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The Wolf Hunters

Episode

6

Oubliette

Part 1

By

Lutrian

ver. 3.00

Daryl sat in the left seat, next to Carl, as I stood behind them, in the cockpit-like bridge of the Blade of Truth. Jurrukush stood to my left, and Jerrard to my right. Daryl pressed a button, causing the entire cockpit to come to life. Several screens switched on, displaying the KalyX version 12.8 logo. The logo disappeared, replaced by the computer's user interface, and status displays. Everything was green. I said, "Let's see. A little music here. Computer, playlist 4, resume at the last song." The unmissable guitar riff of "Don't Fear the Reaper," by The Blue Oyster Cult began playing. "Let's take her out. Press that button on the top back of the console. This disengages the docking clamps. Do keep in mind, while docked, the _Sabre's_bridge crew can override the launch, to prevent theft."

"Got it." He reached to the back of the console and touched a flat white luminous pad. It glowed red for a few seconds, then green. The ship lurched slightly, with a metallic thump, which was barely audible over the music.

Carl turned to Daryl, and watched him work the controls as well. "Just like learning to drive one of those old manual cars."

"Right now, the ship's navigational and velocity settings are locked to the_Sabre of Justice_. You can set any target as your reference point, any ship, any planet, or any nearby star. You're just telling your ship what you want as your zero point when it comes to velocity." I motioned towards the throttle. "Just slowly draw her back. Bring her up to ten meters per second."

"Aye!" Daryl complied. After a few moments, he complained. "Ah, this song is starting to creep me out. Can we change it?"

"Maybe this wasn't the right song for this," I agreed. "I like some of the old stuff, though. Ah, what are you into?" I gazed out the viewport, watching the multitude of tiny pinprick stars, and the Milky Way forming a streak though the view.

"As for old stuff, I really like The Cure," said Daryl. "You were probably alive back then."

"Hey, stop that," I said. "Ah, actually I think I missed them by about twenty years, so almost. Computer, compile playlist. Artist 'The Cure', random order. Play." Watching Daryl as the music changed, I pointed to a circular area of the navigation console. "Use the manual column and take us around, a one-eighty. Once you're centered back at the Sabre, take us along dorsal and fly past her, at her current heading."

Daryl placed his hand on the virtual control-pad and the view began to pan to the right. Soon, a large dark shape, with two bright blue-white flares on either side, came into view. "Ah, I don't think Lovecats is the best song for our current situation."

"Yeah, agreed," I said, though I made no attempt to skip the song. "Easy does it. Bring her up and over."

The view panned up slightly, as the large dark shape slipped below the edge of the screen. The silvery hull of the Sabre of Justice, illuminated by the rich yellow of the local sunlight, slid past, below us. Many small details were visible, the various thruster vents, numerous handholds, the occasional external tool locker, glided below us, until the barely noticeable bridge dome drifted past. The yellowish-gray gas giant dominated the view, with the habitable moon some distance behind it, both appearing as half-lit spheres.

"Check all the status displays. Make sure we're good to go." As Daryl went to work, I watched Jurrukush rest a hand on the back of Daryl's chair. Jerrard seemed to fidget nervously, which didn't help my unease with the guy. "We'll deal with the sleeping quarters arrangement, once we're fully underway."

"Everything is green," said Daryl. "So where are we going, exactly."

Jerrard removed a small chit from his trench coat pocket, and handed it to me. "The coordinates. Just plug it into your nav console. Oubliette should appear on your nav map."

"Jerrard, if this turns out to be a virus, I'm going to have Jurrukush pull out your intestines and force feed them to you. Got it!"

"Damnit, trust me for once, please." said the rogue.

I avoided comment, as I handed the small storage device to Daryl. "Plug it in and set course. Carl, open coms channel to the Sabre."

"Coms open." said Carl.

"Captain Benson, do you copy. We're ready."

"The captain's voice came over the speaker. "You're clear to go."

"And captain, make sure Karen takes care of Nakhara. We'll be back in four or five days."

"Aye. Nakhara will be in good hands." said the captain.

"Thanks. Art out." After the com system clicked, I looked back at Daryl. "Okay, Daryl, you know the drill."

"Got it," he said. "Course laid in. Ah, it's in the Ashara Tarr, is this a good idea?"

"Most of that is a bit too high up in subspace." I informed Daryl. "This ship can only go about 1800, maybe 1900 if we push her. Most of the stuff you see on your nav screen, we'd have to be at 2500c or higher to hit it. So don't sweat it."

"Got it." After a moment, Daryl said, "The computer recommends that we head in this course as we begin our borderspace run."

"Just click on the course plot to let the computer know that you accept it, then engage the drive. Let the computer handle the jump."

Daryl touched the screen, then reached to the hyperdrive control. "Hyperdrive jump, in five, four, three, two, and one. Hold on!"

The screen flashed, and swirls and eddies of color began to flow past us. The ship shuddered and rocked, and the hyperdrive whined and rumbled. The view panned away from the planet on its own, as the autopilot took over.

"Point four light. Point five. Point six. You don't want to know how much I hate this."

"Just relax, kid," I encouraged. "Let the computer complete the jump. One day, I'll have you try this on manual."

"Ah," said Daryl as he obviously dreaded that possibility. He looked down at his navigation screen. "Someone must have been a fan of the movie, Labyrinth."

"Labyrinth," asked Jerrard?

"Old movie," said Daryl. "Art probably saw it when it was released."

"That joke's getting old," I complained, as I grabbed the back of Carl's seat, as the ship's shuddering grew more intense. I knew what movie Daryl was referring to, and thought it might make a good suggestion on movie night, once we made it back. I turned to Jerrard. "Old movie from the late twentieth century, starring a rather famous singer from that period."

