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The Wolf Hunters

Episode

9

Animalkind

By

Lutrian

ver. 3.02

Haight-Ashbury district, San Francisco, summer, 2067, in a unnamed private club....

This wasn't the first Trans-Species Love-in, but this was the first one I had attended. As beams of red and violet cut through the thick dry ice fog, two tall sinewy forms gyrated in the shadows in front of me. Light glimmered from their dark shiny fur, with the occasional glint from silver chains they wore wore around their necks, and small hoops on their tiny ears. Their tapered tails, sweeping around, behind their knees, added an exotic mystique to their slim, naked forms. Each had a small conical mound on their lower belly, just below their navels, which revealed them to be male. San Francisco nights played, almost as an anthem for this evening.

One of the forms stepped forward and threw his strong, but silk-furred arms over my shoulders while pressing his wet lips against my neck. The other joined the embrace, and began nibbling on my ear, as I felt both of them gently grind against my hips. Eric Burdon distinctive voice continued, "Old child young child feel alright On a warm San Francisco nig--" The scene shattered like glass, with the sound of a phonograph needle skipping across an old vinyl record.

* * * *

Sputtering and coughing, I rolled onto my elbows, and gasped, as my lungs felt like they were burning from within. Clawed hands grabbed my arms, and threw me onto my back, again. The voice hissed, "Do not move!" Realizing that I had been stripped naked, made me feel even more vulnerable.

I opened my eyes, which stung and watered profusely. The foul stench of ammonia and sulfur filled my sinuses. Struggling to get my bearings, I tried squinting at the dark blurred details around me, but the hands that continued to restrain me, kept me from being able to rub my irritated eyes.

Another voice growled something unintelligible.

"Chiznara, get your translator, so the ape can hear you," said the voice which permeated into my brain. "Or wait till I put one on this creature."

The other creature growled again, apparently out of frustration, than hurried off with a flurry of padded footsteps.

Attempting to focus my eyes, again, I began to make out a brownish orange furred feline face, with an ample head mane, large pointed ears, and piecing green eyes. A headband was around the creature's head, which secured a device to its forehead. Rolling my head to the side, I saw that I was in a large, narrow, dimly-lit room, with numerous crates stacked along the walls. Several meters away, the floor was spattered with what appeared to be old, dark crusted blood. Above the bloody mess, there was a set of manacles bolted to the wall. My horror began to mount, as I realized that, not only was I aboard the Motrician vessel, but that I was in the very room that the captain of the_Stellar Wind_ had his face eaten off by a deranged mongoose. "Why, why did you re--" I abruptly bit my tongue, since the term "rescue was not fitting in this situation."

"I.... 'rescued' you, because," she glared at me, menacingly. "Because your corpse is worth a lot more money in my hold, than it would be worth burning up in the core of that planet. I'm also, keeping you alive, for now, as insurance, in the event your people successfully repair their vessel, before we do."

"Ah, you're her," I tried to remember her name. "Ah, captain..."

"CaptainIzsharrr, of the Zynarrkus Mrr'Uk." she hissed. "Welcome aboard the Kyrrrandarr's Claw, Apeling."

I abruptly struggled to my feet, tossing caution out the airlock. She draw both daggers from the scabbards on her hips, and brandished them. The knee-length shorts she wore, had olive trim, and was held up by a leather belt. Multiple earnings adorned her ears, with a number of chains of gold and silver, around her neck. The round medallion with the three-snake symbol was affixed to the fur in the middle of her chest. Eyeing her, I pondered rushing her, knowing that she would probably kill me quickly. In the back of my mind, I knew that my presence here could cause my friends on the Sabre of Justice to hesitate at a crucial moment. This was something I was not going to allow to happen.

A door hissed behind me. Looking back, I saw a slim, tall creature with silver-white, almost iridescent fur, with a thick head-mane, and a bushy tail. Around her head with the telltale band of a mindlink translator. "Can I eat its face. Let me eat this chuthnu's face, like I did to the other one."

