SAVRA - CHANGE MACHINE

[Amazee Dayzee]

I know now that Savra truly is a bad guy that does like doing bad things but he isn't completely evil. Just a bit of a darker gray than usual. Nice work!

[Harry Johnathan]

I enjoy the moral dilemmas and conflicted characters you present.

Also, Techrat

[Amazee Dayzee]

He might have a new breakout character with that! I chortled at it!

[Welsh Halfwit]

In which Savra does a very nasty thing to set a trap...

FOURTY-NINE

Savra stood in the middle of the room and spoke up. “I’m Captain Savra. I’m not from Ultimma or Dewless or Daklia! If you want to get out of here alive, this is your only chance. Bring the Professor out with you. Do it before I have to hunt for you!”

A section of the wall began to open up, resulting in Savra and Rawton being ready with their projectile weaponry as three figures made their way out from a panic room setup that the Captain could see was merely a slim room with vidpanels built into the walls. “Throw your guns away,” Rawton warned the captives. “Or I’ll kill ya dead.” He gave them a crooked smile that helped to sell the situation to the Lappinean and Mican in the group.

The Canine, however, kept his weapon in hand. “I want to parlay,” he said as the others weapons hit the floor. Rawton indicated for them to get on their knees and the pair complied. “I’m a senior member in the Dewless organisation,” the Canine declared, “and…” He didn’t get any further as the electro-whip lashed out, scorching the hand holding the gun. It left a brown stripe over the tan fur and the Canine looked at it in shock as his gun fell away, creating the perfect target for Savra to lash the whip across his face, tearing and burning bitterly into the flesh of the face, scorching and bubbling the blood underneath as the Canine fell to the floor. Savra turned the power off, straddled the back of the target and wrapped the whip around the target’s neck to start strangling him.

“I have all the stuff from the deep core station,” he hissed into the Canine’s ear. “And I need to send a message to Chula. Why shouldn’t it be your broken body, ‘Officer’?”

“Because I could do with a slave,” Muta said from behind him, making him look over to her and refrain from increasing the pressure beyond eye straining. “When you’re gone, remnants of the Dewless will still be here. Implant that with one of your bomb chips and I get a weak willed little coward who knows all their secrets. He’ll help us clear the trouble up or I’ll kill him with a fingerstroke.”

“Tempting,” Savra growled, giving one final pull on the whip as the Canine gripped it feebly. The Captain relaxed the grip and stood up before Muta moved in to boot the captive in the face. He crumpled to the floor.

“What,” Muta shrugged. “I don’t need him yet. Where’s the Professor?”

The Mican quickly spoke up, despite the glare he got from the Lappinean. “He’s back… back there,” he said, pointing to the safe room. “Tied and gagged! Don’t kill me!”


Savra stepped into the small room behind the wall and saw the fearful face of a Raitchian Professor with his hands tied behind him, the ropes going around the bar of a chair as a muzzle cover enclosed his muzzle to stop him talking. Savra supposed that, being Raitchian, the standard gags wouldn’t work on this guy. He recalled Barnabus – or Dastari as he had been then – gnawing through a metal table leg to aid in an escape attempt and the boy had only been nine at the time. “Professor Schofield, I assume,” he asked, already knowing the individuals name was Patterson. He removed the muzzle.

The Professor spat saliva out as soon as he was able and gestured for Savra to hand him one of the pieces of wood on the table, which the pirate did, putting it into the Scientist’s mouth so he could gnaw at it and crack his teeth back down to a comfortable level. “Patterson, actually,” he protested, passing the first test. “Who are you?”

“Rescue party,” Savra said, breaking the bonds with his knife. “Bad guys opposed to those bad guys.”

The Professor rolled his eyes. “So I’m not out of the stew yet,” he guessed. “I’m some sort of bait?”

“You’re every sort of bait. You good to move?” He pulled the rope from around the Professors legs and the academic stood up wonkily.

He stretched and luxuriated in the freedom of movement for a moment as his back cricked noisily. “Kept me tied to the chair for over a day,” he complained, looking around for his trousers as Savra noted the chair had been adapted for, well, continuous use. “Apparently they wanted me to do some sort of operation,” he continued, pulling his lower clothes back on.

Savra wondered how dedicated he’d been to the mission that he’d not even noticed the Rat was only half dressed. Nevermind. After turning off all the systems in the safe room, he escorted the Rat out into the main room and thrust him towards Janus. “Take the Professor to the car. Rawton, you and Muta take that to the car,” he pointed towards the ‘officer’ on the floor. “Throw it in the trunk and make sure it stays out.”


As the three left, Savra turned to the pair on the floor. He gripped the Mican by the lapels and pulled him up to his feet. “I’m looking to send a message to Chula,” he breathed into the frightened face.

“I can… I can take a message,” the Mican stammered uncertainly. “What… what is it?” He smiled hopefully.

“That I reward those who help me,” Savra stated, saliva spitting straight into the white face. He threw the creature towards the door. “Tell them I said you could go.” He turned towards the Lappinean. “As for you,” he stated as the Mican fled. “I still need to send that message.” He pulled the female up and stabbed her straight in the stomach, twisting the blade as she gaped and put her hands to his shoulders. “Would that I could have made it painless,” he told her as she started dying right in front of his face,, the shock showing on her face as he carefully laid her down for the count on the floor, “but he’d never buy it if it looked too easy,” he added, dipping a hand into her blood to write the word ‘Muta’ on the floor in the local dialect. He took her struggling hand and put her fingers into her own wound to make it look like she’d written it and then put his hands over her muzzle to end the pain as best he could, having used her strained attempts to pull away across the floor to sell the event as well. That done, he washed the knife – and his hand - off in the nearest sink, sheathed it and headed upstairs to the others.

“Saw the Mouse leavin’ a few minutes back,” Rawton told him. “Like he needed the toilet badly an’ had a mile to run!”

“You let him go,” Savra asked.

“Yeah. Said he were some sort of message?”

“Good,” Savra stated, getting in the car.

“An’ the other,” the Lappinean asked.

“Also a message,” Savra said starkly. “One Chula should receive shortly.”

[Harry Johnathan]

I like how you make Savra charming and likeable, so the moments where he performs cruel acts sting a lot harder. It makes for effective character because he makes you both root for him also want to see him fail. You begin to really like him during the few scenes where he's being nice or joking around, and then you're like, "what's wrong with me".

[Amazee Dayzee]

Apparently there is a phenomenon in fiction that explains you wanting to root for the bad guy or villain and try to justify the fact that they aren't that bad. Its called "Draco in Leather Pants" and it happens in fanfiction. I'm glad you are laying out exactly how bad he is straight out Welsh.