Surveying the bridge, Jurrukush had grabbed onto the back or Daryl's chair to steady himself, while Jerrard was struggling to stay on his feet. The mists and eddies on the viewport were slowly accelerating, as the ship approached the speed of light, while traveling on the very edge of realspace, which eliminated most of the effects of time dilation. The minutes ticked as the ship continued to accelerate.

"Ah, we're at point eight-seven. Point nine. Point nine two. We're approaching the threshold." After a moment, an indicator on the console began to beep and flash. "Entering hyperspace, now!" A green flash lit the viewport, and the stars vanished, leaving the tunnel of color sweeping past. After a moment, Daryl said, "fifty c, one-hundred c, two hundred c. We're accelerating."

"Status on the Motrician vessel?" I asked. I pointed to one of the displays on his console. "The computer should be tracking its wake."

Darryl peered at the screen and made some adjustments using some touch based controls around the screen. "I see them, ah, they're about fifty-four light years away, traveling at about 4800c. Shit, this is cutting it close. Our ETA to Oubliette is just under forty-two hours. Their ETA to the Sabre is about one hundred hours. At least we're heading in the opposite direction from them."

"The_Sabre of Justice_ should be safe," I Said as I watched the mists whoosh past us on the viewport. "We get back, dock, and we'll be on our way home, and we finally can drop you guys off, ah, if you two really want to be dropped off."

"Art, I'm scared." said Daryl. "The fuckers went deep into Federation space to take out the starliner, just like I thought they would. They tortured the captain, and then sicked a fucking Cortrian on him. It's like they're trying to make this personal."

"We'll be fine." I tried to assure him, though I wasn't too sure myself.

"Why did Captain Benson, ah..." Daryl trailed off. "Ah, I don't know. Just because the captain knows the guy, ah," he stammered, probably because Jerrard was in earshot.

"Come on, let's get some rest. We'll need it."

* * * *

The_Blade of Truth_ was a small ship, about twenty meters long, and about six meters wide. At the forward end, was of course, the cockpit style bridge, with two seats. Extending from the bridge, was a narrow, fifteen meter long, corridor, which ended at the dual purpose airlock and teleport chamber. The first two doors on either side as one walked from the cockpit were the sleeping quarters, with the port one having a double bed, and a single bunk across from it. The starboard cabin had three beds, one along each wall. The next set of doors was the bathroom on the starboard door, and a tiny galley with a small table meant to seat four, on the port side. The last two doors were on either side of the airlock, both leading down a short flight of stairs, into the belly of the ship, where the engine room was, along with the cargo holds. The ship was functional, but not elegant. There were no real common areas for the crew to hang out and socialize, which to me, was a huge design flaw. I've actually thought about the feasibility of replacing this craft with a full sized captured Zephenidian Killslay class vessel. However, at about 25-30 meters long, and about three or four times the Blade's mass, the Sabre's docking berth and its docking clamps, would be totally inadequate. Such a large service craft would also severely effect the Sabre's performance, maneuverability, acceleration, and its maximum speed while in hyperspace. Well, a man could dream.

* * * *

Darryl was apparently trying not to blush as he stammered, "I, ah, I, I don't mind if you take the bunk. We're probably not going to fuck, or anything."

The port sleeping quarters had a queen-sized bed along the right wall, and a smaller standard-sized bed along the left wall. A rectangular viewport along the back wall was illuminated by a huge mass of green, which dissolved into purple, as we leisurely cruised through the hyperspatial void.

Carl chuckled as he stood behind me. "Art, he's giving you an invitation. This isn't my thing, so I'll be in the other room with that Jerrard fellow, ah," his voice dropped to a whisper. "with a crowbar hidden under my sheets."

Jurrukush sat on the large bed. "Chuthnu, do keep in mind, my kind lack sweat glands over most of our bodies. I will probably forgo the use of your shower facilities, since your water recycling capabilities is limited, here." He reached out with both arms, and dragged Daryl into his lap, causing him to almost trip. "Of course, if we did anything, I'd have to shower."

"Jurr, has Darryl ever showered with you, yet?" I asked. "The shower may be a bit small, but you two could just go in together. The water recycling system wouldn't be a problem with the sonic mist system that the shower, here, uses. You might have to give the system a few minutes between showers for the recycler to do its job. Though I do admit, the sonic mist system just aren't quite the same as a true full water shower."

Darryl chuckled slightly as he lay on Jurrukush's arms. "We've showered together on the Sabre. And Art, I'm sorry for what I've put you through over the past few months."

"You don't have to keep apologizing."

Carl slowly backed towards the door. "Ah, if it's all the same, I'm gonna retire, now. You guys have fun." The door opened automatically, and he slipped into the corridor, and into the other doorway, before the door of the room slid closed.

I fell onto my bed, laughing. "Oh gods. Carl thinks we're going to have an orgy in here."

Daryl blushed.

"Lights out!" I called. The cabin lights faded. The room was still fairly well lit by the intermittent green, blue, and occasional violet, from the viewport, making the room's lighting seem like something a 1960's hippie might devise, after binging on hallucinogens. "Do you want the viewport closed?" I asked.

Daryl glanced around the room while laying across Jurrukush's lap. "I like this. Keep it open."

"Okay." I stripped off my clothing and dumped it in a pile near the bed, then slid under the cool sheets.

"Art, I, ah." Poor Daryl. Every time he wants to talk about anything serious, his ability to talk seems to elude him. "Ah, ah, me and Jurr kinda talked. Ah."

"Daryl, don't be afraid of me. Come on, relax."

"Art, ah, I gave Jurr permission, ah, just with you, though."

"I guess Carl wasn't far off the mark," I said as I watched as Jurrukush gently pushed Daryl onto the bed, next to him.