The felinoid alien held her palm towards the silver-furred mongoose from hell, and said, "No! I need the creature alive. Maybe once we leave this system, you can have your fun."

The creature stopped less than a meter from me, eyeing me with sinister intent. "Or," the mongoose alien seemed to purr and growl at the same time, "My mate is very miserable on this ship. How about we give this creature to him so he can rape it."

"Chiznara, I will consider that," answered the Motrician. "As long as he promises not to get too carried away. I don't want this body's bounty to be rejected due to fecal contamination of the meat."

"You're no fun," the mongoose-like Cortrian growled, then hurried away, towards the door of the cargo hold.

The Motrician pushed one of the daggers into her left scabbard, but kept the other one in her hand, as she stared at me. "My crew is going to enjoy you. It's just a matter of making sure they don't kill you too soon."

The burning in my nostrils had subsided, though the stench of ammonia and sulfur compounds still overwhelmed my senses. As I stood in the cargo hold in front of the Motrician captain, there was the realization that I would have been better off had I died in the gas giant's atmosphere. Not only would I face unimaginable torture, and likely a protracted death, but also, my presence here was a serious danger to my friends on the Sabre. I could rush her now, forcing her to kill me on the spot. Being stabbed and gutted alive would not be particularly pleasant, however. It wouldn't be like the plunge into the toxic clouds, where all the unpleasantness of dying mostly involved choking on fumes until unconsciousness. Now I was in a quandary. Do I make her kill me? Though if I did die, could she still claim I was alive? Ship scanners can detect the presence of life forms, but often can't determine species. Sometimes humans can be differentiated, due to their relatively low body temperatures, and slight differences in metabolism, since they're the only known primate based species. I wouldn't put it past her, to claim that I was still alive, especially if she had some Niquentorian tech that jammed scanners. I had to live long enough to possibly reach some kind of communications system so I could tell my crew to not worry about my safety, in the event there could be a firefight.

"Come with me," demanded the Motrician. "Stay where I can see you."

I complied as she lead me towards the door of the cargo hold. Looking back to where I had awoken, I could see a faintly glowing lens-like disk on the floor, with a pedestal nearby, about chest high, topped with a control console. There was much blood, which appeared fresh, around the disk. In the corner, near the disk, was a pile of my clothing. In the shadows, behind a crate, was a decapitated Motrician body, with its right hand badly slashed. I fixed my gaze on the body for a moment, remembering the confrontation in the Blade of Truth's airlock, which likely happened less than an hour ago. I turned back to the feline alien to continue the conversation without mentioning the body. "Why are you so worried about an engagement with my vessel that necessitates my being alive?"

She growled, then shoved me hard, ahead of her, causing me to stumble, though I kept my footing. The door slid open, revealing a vast room, beyond. A large cylindrical structure, overhead, crisscrossed with catwalks, was likely the main fuel tank. Normally much of the space on this deck would be occupied by a hyperdrive similar to that on the_Sabre of Justice_, but the room was mostly empty, with more stacks of crates, along with banks of equipment. Some of the machinery billowed black smoke, along with the occasional brief flicker or orange flame. Near the very center of the room, was a two meter long, one half meter wide, transparent glass tube, filled with a pinkish-orange pulsing plasma, with visible components, such as a set of ring-shaped coils, visible on the interior wall of the tube. This was the ship's tiny alien hyperdrive, which was small enough to possibly be carried by a single human of moderate strength. Conduits snaked from some connectors and panels on and around the hyperdrive, to the ceiling fuel tank. A metal shaft about twenty centimeters wide, ran from the forward end of the hyperdrive, through the fifty or so meters of engine room, past a pair of tall column-shaped elevator shafts, to the forward hull. Near the hyperdrive, was a large yellow-orange box-shaped machine, on casters, with a hose and nozzle emerging from the front end, with the Caterpillar logo clearly visible. The far wall appeared heavily damaged, with several areas that were covered in some kind of latex-like exudate, to seal, what was likely, a major hull breach. Two silver-furred Cortrians were busy with fire extinguishers spraying a large cylindrical vault-like chamber near the damaged wall. A similar vault was nearby, with a hatchway, which hung open. Several devices the size and shape of old-style hot water heaters, were visible inside the vault, with two of the units laying on the floor next to the chamber. "I guess I did wreck your ship." I mused aloud.