[NHWestoN]

Charming villains can be the most sinister, the diabolical rogue is a hard character to sustain in fiction. Nice work.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I always knew that he would be able to make a compelling character in Savra. Welsh always does!

[Welsh Halfwit]

FIFTY

“Did you kill the girl,” Muta asked Savra, as they headed back to the Wolvens’ mansion house.

On the other side of the back seat, Savra grunted slightly, seemingly not paying attention, before turning towards Muta. “Yes. It was necessary.”

“Wh...why so,” the Professor queried, sipping from a bottle of water Muta had given him from a doorside container.

“If you’re going to bait a trap,” Muta explained, “it never does much good to make it look too simple.”

“If it looks like there’s been no fight,” Janus contributed whilst concentrating on his driving on unfamiliar roads through unfamiliar fields, “then there’s not much of a chance they’d believe he didn’t go willingly.”

“Besides,” Savra remarked, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head, “she used her dying strength to write a message to her clan after being fatally wounded trying to keep people from her captive. The clan’ll respect that. They’ll deal with her correctly. And her family.”

“If she’s gotten any,” Rawton contributed, figuring he should get in on the conversation and remind everybody that he was still there, not that they’d forgotten.

“Why don’t you get some hover vehicles,” Janus asked, changing the subject.

“Roads aren’t right for them,” the gang leader confessed. “Not enough recharge generators set up yet. So what happens now?”

“Professor goes under guard at your place. Chula WILL come for him. Soon.”

“Why?”

“Tell her, Professor.”

“I…” He swallowed more water. “They told me all about what’s needed and that they need someone to monitor the results in case of rejection. They had me set up a small laboratory and everything.” He smiled a smile that never threatened the corners of his eyes. “I don’t think my life expectancy was measured in the months, if I’m honest.”

“And now,” Rawton asked, glancing over the seat at him.

The Professor looked him in the eye and flinched in the seat. “Hours, if I’m lucky,” he admitted.

Rawton chuckled his signature laugh. “Well, you’re a smartie!” He shuffled back around as Janus entered a town zone and slowed to thirty. Even Rawton had to suppose that, with a pirate captain, a mob boss and a missing professor in the back seats and an unconscious Canine in the trunk, it might be a bad time to be pulled over by a traffic officer for going five above.


Virrik sat at her station with the comm set to ‘voice only as she chatted with Pantha down in engineering whilst she watched over the two who were still being remade. The Canine who’d chosen to cross with another Canine hadn’t much interested her so she’d sent her away about five minutes after she’d woken up. “So,” she asked Pantha with exaggerated effortlessness, “has Charlie… uh, TechRat, shown any… How to put it..?”

<”Side effects,”> Pantha’s voice replied. <”Well, he’s showing off his new body and he seems a lot more confident with the women. Apparently he’s invited two out already.”>

“And that’s unusual?”

<”It’s given him a boost to his confidence, it seems. I don’t mean he asked them out separately. I mean he asked them out together!>”

“That’s definitely an anomaly,” Virrik contributed, drawing up the details of the Raitchian genetic donor and his record as a Lothario as she turned off the link. It was interesting, she thought. She’d noted traces of Rawton’s personality coming through with Mati but, as she’d not seen the full Wolf form of the guy, she couldn’t be sure. He’d certainly taken to the reproductive system of a Lappinean and, from comments Muta had made, he’d always been a proud Wolf beforehand. Two pieces of evidence that pointed towards an amended personality being born out of the personalities that went into it. She wondered if they should kidnap a psychiatrist for what may be going to happen to this pair in the upcoming month. What might happen if the blended pair decided they didn’t want to be a pair after making such a sacrifice for each other. She rubbed her hands together. “Oh, the fun of experiments,” she said aloud.

“Talking to me,” Cherry asked, poking her head around the door.

“I’ll call you by name if I’m speaking to you, girl.” She pointed a stirring rod at her new underling. “Watch out when TechRat drops off those old clothes of his. Apparently he’s a lovemaking predator now.”

Cherry sighed. “Isn’t everyone on this ship?”

Virrik sighed. “Choose one. Break them to your will by helping them fall in love with you and letting them make out. Best way to stop most of them pestering you.”

“Like you’d know,” Cherry asked.

Virrik turned her face into a snarl. “No cheek, girl. And it’s not like some haven’t scratched the itch on occasion.”

Cherry didn’t want to know.


“When are we going to run into them,” Savra asked as Janus drove on.

“Who,” Muta replied, doing her best to look innocent as she sipped water. She had a feeling the Captain knew her little secret.

“The people you called on the comm you took when Rawton hunted down the reporter, of course.”

Savra’s gaze told her that he wasn’t to be lied to on this one and she put the small bottle down to her side before making to fish the device out but Savra stopped her and put his own hand down the back of her trousers to find it. “Little to the… heh… left,” she said, directing his hand to the small device. “It was more of an insurance measure,” she explained, looking at him coyly. “So my people would know where to look if I didn’t come back.” She had more to say but lost track as Savra kissed her fully, locking his teeth around hers and jousting with tongues, putting a hand to the side of her head for a moment before releasing. “The kiss before dying,” Muta ventured.

“Someone’s dying tonight,” Savra agreed as the car reached Wolf manor.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Doesn't somebody usually die whenever Savra is around? It seems like it happens 70% of the time. LOL

[Harry Johnathan]

Two pieces of evidence that pointed towards an amended personality being born out of the personalities that went into it. She wondered if they should kidnap a psychiatrist. What would happen if the blended pair decided they didn’t want to be together after making this sacrifice. “Oh, the fun of experiments!” Virrik said.

You could really write an entire story just around the weird ethical and legal issues that would arise from shapeshifting/DNA altering goo.

Also, I totally called it in regards to Muta and Savra!

[Amazee Dayzee]

Two violent and borderline insane people coming together in a relationship is always something you can't look away from. If only because it is so disturbing!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Oh, they're not 'coming together'. Savra quite likes snogging beautiful women though.

Rawton on patrol...

FIFTY-ONE

Three guards roamed the rooms, looking nervously at Rawton as he licked his knives for their benefit and they recalled what he’d done just a few days previously. “Hope you don’t take it personally,” he called out to the latest pair, making them shudder and increase their speed by at least five percent. He chuckled. “Keep on your toes, kid,” he called. “Chula’s coming,” he said before listening intently.


Muta sat in the drawing room with Savra and the Professor and a single guard by the door. “How long do you think it’ll take him to get the message,” she asked, passing canapés over to the academic.