"Not sure if I would, or could," said Daryl. "I mean, ah, with you. Nothing personal. I ah, I don't know. I can't fully keep up with Jurrukush, though, and I do know he really likes you."

"Ah, thanks, Daryl, and thanks Jurrukush. I guess I see this as a complement. Well, we should get some rest. Goodnight, you two. Pleasant dreams."

* * * *

I sat in the seat next to Daryl, as he studied the navigation and piloting side of the console. Jurrukush, Carl, and Jerrard stood around in the back of the bridge.

"I've been in this bizz for almost thirty years," said Carl. "I've always dreaded the oddball Cortrian. I'm glad they're not that common. About every four or five Zeph cruisers have a Cortrian or two. You can't even trust them to surrender properly."

Daryl turned his chair to Carl. "What do you mean? What do they do?"

"Let's see." Carl paused in thought. "In my service, on several ships, I probably personally seen about eight Zephs surrendering, submitting, seeking asylum, not counting the two we have, now. I heard, the Wolf Hunters, alone, have rescued and helped resettle dozens of Zephs per year. Probably thousands, so far. I've only heard of, maybe three or four Cortrians total, seeking asylum. Then there was that one about fifteen years ago."

Daryl asked, "What happened?"

"It involved a Wolf Hunter ship known as the Kodiak. I guess it was named that, because its captain is the only Uushtorian to have captained a Wolf Hunter ship, and only one of maybe six Uushtorians in the entire Wolf Hunter fleet. They disabled a Zephenidian_Morningstar_. A Cortrian surrendered, and asked for asylum. Once on the Kodiak, the Cortrian turned on them and attacked. It killed two of the crew who were guarding him, and seriously injured the captain. The captain was a nine-hundred pound bear-like Uushtorian, and the Cortrian just tore him up, with his teeth, and a knife it had hidden in its rectum. Then the Cortrian fled. The rest of the crew managed to trap it in the ship's ventilation system. When they sent two crew members in to take care of it, both were violently killed. Eventually, they had to seal most of the rest of the crew into the galley with the galley vent sealed, and had the rest of the crew in spacesuits. They vented the ship's entire atmosphere. They were so scared of that creature, that they wouldn't even trust that the Cortrian was dead. The ship was kept open to space for hours, until someone found and dragged the corpse out of one of the ventilation shafts."

"That's ah..." Daryl was obviously lost for words.

"That's why we rarely cut Cortrians any slack." I explained to Daryl, "We do have rules of engagement. We're supposed to let enemies surrender, and help them, if we can. Not every one of us upholds this, but we try. Zephenidians tend to be loyal as fuck. They're really a fucked over species, and tend to be quite sincere. There's been a few incidents of Zephenidians turning on their rescuers, but its very rare, maybe three or four times total, as far as I know. Cortrians, though. If they plead, beg, whatever. Even me, a known alien fucker, will put the blaster to its head and cook its brain in its skull. I don't take unnecessary chances."

"Art, you ever fought a Demon?" asked Carl.

"Once," I responded, recalling one of the most harrowing corridor fights I've experienced. "Those things are scary."

"Demon?" asked Daryl."

"Another one of the Animalkind," said Carl.

"I've heard of the, ah, Animalkind," said Daryl. "Though I don't know much about them."

"Members of the V'Nari Syndicate," I said. "Many of us call then the Animalkind, though personally, I hate the name. It's an insult to animals. The Cortrian government is basically the V'Nari Syndicate, a loose confederation of at least five species I'm aware of, but some researchers say that it may be over a dozen. What we call 'Demons' are a species of large marsupial, some type of killer sentient possum from hell. I killed one a few years ago. I actually did shit my pants."

Jerrard said, "I really have to respect you guys. We lost a bunch of good people several years ago, when we raided a Zephenidian ship that turned out to have a pair of Cortrians. Total wipe. Since then, we scan and make sure it's all wolves before we try to board. If we see anything else, we just all out destroy the ship."

"I'm just glad the V'Nari Syndicate is on the other side of Zephenidian space." I said. Daryl was lost in thought for a moment. "So, what exactly are the Animalkind? What sets them apart from, say, the Zephenidians, or those cats."

"I'm not sure, you'd really want to know. Basically, to sum it up, if you're not one of them, you're food, a threat, a rape toy, or a combination of these. Sometimes, it's even this way to some of their own, especially for what they consider slave species. The poor Erkai were a slave race. They managed to fight them off when a small fleet of Cholati attacked them. Fortunately the Choloti also attacked other vessels of the V'Nari syndicate, so the Erkai launched a counter attack on the V'Nari, while they were busy with the Cholati. That's one of the reasons the Erkai are oftentimes, paranoid as fuck."

Daryl just gazed down into his lap while contemplating. "I, ah, heard from a commentator on FedNews a few days ago, that the Zephenidian_Establishment_ may be in danger of falling to the Animalkind. I, ah, I don't know how likely of a scenario that would be, but if it happened, it ah, it would be a very bad thing, I think."

"Wait, what the fuck?" This very idea did take me by surprise. However, being it was from a commentator, chances are, he, or she, would hardly be an expert, "I've not been really watching the news that much, of late. I've been too busy planing this fools errand, as well as being aggressively pursued by a horny female Zephenidian."

"Ah, there's been a number of news people talking about this possibility. Maybe some people hope that the Zephenidian's government would be taken down."

Jurrukush rested a hand on Daryl's back. "hat would be news to me. But if it happened, it would be far worse to my people than the_Establishment of Prukak._"

"It wouldn't do us any favors," I said. "It could bring their raiding parties into this region. We could see open warfare."

Jerrard seemed aghast. "Shit, that's competition I do not want to see. Is that a realistic possibility?"

