanced down slightly. "Ah, you forgot something."

Looking down at where the captain was staring, I saw my flaccid penis. "Oh yeah, my uniform."

"Arthur Harrison," said the captain. "I very much appreciate your rapid response time during emergency drills. But, I'd appreciate it even more, if you at least began taking the time to put on a pair of underwear."

* * * *

It had been twelve hours since we had left the Alchoa system, several days later than we had intended. Other than the emergency drill, everything was routine, maybe too routine. Captain Bernhardt Smithfield's ship, Wolfbane, would be arriving in the Alchoa system within the next day or so. Another blip was also riding the slipstream about a day behind Smithfield's ship, which didn't register, and I feared was probably the Motricians. Fortunately, a Federation medium cruiser was also en route to Alchoa II, so hopefully that would keep the Motricians from starting something. Still, there was the potential for things to turn ugly, especially since the cruiser would not arrive for at least a week.

In the Trans-con briefing room, I sat in my usual seat, across from the captain, while to my left, sat Jerrard Henningsen, this time wearing plain jeans and a black shirt. "My group is called Dark Dominion. Don't worry. We don't attack ships, other than the occasional Zeph vessel. We have done some smuggling here and there. What we do, is, ah, we specialize in, ah, extreme body modifications."

"We're not talking about tattoos and piecing people's dicks, here." Captain Benson laughed slightly, than cleared his throat.

"Genetic stuff." said the rogue. "Some people want to have some Zephenidian in them, and be able to grow wolf ears. Others want some Lutrian stuff. We, ah, we use volunteers when we can get them. When we can't, we may use animal substitutes, if our clients are okay with that, or smuggled tissue."

I interjected, "Wait, you get Zephenidians to cooperate or--"

"We've raided a few Zephenidian ships." boasted the man. "We've taken tissue from the casualties, mostly Zephs, of course, and the occasional Cortrian. Cortrians aren't that popular. There's just not much of a market for making mongoose people."

"So you, ah, somehow infuse people with alien and animal DNA?" I asked the man. There was a reason these kinds of experiments and modifications, were extremely illegal. When things go wrong, they tended to go very wrong. Sometimes, things are so badly botched, that the results are fatal, or disfiguring. Even when they did succeed, this often wreaks havoc with the person's immune system, and the results were often extremely difficult to treat. Many doctors and hospitals loath dealing with people with such genetic modifications, since it can complicate regen and other medical procedures. I decided not to lecture this man about the evils of his trade, at this point, since he was now, our client. "How is this stuff even done?"

"A lot of trade secrets." The man paused for a moment as he lowered his head. "Okay, I need to be honest. I had no intentions of letting you engage in the mission without my presence. I just needed you to think you had a choice." He looked up and glanced around the room. "I do have to try to protect any trade secrets, if we have to go down to the facility. And if the crew at the facility are alive and okay, I do have to be there to allow you inside, to vouch for you. This also means, we have to follow strict protocols so that no logs and data are retained upon completion of the mission. We don't want the Feds swooping in on us."

The captain shook his head. "Jerrard, I don't trust you. I know Art trusts you even less. Now you throw this at us. I know you want to protect your employers, but I wouldn't trust you to dig through our computers or anything of that sort."

"Two days ago, when I first proposed this mission, Art suggested he could take your service craft out. Not enough speed or range, you said. Well, we could reach a Federation outpost that's about eight light years away from the site. That's less than two days away, if your service craft is running a stock hyperdrive. Two days there, two days back, plus however long it takes us to complete our mission. Once completed, we can wipe and reset the service craft's computer, just prior to docking."

I interjected, "We'd be able to monitor where the Sabre of Justice is at any time from our main ship since we'd be transmitting ID."

"You'd have to turn your ID off, and I'd like you to deactivate your long range scanners to avoid any tracking of your service craft's wake." said the man.

"Captain!" I protested as I rose to my feet and glared at the man. "This deal is getting worse and worse. I know he's already paid us one-hundred and eighty grand, but-"

"Sit down, Art," said the captain.

"But, we're not going to be able to defend ourselves if the Motricians show up." I said. "No long range sensors. We'll be fucking blind."

"The outposts buoys and sensor array should be able to detect any hostiles entering the system," said the captain. "We can do this."

I sighed as I sat down. "I just don't like this."

Jerrard seemed lost in thought for a moment. "I, ah, I admit, I approached you for this mission because you're the only Wolf Hunter ship I could find that has a truly professional crew. There's a couple of others, but, most of your ships and crews are pretty Mickey Mouse. You, on the other hand, you have a science officer of sorts."

"I see myself as kind of an amateur science officer," I said. "I'm primarily the navigator and helmsmen."

"Better than most," said Jerrard. "You help me with this, and there will be a full million more dollar-creds in your account. Got it?"

"Aye," said the captain.

I sighed again. "We're just putting ourselves, and two Zephenidian passengers at risk, but..." I trailed off.

"And of course, you're having this heated debate, which is great," the man said as ge waved his arms dramatically. "It shows that you guys are going to be thinking on your toes, which may be needed."

The captain looked at me, and Jerrard. "Well, if there's nothing else to add here, we should probably adjourn. Jerrard, remember, you are restricted to deck two without a security detail. If you need to go to the bridge, talk to Scott Nelson. Dismissed."

"Aye," said Jerrard, as he got to his feet. "And thank you."

After the man disappeared through the door to Trans Con, to be escorted by security, I asked, "Do you guys know each other?"