“Could be days,” Sarva announced, inspecting the rather rigid guard and enjoying the feeling of fear he got from the ramrod straight Wolven whose eyes were trying not to follow him as he crouched to check out the guard’s chest piece. “But I doubt it. Someone will have checked their ‘safe house’ before long and found my message. Then they’ll contact their leak in your organisation…” He looked up at the guard. “It’s not you, is it?” Frantic shaking of the Wolven head. “In some cultures shaking heads means yes,” he continued, tensing his claws.

“I’D NEVER DO THAT,” the guard shouted in a panic, almost hopping on his feet as he spoke loudly above Savra’s head. “You have to believe me!”

Savra grinned wickedly as he stood up to full height. “I do,” he stated simply. “it takes courage you haven’t got to do something like that.” He clapped the guard on the shoulder. “Never mind. You might die proving your courage tonight. Something to look forward to, eh?”

The Wolven couldn’t help but agree. A sociopath was touching him and they were on the same side at the moment.

“If it’s not him,” Savra continued, twisting to look at the others whilst keeping his hand on the guards shoulder, “then Dewless will know the Professor’s here and under minimal security right now. I doubt that’s a chance that Chula’s going to pass up.” Savra cheered internally as he felt the guards’ pulse increase at the mention of the name. The fear of first time knowledge proved the innocence. Perhaps. But he couldn’t leave his hand there forever. He clapped the shoulder ‘reassuringly’ and removed the hand. “He’ll be here soon, I reckon. And Gallen’s watching out for the ship.”

“Leaving you here with me. I still think about killing you, you know?” She passed tea over to the Professor. “What you’re supposed to be doing to Chula,” she told him, “this thing and his Doctor… Vera, isn’t it… have already done to my brother.” She scowled. “They stained him with Lappinean DNA without hesitation and applied that… thing to him.”

“Rawton bit him,” Savra stated. “We didn’t know about the bonding process. We just knew it was something that looked benign but was being shipped illegally. We wanted to know why.” He slapped the flat bottom of a fist into the wall, making a dull slapping sound. “I wasn’t ready to risk a crewman but I knew of two Wolven I owed a debt to so I picked them up. Muta here was lucky. I went easy on her.”

Muta scoffed and then thought of something. “You still not going to say what we did, are you?” The Pirate shook his head. “Thought not. Knowledge is strength. You know I have hidden weapons all around this room?”

“Not that you need them,” Savra pointed out, taking the blade hidden in the bookcase and handing it to her graciously. “A Bookcase with actual books. Very enlightened of you.”

“Yes,” Muta replied, “have you read any,” she asked coyly, making the Professor choke on his drink.


Rawton loped slightly to keep up with the guard he’d decided to escort on his sweep of the rooms and sought to make conversation to pass the time. “Only four of you guards for the house,” he asked, genuinely intrigued in the answer to the question he had yet to ask. “Why so few of you?”

The Canine looked at him with something akin to disgust. “There is a small scale war on,” he pointed out. “A fair few went to protect their families.”

Rawton cocked his head in consideration, then furrowed his brow as they passed by a Ganerria portrait that he’d seen a few nights back. “But… why didn’t they just move them in here,” he asked, looking into the frightened eyes of the Mican being set upon by two Wolven in combat armour as depicted by one of the best chroniclers of the Prey wars in artistic form. His pictures had been used in the reparation settlements. “They’re the guards, after all. They have the guns.”

“That’s… a thought,” the guard admitted, “but what would have happened if they’d been here a few nights ago?” His tone became tense; practised civility when thinking about daggered words. “When some maniac attacked the place and killed two guards?”

Rawton, in the moment of straightening a painting that didn’t actually need it, stopped and cast his mind back to that pleasant evening. “Yeah, I suppose sometimes your defences are shite. I could give you some tips on that. Like you should kill that guy you were with earlier? When I told you Chula was coming? Heard your hearts right after. Yours went batty.”

The Canine looked embarrassed, reaching over to scritch his neck as he grimaced and tried to chuckle it out. “Well, heh, he does have something of a reputation.”

“Hmm,” Rawton said, taking out the hollow metal straw he’d saved the engineer with and used it to gnaw his teeth down in a disconcerting way before taking it out and spitting teeth at the floor. “Still tastes of putty. Anyhow, your heart went up a lot. His? Barely moved. Figured he knew Chula was around. Might want to have words with him about that.”

“Might do,” the Canine replied, looking to get in contact with the Officer by comms.

Rawton held up a hand. “He can’t answer,” he informed. “Someone broke his wrists and ankles, gagged him and stuffed him in a toilet cubicle shortly before I joined you.”

“And, if he’s innocent?”

Rawton cocked his head again, as though the thought had never occurred to him up to this moment. He put a finger claw to his trimmed teeth as he looked askew at the wall and ceiling. Nice artexing, he thought. “On his home ground,” he ventured, “I got the drop on him and broke him in half without an effort. How much help was he going to be?”

The Canine pointed a finger, opened his mouth, looked for the words and shut his mouth again. “I suppose there’s something to that,” he admitted.


Outside, Janus waited in the car, wondering why he’d asked to be left out here to take the comm signal from Gallen when everyone else was inside. There was a shield up, which was something, but he was still exposed to the… <”Marren to Janus,”> the comm said.

“Janus T. Sexy here, Marren,” he replied.

<”Dream on, Janus. Tell the boss that there’s a certain cruiser coming in on your location. Over.”>

[Amazee Dayzee]

Love the work that you did with this chapter! I have to wonder if Savra also likes one-night-stands with beautiful women too since he seems the type that would go farther than just kissing (aka snogging on the other side of the pond)

[Harry Johnathan]

"It’s not you, is it?” Frantic shaking of the Wolven head. “In some cultures shaking heads means yes,” he continued, tensing his claws.

Nice bit of worldbuilding there, it can feel weird to remember that seemingly simple things like shaking your head could mean entirely different thing to an alien culture.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I am still wondering if it really is illegal to lick doorknobs on other planets.

[Welsh Halfwit]

FIFTY-TWO

Janus carefully knocked on the front door of the mansionand waited for a full half minute before knocking again. He was halfway through the knock when the door opened and he looked into the face of someone who looked uncommonly like a butler. “Yes, Master Janus,” Postlewick demanded imperiously, “is there a message?”

“Indeed there is, my good Mouse,” Janus said with exaggerated politeness, bowing to the Mican. “I request permission to enter and inform the lady of the house that the Dewless Clan are shortly going to knock on the door and I would rather be inside, in the security room, than outside, in the open, where anyone might choose to shoot me.” He sidestepped the butler and entered the house. “How did you know my name, by the way?”

Postlewick took in a breath and tried not to gag on the scents Janus was wearing before he replied. “Mister Savra was good enough to tell me that you were parked outside, waiting for a message from elsewhere. It is why I didn’t set the Earth Canines on you, sir.”

