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The Wolf Hunters

Episode

11

Slow Return

By

Lutrian

ver. 3.1

The galley was a mess with chairs scattered about the room. One table near the back, was twisted at a 45 degree angle, with two of its legs sheared off. Part of the ceiling had partially collapsed near the left rear of the room. The aft screen was cracked, and dark. A voice to my right yelled, "Help!"

Scot was on the floor, pinned by the felinoid alien, who was straddling him. Scot screamed again, as he bled from a number of deep slash wounds on his arms and face. The Motrician turned toward me, and growled. "There you are, stupid ape. You killed my entire family. You destroyed everything of mine."

I quickly scanned the room, and noticed Scot's weapon under the table.Do I grab it? I thought. Without giving it much thought, I armed, and fired at the weapon, sending two super-heated bolts of columnated plasma into the stock and barrel of Scot's gun. It melted, and sparked, before beginning to smoke. "Release him!" I yelled. Release him at once, or I'll fry you!" The smell of scorched metal and plastic filled the air.

She shifted position, now holding Scot down with an elbow to free her hand. From her shorts, she drew out a small black sphere about the size of a large marble. On the side of the sphere was a small, raised, silver button. She half growled, half smiled. "I little present I stole from the Niquentorians. A fun little piece of technology. Let's see if you can kill me before I press this button."

Scot yelled, "Fuck fuck fuck, shit!"

"Drop your weapon, or I'll use this." hissed the Motrician captain as she fingered the button on the device.

"W-w-wha?" I thought this was some kind of joke.

"Niquentorian Annihilation sphere!" Scot yelled. "It contains about a gram of antimatter in a self-sustaining force field. If she pushes that button, it forces a pin through the force field to set off the antimatter."

The utter shock filled me with a renewed sense of dread. "Antima-" I stuttered. "You, you, you're fucking kidding!"

Captain Izsharrr thumbed the button again. "Enough antimatter to vaporize your vessel. Still a fate far better than what you inflicted upon my sister."

Scot struggled under the humanoid cat. "I, ah, I remember reading about these from my training. Oh my god!"

"So I got your attention, little apelings," she growled.

"Put that bomb down!" I ordered as I brandished the gun in her direction. "Slowly place the thing on the flo-"

"Now I can finally do what I came here to do." The Motrician turned her attention to Scot, who she still held, pinned, against the deck, then licked her lips.

"What the fuck!" Scot began to struggle again. "She's gonna fucking eat me!"

Her intentions weren't hard to read. Sure, Scot was the biggest asshole on this ship, who's actions have, more than once, endangered the crew. It was his actions, his running off on his own, that lead to Daryl being captured by a Zephenidian. It ultimately turned out okay, but that was a fluke to be sure. Now it was Scot who was helpless, held to the floor by a large predatory alien who wanted to use him as a means of revenge. Still, I wasn't about to let her torture him. "No, bitch!"

She snarled, then pushed Scot, hard, against the floor. "I'm going to feast on this ape-rat." She reached down and nipped at his nose, and chuffed.

Scot screamed, and sputtered. "Geez! Her breath is horrid!"

I tried to stifle a laugh, considering the seriousness of this situation. "You have a cat threatening to eat you, who's holding enough antimatter to blow up a city, and all you can complain about, is her breath?"

"That's not funny, Art!" Scot complained as he struggled with the Motrician.

"And you," I brandished my weapon at the Motrician, again. "You're the one who killed your family, your crew."

She turned to glare at me. "You killed my sister, apleling. You tortured her to death, burning off her hands and feet."

"I needed the code to scuttle your engineering deck!" I yelled. "It was sur--"

"Art, holy fuck!" Scot yelled. "You did what?"

I had put this out of my mind, but now I saw it again. The Motrician engineer was screaming, with one arm and one foot destroyed, "Please end this! The code, the code..." The smell of burning, the horror. It was survival, but it did feel like I lost a piece of myself. Torture, anger, revenge. It was as if I had slipped to some dark side, like a piece of my soul had turned rotten.

"No! No! I didn't want to do it!" I caught myself saying, then I bit my lip.

She turned back to Scot, and lowered her jaws towards his face, and snapped them loudly, causing Scot to flinch. "You get to watch me slowly torture this apeling. I will tear the skin off of his face. I will eat his eyes from their sockets. I will crush the bones of his face in my jaws while he begs for death!"