A Motrician wearing a black tool belt, and vest, along with a translator headband, rushed up to the Captain. "Captain Izsharrr, I, ah, I think the port shields are gone. The chamber is still far too hot for us to crack the seal to examine the generators. The starboard ones appear to be intact, but the computer doesn't see them."

"Have you tried re-initializing the driver?" asked the Captain. "You're the engineer here."

"Twice." said the feline engineer. "I think the interface burned out, but I can't run any diagnostics because the diagnostic systems were also fried."

"Replace the damn things," snarled the Motrician captain.

"That's the problem, Captain Izsharrr. What this stupid ape thing," she jabbed a claw in my direction, "did, we, weren't supposed to survive. Every delicate electronic system in the port aft quadrant of our ship, where that inversion detonated, is gone, as well as most of the port cargo hold, and the port sublight engine."

The Motrician captain thrust the other dagger in her scabbard, than clawed at the engineer while screaming, "Fix my fucking ship, I don't care how." before shoving her crew member back towards the bank of ruined smoldering equipment. She turned back to me. "I guess you now have an idea of the extent of the damage you've inflicted."

I was going to express being happy about the news, but thought better of it. Being killed was one thing, but I was more worried about low long she would make me last, while dying. I bit my tongue as she pushed me towards one of the columnar elevator shafts, which extended from the floor, through the ceiling next to the fuel tank. As we circled around the starboard shaft, there was an open gate, and a platform inside. I stepped onto the platform with the Motrician. There was a thin post near the curved inner wall of the shaft, with five buttons on it. She pressed the second one from the top. A chain-link gate rolled across the door of the shaft, and the lift lurched, then began to rise, with a whir. After a moment, it rose past two decks, then stopped, and the gate slid aside.

A corridor stretched ahead of us with an intersection about ten meters away, as well as the occasional door, grate, and side passage. It was brightly lit, with grayish white walls, with none of the exposed conduits along the walls and ceiling, that was common on Zephenidian vessels of similar design. She lead me along the corridor, then turned right at the intersection. After passing several closed doors, she stopped, placed her palm on a sensor on the doorway to my left, and the door parted. She pushed me inside.

This was obviously some kind of sleeping quarters, and a fairly large one at that. In front of me was a desk with a thin screen mounted to it, with a swivel base. To the right, was a couch which divided the room, and beyond that, was a large bed which would probably be comparable to a king-sized bed, back on earth. I tried to reassure myself that Motricians typically are not interested in interspecies intimacy, but the operative word was "typically." Humans weren't typically interested, either. But when you have five to ten percent of humans claiming interest, depending on which poll one consulted, and those were limited to those who admitted such interest, the end result would still be a multitude of humans willing to share alien salivas, and other fluids. As I stared at the floor, almost frozen in thought, I felt something leather being placed around my neck, and a buckle being fastened. There a slight pressure on the back of my neck, followed by a click, and a slight tug. I reached up and felt the collar, and realized that she had fastened a leash to it. I fought for words, before finally sputtering, "What the, ah, what the fuck are you..."

She didn't answer, as she walked to the desk with the computer terminal, opened a drawer, and removed a mindlink translator control unit, which not only had a belt clip, but also a pair of straps for securing it to a leg or arm. The headband was attached to the translator control unit via a thin cable. Handing it to me, she said, "Put this on. This way, you get to hear who's interested in eating you alive." She seemed to purr as she spoke.