"Yeah," said Captain Benson. "He was a crew member on the Sabre of Justice back when Howard Peirce owned and captained this vessel. I played double duty as the helmsman and weapons officer, and Jerrard was chief of security. A year before Pierce retired, Jerrard quit. He told me that he was recruited by the Dark Dominion gang to help them handle some of the business aspects, such as promoting their services to the various body mod communities. When Peirce retired a year later, he offered to sell me the Sabre of Justice at a deep discount. I still couldn't afford her, but Jerrard stepped in and lent me a sizable chunk of money. The conditions were, if he had need of a ship, for transport, or for any job that wasn't illegal or dangerous as fuck, that he could call on me."

Five years ago, I had met Matt Benson for the first time, after responding to his ad, back on earth, as he sought to build his new crew. "I've never met the guy until a couple of days ago, so I assume this is the first time he asked you to return the favor?"

"Yeah," nodded the captain. "I thought I'd have to cart him around the known galaxy, but he generally just hops aboard his gang's Star Rogue class hospital ship, called the Dominon, for passage. It makes sense. Jerrard gets a bunch of interested clients on a waiting list, then they wait for the Dominion, or its service craft, to make its rounds. The Dominion is where they do all their actual body mods. They whisk people to the ship to turn 'em into freaks, or worse, then dump them back home, and jump off to another system before the police catch on."

The while idea made me cringe, and I sighed. "Captain, can we trust him?"

"Ah, let's just say that we'll be keeping him under full scrutiny during the entire mission." The captain got to his feet. "But, if all goes well, we'll be able to replace our hyperdrive, maybe even upgrade our weapons, or shields."

"I just have a very bad feeling about this,"

"Your objections are noted." The captain paused, as he walked around the table. "Art, despite your reservations, are you capable of performing your duties?"

"Yes, I am," I assured the captain.

"Because I'm going to need you to help us pull this off. I'm expecting, well, hoping, this will be a cut and dry mission, like one of them with severe cabin fever, busted the airlock wide open and froze everyone to death. That kind of thing."

"Captain, I will do my best."

"In fact, I'm going to put you in command of the mission team." continued the Captain. "You'll be responsible for planning, allocating resources, assigning crew, everything will be at your discretion."

"I, ah," I was a bit flabbergasted as I fought for words. Captain Benson had previously suggested that he wanted me to captain the_Sabre of Justice_, maybe while he spent some time on earth going through regen, and spent time with his family. "I'm, ah, honored. I will do my best, despite my reservations."

"Thank you," said the captain. "Now, I think you should pay Nakhara a visit."

"Aye," I agreed. She did make me very uncomfortable, though. Last time I had entered her quarters, about three days or so ago, she pinned me against the bulkhead wanting to ravish me, while at the same time, having an emotional breakdown. She was large and intimidating, so I was unsure if I'd be safe, if I had allowed things to proceed. There was also the fact that she was the victim of rape in an Alchoan brothel, so I was not convinced that sex would be good for her. But her insistence was not characteristic of how I'd expect a rape victim to act.

The captain stood at the door. He turned back to me, and cracked a smile. "Art, remember, you're responsible for the Zephenidians, especially Nakhara. That means, if you feel you can control her, that is, if she'll listen to you, you can let her out of her cell. If you want to take her somewhere more private, there's a number of empty crew cabins towards the aft."

"If you're, ah," I could feel myself blush, "Suggesting I, ah, do something with her. She was raped, remember?"

The captain walked back to the bench of the table, and sat down. "She propositioned Scot, twice."

"Fuck!" I said under my breath. "I bet he was pissed."

"Scot actually took it better than I thought he would. He sees it as a big joke."

"She was raped. I'm not going to fuck her."

The captain's tone grew serious. "Is her rape the only reason you'd be unwilling to have any kind of intimate contact with her?"

"Captain," I was taken aback by what he was asking. "Captain, last week, you were telling Daryl how he'd never be able to fit in, because of his relationship with Jurrukush."

The captain laughed. "Everyone changes. A lot has happened over the past few days. Look, I did the whole married with kids, thing. I pulled off the whole American Dream, with a house, two sons, a beautiful wife. Then about twenty years ago, when the kids graduated collage, and I had gone through regen, I was becoming restless. I wanted to see the universe. There was some marital tension over my desire to travel, so we divorced, amiably. I joined a Wolf Hunter ship, shortly afterwards. But we still get together, me and the family when we visit Earth. Hell, me and my ex fucked a lot during our last visit, a few months ago, back when we recruited Daryl."

"Glad you two are still good friends," I said.

"It's just that, when she was sixteen, she was abducted by one of her cousins, at gunpoint. The gun was a blaster. She was brutally raped repeatedly during the three days of her captivity. Eventually, the Cincinnati police cornered his vehicle, and her captor was shot a few times, but survived, and was arrested."

I shuddered. "That's, ah, terrible."

We met a few years later. She did tell me about her capture and rape. She was strong though. I was reluctant to have sex with her, because of the rape, while we were dating. She was obviously growing more and more frustrated, until she finally confronted me on this issue. She called my reluctance, discrimination, and told me that, because she was very open sexually, this made her strong and able to move on. She also had counseling as well, which further helped. That night, we fucked like we meant it, and a few weeks later, she proposed."

"So, ah, what you're getting at?" I asked

"Art, we all change. I was a family man, now a Wolf Hunter captain. When I confronted Daryl, with his hair matted with Zeph slobber and ah, jism, I found this rather strange and unsettling. My gut reaction was thinking of this as bestiality, even despite knowing about some of your escapades in Lutrian orgies. Then, of course, was the fact he slept with an enemy species. I didn't know if the crew would accept him, after they found out. Then, when Jurrukush took you hostage in the Blade, ah, it was too much for me at that time. It just horrifies me, what the Establishment of Prukak did to Jurrukush, turning him into a monster, when he is in fact one of the kindest souls I know. I change. We all change. I mean, half the crew has gotten at least one hug from Jurrukush for Christ's sake."