Janus looked in on where several hungry Dober type non sentients were roaming and foaming behind a glass door and decided he’d better not mention any of this to Hastur. She’d never looked prettier in his memory.

Postlewick tapped the wallcom and got himself through to the drawing room. “The Chauffeur has just relayed the message, M’lady,” he said brightly, “the tradesman you have been awaiting is approaching the gate, ma’am.”


In the drawing room, Muta responded for the senior members, showing her dignity. “Thank you, Postlewick. Take the Chauffeur and the other members of the household staff to the secure room in the basement. Give the young male a biscuit or something.”

<”Of course, Ma’am,”> Postlewick said, allowing Muta to cut the line.

“What is it with people wanting to sound like spies on the comm,” Savra asked. “Just deliver the message. Not like it’s a secret.”

Muta ignored him. She agreed with him but it was moot. If the ship was coming, her guards needed alerting. She tapped the comm gracefully. “Captain, the enemy is here.” She terminated the call. “You better be correct about this.”

Savra nodded grimly and pointed to the Professor, who did his best to look as though he knew what was going on. “Chula can’t lose him,” he stated. “Any heavy handed move against you runs the risk of killing chummy here. They don’t know the process is so simple that any third year medical student could do it.”

“Oh, charmed,” the Professor muttered.

“Oh, come now,” Muta replied, taking a sip from her tea, “your Doctor ‘Vera’ is hardly a medical student, hmm? Not with her record.”

“Her record is mostly earned on the ship,” Savra stated simply. “She’s gained a lot of experience in the travels.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Muta stated playfully. “She seems the sort. Both ‘night and day’, so to speak.” Another sip.


“You think they think we’re out here,” Barnabus asked Merran in a low tone. The Kerbal was hiding in low orbit this time, on the opposite side of the planet to the current situation.

“Nope,” the ‘department head’ whispered back, “Muta got us into the surveillance satellite net so we’re able to see and use it. We’re looking invisible to it too, thanks to Kurmak and switching the transponder off.”

“Then why are we whispering,” Barnabus asked curiously.

“You started it,” she replied with a toothy grin. “Anything on the internals?”

“Chef’s requesting more Kolvaleaf from stores.” Barnabus replied, “Vera’s talking to mum about TechRat again and got Mayweather trying to put a call through to his mother.”

Merran put a hand on his shoulder. “You sure on that last one,” she asked curiously. Barnabus pulled up the record for the commset he’d heard the call on and Merran checked the digi-number it was being put through to. She cursed slightly, attracting Gallens’ attention and he moved over to the Mican earwigger as Barnabus tried not to snicker at the bad word he’d just learned and wouldn’t repeat to Shandy later on.

“What’s the trouble, Merran,” Uncle Gallen asked, his hands on the back of Barnabus’s chair and his breath on the boy’s head.

“Barnabus just logged Mayweather from Engineering putting a call through to his mother.” The Mican turned to look into the Celican’s bewildered face. “I watched the relay of her funeral two months ago, sir. You don’t forget something like that. I can patch it up if you like?”

“Better you patch in to that communication,” Gallen ordered. “I’ll get some of Rawton’s people ready in case. Good catch, Barnabus.” He ruffled the boys’ headfur. Barnabus scowled with immense pride as he put his head back the way he liked it. He felt, rather than heard, the stiffness in his ‘Uncles’ gait as he headed back to the command chair and sat down to comm the security people.

“Yeah, you better send them in, boss,” Merran said casually. “Call trace is leading to a spot on the colony.”


Rawton could feel the electricity in the air. Battle was coming and he was ready for it. His blade was bared and ready to find a living sheath at the first opportunity. He chuckled at the thought that he might be able to get Chula himself. The idea of an anti-climactic kill appealed to him. Besides Gallen and Savra had both had a chance at Chula, wasn’t it his turn now? The Canine he was walking with examined a wall panel and the read out on it. “They’re scanning us,” he confided. “Probably looking for the shield frequency. Then they’ll beam in. The Drawing room’s got it’s additional teleport blocker so they’ll need to come through here after they beat the shields…”

“Chula’s got some way of teleporting through shields,” Rawton contributed. “Probably some way of matching the shield frequency and sending someone through at that exact frequency. What,” he asked, looking at the face of the Canine.

The guard chose his words. “You didn’t want to tell us earlier? About this tech?”

Rawton shrugged. “Didn’t want to worry ya,” he admitted, loping towards the ballroom where his whiskers were detecting the electricity of an incoming teleport...

[Amazee Dayzee]

That was so considerate of Rawton that he didn't want to worry the guards so he didn't tell them about the weapons! He might not be all bad after all then.

[Welsh Halfwit]

FIFTY-THREE


Seven of them, Rawton reckoned before he launched himself around the corner at speed, tucking his ears in to avoid the incoming shot as he angled his feet to the floor and took off at an odd angle that kept them from getting an accurate bead on him as the Canine he’d associated with called it in and fired from the passageway, keeping their heads down. Rawton drew his own weapon and shot at the invaders from the sideboard before diving for the floor and firing from there as well. He figured he couldn’t shoot for toffee but fire enough shots and something would bleed. His friend, who Rawton had decided he would avenge if he died, was helping keeping them pinned as the other two guards who weren’t working for the Dewless entered the fight, surrounding the superior firepower as best they could.


Chula arrived in something that looked very much like a lavatory. With the comm of the accomplice acting as a beacon it had been easy to direct the teleport and he wasn’t happy about the fact he was looking directly at a closed door. There was blood trickling out under it and whimpering noises coming from inside. He kicked the door in, slamming it into the nose of the crippled Celican inside who blinked back tears as Chula removed the gag Rawton had applied. “So,” he said, “they found you out?”

“Th...th..that bloomin’ lunatic Rabbitoid,” the Celican cried through the pain of his broken limbs.

“Don’t need you then, do I,” Chula asked, before snapping the prisoners neck in a way that jerked him like a puppet with cut strings. Chula took his comm from him and added it to his own. “I don’t do rescues, fella,” he told the mangled figure. “So, Rawton’s here, is he? Should have guessed Savra was back around this…” He looked to comm the ship but…


“Jammer’s in place,” Muta advised as the guard left to join in the fight. “I wonder when he’ll realise he can’t contact his ship?”

“Probably pretty soon. He’s sent in a distraction squad to keep your guards busy. He’ll be looking to extract this guy and kill you. He might not know I’m here. Gives us a slight advantage.”

“I have a gun,” she remarked.

“He has a personal force shield,” Savra commented. “Reacts to and dissipates incoming energy. Even my whip is affected.”

“Wonderful.”