I complied, almost resigned to the fact that I faced both physical and psychological torture, with the psychological part being so much easier while wearing a translator. Of course, there was a practical side to this, where it might be easier for me to assess any threats to my life and safety while using a translator. After placing the headband around my head, and adjusting the cable so it wouldn't snag on anything, I took the control box and fastened it to my left leg with a pair of straps. Once it was secure, the Motrician reached for the control box, which made me almost wince, as she pressed a button to switch it on. The idea of having those claws so close to my exposed genitals, was extremely unnerving.

"Now to the bridge, apleling!" I followed her, towards the door, while keeping slack on the leash. "Make no attempt to remove the collar, or it will explode."

Before I was able to stop myself, I uttered, "Good, a way out."

We turned left, and headed towards a large open archway. As we neared the archway at the end of the corridor, I could make out the view screen and a console. The Motrician explained, "The explosive in the collar is not powerful enough to guarantee death, Chuthnu. Just enough to cripple you, and make you wish it had killed you."

The bridge was large for this type of vessel, comparable to the size of the bridge on the Sabre of Justice. The edge of the room was a single long curved console with evenly spaced chairs, with another small horseshoe-shaped console with a chair inside almost in the center of the room. The curved view screen showed inky black starcape, with the grayish-yellow limb of the gas giant filling the lower part of the view. Three other crew members, one Motrician, and two Cortrians, sat in the seats of the main console. One of the Cortrians had silvery-white fur, and was apparently the one known as Chiznara. The other Cortrian had a yellowish brown coat, with some darker mottling. The Motrician looked a lot like the Captain, though her fur was darker and slightly redder. Chiznara rose from her seat, to face me. "You brought the meat. I want to taste it."

The Captain took her seat a the central control console. "Chiznara, sit down. The apeling has to serve its purpose, first. Got it!"

"What's my purpose," I demanded to know. "You said I'm a hostage. Is there something more?"

"Bait," she spat. "Both our ships were severely damaged. It's just a matter of time for our respective crews to effect repairs. I do know that I've done extensive damage to your vessel, and its shuttle was lost. However, our damage is extensive as well." She turned away and said, "What's our status."

The other Motrician turned and said, "Engineering just informed me that the backup realspace linkage sensors are being installed at this moment. This is fortunate, considering that there are at least three Chakharan military cruisers heading to this system as we speak, though they're still many days away. The Chuthnu hunters are closer, but are still giving this system a wide berth."

"What about weapons and shields." asked the Captain.

"As feared," said the Motrician at the console. "All the shield generators in the port chamber are fused into one solid mass. They've still not successfully initialized the starboard generators. Engineering is trying to replace the interface systems, hoping that they'll come online. The port plasma cannons are inoperative. Everything else is operational, though only four plasma torpedoes were able to be salvaged."

"Transfer dampers?" asked the feline captain.

"The spare generators were installed, so we have full coverage." informed the Motrician. "Remember, without shields, they can use a modulated restraining beam to disable our transfer dampers at the point of contact with the beam. but that would leave them extremely vulnerable, however. If we engage them, we should keep the Chuthnu in an interior location to prevent them from transferring him off the ship. However, they could still board and mount a rescue. Keep in mind, we are very shorthanded due to our crew losses, which could make cause major problems if we're boarded."

That's when I struck me. For a Motrician vessel, there weren't a whole lot of Motricians aboard. So far, I've only seen two other Motricians, besides the captain, and four Cortrians, not including Chiznara's mate. It did seem as if the V'Nari syndicate types have been taking over this ship.

"CaptainIzsharrr to the Chuthnu vessel! Captain Izsharrr to the Chuthnu vessel!" The Motrician Captain was attempting to hail the Sabre of Justice. "We have your ape. Request visual!"

Karen's image formed on the screen. She was standing at a console in what was left of the bridge. Behind her, and to the right, there was a chair embedded in the wall, with hull sealant resin forming a seal around it. She peered at the screen. "Art! Art is that you?" Her voice was partially obscured by gibberish, which sounded vaguely electronic, a bit like a kind of robotic snaring and yowling, like a synthetic cat fight.