"No," I said. "It's very far fetched. Wishful thinking, people who want to see the Zephenidians suffer. If this did happen, it could the worst crisis, ever. This whole region could be crawling with Cortrians, Demons, rogue Zephenidians, and who knows what else. No_Establishment_ to take the meat to, just roving bands of Animalkind, out to prove themselves in battle, seeking trophies, finding members of other species to torture, rape, eat, or keep as slaves, ah, more likely a horrible combination of some or all of the above."

"Ah, ah." Daryl was stuck in his nervous stammer.

"That's one way to get me to quit the Dark Dominion," said Jerrard. "I'd probably flee back to earth, and try a more legitimate trade."

"We'd probably have to disband all these poorly settled far Colonies," interjected Carl. "Maybe even get rid of Alchoa II. Pull everyone back to maybe Laeness, and shore up our defenses. We'd be fucked. We'd either have to disband the Wolf Hunters, or provide support for the FINF."

"Look guys, it's not going to happen," I tried to assure everyone. "The Zephs have a military much like the Federation. They can hold their own. Hell, they're allies, or somewhat allies. I don't see that happening."

* * * *

The bathroom was small, with a stall with a toilet on the right-hand wall, with a urinal on the left. In the back, was the shower cubical. I stood in the shower as a series of vents blow hot dry air over my body to dry it. Once dry, I slid the door open, and stepped out of the cubical. My toothbrush was what was called a bitebrush, a bristled pad with a handle, made to fit inside the mouth, so that every tooth and every crevasse would be cleaned in just a few seconds. I applied a bit of toothpaste to both sides, placed it in my mouth and bit down, and chewed on the bristles for a few seconds. Once I finished, I rinsed it off, in the sink, then returned it to the cabinet. I donned a clean pair of underwear, and headed to my quarters.

I entered the room, and sat down on my bed. Jurrukush was giving Daryl a back massage on the larger bed. "I ah, I hope you're right." he said. "Ah, about the Zephenidians."

"I do too," I sighed, as a horrible idea struck me. "Though, who's not to say that it's not already happened, like centuries ago."

"What do you mean?" asked Daryl, as he leaned against Jurrukush, as he ran his claws along his back.

"The_Establishment_ itself might have been in part, a front for the V'Nari Syndicate. Ichtah Prukak might have involved the V'Nari syndicate when he founded the Establishment of Prukak. Maybe it's mostly just the Zephs that get send out this far, but I wonder." I shuddered at the very thought.

Jurrukush stopped in mid-stroke as he looked up at me with his ears drawn back. After a momentary pause, the Zephenidian growled. "Horrible idea, horrible. But this would explain much. It would explain how I was manipulated into, into," he whined loudly, then nibbled on the side of Daryl's neck.

This subject was making me wince as well, so I decided it needed a change. "Well, tomorrow's going to be a very busy day. I'm going to be risking becoming a human Popsicle to find why Jerrard's employers have failed to contact him."

Daryl tried to stifle a giggle, as Jurrukush was licking under his chin. "Is it possible they fired Jerrard? Basically fired him by cutting off all contact?"

I averted my eyes a bit, since Jurrukush's display of affection was causing me to sport an erection. "If they did that, they would have cut his access to their expense accounts."

"How do we know he still has access?" Daryl leaned into Jurrukush's massage and neck nibble. "I know he paid us some money, ah, but maybe that was his own money, or ah, money he might have embezzled, which could have resulted in his being fired."

"I, ah..." Daryl had caught me off guard. I never thought of that possibility, which surprised me. "That would suck. They'd be really pissed off, if that was the case, and he showed up at their airlock."

"Yeah. Art, ah, be careful down there, tomorrow."

"I will. I definitely will. We got a long day ahead. Let's get to sleep."

* * * *

There was a commotion as I awoke with a start. Daryl sat on his bed, bewildered, since Jurrukush was nowhere to be seen. "Something's up!" I yelled as I put my underwear on, and slid into my pants.

Daryl wheeled around on his bed. "What's going on! Where's Jurr?"

"No time!" I yelled, as I dove through the door, before it had a chance to fully open.

Jurrukush was manhandling Jerrard in the doorway next to the airlock. Jerrard was screaming, as he fought Jurrukush's tight restraint, as he was dragged back into the corridor. Jurrukush growled. "I caught this ape snooping around the hyperdrive."

"I was going to check on the cargo," protested Jerrard. "The hold's down there as-"

"Jerrard," I snapped. "You're not permitted down there without an escort. Did you tamper with anything?"

"No, no, I swear!"

"Because, if you so much as laid a hand on the hyperdrive or any component of my ship, I'm going to chuck you out the airlock, or have Jurrukush tear you apart. Got it!"

The man just looked down, as Jurrukush held him by his arms.

Jurr, take him to his quarters and keep him there, till we're ready to make planetfall. I stepped through the door of my quarters, and watched as Daryl finished buttoning the shirt of his uniform. "Daryl, I need you. We need to inspect things in Engineering to make sure that worm didn't fuck anything up down there."

Daryl sighed, as he followed me out the room and into the corridor. At the end of the hall, near the airlock, I entered the starboard door, and descended a short stairway. The air in the _Blade's_Engineering section was hot and stuffy. Turning right, which was towards the aft of the ship, was a large cylindrical section of the starboard sublight engine. There was a walkway which ran past the engine, under the low overhang of the airlock's floor, to the port sublight engine. The floor in the middle was a grate, where one could see the hyperdrive, below. To the left, was the door to the starboard cargo hold. I turned right, and back, along the walkway, with Daryl following. At either end of the grate, was a few rungs, which descended the one-and-a-half meter, or so, drop, to the ship's hyperdrive shaft.