I had to torture the engineer. I had to make her speak. If I hadn't, I wouldn't be alive. My ship would have torn into the Motrician vessel with all weapons ablaze, killing me in an immense explosion of heat, and crushing debris. Captain Izsharrr's own actions, her desire to confront the Sabre of Justice, her singular focus on obtaining the corpse of Jurrukush was what lead to my having to torture her engineer. "You gave me no choice," I said through clenched teeth. "You killed her! You put me in a position where I had no choice!"

She screamed. "I will set this off! I'll eat this creature's face. I will kill each and every--"

"You killed your fucking family out of stupidity, out of arrogance!" I yelled. You're an incompetent piece of shit!"

She continued to scream and snarl, as he held the device tightly in her hand.

Scot was screaming, "You're pissing her off. What the fuck are you thinking!"

"Captain Izsharrr, you don't have to do this!" I pleaded.

"Chiznara's mate betrayed me." she wailed. "I thought he would rape and kill you, despite my instructions. I thought he would decorate his room with your entrails."

"You fucking mistreated him!" I yelled, again. "You treated him like shit, separated him from his mate, and stuck him in a filthy storage compartment. What do you expect?"

She growled even louder, than cried out in a blood curdling scream, before leaping off Scot. She turned to me, eyes wide, teeth bared, then looked down at Scot, before locking her stare back to me. The moments seem to drag as I met her stare, while holding my weapon at the ready. If I fired, it had to count, and be instantly lethal, lest she press the button on the annihilation sphere to set it off. The weapon I brandished was lethal, but usually required multiple shots to kill a large and determined foe. After a long moment, she slowly turned away, and looked down at Scot. Scot had backed away against the wall, cowering. She glared at him, and whispered, "You can go."

Scot was as bewildered as I was. "Ah, wha?"

The Motrician hissed, then growled, "Go! Get out of my sight!"

Scot scrambled to his feet, and hurried to the door. As he passed, I noticed a pungent fecal smell, along with a dark damp stain on the seat of his pants.

Captain Izsharrr stood, looking down at her feet. She tossed the small marble-like device onto the floor, where it clattered under the tables. "It's a toy. I bought it from a Hartosian merchant on the planet Kuliban IV. I wanted the real thing, but they're very rare and prohibitively expensive." She slowly looked back at me, and extended her arms out from her sides. "Shoot me. Get it over with. I'm the last of the Zynarrkus Mrr'Uk. I'm the only one left. I'm clanless, I am no one."

I kept my weapon trained on her, but I was almost in shock at the turn of events. "I, ah, I can't. I mean.."

"You tortured my sister, my engineer, horribly. You burned her alive. You shouldn't have any trouble killing me."

"It was a matter of life and death," I reminded her. "It was a situation you put me in."

"Then I will attack you, so you will have no choice." She brought her arms down, but extended her claws.

I took a step back towards the wall, next to the door. "You're pathetic. You've let the V'Nari syndicate take over your Mrr'Uk. You let other people turn you and your family into fucking monsters. More than monsters, into, ah, thralls."

She screamed as she took a step towards me. "Do it, apeling Kill me!"

"Your mom obtains a spaceship from the V'Nari, with so many strings attached. Turned you all into puppets. Your whole fucking Mrr'Uk turned into marionettes for the V'Nari"

"No!" she screamed, as she lunged, pushing me against the wall, before bringing her jaws around my throat. "Kill me, or be killed!" she thought at me through her translator.

The points of her teeth pressed around my trachea, her hot. moist, foul breath wafted around my neck. For a moment, I pressed the gun against her chest, and was on the verge of firing. However, I felt I had to make a point, a point which could get me killed. She had been manipulated by the V'Nari. No, this did not excuse her actions. She still had a significant responsibility to all the people she killed, from the pirates on the frozen rogue planet, to the crew of the_Stellar Wind_, to all those who died on the defense platform of the colony that she had nuked with a borderspatial missile. If I brought her to federation custody, I had no idea how long of a sentence she would face. Despite her actions, and despite the fact the had her jaws around my throat, I didn't want to kill her. Maybe it was the hope that I wanted to share something that she might have never experienced before. True compassion. Slowly, I turned my weapon to the side. "No, I won't."

She released my neck from her jaws, though she continued to held me against the wall. "You have to do it, Apeling. You have to kill me."

"No!" I shouted. "No!"