"I've noticed," I said, as I remembered Carl interacting with Jurrukush a couple of days ago.

"And second, just because a woman, man, or a Zephenidian, or whatever, is a victim of rape, doesn't mean you should dismiss her, or his sexuality. People recover at different rates, and each one of them has a different set of strengths and weaknesses. Art, I know you want to do what's best for her. But, if the only reason you're refusing to, ah, partake, to surrender to her, whatever, is because she was raped, then you're as guilty as I was, when I rebuffed, who would later be the love of my life."

The captain had never given me such an intense heart to heart talk, like he was doing now. This was definitely a side I had never seen in him, before. He was a rather private person, especially while he was on duty. I thought about what he had said, and I wondered if I was being overly closed minded. I did have other issues. "I, ah understand. Though I am intimidated by her. She's bigger than Jurrukush. Also, one of the agents told me not to fully trust her. I think it had to do with her past, being a member of the_Establishment_, and all."

"Art," said the captain as he got to his feet. "Those should be your reasons, not because she was raped."

"Aye. Thank you. I'm still going to be cautious with regards to that, but, I won't use this as an excuse."

The captain stepped to the door. "Art, you're always welcome."

* * * *

With the Captain's talk fresh in my mind, I headed below deck, to check on Nakhara. After having the food dispenser retrieve and heat two meatloaf dinners, a favorite of Nakhara's, I carried the two piping hot boxes to her cell. Both Zephenidians liked the meatloaf dinners, which were meat heavy dishes, but were also extremely unpopular with the rest of the crew. Those frozen meals which had been taking up space in the food storage hold, would finally get eaten. I reached the transparent door of Nakhara's cell, set the boxes down and pulled the key fob out of my pocket.

Nakhara reclined on her bed. She turned her lupine muzzle towards me, and drew her ears forward. I checked to make sure my translator headband was properly positioned, and that the main unit was switched on. She gracefully slipped off her bed, to her feet, and eyed me intensely. "Aren't you going to push these under the door and leave, like you've been doing, lately?"

"No," I answered. "I need to stop avoiding you. I'm sorry." I waved the key fob in front of the lock sensor, and the door slid aside. "Just tone down your attempts to..." I trailed off as fought for words. "Ah, just don't try to rush or push things, please. Okay?"

She displayed a rather toothy grin. "If that will result in you spending more time with me, then, certainly."

I grabbed the two flat boxes off the floor and entered her room, presenting both to her. She took the boxes, and returned to her bed, where she sat down. Setting one of the boxes on the floor, she put the other box on her lap, and opened it. Zephenidians had apparently never invented eating utensils, other than knives, and this showed, as she grabbed a hunk of meatloaf in her hand and began eating it. I eyed the fork, which had fallen off the top box, onto the floor in front of the bed. Jurrukush was already using a fork, though he had Daryl to teach him. I decided not to worry about this, since there was a lot more on my mind.

"Chuthnu, ah, Akh." Her attempt to pronounce my name was jarring, and I'd almost rather she had called me by my food designation, chuthnu. "I am aware that we are not heading to the designated star system. I've heard that we are on a mission, a dangerous mission."

"I guess someone told you."

"The other Zephenidian, yes. We are talking, and I regret everything I said to you about him, on your first visit to my cell. He told me, and I've heard bits of it from the rest of the crew, when they've bothered to wear translators. Your crew is afraid."

"I'm fucking frightened, myself." I looked around for a place to sit. Nothing came to mind. Sitting on her bed might be too much of an invitation. Ultimately, I just leaned against the doorway of her quarters. "We're on a mission to rescue pirates and mad scientists." I had a lot of ideas about what could go wrong. I was expecting to find the pirates alive, and be taken hostage, possibly to have the ship seized. Though there was also the possibility of facing enemy threats, like the Motricians, or Zephenidians. Fortunately the Motrician ship was heading away, back towards Alchoa, but they could always double back. And of course there was also the risk of attacks by other pirates, as well as the V'Nari syndicate. However, the V'Nari syndicate rarely sent vessels this deep into Federation space, though members occasionally served on Zephenidian ships. The planet itself, might also be a death trap. "So much could go wrong."

She held the split baked potato in her hand, with the butter and gravy running down her arm, as she took a bite out of it. "I wish to help. I want to help, if I can."

"I don't know what you could do." I tried to think of ideas. Jurrukush was now an unofficial security guard. I couldn't think of anything for Nakhara to do, other than security as well, since she wouldn't be able to work any of the ship's consoles. Only problem, we already had an overabundance of security personnel.

She had her face in the box, loudly licking and slurping up the gravy and juices from the meatloaf, before she set it down on the floor. She lifted the second box to her lap and opened it. "Those ah, starch tubers are not bad at all." She took the potato in her hand and took a bite out of it. "If you're in a position where you're going to be dealing with boarders, release me. Me and Jurrukush would be the biggest asset your ship could ever have. We have better hearing than the rest of your crew. We'd be able to hear the transfers, and possibly ambush them as they materialize."

"We do have too many security, ah." Her point was hard to deny. If we were being boarded, everyone would have to take up arms. Even if we don't allow the Zephenidians to have access to side arms, they could still be extremely capable of smashing a pirate's skull against a bulkhead, or chewing their throats apart.

When she finished her meal, she began licking her hand and arm to clean up the mess. "Chuthnu, you and your crew should not be afraid of me. My people would kill me, if they knew I've been talking to, what they consider, prey."

"Are you so sure?" I asked, remembering the communications which was intercepted a few days ago. "Your government knows it's a lie. Members of your own Establishment knows."