The hyperdrive ran through a cramped crawlspace, in the belly of the_Blade of Truth_. The hyperdrive was similar in appearance to that of the Sabre of Justice, though tiny in comparison. It was a long tube with semi-transparent sections, filled with a green flowing plasma. The drive was about two-thirds of a meter thick, and was about eighteen or so meters long. "Daryl, take the other ladder, and help me with the inspection."

"Aye," said Daryl, as he dropped down on the far side of the drive. "Ah, what are we looking for?"

"Anything that's not supposed to be here. Signs of sabotage, a bomb, a tampered with console, just anything."

"Great." Daryl sighed again, and seemed frustrated. "If you guys have to go down one at a time, have that piece of shit go first, in case he tampered with something."

I ducked under the low ceiling, and slowly crawled along the humming glowing plasma filled tube. "Yeah. Those heavy spacesuits will likely require that we go down one at a time." I sighed.

Strip lights, and the glow of the drive, illuminated the access tunnel. Daryl's face peered over the drive. "Art, I'm sorry."

"Daryl, why do you keep apologizing." This did kind of frustrate me. "You don't have to apologize to me for nothing. I mean."

"Art, you reminded me of someone I knew back home. Ah, a person I knew in high school, one of my best friends, actually. I had a little bit of a crush on him, but I suppressed it. I didn't know if he was gay or straight. Then he started dating this chick, so, ah, I figured he was straight. I later found out that he was also sleeping with the captain of the school's basketball team, you know, a guy. A month later, I find out that him and his girlfriend got into a huge fight. So what does he do? He tells her. He tells her, to her face, that was fucking the school's basketball star. She approached me, since she knew I was gay, and told me that she didn't want me talking to him. My best friend, basically gone, taken away from me. I don't know if they stayed together, or broke up. They were still together after graduation, and ah, oh well."

I really felt for him, and his loss. "I, ah, I'm sorry."

"You reminded me of him." Daryl said, softly. "You both have that same little, ah, I don't know, ah, longish face, like, ah, weaselly, ah, ish."

I laughed. "Ah, Weaselly, huh?"

"Ah, ah," he seemed a bit defensive. "Ah, not in a bad way, per se."

"But I guess you're right, in some ways," I said. "I probably could have done something stupid like that, back in my 20s, though back than, I thought of myself as straight. I spent my mid 20s picking up whores. Some were ah, guys, cross-dressers, and some were transgendered. Some of them, especially some of the women, were really skanky pieces of shit, as well. Then I got picked up by a Lutrian diplomat and I got rished and ravished. My god, that was one hell of a night."

Daryl sobbed and sniffled slightly. "Art, I'm sorry about everything. Ah, and sorry for apologizing all the time. Ah, when we were having our hyperdrive repaired a couple of months ago, I should have come with you, and not ruined things."

"Don't tear yourself apart over this. Look, just put the past behind you. Concentrate on the present and future. You went from being a nobody, to ending up with one of the sexiest hunks of Zephenidian I've ever seen, as a boyfriend."

Daryl giggled nervously. "What about Nakhara?"

I laughed. "I'd give Jurrukush the edge there, but, if I was in a bed between both Jurrukush and Nakhara, I think my balls would explode."

"Ah, ah, Art," Daryl stammered. "I ah, want you to know. Both you and Jurrukush have done more for me, then, ah, anyone else in my life, and I really appreciate it. Thank you."

I could tell that I was blushing, which was definitely a bit odd, since it was usually Daryl who was the blusher. "You're welcome." I said.

"I think we, ah, have something in common." Daryl still peered at me from the gap between the top of the hyperdrive, and the ceiling of the access shaft.

"What's that?" I asked.

"We were both helped by someone from a different species. Though I think I helped Jurrukush as much as he helped me. He was about to kill me. Here I was on his transporter pad holding the useless wreckage of the captain's gun, with Jurrukush about to gut me like a fish with a, ah, intestine hook weapon. Then you guys blew up his engine room, killing his mate in the process. Ah, yeah, with him, he had to lose someone he loved. He, ah, he worked with me, teaching me to trust him, at the same time, unlearning his _Establishment_propaganda. I was watching him change. It was an emotionally wrenching time for both me us." Daryl sniffled slightly.

"Similar, but definitely kinda different in one regard," I said. "You had more of an emotional time, and a lot of issues to work through. Me, sure I had a lot of inhibitions when it came to interspecies stuff, and I almost didn't accept. But my brain latched onto an opportunity which I wasn't sure I'd experience again for a long time. For me, it was more of a hedonistic banquet of otter flesh."

"One of my doctors from when I was really little, thought I might have the A-spec mental trait, but my folks never bothered to follow up on it. I think they used to call it, Asparagus Syndrome or something like that."

"Aspergers Syndrome," I corrected him. This did not surprise me, though I was not one to pry into people's private mental health issues. "Did you get any help for it?"

"Not really. My folks never followed up on it, and they seemed to forget about it. They did tell me once, when I was, like, fifteen or so. Hell, I almost forgot about it myself. I wanted to forget about it, like I was scared of being labeled. It's like that planet named Oubliette, a planet forgotten by its own sun, left to die in the cold void, all alone. It's like I made an oubliette in my mind, and threw this, ah, label, away, inside.

"That's ah, rough," I responded.

"Just don't tell anyone else, please." Daryl had a small tear running down his cheek. "I guess I wanted to fish this out of my little oubliette, to show you, but I want to toss it back inside, to, ah, maybe forget about, again."

"I won't tell anyone, Daryl." I watched him crack a slight smile. "And thank you for opening up to me. I really appreciate that."

"You're welcome," said Dary, as his smile widened.

"Okay, let's finish inspecting this thing."