She brought her jaws to my neck again. "I'll rip your head off." She nipped at my throat. "I'll tear you open. I will pull your entrails out. I will.... I will..." She collapsed on her knees. There was a long moment of silence, as she held her head in her hands. "If...if I was to..." There was a long pause as she appeared to collect her thoughts.

I looked down at her as she sobbed at my feet. "My Federation doesn't have a death penalty. You'll be tried, and imprisoned. I don't know how long."

Suddenly, without warning, she bit my hand, sharply, causing me to drop the gun onto the floor. She grabbed the weapon, and leaped away. The rushed to the back of the room, in front of the damaged view screen.

For a moment, all I could think about, was my hand, which I held, and inspected. Surprisingly, other than a few tooth marks, and some scratches, my hand was actually undamaged. Turning my attention to the Motrician, I saw her slowly place the barrel of the gun to her left eye. "No! Stop!" I pleaded.

"Why," she growled. "To be tried, and paraded around. To be made to rot in some prison or dungeon? No!"

"We don't do that kind of--" A bright flash lit the room, and she crumpled to the floor. Her face was in a horrible grimace of pain. Her left eye was a smoking hole. The Motrician's body began to seize and jerk. Realizing what had happened, I turned and pressed a button on the wall panel next to the door. "Medical emergency in the galley. Medical Emergency!" I heard my voice echo through the corridors.

Rushing over to her body, I saw that there didn't seem to be much I could do. I felt her wrist, and her chest. There was a weak pulse, but she wasn't breathing. Why was I even doing this, I thought to myself, as I opened her mouth to attempt artificial respiration. Noticing the horrible gingivitis, and massive tarter build-up, I quickly closed her mouth and held it shut with my hand. Mouth to muzzle normally doesn't work that good, anyways, I remembered. I pushed her jaw tightly closed, and took a breath, and placed my mouth over her damp nose, and blew. She probably destroyed her brain. Is it really worth trying to save her? I took another breath.

* * * *

As Doctor Eugene Costello and another crew member took over, and rolled her onto a nul-grav gurney, I stepped out of the galley, with the toy bomb in my pocket. I was still nude, still having not had a chance to properly put on a uniform. With the multitude of minor injuries from the the Motrician captain, and a tryst with a rather unique Cortrian, I decided it was time to visit the infirmary, myself.

* * * *

On Deck 1, near where Trans Con was sealed from the rest of the ship, I sat on the edge of a medical bed, awaiting my turn. Captain Benson lay on the bed next to mine, as he turned to face me. "You've really outdone yourself, kid."

"Kid?" I protested. "I'm over twice your age. And I almost got myself killed, dozens of times."

Across the room, Doctor Eugene Costello continued to examine the Motrician body. There was a mask over the feline alien's face, with several tubes snaking their way to a bank of equipment. On the monitor over the bed, was a schematic of what looked like a brain with parts missing, and other parts flashing red. He reached to a small tray, removed a syringe and administered a drug to her forearm. The doctor glanced at the display while making further adjustments, then shook his head. He walked over to where I was sitting. "I don't know what I can do for her. If I was to off myself, I'd go for good old .38. Plasma weapons are just too ugly."

"So is she dead?" I asked.

The doctor shook his head. "No, but the damage is extreme. The blast destroyed her left orbit, along with much of the left hemisphere of her brain, with significant damage to the other side as well. She lost all her left frontal lobe, most of the right one, parts of bothhippocampi, ugh. She's probably a vegetable. I've done everything I could to keep the swelling down."

I moaned. "That's fucked up." I wondered if it really was a good idea to expend the resources, and time, in keeping her alive. She wasn't a particularly nice creature, that's for sure. Maybe there was the hope that once separated from the V'Nari, and their influence, maybe she would change. The Cortrian changed, or maybe he simply wasn't like a typical V'Nari member. Could the Motrician captain have changed? Unfortunately, with the massive brain damage, I wasn't sure what we had laying on that bed. "Shouldn't we just pull the plug and pitch her out the airlock?"

"Hippocratic oaths, a request from the FSA, and shit," Doctor Costello said, though the tone of his voice did seem very pessimistic. "I might be able to save her, but for what? Regen can fix her brain, if she survives long enough, but her mind may be gone for good. She will probably have to literally start over from scratch. The FSA will likely get nothing out of her. I just need to keep her condition stable till we get her to Laeness. I just don't have the facilities to do this."