“On the plus side,” Savra added, examining the bookcases and deciding to steal the first edition of Krayll’s ‘War and Blood’ later, “he doesn’t use a gun either. He likes a straight up fight. He thinks that makes him honourable.”

“You Pirates are strange like that.”

“Tell me about it.”


Gallen had the Kerbal moving. Having taken the enemy ships position from the satellites, he was convinced they were coming up on the ‘blind side’ of the ship but he had no knowledge of their capabilities beyond the ability to teleport Chula through shields. They still had theirs raised. Gallen didn’t think much of this. He was going into battle without their main helm officer and without their psychotic, unofficial, head of security. Well, the enemy wasn’t exactly in tip top condition either. “Time on target, Kurmak,” he asked tightly.

“Five minutes at current speed, sir,” the Feline replied, twisting around in his seat in that creepy way they did.

“If we increase speed,” Gallen observed, “they might be able to detect us. Same for the Militia.”

Barnabus creased his brow as a thought occurred to him at his station. He began to turn to ask his Mother’s mate the question but Merran took his hand to stop him. She’d not said much since discovering the potential spy in their midst and the action almost made him flinch before she asked him what was up. “Why aren’t the Militia picking them up,” he asked quietly.

“Possibly they are,” the middle aged Mican said gently. “They might be listed as a freighter on the lists. Or Dewless has someone in Militia control. We just have to accept we’re not going to be so lucky, eh?”

He grinned in embarrassment at not having figured that out. “Yeah, um, guess so.”

She tickled his muzzletop with a finger. “We all live and learn, sweetie. Ears back to the work now,” she added as Shandy practically danced into the room, vaulted into the seat she’d previously occupied next to Kurmak and strapped herself in.

This time the senior officer had a moment so he checked she’d gotten it right. “My arm’s still complaining about your weight,” he chided her. She stuck out her tongue at him. “Seriously,” he joked, “not even Felines are supposed to bend like that.”

She slapped him in play. “Want me to do anything, Mr Kurmak?”

“Keep an eye on our rear readings,” he told her. “We’re trying to sneak up on someone. Last thing needed is for someone to sneak up on us.”


Virrik sighed. The pair had woken up and the former Mican was in total shock, looking at his new form and realising he looked like someone wearing a tracksuit with those stripes down the side. He still had a furry trunk but the scales down his side were quietly glistening and his more Osiran muzzle sniffed, his tongue lashing out through a gap in the front teeth, ‘smelled’ the air and zipped back in. His slightly oval eyes looked over at his Osirn mate, who was going through a similar series of reactions. “I think we’ll need to get ussed to this,” he stated, making her grin as he lisped slightly.

“I can iff you can,” she replied, twitching her furred ears suggestively, before pulling him in to test out his new tongue for herself. She released him, letting a little trail of saliva that linked their tongues bow and drip onto the bed between them. “What if we don’t know how to..?”

“You’ll figure it out,” Virrik snapped. “Go explore in your quarters.”

“But… We don’t have any clothes that fit,” Blackpool said, being the one who had been Mican.

“Figure battle’s coming,” Virrik replied. “No-one cares that your starkers. within the automobile off! And don’t eat each other,” she added as the reluctant pair exited the room, passing by Cherry as she entered, the Mican almost damaging her spine as she turned to watch the pair go. “Their anatomy’s fascinating, isn’t it,” Virrik asked, a grin on her face.

“You didn’t tell them you’d given them internal monitoring devices before they woke up, I take it?”

“Didn’t come up,” ‘Vera’ replied as the door shut. “Just a pity the others came around before I thought of monitoring them like this. Techies stuff suit you?”

Cherry gave a little twirl in her purple shirt and tan trousers. “Not bad.”

“Suits you. Get a smock on.”


And the ship rocked again.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I am really enjoying the way that this is all heading! Can't wait for the conclusion which I know will be BIG!

[Welsh Halfwit]

FIFTY-FOUR


The door shuddered and the occupants of the drawing room jumped slightly at the impact and the following three sounds as the person outside knocked the door. They could hear his voice through the enamelled wood as he raised his voice. “If I have to break a classy door like this down, I’ll not be happy,” he said aloud.

“As though he’s going to be happy anyhow,” Muta told the Professor, who simply looked at her with wide eyes as he had nowhere to run anyhow. She called up the internal systems to find out how the engagement between forces was going before pressing a button to unlock the door.

It opened with an audible ‘clunk’ and Chula stepped through, looking out of place in brown trousers and a tight blue t-shirt with an attached field generator on the shoulder. His tense musculature shifted underneath the thin lining as he moved; with the intent of making others in the room feel ill at ease. To intimidate without actually doing anything. He let the door close behind him with another audible ‘clunk’. “I have to break my own rule,” he told the room whilst pointing at the Professor. “I need you alive after all. Possibly. I hear a certain Celican walking Corpse has made a breakthrough or two.” He helped himself to a small drink and sat on the chair next to the Professor. “I’m fancying I can take you, b*tch,” he stated, before raising the glass, sniffing it for toxins and putting the glass down. “Probably better not,” he admitted. “How’s the fight going?”

Muta looked at the screen. “Your distraction force is tied up,” she said evenly, having figured the Rottian would pick up the scent of narcotics in the drink. “It’s just you here right now.”

Chula chuckled politely. “Well, that makes one of us.” He stood up and turned to the Professor. “You can’t get out, Professor. Try and stay out of the way whilst I deal with this pair. I take it Savra’s in the antechamber? My spy told me his loyal loonie was here so that Orange Jackal’s…” He paused as the antechamber’s door opened and the electric whip lashed sparks across the shielding. “You think I didn’t remodulate the frequency after I knew for sure you were involved,” he asked before the sparks cleared and he saw Savra already jumping for him.


Rawton was feeling a few of the creeps punches but he was far more sure they were feeling his blows as his was the hand holding the knife and he was enjoying the feeling of letting off steam. He’d found they were wearing a knifeproof microlayer under their shirts that had neutered several of his blows until he started aiming for the more exposed locations and it was currently pinioned in a Russellians’ arm whilst the Canine, obviously on uppers judging by the way he was trying to kill Rawton whilst he had a knife in his arm, clumped Rawton around the head before dropping to his knees as a shot came into the back of his head from Rawton’s friend. Rawton looked up towards him and ran headlong towards him, freed knife ready as the Canine backed off, turning as he impacted the guard behind him. He twisted back as the guard made to shoot him and his flesh sizzled as the beam cut along his fur and skin from his lower abdomen to his left shoulder. Punching further, through Rawton’s left ear in the seconds before the Lappinean launched himself, feet first, into the chest of the bought soldier, sending him flying back into the wall and making him drop the weapon to the floor. Rawton landed between the two guards and next to the other one the traitor had killed and punched the turncoat in the throats before slamming his head back into the wall, pulling it forward and slamming it back again until he heard something go crunk inside the head and the eyes crossed, indicating the fight, such as it was, was over. He bit the victims’ throat out to be certain and let it drop to the floor, trailing blood down the wall almost as freely as the gore that rolled down his chest.