I worked along the crawlspace looking for the slightest sign of the smallest anomaly, and paid special attention to the series of transition coils, which occupied the rear half of the drive. There was no sign of any tempering as I crawled past the transition coils, and along a section of transparent tube which flowed with greenish blue plasma. As neared the end of the crawlspace, I asked, "Daryl, how does the hyperspatial inversion manifold look on your end?"

"Everything looks fine, here. I'm not sure if the creep could have gotten this far. I think Jurrukush caught him pretty quickly."

"I hope so. I'd almost rather find something. Makes me worry that there's something that we missed."

"Probably a good idea that we check the sublight engines." Daryl added. "And the RLS system."

"Yeah, I agree," I sad, as I started crawling back along the access tube. "Probably we should check the hold as well, especially the spacesuits." Stopping at a panel, with a status monitor, I took a quick glance at the screen. Everything appeared nominal. I heard Daryl moving quietly along the crawlspace on the other side of the drive. "Daryl, thanks again. Thanks for trusting me, for once."

* * * *

With a flash, we exited borderspace. Daryl sat to my left. Behind me, Carl released his grip on the back of my seat, where he had held himself steady during the ship's bumpy travel through borderspace. Jurrukush has braced himself against the wall, near the doorway to Jerrard's quarters, where he was confined for the time being. Some kind of raucous heavy metal played from the ship's sound system. Turning my attention to the viewport, I said, "Use the ship's scanners to locate any nearby stars and planets. There should only be one large mass."

"Got it." said Daryl.

"Just select approach on the computer, and set it for standard equatorial orbital insertion. The ship will do the rest."

"Shit, it's a biggy," Daryl worked the controls of his console.

My attention was directed at the star filled viewport, which began to pan. A perfectly round blotch of pure blackness, obstructed the stars ahead. "Use the visual sensor interface to augment the view. Let's get a look at her."

Daryl made the appropriate adjustments. The stars brightened, then dimmed as the computer compensated. The planet turned into a gray-white, featureless sphere.

"Oubliette." said Daryl. "It's a class F rogue planet. Diameter is 18,909 kilometers. Mass is 2.93 that of Earth. Planet rotates along two axes, kinda slowly tumbles. You guys are going to be a bit heavy. Just over one point three g's."

"Atmospheric conditions?"

"Ah," Daryl pulled up more data on his screen. "Ah, nitrogen at 65 percent. Hydrogen is at 28 percent, helium at 6 percent. Trace amounts of argon, methane, ethane, and other light hydrocarbons. Surface pressure is at 4.8 bars, and temperature is about eighty or ninety kelvin. Nitrogen fog is present. The atmosphere is heated by extensive volcanism and geothermal sources." Daryl lightly tapped his screen. "Ah, this isn't right. I detect a vessel in low orbit."

"It may be one of their ships," I said. "Their hospital ship,Dominion, maybe. It would be a large vessel similar in size to the Sabre of Justice. Okay, time to bring Jerrard out of his quarters."

"Aye." Carl said, as he walked down the corridor to where Jurrukush kept watch.

"The ship is not powered, and its orbit is slowly decaying." Daryl stared at the screen, then tapped it again, as if he wasn't sure if it was working properly. "It appears to be damaged. Actually destroyed. One-hundred and thirteen meters long, about forty wide. It may be the ship you described."

Carl and Jurrukush escorted Jerrard to the cockpit. I turned to face him. "One of your ships is in orbit, or what's left of it."

"Our ships, especially the Dominion, is not supposed to ever be here. It can't be." Jerrard seemed agitated. "Why are they here?"

"You tell me," I said. "Someone destroyed them."

"This, ah, this," he stuttered. "Turn on your com. I need to raise the base."

I activated the communications' system on my console. "Okay, coms open."

"Jerrard Henningsen to Oubliette Base! Do you copy!" He paused for a moment. "Do you copy." He eyed me suspiciously. "Is this even working?"

"It should be. I don't see why not." I checked the console, and everything was green. "They ether don't want to talk to you, as in, they fired you. Or, in light of the wrecked ship, ah, there might not be anyone to hail."

"This can't be!" Jerrard yelled again. "We, ah, we got to find out what happened to them. They have to be alive. My people are professionals. Some are ex military. We can handle ourselves."

Checking my screens, and glancing over at Daryl's, I made note of our approach to the planet. "We'll be in orbit in about an hour or so. Daryl, bring us within visual of the wreckage. I don't like this."

* * * *

The starboard cargo hold was about fifteen meters long, and just over three meters wide. Reaching into a crate, I lifted an orange molded helmet, with a fishbowl style faceplate, and set it down on the floor. Jerrard was unpacking the other suit from another crate, while Jurrukush stood behind him. Jarrard lifted a small plastic bottle from his crate. "You'll probably want to apply this to your faceplate before putting your helmet on. It's a defogging solution, that also helps keep ice crystals from obscuring your view."

"Got it," I said, as I found the bottle of defogger in a pouch inside the crate.

"I assume you packed some kind of cold weather emergency garments. Once on the planet, the inside of the suit will get very cold, very fast."

"They're in the bin at the back of the hold," I said, as I motioned to a large translucent plastic container in the far corner.

"Okay, that will give us about fifteen minutes or so of surface time."

I lifted the heavy full body garment from the box. It was bright orange with white trim, made to provide maximum visibility in adverse conditions. "I've used both skin-tight and standard-style spacesuits. Anything I need to know?"

"This is a X438 revision D extreme environment suit. A power-system on the backpack will make the suit semi-rigid, and will automatically adjust to the ambient pressure. A layer of vacuum foam provides insulation. The suit's computer is voice controlled, so you can control everything such as the visual augment system and suit radio via voice commands."