"If they do, I'm not a high enough rank." She stopped licking her arm, and fixed her eyes on me. The fur on her arm was still matted with gravy. It would likely require an actual shower to clean, properly. "I commanded a ship, and could, at my discretion, order other vessels. If I was a higher rank, I would be a government or corporate official." She got to her feet and gazed at me intensely. "I won't hurt you, I promise." She took a step towards me.

"It's just that you were a victim of ra-" I immediately bit my tongue, remembering Captain Benson's lecture. "Ah, you're going to get gravy all over me."

* * * *

I climbed the ladder well, with the taste of meatloaf dinner in my mouth. She did take care not to get gravy on my uniform. However, in the process, she did practically feed me some of her dinner with her tongue, along with nearly a pint of saliva. As I reached the top of the ladder, I wiped some slime off my cheek, before entering the bridge.

The captain was at his seat. "Art, take your station and help us monitor this."

"What's going on," I said, as I rushed to my console, and took my seat. Suspecting what the captain wanted me to do, I checked the Alchoa system on my map. "I, ah, I don't see Smithfield's ship. Actually didn't he arrive safely, a few hours ago?"

"Yes. But if you notice, the ship we suspect as the Motricians has ridden the Trans Alchoa slipstream past the system."

Looking at my screen, I watched the blip and its wake. "The starliner is a day out, and is located, ah, here. The Motrician ship is being drawn at an angle along this slipstream." I carefully traced the likely course of the Stellar Wind, and the path of the slipstream. The slipstream did diverge widely, as it snaked towards the galactic core. However, as I watched the ships courses, the Motricians would still be within about four or five light years of the starliner, just before the slipstream veered away. "Captain, I think they're going after the Stellar Wind."

"They can't be," said the captain. "The Trans-Alchoan slipstream diverges and leaves Federation space once you get past the Alchoa system."

"It does, but it maintains a nearly parallel course for a good five parsecs or so. The Motricians could pull ahead, drop from the slipstream, and strike."

"Shit!" Captain Benson stabbed a button on his seat. "Karen! Karen Brooks, report to the bridge on the double!" He clicked off the intercom. "Find them a safe place. We need to divert them."

I glanced at my navigation map. "That region is kind of a desert. The closest decent colony would involve telling them to turn back to Alchoa, but that would send them right at the Motricians. There's a Federation cruiser en route to Alchoa, but I don't think it can reach them in time. As for colonies, there's Nargazi at 15 light years rimward, but they're poorly defended. There's Kelmazar, just a listening post. Shit!"

Karen barged through the door and before she reached her station, Captain Benson yelled, "Hail the Stellar Wind. The cats are after them."

She practically threw herself in her seat, and scrambled to get the proper parameters set on her console. "Sabre of Justice, calling Stellar Wind, do you copy."

A voice with a thick Slavic accent sounded through a speaker. "Stellar Wind here."

Karen looked in my direction.

"Send them to Nargazi!" This was a snap decision, but better than nothing. "Tell them to enter the system, and dock with the facility."

"Stellar Wind, change course for Nargazi! I repeat, change course to Nargazi. The Motricians are intercepting you. Go to Nargazi and dock with the main starbase."

"My navigator has already assessed the situation. We're not going to make it. They'll catch up to us before we reach Nargazi. We, ah, we're going to stand down, and let them inspect our ship."

Benson got to his feet and stormed to Karen's console. "Negative! They will destroy you!"

"Without the Zephenidians, I think we can negotiate. We're going to stand down. Wish us luck. We need to make preparations. _Stellar Wind_out."

I sighed and moaned. "Fuck! Daryl feared that this would happen. Good call, kid." I looked at my display. Our current course was taking us to a colony called Ik'narr IIb. This was a small human colony located on a habitable moon which orbited a gas giant, itself orbiting an M dwarf star. The colony was small, but had an economy which was supposed to be tourist based. Instead, it had become a haven for smugglers, since it was too far out for a decent tourist economy. The planet was near the Ashara-Tarr maelstrom, where the rogue planet that the pirate base, was located.

* * * *

The rest of the day felt surreal, with an increasing sense of dread. I wondered if it would be a good idea to talk to Daryl about the situation with the Starliner, though I didn't feel comfortable enough to break the news. There was just too much uncertainty on whether the Motricians would let them go after a scan, or if they'd still attack. Whatever the case, I was almost positive that they'd come looking for us, afterwards. Meeting them in hyperspace would be preferable, since I had already shown myself to be the better pilot and navigator. I could probably drop them to realspace, though I'd rather not be forced to joust with them. If we had to confront them in realspace, I was not confident that we could survive against them. As for Movie Night, at some point, I pondered suggesting Pirates of the Caribbean, as kind of a joke, in light of the current situation. But at the moment, no one seemed to be in the mood. That night, my sleep was restless as I suspected what tomorrow would bring.

* * * *

"Sabre of Justice calling Stellar Wind! Do you copy!" Karen's voice grew more frantic. "Do you copy."

It had been a good hour since the starliner had dropped from hyperspace, along with the Motrician vessel. The federation medium cruiser was on its way to their location, but it was still several hours away. Checking my long range scanner, there was nothing. There were no wakes of the ships re-entering hyperspace, and no transmitted ID signal from the starliner. My head was still a bit sore from the lack of decent sleep. "Captain, nothing on my screen. Maybe they're being jammed."

"That would be a new development," said Captain Benson. "They had every opportunity to jam communications and every reason to do so, in the past."

A blip formed on the scanner in the vicinity of the last whereabouts. "Object detected. Checking mass, and wake. Still don't know, they're in borderspace. If it's the starliner, they could be in borderspace for about ten to fifteen minutes. If it's the Motricians, they should complete their jump in two or three minutes."

"Sabre of Justice to Stellar Wind. Do you copy. Please respond!"