"I'm okay for now." I responded.

"If you want your little apeling, you will come and get him!" snarled the Motrician captain.

I screamed, "They have no shields! Don't let my presence stop you--"

The Motrician lunged from her seat and slashed at me with her claws. I threw myself back, escaping the brunt of her attack, before she lunged, pinning me to the bulkhead. She brought her face close to mine, and growled. "I ought to kill you, now!" Her breath was hot and had a somewhat unpleasant musk, to it.

"Go ahead!" I challenged her. "Go fucking ahead. My friends are more important to me, then my life." I stared into her slit-shaped pupils. "Kill me, god dammit!"

"Art, what's going on!" Karen yelled through the com.

I was more concerned with any news of the crew, than I was about the immediate threat to my life. Turning to the screen, I yelled, "How's Daryl and Jurrukush holding up!" Did Nakhara survive! Did--"

The Motrician captain lunged back at her seat and pressed a button, causing Karen's face to dissolve back to the view of the planet. She looked up from her console at the two Cortrians and the other Motrician. "I have an issue to deal with. Maintain our current position relative to the Chuthnu vessel."

"Affirmative," answered Chiznara, who began to work at her console.

CaptainIzsharrr rose from her seat, and took hold of my leash. "Come with me, apeling. There's matters to discuss."

As she pulled me towards the archway, I saw the three bridge crew all turn to watch me. The temptation to make a snarky comment was too great. I waved at the Cortrians. "Don't worry, I think our talk will end with you two being able to play jump rope with my intestines."

The Motrician growled, as she jerked the leash, hard. I walked through the archway, into the corridor. I brushed some blood from a deep scratch on my arm, but for the most part, disregarded the minor injury, for now. After we walked a few meters down the corridor, she turned to the door on our right, put her palm against the door sensor, and it slid open. She led me inside her quarters, and towards the couch. "Sit."

I cautiously walked around the couch, and sat down. It was a comfortable, though a bit overstuffed. The bed, which was in front of me, also did not appear at all alien, with a plain brown comforter, and a pair of pillows at its head. There was little to differentiate this room from any other small suite type room that would be found at any hotel, back on Earth. The Motrician sat next to me, curling her tail against her side, then turned to face me.

"You know about my culture, do you, apeling?" she asked in a low growl.

I was a bit tired of her calling me "apeling." "If you're going to try making moves on me, at least call me by my name, Art, or, even Chuthnu is better."

"Chuthnu," she growled. "Chuthnu, it is."

One issue the Wolf Hunters have always had to deal with, were Motrician pirates and scavengers. Fortunately, both tend to stay in the outlying areas, though that's also where most of the Zephenidian attacks occur. Securing scenes so that forensics and legitimate salvage operators could properly investigate and liquidate the wreckage was mandatory. "We sometimes have problems with Motrician incursions."

She continued to look at me, possibly sizing me up for something. "You know that Mrr'Uks which are planet-bound are seen as, ah, lesser, to be looked down on, by members of Mrr'Uks who have spaceflight capability. Only about five Mrr'Uks have starships. The rest, probably over a hundred, are planet-bound. Two years ago, my mother found an opportunity. A group of V'Nari traders met her in a bar on Motakha. They had a ship, and they needed a crew. They felt that providing a ship to a planet-bound Mrr'Uk would be a profitable venture for everyone. Of course the ship was upgraded with Niquentorian technology, which made the deal hard to resist."

"What was the catch?" I asked.

"Half the crew had to be members of the V'Nari syndicate, for one thing. Second, we had to follow any orders given by the V'Nari. Third, the V'Nari members could refuse any order, if they felt it was too dangerous. Ultimately, they had us take orders from the Zephenidian Establishment of Prukak. My mother made me Captain. She felt I had the best leadership skills for this."