I held my bitten hand to the doctor for a change of subject. "This should be a lot less challenging. The cat bit me here, got me on the face a couple of hours ago, and had a Cortrian chew on me as well. I assume these are superficial, just worried about infection. Seems neither of them know how to brush or floss."

The doctor examined the injuries, then drew a wand-like device from a pouch on his hip, and waved it around my face. Glancing at a tiny display, he nodded, "I can swab the wounds and run a microbial inventory, but other than that, nothing you have goes much deeper than the outer dermis. You'll be fine. If you want, I can give you a few broad spectrum A.B.'s and A.V.'s, just for piece of mind."

"And of course, I spent about twenty-five seconds chewing vacuum." I reminded him.

"Most cases of short-term vacuum exposure are surprisingly benign," he explained. "I generally recommend a long acting anti-inflammatory to control edema and pain, though usually this isn't totally necessary. Now if you excuse me, I need to tend to the Motrician. I'll prepare your medications, shortly."

"Aye," I turned back to the captain. "This was definitely the most harrowing several days, ah, most harrowing few hours, I've ever experienced."

"Eugene may clear me for duty in a few days." Benson smiled. "Might be released as early as tonight or tomorrow morning."

"Nice." I glanced back at the doctor, who was securing a thick piece of gauze to the Motrician's destroyed eye socket. "What about Nakhara?"

"Relieve her, or keep her. After her actions, today..." Captain Benson grinned. "I'd let her make that decision."

Scot wandered into the infirmary, and took his seat on the bed next to the Motrician. He glared at her for a moment, then began to remove his shirt. A series of deep lacerations on his arms were still bleeding, along with, what appeared to be a multitude of minor scratches and bites. "Doc, can you check me out to make sure that, ah, thing didn't give me a disease."

I got to my feet, and walked over to Scot, while fumbling in my pocket for the marble-like device. Handing him the sphere, I said. "She said it was a toy. Could you have Sam down in engineering take a look at it."

Scot took the small device in his hand. "You seem a little unconvinced. You think it's real?"

"I don't know what to think," I answered. "Keep in mind, I used a toy field crumb on a couple of armed thugs on Alchoa II as a weapon to blind them."

Scot glanced at the sphere somewhat nervously, before gingerly slipping it in his pocket. "Aye."

"And maybe dispose of it, afterwards. I don't want it on the ship longer than it has to be."

* * * *

Less than three hours after my rescue, I was finally in a proper ship's uniform. After finally making the jump to hyperspace, I relaxed in my seat, totally exhausted. I had expected the FSA to demand that we remain in orbit while they conducted the investigation. Since no such request was made, leaving the system before such a request could be made, was definitely prudent. The Sabre of Justice was barely spaceworthy, and with the dock facility gone, refueling would be difficult and expensive, without a fuel scoop and a deuterium refining system. There was also the Motrician patient, who we had to get to the nearest planet with a full medical facility. Laeness IV was the closest with a full tier medical facility, as well as being the nearest Federation administrative hub, or regional capitol. If they wanted to debrief everyone, they could do it there, as far as I was concerned. I turned to Karen, who stood at her console. . "If the FSA complains that we left the system, tell them that we're heading to Laeness IV. Explain our situation?"

"Aye," she said as he worked at her console.

Tomorrow was definitely going to be a busy day. I was sure the FSA would want a full accounting of the events of the battle There would probably be some kind of bounty, once everything was said and done. With how badly the Sabre was damaged, any little bit would help.

Nakhara sat in the captain's seat, with Carl having volunteered as her executive officer. Looking at my display, I reported, "We're about nine hours to the Trans-Alchoan slipstream. There, will take us about 3.21 days to traverse to reach Alchoa II, where we should refuel. After that, we will make our way to Laeness IV. This is assuming we're able to make it to 3200c, which I think we'll be able to do, despite the damage, since we don't have the service craft to lug."

"Thank you for your report," Nakhara said, before glancing at Carl.

Looking down at my main screen, there was a number of vessels approaching the Ik'narr system. Several Wolf Hunter ships were already en route, possibly to help render aid to the colony, since their main dock facility was destroyed. One of the Wolf Hunter vessel was only a day away, having jumped from a neighboring system. Two FSA ships were about two or three days away, with another heading into the Ashara Tarr, likely to investigate Oubliette. Then, of course, there was one military vessel about three days away. "Looks like things are going to get pretty busy in this sector. FSA military, and non-military, Wolf Hunters. Maybe some civilian scavengers."