I sighed. "Daryl fucking called it. God dammit!" I watched the blip, almost sure that it was the Motricians. "Karen, did you detect any kind of distress signal, disaster beacon, anything like that?"

"I, ah..." Karen looked down at her lap a moment, then looked at me, then turned towards the captain. "I think, ah, I fear there's nothing to hail."

As the minutes dragged on, the blip eventually flashed on my screen, and the characteristic wake pattern formed behind it. It was now heading back out of Federation space, towards our general direction. "Captain, the Motricians are now heading towards back in our general direction. It's too early to know if they're going to attempt to intercept us, or not."

The captain yelled, "Dammit!"

"What about our mission," I asked as I swiveled my seat to face the captain.

"We should be in and out before the cats reach us, provided Sam can get the hyperdrive to cooperate."

"Not again," I said. I checked my console, and saw that the system wouldn't allow me to set a velocity greater than 3120c. I had noticed this earlier, but hadn't given much thought. The hyperdrive had given us similar issues a few months ago, and it had to be practically dismantled, in order to be repaired. Fixing it now, would probably take us more time, then we'd be losing, due to our lower speed. "Captain. I'd like to pay Sam a visit down in engineering as soon as possible. I need his input on a lot of matters regarding the mission."

The captain waved towards the door, "Go ahead. If anything comes up, I'll let you know."

"Thanks," I got to my feet, and headed through the door. I took the right ladder well to the deck below. The ladders to engineering were on either side of the intersection, just aft of me. I took a right, down a short corridor past another intersection, and through a sliding door, ahead. This ladder was long, leading through about four meters of deck, water tank, fuel tank, then out into the large expanse of the bowels of the engineering deck.

Below and behind me, was a vast glass shaft containing a brightly luminous blue-green plasma which pulsed and flowed through its length. Sections of the tube were opaque, with metal panels, and heavy ring-shaped sections which were evenly spaced, which held the whole assembly to the deck. Parts of the tube were covered with consoles and status displays. To my right, the drive narrowed into a shiny metal shaft, which passed through the forward wall, to an emitter system on the ship's hull. The hyperdrive, itself, was over a hundred meters long, running most of the one hundred and thirty-eight meter length of the ship, and was almost three meters in width. Inside the tube, were structures appearing as a series of closely placed rings on the inside of the glass. These rings began about half-way along the tube's length, each spaced about thirty centimeters apart, and continued through most of the aft most half of the drive. Large bundles of conduits attached to the drive, at the forward end, and at the aft end. Above and around the drive, were various catwalks, and ladders, which provided access to all parts of the hyperdrive, and other related systems. Sam Cleary worked at a console near the back of the drive, while the other two engineering staff moved about, inspecting consoles and panels as they made their rounds. The room was hot and stuffy, and the engine hummed and thrummed ominously, which didn't help my sleep deprivation headache.

I reached the floor of the engineering deck, and hurried along the drive, occasionally glancing at the flow of energy, which swirled through the behemoth of technology. This was the very heart of the ship. It was the single largest component of the vessel, with the fuel tank being a close rival. Even the twin outboard sublight engines combined, were probably smaller. To my right, I passed a hatchway to the port storage hold. To my left, was the clear glass of the hyperdrive, which gave way to a series of corrugated radiators. At a large console at the rear of the drive, stood Sam, who was staring at some status displays, while muttering to himself.

"Sam, so what's happening with the hyperdrive?" I asked as I reached the console. Glancing to my right, was a short passage which terminated at a heavy insulated door, which provided access to the port sublight engine.

"It fucking happened again!" he yelled. "Every time I have someone service this thing, they knock the fucking transition coils out of alignment. They did this on Earth, and the fucking incompetents we hired at Alchoa, fucked it up again, not as badly, but still."

"You're going to have to take the drive apart, again?" I asked.

"Aye! I'd have to power the thing down, discharge it, crack the seals, go inside the thing, and manually realign the damn coils using a set of submicron calipers." He sighed. "Once I've done this, and run the computer simulation on the plasma flow, then I have to reseal the containment vessel, pump all the air out of it, then charge it back up. That's like two whole fucking weeks of being stuck."

"We don't have two weeks," I reminded him. "It would be faster just getting to the Ik'narr system with our drive as is."

"Aye, yeah." He looked at me and said, "I suspect you came for a reason, other than to bitch at the engine with me."

"Yeah." I paused as I compiled my thoughts. "I'm in command of the away mission. So, I need to plan out my crew complement. I mean, it's complicated. I'm going to have to bring that Jerrard fellow, and I'll need someone to watch him. I'll need an engineer who can repair an LQR-720P hyperwave communications array, as well as a customized geothermal power generator, and maybe basic life support system repair."

"Geez," he sighed. "The comm system's an older model. As for the power, why don't they have a deuterium reactor, like everyone else?"

"They do, for emergencies, but they've never used it. They're pirates." I reminded him. "A fusion generator, even with neutrino suppressors, would still stand out like a sore thumb on any neutrino scanner, especially on a planet with no sun."

"Good point!"

"I've already decided, you're too crucial here to bring on the mission. Can you work with Daryl to bring him up to speed on repairing communications systems, life support, and geothermal power plants."

"Aye, will do."

"And second, we're going to be gone for four to six days in the Blade. We need the Blade inspected, prepped, and supplied. Also, as for the supplies Jerrard had dumped in our hold, we need the two specialized spacesuits, and just the parts and equipment for repairing the comm, life support, and power systems, and if you can find the ruggedized PortaScan unit, I could certainly make use of that."

"Aye."

"You have about ten days on this. Plenty of time. Don't squander it."

"Well, since I can't fix the fucking hyperdrive, I'm open for working on Daryl's training at any time. Just send him down, and I can start imediately."

"Thanks!"