Rawton swallowed and turned to his ally. “Doesn’t taste of Macurian steak,” he told the pained Canine. “You getting up or just going to lie here and cry?”

“I…” The Canine shuddered and decided not to reply asd he figured Rawton didn’t really care anyhow. Burns probably made him smell tastier or something. He reached a hand up, almost passing out from the pain but fighting through so as to not give Rawton the pleasure. “Medkit,” he gasped instead. “Guard room.”

“Good job they’re all dead, isn’t it,” Rawton replied, putting the one Canine arm over his shoulders so the dog could put his weight on him. “Course, all ours are dead too. Good fight,” Rawton admitted, pretending not to feel his own blood.


“Target their previous damage,” Gallen ordered as the Dewless ship turned to face them. “They’ll be doing the same to us.”

“This time,” Hastur said tightly, “it’s personal.”

“And to the finish,” Merran contributed as she listened in for signs of teleportation.

[Amazee Dayzee]

This was a very intense chapter I have to say. Felt like it was a bit more so than usual if I am being honest. Nice work!

[Harry Johnathan]

The image of Chula fighting Savra in a plain blue tee and khakis is funny to me, lol.

[Welsh Halfwit]

FIFTY-FIVE

The table broke under Chula’s weight as Savra dumped him through it to Mutas chagrin. It had been a solid Nodanwood edifice gifted to her by an aunt twenty years or so ago. Gone now. Just like the table. Chula was putting up a mighty effort, landing several blows on the Captain and, indeed, a few on her. Not that it seemed to be making a lasting mark. Perhaps it was just… It hardly mattered right now, did it? She put a foot to his head but the Rottian twisted, grasped her foot and threw her backwards into a chair and the floor behind as Savra gripped the shirt of the canine and did his best to hurl him into a standing bust. Chula twisted in midair and only his shoulder hit the stand. He shook off the blow and caught the falling bust and threw it straight at Savras’ face as he worked on getting up. The marble figure cracked into Savras’ hand as he warded it away from his face and the Rottian got a good swipe in under Savra’s guard, drawing blood across the Celicans’ abdomen in a not totally shallow wound. Savra, for his part, pulled Chula forward and brought his knee up into his stomach before twisting him around and attempting to put him in a stranglehold. Chula backbutted Savra in the muzzle and chipped one of his front teeth. The grip didn’t slacken but his claws had more effect on Savras’ already wounded arm, pulling ragged chunks from his flesh as Savra gritted his teeth and fought to keep his grip tight. An elbow cracked into Savra’s ribs, forcing him to let go as the air was driven out and both of them fought to get their breath back.


Chula had less time, though, as Muta re-entered the situation with a straight right to the side of his muzzle that split his nose, spitting blood onto the already ruined executive carpeting. He certainly felt it, although the smile on his red stained face might term that a lie. Her second punch was intercepted by his vice grip and he twisted her arm painfully as she tried to counter with a kick to his leg. It scraped his leg fiercely but made no real impression on the situation as she cried out.

Savra reckoned he must be on something. The Rottian wasn’t feeling the pain of the fight in his bones and body. Some of the blows he’d given the Rottian would have laid out an Equinna but they weren’t making an impression today. He drove his fingers into the small of Chulas’ back and felt something give so dug in deeper twisting his fingers as he went to try and open the wound. He recalled it was where Gallen had got him a few years past and gave silent thanks to his first Officer for providing a weak spot. Chula released Muta and spun savagely to land a blow across Savras’ head. The fingers, having ground their way through the flank of the Rottian, cut out of his side and brought a chunk of his fur out with it. Savra spun away, crashing over what remained of the sofa.

Chula jumped across, landing on the fallen Celicans’ back and grinding his boots down onto Savras’ back. Muta took him off her ally with a rugby tackle and carried him into the fireplace, wishing it was still on. He laughed, even as she cracked his head onto the mantelpiece and bodily picked her up so she was upside down and he dropped her to the floor as Savra came in again, a double handed blow to the side of the Rottians’ head dislocating three of his teeth and visibly shaking him.


So much ached in Savra’s body right now. He was almost considering not standing but there was too much to do right now. Like win the fight to the finish by whatever means necessary. He had a plan, this brutal Celican, but it was hard to put into words and harder to put into action when the other side wasn’t going to be any sort of help. But there he was. He put his shoulder to the fight.


Gallen held on as everything shook hard, rattling dust and debris that didn’t exist off the ceiling along with the roof panel that had narrowly missed Merran and Barnabus. He figured they had the upper hand right now but it was the equivalent of having three jacks against three tens when the last cards were still to be revealed He’d heard Shandy shout out that the enemy had their shields down and Hastur responded, punching through the hull with a half dozen shots before their main weapons battery hit back, lashing energy through decks four and five.


Pantha ordered the sealing of the decks to contain the breach even as she heard she had three engineers in those sections. There was no way to save their lives now, she supposed. Systems needed redirecting and rerouting and the computers were doing their best impression of failing as she worked to get things in place. She called out to Pallik and Dilla to get them in the conduits to reroute the power flow and Techrat to monitor from the station here as she had to go down to one of the bypass control stations to see if they were working. She took off with her kit as Techrat raised his arms in triumph, proclaiming himself king of the department.


Pantha ran, feeling the pressure on her natural muscles following the recent overuse and wounding and she was almost out of breath when she got to the station and saw the system was beginning to overload near where she’d sent Dilla and Pallik. She worked fast, knowing she couldn’t call them out as they still needed to do their part there. It was the perils of command, she thought, this need to sacrifice the innocents on occasion. Or risk sacrificing them anyhow. Theirs was the pivotal part, redirecting the flow manually. From here the best she could do was spread things out and slow down the build up. She worked as fast as she could and the pressure build up slowed but still increased, creeping up towards the critical level, one percentage point at a time. She had to trust the pair were working as best they were able and not macking on each other. Right now it was her versus the computer and… the ship, of course. It still had to hold together, didn’t it? The bulkhead door next to her slammed shut as the engineering station detected a vacuum forming. Pantha just hoped it was on the other side of the door to her. She’d consult with TechRat later. Right now… things were approaching critical…


… and never got there. The power relays cut in physically, sending the flow past the damaged sections into areas that could handle it for now. She contacted Pallik and got Dilla. The Quokkan couldn’t hear her but must have seen the indicator on his comm. Her voice was sharp and told her Pallik needed Vera quickly.