"Aye" I said. "Ah, what happens if there is a failure of the suit's main power system?"

"Ah," paused Jerrard. "Things get rather unpleasant. There is a backup, but it's small, and handles the most basic suit functions. If the rigidity system fails, the emergency system mediately dumps air into the suit to match the ambient pressure to prevent the suit from collapsing around you. This would likely happen too fast for you to pop your ears, and you'll probably be injured, but alive. It's just plain air, so the nitrogen would get ya, but it would buy you enough time to get help."

"Sounds fun," I sad, as I laid the suit onto the deck, while inspecting it for any signs of damage. The suit was obviously not new, but the condition seemed fairly good. The bottom of the crate was occupied by the suit's black backpack, and torso unit, which held the air supply, power cells, and other important systems.

"The suit is going to be about ninety pounds with the backpack, ah, until you're on the planet. Then it will be about a hundred and twenty-five pounds or so."

"Lovely," I sighed.

The wall intercom beeped. I walked over to it, and pressed the button. "Art here."

Daryl's voice came through the speaker. "We're approaching the derelict. It's a mess. Don't detect any bodies, no power, no bridge, nothing. It's fucking shredded."

"Animalkind?" asked Jerrard.

"Doubt it. Zephs, maybe, the cats?" Turning back to the com, I said, "Daryl, I'm headed topside." I clicked off the com. "Jerrard and Jurrukush, come."

I stepped through the doorway of the hold, turned right, and walked up the steps to the door leading into the main corridor. I hurried to the cockpit.

On the screen, was a tumbling mass of junked starship. It was difficult to tell how the ship might have appeared before being destroyed. Much of the ship looked like a latticework of bent and broken supports, with most of its hell shredded, or missing.

I sighed, and lightly cursed under my breath. "I'd love to get the ship's logs, but, there's nothing to board. We don't have the time to sort through hundreds of tons of debris. Not with those cats on their way. Anything else you can read from the wreck?"

"It's completely open to space. No power, nothing. Almost no residual heat. It's been here for at least a couple of weeks."

Jerrard frowned. "That's the Dominion, all right. They were the ones I talked to last. They said something about an emergency back at base."

I wheeled around to face him. "Why the fuck didn't you tell us that, earlier." I turned to Daryl. "Long range scan! We may be in trouble!"

"I, ah, I didn't think," said Jerrard.

"Something happened to your base. Your ship heads back. Ambush." I looked over Daryl's shoulder. "Anything."

"There's nothing. I don't see any, ah, got something. Two small vessels, ah, actually it's one, ah, it's another wreck, or is it part of the larger wreck. There's some more debris on the other side of the planet. Ah, no bodies."

"What about vessels, like something threatening."

"Nothing," said Daryl.

"Scan for neutrinos. Ships produce a lot of those, and even neutrino suppressors won't help out here."

"I've been scanning for neutrinos." Daryl seemed frustrated, even a bit frightened.

"What about wakes?" I asked.

"Nearest wake is ah, it's a Federation freighter, commercial. AFC registry, about ten light years away. This area's quiet. We've got the edge of that big swirly thing over us."

I turned to Jerrard. "I guess we need the coordinates of Oubliette base."

"It should be highlighted on your screen."

Daryl peered through a small screen. "Found it. How did you build that thing?"

"We didn't," answered Jerrard. "It's an old abandoned Zephenidian prison. Probably built elsewhere, shipped here, and somehow soft-landed onto the surface. Don't know if it's old Zephenidian Empire, or new Establishment stuff."

"Very limited power. There is a point heat source, ah, I think it's near the base's airlock. Ah, there's no transport damper. This should make your job easier."

"Not really," said Jerrard. "We use a snap field damper."

"Ah, what?" asked Daryl.

I glared at Jerrard. "What the fuck kind of operation are you guys running?" I turned to Daryl. "A snap field damper is an insanely powerful version of a transport dampener. It's a security system used by some high end military bases, and some military ships use it as a backup. If the security system detects a transport, the field snaps on, severing the transit conduit, and disrupting the confinement field. Instant death and destruction to anyone, or anything being transported."

"Geez!" Daryl turned and glared at Jerrard, then turned back to his console.

"Okay, we got to get moving," I said. "Daryl, keep monitoring. Carl, prepare the transporter. Jerrard, time to suit up."

* * * *

Spacesuits are never particularly easy to don, but these were much more difficult and annoying. Applying the defogging solution to the inside of the helmet, was the easy part. Then we had to bundle up in the fluorescent orange and mirror-silver stripped emergency cold weather survival suits. Sweating profusely, I slid my legs into the trouser section of the spacesuit, until my feet came to rest inside the boots. Slipping my arm through the sleeves, I carefully fumbled my fingers around inside my gloves, till I was able to get my fingers to slide into the proper finger-tubes of the glove. The rest of the suit zipped up around my torso. The torso unit and backpack were a single piece, which Jerrard had to lower over my head, which sealed around a band just below my chest. I had to help Jerrard with his backpack and torso piece, as well, which was more difficult, since I was weighed down with mine. The weight of the backpack made walking difficult, as I moved slowly and deliberately around the cargo hold. "Damn, I'm soaked in sweat in this thing."

"You might want to make sure the flaps of the hip pockets are secured so they don't snag anything. They're for tools, scanning equipment, weapons, though they have to be specially made to survive in the super-cold atmosphere."

"Got it."

"Helmets," said Jerrard. "Just place it on the ring and give it a turn. The suit will automatically power up."

I slowly bent down to grab my helmet, which was not easy with about forty kilograms of equipment on my back. I placed the helmet onto the ring, and turned it till it snapped into place, facing forward. Displays appeared against my helmet visor, showing power and air level, as well as pressure, both inside and outside of the suit."