"So they dumped the job on you?" I aked. "Probably without giving you the proper technical knowledge and expertise." I looked her in the eyes. "You're incompetent."

She growled and snapped her jaws at me.

"Go ahead and bite me, cat." I growled to the best of my ability. "It won't bring back the crew you've lost. I mean, mounting a rescue and tele-cutting your own crew member to death. Then sending a large detachment to the base to get--"

She lunged forward, pinning me against the armrest of the couch, before bringing her jaws to my face. She snarled.

"Security system...security system!" I stammered. "Disrupted the teleport, killing what? seven people?"

She opened her jaws, and brought them around my mouth, her canine teeth began to press against my cheeks. Her musky breath wafted around my nose. Through he translator, she thought at me, "Keep going. I will rip your face off."

"You really need to brush!" I mumbled into her mouth.

She released her grip, and returned to where she was sitting. After a few moments of awkward silence, I sat up, and wiped the smelly saliva off my mouth. She looked back at me. "It was my mother who decided to try to kill your Zephenidian passenger, herself. I told her not to, and when she insisted, I told her to bring a respirator. She felt that there wasn't enough time, and the opportunity was right. I transported her to your ship's airlock, myself. When you threw her out, I, I. I decapitated my own mother, because I was in a rush to get her aboard before she suffocated."

"Not blaming me?" I asked, after all, I was the one who dumped her out the airlock, even going as far as pounding on her hands as she held onto the jagged glass of the airlock's window.

"She would have lived if she had donned a respirator. She would have lived had I taken a bit more time to target her with the transfer system. When I saw you get thrown free of your ship's wreckage, I used you, in part, as an experiment to see if I could have saved her."

"So you weren't on the bridge?" I asked.

"I was in the starboard cargo hold, because my mother wanted to go on that stupid reckless mission. Had your little hyperdrive bomb gone off on the other side of my ship, I would have died."

"That, ah, would have probably spared me from, ah, being here."

She seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Since the V'Nari crew could refuse any order that they didn't like, they refused to be a part of the team that transferred to the base, which meant all seven crew who died, were my fellow sisters. Two Cortrians did join the crew that stormed and breached the facility, but that's when my crew was becoming a bit sparse." I noticed that she appeared to be leaning towards me a bit, and had shifted slightly closer to me, on the couch.

"So, ah, what's going to happen, next?" I asked the Motrician captain.

"We engage your vessel to recapture what little honor we have left, before we limp home with most of our cargo, and a small measure of our pride. I'm now the matriarch of my Mrr'Uk, but there is little consolation in the fact that there's almost no one left alive. Some Mrr'uks have thousands, or millions of members. Mine was an offshoot and only had a dozen members or so. Now, there are maybe five. If your ship successfully defeats us, the Zynarrkus Mrr'Uk will be no more."

This was definitely a sob story for sure, but this story would likely die with me on this ship. "So you are going to attempt to engage my friends?"

"Yes, Chuthnu." She was continuing to creep a little closer, almost like she was trying to subtly flirt, though I decided not to acknowledge it.

"Any way for me to get you to dump me in an escape pod, and have you just jump out of the system, and go home?"

"No, Chuthnu." She looked down at her lap, and seemed lost in thought, before leaning towards me again. I felt the fur of her tail tip brushing against my back. "I think we were destined to fight from the moment we first encountered each other. Possibly from the moment I tried to rescue one of my sisters from that rogue planet, and botched the transfer. As for you, I don't know what I will ultimately do with you."

"Is your V'Nari crew is all Cortrian?" I asked.

"I got one S'gra**** who works in engineering."

The species name was unfamiliar and didn't fully translate. I've only personally seen Cortrians, as well as the occasional raccoon-like species, who's name escaped me, but were colloquially known as Bandits. Then there was that Demon I had encountered a year or so ago. "Another V'Nari type?"