Carl nodded. "They finally send in the Calvary once the war is over."

"And I really really need to get some sleep." I reminded everyone.

"With the threat gone..." Carl mused aloud. "You've earned it. We've all earned it."

* * * *

I took a detour to the infirmary to check on Izsharrr. She lay perfectly still on her back, with tubes entering her nose through the mask. An IV tube, which was taped to her arm, led to small wheeled pedestal which dispensed saline and medications under computer control. Actual IV bags have, for the most part, become a thing of the past, since contact. I turned to Doctor Costello. "Any progress?"

"The only reason she's not dead, yet is because her eyeball was in the way. I've packed her orbit with gauze, and gave her plenty of antibiotics and antivirals to combat infection. I've also giving her medications medications to keep her brain from swelling. It's just that we're going to run out of these medications within a few days, at this rate."

"So are we going to pull the plug on her?" I asked.

"She might stabilize in a day or two," said the doctor. "If she does I can try to wean her off the medications. If not, I may have to. We can't jeopardize our own health and safety by diverting everything to a lost cause."

I wandered over to Captain Benson's bed. He sat on the bed glancing at a pad, scrolling through reports. He looked up and said, "Looks like I'll be discharged tomorrow morning."

"Awesome." I responded. "So how do you feel?"

"I still get minor bouts of dizziness, but they're becoming less frequent." The captain brushed his hand through his hair. "Getting bonked on the head by a busted support while the bridge was coming apart, around me, was definitely not fun. I was knocked out. Damn concussion."

* * * *

My old bed felt so comfortable, as I let myself float into a semi-conscious fog. I felt a strange feeling, like there was some kind of unfinished business. Was this due to the Motrician clinging to life in the infirmary? Or was there something more. There was a sense of longing, like the feeling that the wrong crew person survived the destruction of the Motrician ship. I felt sorry for the cat, but she was evil, lacking in what I felt was any kind of redeeming qualities. The Cortrian, Khaznar, however? His death weighed heavily on me. When he was making me uneasy, by keeping his intentions very vague, telling me that he wasn't going to rape me, yet, or bite me, yet, I began to appreciate this as merely his quirky sense of humor. He was toying with me, keeping me on edge for some reason. The sex wasn't great, his hygiene issues notwithstanding. The hurried nature of the encounter likely adversely affected things. His death just seemed so pointless, though maybe it was his plan. The Demon was too busy chewing on him to notice me taking aim. But instead, the Motrician survived, and lay nearly brain dead in the infirmary.

* * * *

"We're losing her," Doctor Costello frowned as he looked at the screen.

The infirmary was the first place I visited, when I got up in the morning. Captain Benson was not on his bed, likely having been discharged. I turned to the doctor and asked, "What's happening to her?"

"I didn't dare do a deep debridement of her injuries. I just didn't have the right equipment nor expertise to go in and remove all the charred and necrotic bits of eyeball and brain from her head. I did the best I could with what I had."

I looked down at the prone figure. The mask and tubes continued to pump air in her. Her only existing eye was partially closed. "Infection?"

"No," he sighed. "Her immune system is going crazy attacking the dead tissue. There's renewed inflammation of her brain, and I can't control it. I'm going to put her on an immune-suppressant, but that will probably kill her."

I looked down at the Motrician. "Isn't she pretty much brain dead?"

"Minimal brain-steam function, yeah." The doctor paused as he checked a display on a nearby screen. "If she did make it and went through regen, we'd have a eighty-five kilogram baby Motrician on our hands. Not exactly a dignified couple of decades she would have to endure. Fortunately, that's unlikely to happen, I her current state."

* * * *

I made my way to the bridge and took my seat. Daryl sat at the weapon console. Captain Benson stood near the door, with Carl, and Nakhara sat in the captain's seat.

"Any way I could have some kind of seat," complained Karen, who was standing at her console."

I turned to my console and checked the screen. One of the Wolf Hunter ships had entered the Ik'narr system, with two others mere hours away. Checking velocity and heading, I was rather happy that we managed a cruising speed of 3350c, slightly better than I thought we'd achieve.

"I'll see if Sam can have something rigged for you," Captain Benson said to Karen. "I'm sure we can find or fashion something that can sit over the old post."

Daryl turned and smiled at me. "Are we finally out of the woods?"