Savra gripped Chula by the shoulders and headbutted him. Chula took it in his stride and slammed both hands into Savras’ chest, knocking the Celican away and back to the ground with a tearing of fabric. The Rottian put his head back and laughed.


A laugh that died in his throat when he saw what Savra was holding. A small piece of force field technology that had saved his life many times had been ripped free from his shoulder and the Celican was grinning as he crushed it in hand.


And Muta shot him in the neck from beside her broken table. She staggered and thought about pointing the weapon at Savra.

[Harry Johnathan]

Ding dong Chula's dead.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I was wondering when that was gonna happen. I thought Chula was a nasty piece of work honestly. Goodbye and good riddance.

[Welsh Halfwit]

FIFTY-SIX

Mati sat on his bunk as the room shook and kept his arm around Lanna’s shoulders as she looked at the scan results in her hands. He couldn’t quite believe it himself, if truth were told. He wondered how he would have felt about this just a week ago. Probably repulsed, he thought. He’d been entirely into purity of the line back then and the thought… He shook his head as the ship shuddered once again. Right now he was so proud and stunned that he could hardly breathe straight. The mad Doctor had given the results to her shortly before the fighting had started and shoved her into the room. “What..,” Lann said hesitantly. “What do I do now?” She looked helpless, an ear drooping across her face. “Captain won’t…” The room shuddered again. “Captain won’t want a baby on board, will… will he?”

“You’re right,” Mati said sullenly. “It’d be far too, um, dangerous.” His own ears pricked up as a smile spread across his hybrid face. “There’s always my mansion,” he told her. He leaned over and gently licked her cheek. “You could move in with me?”

She turned slowly to look into his eyes. She didn’t know what she expected, really. After all, it had just been an experiment for him, hadn’t it? But there wasn’t any sign of business in his expression now, just desire and affection that threatened to overwhelm her senses as she thought on how happy she had been to accept the experiment and relieve her condition and she’d come back because she wanted more. More of it. More of HIM. She stroked his cheek with the same affection with which he’d licked hers. “If that’s a mating offer,” she asked, coming in close to his face and forgetting the ship was under fire, “then I accept.” She locked teeth with him in passion as the parents to be put their arms around each other.


“Lost any more,” Virrik asked as she and Cherry worked their way through the latest victims one room from the happy couple.

“No, I haven’t,” Cherry shot back savagely, thinking it sounded rather like an accusation from her senior. The latest she’d ‘meatballed’ had simply broken her foot and it wasn’t anything too serious. She wasn’t going to let the mad Brockian get to her. She was not. It was becoming her mantra. Do the job. Get on with everyone. Defy Vera. Survive. It helped that she was quite good, she reckoned. Perhaps, one day, if she couldn’t have freedom, she could push Virrik out? Well, it was a thought. She pushed on to the next patient. They weren’t slowing down, were they?


Muta sighed and let the weapon up. “I’ve got no interest in killing you right now,” she stated. “Call me a sentimentalist. You’re never going to tell, are you?”

“Is it safe,” the Professor asked, poking his head out from the inner office. He saw the devastation of the office, the bloodied and crushed people and the figure writing on the floor, its’ life blood seeping from the gaping hole where the trachea had once been. “Is that a yes,” he asked.

“Get the medical kit from there,” Muta ordered. “Do your Doctoring duties.”

“I… I’m not actually a Doctor,” the Raitchian confessed. “I’m a surgeon so…” He stopped as she fixed him with a glare. “Right, right. You don’t care.” He waved a hand dismissively. “It’s all semantics anyhow.”


“We have a team incoming,” Kurmak called across the bridge. “Coming in… by the sickbay!”

Gallen thumped the armrest. “Get a team down there! Warn Vera she’s got incoming!”


‘Vera’ almost got the warning before the group started to arrive, unbidden, in her sickbay. Somehow, she grumbled, the enemy always managed to beam a team on board. Usually they went for engineering or fun places like that but this group had come here. They wanted to demoralise the ship. Well, she thought, putting an instrument trolley right where the teleport was coming in. One of them looked down in horror as he materialised through the object and toppled forward in shock, clattering the scalpels that weren’t now part of his thigh to the floor as he succumbed to his injuries. The other three opened fire, one stitching holes in the patient Virrik had just repaired as she took cover behind him and the pillar. Virrik, for her part, fished out one of her throwing knives from a sleeve and, deciding not to throw it at the picture of Savra for once, threw it at her attacker as the others moved on to trying to shoot the walking wounded. Virrik spotted Cherry driving a trolley into the legs of one of them. Brave, stupid, girl, Virrik told herself as the one she was facing took the blade with his arm rather than his face. Where was the other..?


The door opened and the storming of the sick bay was quelled.


“I still have it in me,” Mati said, his hands being the only thing still holding the bloodied Feline up, off the floor. He’d opened the door and come in shooting, almost hitting Lanna. Almost killing… The red mist had descended on him then, a roar of fury and hatred that had almost shaken the feline with the gun where he stood. He’d not been able to get a good aim on Mati, as fast as he’d been going, and the newborn hybrid had conducted a horizontal leap from the wall to take him from the side before using his hands and his teeth to tear at the throat of the… there weren’t words dark enough for him. How DARE he come here. How DARE he..? He looked up at Lanna and dropped the Feline to the ground with a ‘kludd’. Her eyes scared him. “I’m not sure I want it,” he lied, hoping to quell her fears. “Can… can I come close,” he asked.

She looked worried, concerned and the smile in her eyes didn’t quite reach her teeth. “What...whatever ‘it’ is,” she said, “it certainly saved… saved our lives.”

He half hopped forward. “And it’ll never hurt you,” he promised, before realising he had blood across his muzzle. “Do… Do you want me to wash it off?”

“It...it’d still be there really, wouldn’t it?” Lanna asked desperately.

“Probably,” Lumi said disconsolately. “But only in defence.” He got himself to the sink and washed and scrubbed as the ship started to level out in its’ shaking. He turned to her, wet faced and hopeless eyed. “See, Lanna? “ He loped close and knelt at her knee. “I don’t want to frighten you,” he said, taking her hand. “I never want to frighten you but… I can protect you, Lanna. I can. I… I love you.”

She looked down, into the most vulnerable eyes she’d ever seen. She sighed. “It’ll take some getting used to… Love.” Now the smile managed to reach her mouth. “Isn’t that pose supposed to offer a ring?”

Now he laughed. As did she.

[Harry Johnathan]

I guess bloodshed and stress just really give these pirates warm and fuzzy feelings, lol.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Yeah I would definitely say it seems that way.

Though I would just HATE to see what gets them amorous however.