Jerrard called out, "Suit light on!" A bright headlamp switched on, above the faceplate of his helmet.

I called out the same command, to activate my headlamp as well.

"During transport, relax your body. The suit will turn rigid once materialization is complete, and the confinement field equalizes the pressure. It will take a second or so for the joints in the suit to work again. The gravity will hit you hard, but try to keep standing. If you fall, the greater contact with the ground will make your suit much colder, much faster. Once we materialize, you will start getting cold almost mediately. We'll have to work quickly."

I slowly trundled to the door of the hold, which slid open, and I slowly walked up the stairs. Carl stood in the corridor in front of the open airlock. He looked at the suit, and sighed. "We're going to have to bring you down one at a time. There's not enough room on the pad."

"Great." I said. I could tell that the helmet muffled my voice pretty badly.

"Because of our small hyperdrive," said Carl, "once I set you both down, I'd only be able to transport one of you back up, in the event of an emergency. It will take about fifteen minutes before I can do a double transport. So keep this in mind. There's not going to be much of a safety margin."

"Okay, this is not going to be fun," I sighed.

"The dense super-cold atmosphere is going to present its own problems. The transport would have to be done with the outer door of the airlock open, to disperse the atmosphere that would come back in the reverse field."

"Aye," I responded. "Did you get the ruggedized PortaScan unit."

Carl lifted a black box like device from the floor. "Is this it?"

"Just put it in my right utility flap." I motioned to my hip pocket. I felt Carl push the box into the suit pocket, before he closed the flap over it.

"Thanks." I stepped into the airlock, approaching the outer door, then I turned to face Carl and the suited Jerrard. "The teleport pad is the glass disk just inside the inner door. Jerrard, you're going first."

Jerrard nodded, which I barely saw through the glare of his suit's headlamp, as he entered the airlock and stood on the pad.

"Ready?" asked Carl. "And Art, please don't fall out of the airlock."

"Ready," I replied.

The inner door slid closed. A slight hiss could be heard, and I felt my suit stiffen slightly. A few moments later, the outer door slid aside. The void of space was filled with a sea of bright stars. The stars abruptly stopped where the planet arced into view, below us. There was no visible detail, just pure blackness from where the planet obscured the stars, behind it.

Carl's voice came over the suit's radio. "Jerrard, are you ready?"

"Aye, engage," responded Jerrard.

A hazy blue field appeared around the rogue, along with a band of blue-white energy, which spread apart and engulfed him, silently, in blue-green glitter. The blazing bands converged, and faded, leaving a white human-sized column on the pad, inside the field. Fog issued from the field, lightly blowing past me, leaving traces of frost on the inside of the airlock. The field dissipated after a few moments, leaving a small amount of snow on the transporter disk.

Carl's voice sounded over my suit's radio. "I'm setting coordinates to about two meters away from Jerrard. Let me know when you're ready."

I stepped onto the disk. "Okay, Carl, energize."

The field surrounded me, and the bands formed, and diverged quietly, with only a barely noticeable hum sounding through my boots. The gravity ebbed as the fields reached the top of the energy field, and the disk. The fields converged, and gravity began to assert itself. Everything became bright, almost blinding, as my headlamp beam began to reflect off an almost opaque wall outside the field. The bands merged, and faded, but the field held steady, as fog began to form around me. I felt the suit begin to collapse slightly, then it stiffened. The faint hum that I could hear through my boots, now became apparent around me. The suit felt as if it was turning to lead, as the planet's gravity attempted to drag me to my knees. I could not tell if I was still within the transporter's confinement field, other than. the hum. A digital gage displayed the rising air pressure, as it rapidly counted from 0 to 4824 milibars. The hum faded once the pressure equalized.

There was nothing I could see outside, but blinding white, from where my suit's light was being reflected in my face. I brought my hand up in front of my view, and could barely see my fingers. Looking down at my boots, the ground was ice and snow which glistened with a layer of nitrogen dew. Despite the thick atmosphere, the air was extremely calm, with no wind that I could detect. I decided to try to the suit's radio. "Jerrard, do you read me?"

I heard his voice from outside, as well as the radio, "I'm about ten feet ahead of you. Turn on your suit's visual augments. Say, 'vis-augment on, intelligent.' This will switch it to the best it detects, and will even turn it off when it's not needed."

"Vis Augment on, intelligent," I uttered. The fog lessened as a grainy computerized enhanced image of my surroundings appeared in my view. I could see a long range of mountains far to the, whatever, since the compass didn't work properly. Jerrard was ahead of me, standing in front of a gray metal wall. Then I noticed the shredded and melted remains of a heavy airlock door in front of him.

"Art, over here!" yelled Jerrard. "I don't like this."

I slowly waddled towards Jerrard, feeling sluggish and weighed down. The air inside the suit was quickly becoming chilly. The suit's thermometer displayed the outside temperature as 87 degrees kelvin. These conditions were downright deadly. One tear in the suit, and I'd probably be dead in seconds, flash-frozen into a slab of premium Zephenidian Chow. The planet's gravity, coupled with the heavy environment suit, meant that in a crisis, I wouldn't be able to move much faster than a labored waddle. I reached the open airlock, and stared at the damage.

The door seemed to have been hastily cut with some kind of insanely hot plasma torch, leaving some parts jagged, and other areas melted and smooth. I stepped through the destroyed door, into the airlock, being mindful about any sharp jagged pieces of metal. Four meters inside, was the wreckage of the inner door, similarly destroyed, revealing the dark interior of the facility.

Jerrard stared at the damage, as he slowly stepped over part of the ruined inner door, into the interior of the alien prison. "No!" he gasped. "It can't be." I followed Jerrard through the gaping hole in the airlock door, into the Dark Dominion base.