I nodded. "I think so. I hope so. Why do I have this horrible feeling that maybe something else is going to come up? I ah, I mean, I don't mean to alarm you."

"I, ah, I understand." Daryl turned back to check the displays on his console."

Nakhara turned to me and grinned, showing her canines. "Remember tonight. You made a promise."

Daryl smiled. "I ah, I think I know what she ah, intends."

I stammered awkwardly. "Look, that's private, guys."

As the day wore on, there was little for me to do, but monitor our progress, and watch the local traffic patterns. Ships were practically pouring into the Ik'narr system. Wolf Hunters, two FSA non-military, along with at least one military light cruiser, on its way. There was still a nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right. Was it the impending death of Captain Izsharrr? Or was it the loss of the Cortrian, who became an unlikely friend in my time of dire need?

* * * *

At the end of the day, I began to make my way to Nakhara'a quarters. I had a date, and I was going to keep it. As I stepped off the ladder on deck two, the shipwide intercom sounded. "Doctor Costello to Arthur Harrison. Please report to the Infirmary?"

I sighed, as I turned back to the ladder. I thought to myself, Sorry Nakhara, I'm going to be a bit late. Once I climbed to deck one, I made my way to the infirmary.

The Motrician remained comatose as the doctor looked down at the body, then shook his head. "There's nothing I can do. Infection is now spreading through her brain, sepsis, all the fun shit. She won't last the night. Captain Benson told me that you have authorization to order me to pull the plug."

The decision was, for me, very straightforward. "Yeah, go ahead."

Doctor Eugene Costello reached down and slowly turned a dial on the console that handled her oxygen needs. I expected her to gasp, maybe jerk, but was surprised at the total lack of response. The blinking light, and the soft beep slowed, then stopped.

Doctor Costello looked at a display, then typed something on a pad as he spoke. "July 9th, 2153, 21:36, Captain, whats her name, Motrician, deceased. Going to do a proper report in the morning.

I looked down at the body and spoke, "Captain Izsharrr of the_Kyrrrandarr's Claw,_last of the Zynarrkus Mrr'Uk." I pondered what to say? Did I want to do a prayer of some kind, despite being pretty much an atheist? I thought about this for a moment. "You were a total cunt in life. May you find peace, I guess. May you--"

The door opened, and Sam barged in. "There you are. The Captain said I might find you here."

I turned to Sam with a start. "What's the matter."

He held up the small black sphere. "You're instincts! This thing's real?"

"She said it was a toy" I protested. "You mean?"

"Don't worry, it's not live. There's no antimatter in it, so it's safe, but it is real. I don't know if it was ever, ah, filled, or if it was an empty, maybe failed quality control, and sold as a novelty."

"Is it valuable?" I asked. "Like, is it worth giving to the authorities?"

"Nah, it's junk," Sam shook his head. "The Federation authorities have hundreds of these things, and have even come across a few fully live ones as well. I'd still say, we should keep it as evidence."

I sighed. "Okay. Put it somewhere safe. I don't want someone fucking with it, and find out that it still had a few micrograms floating around inside it."

* * * *

Nakhara was extremely disappointed, when I told her that I wanted to put things off till tomorrow. I still hadn't written my report, and wanted to get it done as soon as possible. Back in my quarters, I lay on my bed with my MPAD, speaking, as it dictated. Though I had already done, and sent my report on the planet Oubliette several days before, I decided to reiterate my findings to include in my current report. Of course, what to include. The scanner, with all the data that was recorded was lost with the service craft, though much of the data had been previously sent with my last report. I focused on the battle, my rescue of my crew, and my capture. Then there was Captain Izsharrr, her incompetence, and how she let the V'Nari dictate everything. Then there was a young male Cortrian who she had dismissed, forced to live in a dirty storage room, who ultimately had aided my escape, having scarified himself in the process. Finally, there was the matter of Izsharrr's suicide, during the final confrontation in the galley. The report was quite lengthy, but I still felt it was missing something. Why? Why did this all happen? I've always known that the Zephenidians have dad a long-term alliance of sorts with the V'Nari, but now I knew that they've been fully entangled for centuries. In fact, I really wondered if the Animalkind were the true power behind the Establishment of Prukak all along. The Khash'ik Kooph, a great coup launched by the Establishment of Prukak, which culminated in the deaths of over 500 million Zephenidians, seemed like something the V'Nari would have helped orchestrate.