He nodded. I waved to the other two engineers, who were up on the catwalk, as I headed back to the ladder.

* * * *

The mood on the bridge was somber, as the gruff voice of the Federation cruiser's captain was heard through the comm. "Benson, we found debris. We've recovered one body so far. I don't know what the fuck they hit 'er with. It's like something exploded inside the ship."

I turned to the captain. "The fucking bitch used a borderspatial missile. Why the fuck would she use a such a weapon on a poorly armed ship? They cost more than a house, shit, they probably cost more than the starliner itself."

"Jurrukush's bounty." said Captain Benson. "They're still after him."

Daryl stormed through the door of the bridge. "They, ah, they, the cats?" He stopped, huffing as he tried to speak faster than his brain could work. "Did the fucking cats take the starliner? One of the crew said something abo-" He suddenly stopped to listen to the comm.

"There's two more bodies. Attempting recovery. These are in bad shape."

"No! I knew it!" Daryl looked delirious. "They-"

I got to my feet and approached Daryl. "Calm down. I'm sorry. We're sorry."

"We could have been on that ship," he started sobbing. "We, we. I'm scared. Are they coming?"

I turned back to face the captain. "They blew a fucking borderspatial missile at the starliner. I hope they think they got Jurrukush, not to seem insensitive. Because if they found out that Jurrukush wasn't there, they're going to be after us, and they're going to be pissed off."

Daryl cried, "Fuck no! Don't let them get Jurrukush."

"I promise they're not going to get Jurrukush. Daryl, I forgot to run this by you."

Daryl looked up at me, his face still showed a serious sense of dread.

"You want to come along on the mission?"

"You mean," I paused for a moment. "The one where you're going to be gone a week to that ice planet?"

"Yeah," I said. "Probably not a week. Maybe five days. I need an engineer. You'd only go to the site when it's secure, and habitable."

"Only if Jurrukush can go."

I was afraid Daryl would make that request. "That's a tall order. The ship is kinda small but," I thought for a moment. "Though I do need someone to watch that Jerrard fellow. Okay, probably a good idea to bring Jurrukush."

"Thanks."

"We've recovered six bodies which are more or less whole. It's just bad." The voice paused, then there was some barely audible chitchat with other crew members. "We're not going to find any more. This whole area is peppered with a homogeneous mix of.... ah, fuck."

"What do you have?" asked the captain.

The voice said, "Everyone else is just vaporized, er, and bits. We have no way of knowing if anyone's been abducted. There just isn't enough here to identify. More debris." The man sighed.

* * * *

In the trans con briefing room, I sat on my usual seat, with Jerrard at the end of the table, to my left. Daryl sat at the other end, to my right with Jurrukush sitting next to him. It has been a good four days since the destruction of the Stellar Wind. Daryl was still taking it rather hard. I wasn't taking it very good myself, since I had suggested that Daryl return to that ship at one point. But we all had to move on. I wiped a little stray bit of slobber from where Nakhara had sucked on my nose, just before I was called to the briefing room.

"Let's see. We're going with me as captain, Daryl, and Jurrukush. I think I'm going to go with Carl. Daryl will be the main engineer. Carl, he's second to me when it comes to operating the transporter, and he knows how to fly the Blade. Probably also be a good time to teach Daryl how to fly her, as well. Jurrukush is to keep an eye on Jerrard."

"Sounds good," said captain Benson.

"I don't want Scot, he's too much of an asshole. Don't want Sam, he's too valuable. Shit, this is the first time I've done this kind of thing. Okay, someone's going to have to take care of Nakhara while I'm gone."

"Perfect job for Karen," chuckled the captain.

Jerrard seemed lost in thought, before an earlier part of the conversation sank in. "Wait, you're bringing the fucking wolf with you?"

"Yeah, he's your security."

"You're fucking kidding me."

"Nope. You fuck up, and your head's going through a bulkhead, got it? I don't think he'll bite you. He's not into scat."

"Look, I've not even done anything yet," protested Jerrard.

"Making sure you don't."

Jerrard sighed. "Well, getting back to the matter at hand. Remember, Oubliette is a dark, cold, hard, nasty place. We can only survive for ten to fifteen minutes on the planet's surface, provided we a cold weather survival garment under the spacesuits."

"Oubliette?" I asked.

"It's what we call the planet. It's a very dark, cold, volcanic planet. It's extremely difficult landing any ship on its surface, so it's pretty much only accessible via transporter."

"Sounds fun." I said, sarcastically.

The intercom beeped on the captain's console. He pressed a button. "Captain Benson here."

Karen's voice said, "We're being hailed by the cats. You might want to come to the bridge. They're requesting visual."

He looked up at everyone at the table. "Okay, meeting is adjourned. Art, come with me. I don't know what the fuck is going on. Let's go."

I followed the captain through Trans Con, and though the corridor to the bridge. As we entered, the image on the screen filled me with a rage I've never felt before.

The view was not from the Motrician ship's bridge, but from what appeared as the inside of a gloomily lit cargo hold. Manacled to the wall, was the captain of the Stellar Wind, though at the moment, he didn't appear to have any obvious injuries.

The captain yelled, "You will release him at once! What you've done is an act of war. Release-"

A large female bipedal feline stepped in front of the view, wearing her usual assortment of chains and trinkets. I recognized her as CaptainIzsharrr, who we had met over two weeks before. She growled. "I can release him now if you want, out the airlock, but there wouldn't be any sport to it. I've been keeping this filth for several days, and I grow weary of his sniveling."

"Get me out of here. Help me!" cried the captain of the Stellar Wind in his eastern European accent.

"He's already admitted that you have the one known as Jurrukush," she glared from the view screen. "As well as another possible fugitive, that I'm sure the Establishment would want returned, and I don't think they care whether she's alive or dead."