"Yes. He's large and helps with heavy lifting, and ship defense, but he's incorrigible. He's the only male who I allow to work in my crew, though only due to the instance of the V'Nari. He would probably eat you on sight, if I wasn't with you."

"A Demon?" I asked. "You got a fucking Demon working here?"

"That's a," she appeared to think this over for a moment. "A very apt description."

"What about your Cortrian friend's mate?" I asked.

"I don't let him work," answered the Motrician captain. "He stays in his quarters. I had no choice in regards to the S'gra****." She was continuing to lean towards me, and had moved even closer on the couch, as her tail was brushed along my buttocks.

I finally decided to acknowledge her attempts to flirt. "I'm ah, I'm not interested." I moved towards the armrest. "I'm not interested in someone who intends to harm my friends, and who intends to kill me."

She growled, then reached her hand out and grabbed my left arm rightly. She roughly pulled me against her warm fur. "If you don't accept my advances, then I will give you to Chiznara's mate. I will try to convince him not to kill you, until you're no longer needed."

Thinking about the dilemma she was putting me in, I didn't know which would be worse. I knew that Motricians often have mock fights during foreplay, which for non-Motricians, often result in serious, if not life threatening, injuries. I knew little of Cortrian sexuality, other than rape, and predation, was often typical elements when it came to captives. "That would probably be for the best. From what Chiznara said, he's miserable and would probably be easy to convince to slaughter me."

She glared at me while still gripping my arm. "You're not joking. You'd really want to put your trust in a creature that I don't trust completely myself?"

"I know that your people fight before sex. I'm just thinking of who would be likely to kill me, quicker."

"Fine, apeling." she snarled as she released my arm. She got to her feet, and grabbed the leash. "We're going to the bridge for now. I'll give you to Chiznara's mate when we're ready to engage your vessel. His quarters are in an interior location, and I'm sure he'll be able to defend you from any boarders intent on rescuing you."

She tugged the leash, urging me to my feet. As she led me out the door of her sleeping quarters, I felt somewhat relieved that the sexual and physical torture was delayed, at least for a little while. Once through the archway, she took her seat a the captain's console. The two Cortrians and the other Motrician were still at their stations. A second Motrician, the one I saw in Engineering, was talking to the Motrician.

"What about manually applying power to the starboard shield generators." asked the Motrician who sat at her bridge console.

"There are multiple power inputs and the signals has to be applied precisely," said the Engineer. The offset of the shield segment has to be precisely controlled and calculated. If the shield segment ends up being projected within the confines of the vessel, it will snap any bulkheads and decks that it intersected, and it would destroy any and all equipment in its way. I won't attempt to power any of the generators unless I know exactly where the segment will be projected."

The captain spoke up, "M'Charra, don't bother with the shields. I'm considering them a total loss. I'd suggest making sure our weapons are up for the task."

The engineer turned to the captain and snarled. "You're going to take this busted crate into battle?"

"The apeling," she motioned towards me, "Will be our shield. I'm going to give him to the Cortrian male, and explain to them how he's likely to be raped till his organs burst. That should make them lower their guard and attempt a rescue."

I felt a certain amount of trepidation as I hoped that my friends would do the right thing, and jump into hyperspace. Sure, I'd be abandoned, but the result would be that my friends would be safe. However, there was so little I knew. With Captain Benson in the infirmary, who would be in command. Carl would probably be the captain in this situation, though he might be better suited for navigation. Scot Nelson would probably be the one to handle the weapons, since other than that, he's a complete idiot. Everyone else was either too critical in their normal roles, or too low down on the totem pole to be considered. Daryl as captain? I tried to stifle a laugh. Other than the fact he was far too new as a crew member, he was definitely too timid for the role.

"Neutrino emissions detected on the far side of the planet," said Chiznara, excitedly. "They're de-orbiting, dropping lower, and increasing their velocity."

The Motrician captain seemed to ponder the news for a moment. "They're attempting to intercept us using a low energy maneuver."