I finished my report, and set the tablet down next to my bed. I thought about contacting the ships that had entered the Ik'narr system and seeing if they could recover Khaznar's body. I felt I owed him a proper burial in proper soil, under a proper tree that was warmed by a proper sun.

* * * *

"What do you mean, you found a survivor? We blew the ship to pieces!" Karen said adamantly.

I had just entered the bridge. The face on the screen was a young Wolf Hunter captain, though his eyes betrayed years far beyond what his face revealed. The face turned to follow me as I walked to my console. "Art, hey, is that you?"

I knew that face. He was captain Angelo Francisco of the ship Castigo, one of the oldest Wolf Hunter captains in the fleet, though still not the oldest member by a long shot. He was still a few decades older than me, having grown up while music on cassette tape was still popular. "Hey, Angelo. So what's going on. Looks like a party got underway in the Ik'narr system, after we left."

"We found a survivor in the cat ship's wreckage." The captain looked very serious. Angelo wasn't someone who was known to joke around, frivolously.

"We blew the ship apart." I reiterated. "How could there be anyone."

"We found an escape pod, still attached to the chunk of hull with an occupant. A very seriously hurt Cortrian male."

"What?" I was taken aback.

"We couldn't recognize his species at first. When we transported him, he was just totally matted with blood. I think a S'grallian, a Demon, mauled him."

I rose from my seat. "Did he say anything! Is he still alive?"

"His condition is extremely grave. Our doctor says he's got multiple deep puncture wounds, almost all his ribs are broken, several breaks in his thoracic vertebrae, possibly with a severed spine. I think the failure of his pod's life support system might have saved his life, by reducing his body temperature. What he said? Now that's why we didn't shoot him after we materialized him on our pad teleport pad."

I was certain it was Khaznar. "What did he say?"

"Why are you crying?" Captain Francisco chuckled slightly.

"Answer please," I tried to casually brush the tear off my face.

"The Cortrian asked me if his 'Chuthnu-friend' made it."

"Tell him that I made it. Tell him I'm fine. He helped me escape."

The captain of the Castigo smiled. I see. He also made a request. He had me scan for a MPAD-like device, which I found, about ten clicks from the wreckage. It wasn't hard to find, since it was putting out a lot of signal since it was frantically trying to reconnect to the ship's WiFi."

"I think he's smart, like really extremely smart." I said to the image on the screen.

"Smart enough to be a threat?" Captain Francisco appeared very concerned.

"No. Smart enough to be a friend." I said, as I smiled.

After a pause, Captain Francisco said, "Well, tomorrow, an FSA vessel will be rendezvousing with us to take the Cortrian, since they have a far better medical facility then we do, as well as his data tablet."

"Let them know he helped us," I reminded him. "And helped me. They should be getting my report, if they don't already have it."

"Aye. Well, we're going to be heading to the colony to help with relief efforts, body recovery, stuff like that."

I waved, than let Karen take over so she could handle any of the data transfers, including a copy of my report. The captain chair was empty, with Nakhara, Carl, and Captain Benson having a friendly discussion. Nakhara turned to me, and half-grinned, half bared her teeth. "You're not getting away with this, tonight."

I nodded. "Don't worry. Tonight I'm yours."

* * * *

That night, I made my way to Nakhara's quarters. As I stepped off the ladder, Jurrukush was waiting for me, though without his translator. He eyed me intensely. I waved at him as I began to walk past him. "What are you doing?" I realized that since neither of us had a translator, he could not understand me.

Jurrukush stepped forwards, and grabbed me roughly in his arms. With a low growl, he pulled me head back and nipped roughly at my neck.

"Hey, I'm Nakhara's for tonight?" I protested, despite the lack of translator.

He began dragging me through the corridor. I heard a laugh, and as turned, I saw Daryl against the wall, chuckling, before waving.

"What's going on," I fought to say, before Jurrukush grabbed my mouth in his jaws, and began assaulting my soft palate with his tongue. As I was being bodily half-carried, half-dragged, while having my face half-eaten, I noticed from the corner of my eye, that the door to Nakhara's quarters was open. Jurrukush turned and dragged me through the threshold. I felt a second set of clawed fingers begin to massage my shoulders, before feeling her teeth gently rake along the nape of my neck. I tried to speak, but all that came out of my mouth was a high squeak of pure ecstasy.

Daryl stood at the open doorway of Nakhara's quarters, then gave a shy wave. "Have fun, guys. Have fun."