"This will not be tolerated!" yelled Captain Benson. "This is an act of war. Stand down, and release that man. Stand fucking down!"

She growled, then appeared to chuckle, or rather the translator interpreted her intonations as a chuckle. "You are in no position to bargain, apes! When we intercept you, you'll not be given an opportunity to surrender. You're far too valuable packed in our ship's hold, as meat. Your ship is worth a bounty, as well as salvage."

I was totally horrified. The captain of the starliner had probably been tortured, or at least intimidated and threatened, for days. Now the Motricians were coming after us, to claim what would likely be, an insanely large bounty. I was tempted to tell the captain that we should abort the mission, and turn back. Glancing at my screen, I tried to determine when and where they might intercept us.

"You will not threaten us. If you want a fight, we'll give you a fight!" shouted the captain. We will not yield to the likes of you!"

A creature with whitish-gray fur with a slight iridescence, strode into the room. The creature had a bit of a wolfish face, but with its ears being more rounded, with a large, almost fox-like tail, and an ample mane of fur flowing from its head, and around its shoulders. This creature wore no clothing, though its lack of noticeable external genitalia, with its eight nearly noticeable breasts, suggested that the creature was female. It stood a full head taller than the Motricians, possibly taller than a typical Zephenidian, though the creature appeared rather thin and agile. It turned to the screen, and hissed, then spoke. "This is a tasty morsel that I'm being denied."

Karen gasped. "It's a, fuck it's a Cortrian."

The captain advanced towards the screen. "Don't! Don't, you fucking....don't!"

"She's been wanting to eat this chuthnu, since we brought it aboard," growled Captain Izsharrr.

"Fuck, no, please no!" cried the captain of the Stellar Wind. "Please don't."

The Cortrian turned to the human, her long fur gave her an almost regal, as well as feral appearance. "You look scrumptious, _chuthnu_ape!" She lunged at him, grabbing the man's mouth in her jaws, as he shrieked and thrashed against his restraints.

"Cut coms," yelled Captain Benson. "Cut the fucking Coms."

As Karen reached for the button to cut the signal, the Cortrian released the man's mouth from her jaws, as he continued to scream and fail about. As the image faded, I could see that the man's lips and cheeks were torn almost to the bone, with blood pouring from his chin. "That's, ah, that."

"Fucking Animalkind!" yelled Captain Benson. "If the fucking cunts want to torture him, we should not give them the satisfaction of an audience." He fell heavily into his seat. "We can't do a damn thing. We can't help him." He punched the armrest of his seat so hard, I feared I could hear a bone crack. "God fucking dammit!"

The visage of horror was finally sinking in, as I stared down at my lap. "Oh my god." I wanted to cry. I didn't know the guy, but what I had seen, still unhinged me. "Captain. I request your permission to write a report, to send to the FSA and the Federation military."

"Permission granted," said the captain. "Actually, lets both work on the report. This is fucking getting out of hand."

I was in a daze, as I followed the captain through the corridor to a nearby door to the left, which was his office. The door slid open to reveal a very orderly room with a desk, two chairs, and a computer screen. There were shelves for things like physical books, but the captain never stocked such decoration in his office. He hardly used this room, preferring to work in his quarters. But this was different. The captain sat at his desk, turned on the screen, and we went to work on the report. Watching the footage again on the screen, was plain unpleasant, but it was a necessary evil, as we incorporated the video, and our recent logs into the report.

* * * *

Visiting Nakhara had been a great way for me to take my mind off of the recent events. Her affectionate behavior no longer bothered me as much. It still made me nervous, and I sometimes found myself shaking, but this also made me aroused, at the same time. I waved the fob at the receptor, and the transparent door slid aside.

Nakhara sat on her bed as she watched me, as I brought her a meatloaf dinner. I set the box down on her lap, then, nervously, I sat on the bed, next to her. She opened the box, and slowly took the fork in her hand, then awkwardly began poking at her meat.

"Just take it slow," I prompted her. "You're still learning."

"The closest our people have to this, is a two pronged device used by one tribe that lives on one of the equatorial islands. I've never tried using one of those, myself." She speared a hunk of meatloaf, and brought it to her mouth.

"Karen, our communications tech, is going to take care of you, while I'm gone on the mission."

"I wish you could take me along." she said as she took another forkful of food to her muzzle.

"Our service craft can only support a few people, and I'm only bringing those who are pertinent to the mission." I tried to think of something that might help her mood. "Karen is an anti-Zephenidian xenophobic bigot. She's caring for you as part of her punishment for insubordination. Don't try to hurt her, and don't try to rape her. You can still make her uncomfortable, if you want."

She turned towards me, her ears pricked forward. "You're, ah, giving me permission to, ah, torture your crew member?"

"Ah, only with love. She was ordered to submit, if you got overly affectionate, though only do this for a couple a minutes at a time. If she gets scared, let her leave."

"I will treat her well," she turned back and speared her potato with the fork. "I'd much rather be with you. But I will try to occupy myself as best as I can, while you're away."

"There will also be a few other crew members who will keep an eye on things, so Karen can't do anything stupid, like pull a blaster on you, or anything." Over the past few days, me, Daryl, and Captain Benson had been mentioning Nakhara in conversation, with the rest of the crew. Though some were afraid of her, the consensus was, that she should be allowed some freedom from her cell, with major restrictions. "I'm going to move you next door. No more being a prisoner. You're restricted to this deck. You're not allowed to use the ladders, unless escorted by me, or Captain Benson."

She almost dropped the box of food from her lap, as she turned to face me. "You're, you're giving me some freedom?"