It was obvious that they were performing a delta v maneuver, one of the oldest, and most energy efficient tactics known. Generally, this was also extremely slow, though not particularly slow when it came to distances within the orbital area of a planet. I suspected what they were up to, though I decided to keep my mouth, and as much as I could, my conscious speaking mind, shut. This maneuver would likely be followed by either a hard burn of the fusion nacelles, or a quick burst in borderspace, to fully close the distance, once line of sight was achieved.

"They're continuing to drop, and accelerate," said Chiznara. "They're just above the planet's atmosphere, and they're closing. They'll be in line of sight in fifteen ****." Can I handle the guns? I want to have the honer of killing the apelings?"

"You have the gunnery console," said Captain Izsharrr. "And while you're destroying the apeling ship, your mate will be destroying this little runt." She tugged at my leash. "I probably should present this, ah, gift to him, now."

She got to her feet, and tugged the leash. "This is going to be fun."

With increasing dread, I followed the feline alien through the archway, and into the corridor. A dozen meters or so, down the corridor, we reached the intersection, and turned left. Ahead, was the gate to the lift. Once at the gate, she pressed the small black call button. After a moment, the platform rose into view, and the gate slid aside. I slowly entered, feeling an ever increasing sense of dread.

The Motrician approached the tiny console, and pressed the second button from the bottom. The gate slid closed, the the platform whirred, as it descended past one deck, then stopped at the next. The gate opened. This deck was similar to the previous one, except that the elevator was at a three-way intersection, with passages extended both left, right, and ahead. The Motrician lead me forward, to an intersection, then we turned left. The corridor was long, and, and like the other ones, had numerous doorways. After walking a short distance, she stopped, and touched the pad near the door on the left. A buzz sounded. We waited a moment, then there was a beep, followed by a growl, that my translator interpreted as, "Enter!"

The Motrician touched the panel again, and the door slid aside. This room was a vast contrast to the Motrician Captain's own quarters. The room was narrow, barely wider than the doorway, dark, and dreary, with the walls rusted and stained. The bed was merely a dirty mattress at the end of the room, covered in tattered blankets. The room smelled musty. Standing in front of the bed, was tall lanky creature with gray-brown fur, a head mane of tangled and matted fur, and a thin tail. Some fur appeared to be missing in patches over his body, like he might have had mange, or had been nervously pulling his own fur. He eyed both the Motrician captain, and me. "You brought the Chuthnu? Is it mine?"

"Khaznar," said the Motrician captain. "I'm giving you this creature on the condition that you keep it alive, and mostly unharmed, till I tell you that you can kill it?"

"Awww, you're no fun, like always," he sighed, and fell heavily on his bed.

"You'll have your fun. You can still rape him, as long as you don't damage him too much." The Motrician stepped towards him, and tugged my leash.

I was in a daze, nearly stunned by pure dread. I was naked, standing in front of the creature who would likely kill me in a horrible sexual way, and there was no sign of any possibility of escape. All I could think was if there was a way to convince him to kill me quickly, and get it over with.

"Awww, okay, under one condition." The Cortrian looked at her again, then glanced at me. "Turn off any surveillance. I want my privacy, while I do my thing. When you tell me that I can kill the Chuthnu, then you can watch. Okay?"

The Motrician seemed to think this over for a moment. "Okay, I will give you your privacy. Just don't decorate your quarters with his intestines. Got it?"

"I will treat him well," the Cortrian said, as he got to his feet.

The Motrician unclipped my leash. "This might be the last time I see you, apeling. You should have chosen me." She turned away, and stepped through the doorway. She turned back. "Enjoy!" The door slid closed, behind me, plunging the room into darkness.

As I stood in front of the creature, as my eyes fought to adjust to the darkness, I felt the dread close around me. Naked, with a creature who would likely do the most horrible agonizing things to me, I waited for him to make the first move. I planned to fight him, to defend myself, but I knew it would be futile. With one large breath, I stopped forward to meet my fate.