"There's a few other rules." I said. "Other than some light affection torture on poor Karen, do not attempt to initiate in any seduction or sexual behavior with the crew. If a crew member shows interest, and is clear about it, then sure, you and the crew member can do what you want as long as no one gets injured. Just keep in mind, many of the crew are scared of you. Also, interspecies sex is not fully accepted by many of my people's cultures, so respect people's privacy requests. So, yeah, be careful and treat everyone with respect."

"I understand," she said, as she continued eating her meal. "I'm sorry about what happened. Cortrians are always bad news. They, along with other members of their little syndicate don't celebrate the hunt like my species does. All they care about, is killing, torture, rape, and eating parts of victims while they're still alive. And I think some of this has rubbed off on my species over the years. I've never had one serve aboard my ship when I was the_hhrff_, though early in my career, I did serve on a ship with one. I never liked him. He was brutish and a horrible creature. He wanted live chuthnu for sport. He'd rape, kill, usually both at the same time. We had a room designated as an arena for him to do horrible things to live prey, usually chuthnu. We'd call it the room of horrors. He's torment victims, sometimes for hours, biting them, tearing their flesh, raping, usually while eating the victim's face off. He would eat too much of the meat, often ruined the rest by spilling the victim's own bowel contents all over it. We'd have to hose down the walls and floor, because all the gore would otherwise rot, and stink up the ship. Our hhrff loved having him on the crew, and enjoyed the arena shows. The Cortrian eventually died during a mission. He thought he could take on an armed group of_chuthnu_ without a weapon."

"I've killed a few, myself," I added. "They scare the fuck out of me."

"I have a request." she said, abruptly, as she appeared to want to change the subject.

"What do you have in mind?" I asked her.

She put down her fork, and turned to face me again, as she seemed lost in thought for a few moments. "If we both survive this, and you return from your mission, I want you to spend the night with me, with no inhibitions."

Her request startled me, though I should have seen it coming. I was extremely reluctant. "Ah, I don't think..." I watched her lower her lead, appearing dejected. I reached my hand to her, and placed it on her shoulder. Her fur was long and coarse, much like the fur of a German Shepherd, and her shoulder was warm to the touch. Maybe that was another thing that bothered me. This was a different species, but the familiarity of her species to, say, a dog, somewhat unnerved me. Intimate situations with Lutrians never bothered me in this way, for the simple fact, that there was more mental disconnect between Lutrians and their ancestral animal form, since no one I had known, ever owned a pet otter. I had to look past this. "I'm sorry. If we make it through this, I, ah. You can have me, and do whatever you want with me, as long as you don't injure, spindle, or mutilate me."

She nosed, then licked my arm. "Thank you."

* * * *

Trying to get the crew motivated for a possible movie night, was bordering on impossible. Everyone seemed downright frightened. Only those who were on the bridge actually witnessed the torture of the captain of the starliner, but word had spread quickly among the crew. Drill after drill was conducted, while Sam, when he wasn't training Daryl, and making sure the hyperdrive didn't explode, worked at trying to create a possible working version of the Motrician ship, for simulation battles. We had limited information about the ship's capabilities, including shields, and weapons, other than the borderspatial missiles, which fortunately, they likely only had one left. The simulation battles were not encouraging.

As I walked with Daryl through the corridor, to the bridge, he appeared very pensive. "We got them last time, but, we died."

"She targeted the Blade, yeah. But that did it. Captain Benson torpedoed her ass."

"It's just that we need both ships, and we'd have to sacrifice ourselves."

"Daryl," I reminded him. "We're not going to fight them, if we can help it. That's the military's job. We're just going into a pirate base, and we'll probably find everyone's suffocated, or something." I sighed. "You know, today is the forth of July, back on earth, ah, non-relativistically, you know, if you called your parents and got a real-time hyperwave signal. There's probably some firework displays in and around your home town. Ah, the last bit of pre-contact nationalism still lives on."

"Damn, I've not been paying attention to the date. I first got here on March 11. Almost four months, damn. I ought to be on Laeness IV by now, or on my way home."

"Yeah." I approached the door to the bridge. Daryl, you probably should get ready. I've got to man my station. We'll be entering the system in less than an hour."

* * * *

The bridge lurched and shuddered as the streaks and swirls of hyperspace decelerated on the main display. I slowly drew the throttle forward, as the engine whined and the ship protested. After several minutes, I disengaged the drive. A green flash lit the viewport, and the swirls were gone, and the ship stabilized. Adjusting the ship's heading, the view panned towards the upper left, until a large deep-yellow sun appeared on the viewport, then the sight of a large streaked gray-white crescent.

Scot, who sat at the weapons console, asked, "I thought the sun in this system is supposed to be red."

"That's why we tend to call these, M-dwarfs, these days, rather than red dwarfs." I informed Scot. "Some of the really really small ones actually do appear red. Most of the ones that are likely to have habitable planets, appear that yellow-slight-orange color."

The crescent planet slowly grew as we neared it. The planet was whitish-gray with a hint of yellow from the star's illumination. Most gas giants in a star's habitable zone, tend to be gray-blue to light gray, due to an abundance of water clouds in its atmosphere. As we slowly passed the planet, a small blue and yellow mottled crescent came into view. "Beginning final approach to Ik'narr IIb. We should arrive in one hour, thirty-five minutes."

"Art, I'm going to have Barry relieve you. I think it's time for you to assemble your crew, and disembark. We can take it from here."

"Aye, captain," I said in agreement. Even though it was late in my shift, and curling up on a nice bed would be awesome about now, getting underway was the sensible thing to do. "Checking the status on the cats." I said, as I checked a screen on my navigation console. "We have five days, and three hours before the Motricians arrive. This is going to cut it, pretty damn close. I guess you guys will be safe here. I'm More worried about us." I got to my feet. "Okay, going to prep for launch. We have a den of thieves to save."