[Welsh Halfwit]

FIFTY-SEVEN

“I’ll do it,” Savra said, pulling his fingers out of Chula’s throat. “It might keep some of the clans off your heads.”

Muta smirked slightly and wished she hadn’t as her gum rumbled across a broken tooth. “I thought you wanted me dead,” she asked. “Or has that changed?”

“Part of me still thinks you’d be better off dead,” Savra informed her, pulling himself fully upright with the aid of the sofa pieces, “but there’s something about killing someone you just fought alongside that…” He grimaced, “isn’t me.” He hobbled his way over to the video system and looked to establish an outside, general, line. After a moment, Muta came over with a huff and did it for him. She stepped back so as to stay out of sight but thumbed to him that he was on. Savra looked into the system. “People of Minas Daltin,” he stated, “warriors of Dewless, Dakrin and Ultimma clans. This is Savra. You know of me. You know my word and my strength. You know the warfare that has erupted these last few days over the events here and the discovery of Chula having faked his own death. It stops. Now. There is no longer any purpose to the killing.” Savra stooped, out of shot but kept on talking. “I have personally dealt with Chula. We have come to an understanding.” He pulled the dead face of his rival up to the camera, showing the hole in his throat recently recut by his claws. “He doesn’t haunt me,” Savra growled, “and I don’t kill his ghost! The champion of Ultimma! The revenge of Dewless! Dead by my hand! If you don’t believe me, ask yourself if I’m known for my deception skills! His knowledge has died with him. There was no other choice and no quarter offered. Withdraw your forces. Reduce the bloodflow so the Security Council doesn’t end the fighting for us. Turn the tide of this war OFF.” Savra broke the corpse’s neck, “or I’ll do it for you.” He stabbed the ‘off’ button.

“Will it work,” the Professor asked from the far corner of the room, where the only undamaged chair remained.

“Possibly,” Savra grunted.

“We’re sending it to the Dewless information hub in the forest,” Muta explained. “The one that really started all this nonsense. That station can relay it across the system.” She leaned on a desk and reacted with dismay as it broke in two. “Centuries old,” she muttered. “Any chance that, when we’re done, you can send that Feline scientist down, Savra,” she asked. “I need some cheering up.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to rise to the challenge,” Savra muttered, finishing the link up to the station.


The ship broke up silently in the viewscreen, splitting across jagged lines and belching out the briefest flickers of atmosphere as the crew watched in stark silence. Even Shandy knew the importance and magnitude of the event. Even she didn’t feel much like cheering as the slow motion death scene played out in front of her. A hundred who’d never return to their home port. A hundred who’d go no further in their attempts to shape the future. A hundred who were no more than dust in the stars. Gallen stood in respect to the dead for a moment before he pulled his attention back to immediate things. “Merran,” he told the comms officer, “I want damage reports from all departments. Barnabus, keep an ear out for anything new coming in. You caught that last spy out. Your ears are good. Kurmak…”

“Damage analysis,” the Feline enquired cheekily.

“No, scan the debris. Don’t want anything nasty coming our way.”

“What about life pods,” Hastur asked, clearly implying that she could see a few.

“We’re in no condition to take prisoners right now,” Gallen told her. “Just…” he made his mind up, changed it and reassessed. “Keep an eye on any for now.” He straightened up as Pantha entered the room, having gotten herself teleported from where she was to avoid suffocation. “How come you’re here,” he asked, mentally chiding himself as he said it.

“It seemed better than suffocating in space,” Pantha replied, standing near her son so she could ruffle his headfur and he could smack her leg happily. “Ow,” she mock complained, “assaulting a senior officer?”

“No supper for him tonight,” Gallen chipped in, trying to sound more jovial than he felt as Pantha got in contact with Engineering to relay some control to the bridge station.


Dilla sat in the sickbay with a rather spark out Pallik across her lap as others with more serious injuries took their turn being saved by the medical staff. The Quokkan wasn’t quite sure the room was sterile any more, what with the corpses on the floor, but it was pretty much the best she could hope for right now. The Brockian had shone a light in his eyes and said he’d probably be alright despite the facial burns that she could use a healing gel on but she wasn’t quite sure she believed her. There was something about the tone that said the Doctor was irritated it wasn’t a more interesting wound… Was that a scalpel in one attackers eye? She stroked Pallik’s face as he stirred and encouraged him not to moan as the Brockian had snapped that it irritated her. The Mican seemed much nicer but far less at ease in the surroundings. Dilla wasn’t sure who she wanted to treat her boyfriend.


“The first of them’s calling,” Muta told the group as they waited. Rawton and his new friend had joined them and Janus was on his way up from the servants’ hideyhole with the staff.

The young Celican looked over to the Lappinean with his mad grin and spattered face. “Been in the wars,” he asked with humour.

“Yeh,” Rawton smirked back, checking his own wounds out. “Found a brother from another mother too,” he added, elbowing the Canine.

“Mom will be thrilled,” the friend replied.

“Shut it,” Savra ordered. “Which one’s calling?”

“Like I know?”


She put the call through and Savra recognised the logo of the Dewless clan, a claw, running through the grass like a scythe. “Patterkin,” he stated simply.

<”Savra,”> the Raitchian stated. <”You’ve caused a lot of trouble...>”

“I unearthed a lot of trouble,” Savra countered. “It was a Dewless operation.”

<”Like that can be proven. A rogue element was responsible. Under the influence of Chula, a group commanded by Captain Jalvey – who tragically died today – decided to split from the Clan and undertake this heinous attempt to undermine the Dakrin and Ultimma clans and drag us all...”>

“You need to practice your lying more,” Savra cut in. “It must have gotten rusty, being away from Raitche for so long. I have two ten year old Raitchians on board my ship who wouldn’t be fooled by that load of *****,” Savra snapped.

<”Doesn’t matter if it’s hogwash or even drivel,”> the face told him. <”It’s the official line. Everything else is just negotiation.”> The line cut out.

The room fell silent. For a moment. “Are we… out of this,” Janus asked.

[Harry Johnathan]

Savra's little speech here reminds me of the "I am the law" scene from Dredd 2012.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Savra may be a really bad guy but I like him a lot! Then again I do have a thing for roguish pirates I must admit.

[Welsh Halfwit]

ANd the final part.

Will resume writing stories at a time when I have more, uh, time...

FIFTY-EIGHT

Savra sat behind Muta’s desk as the call from Clan command came through and he found himself looking at one of the seniors, known as Beta Command. A Wolven of thickset proportions and near legendary age who spoke with all the compassion of a chainsaw biting through concrete. <”Captain Savra,”> he intoned, trying to fix his captain with a stare from untold billions of miles away. <”Would you care to explain why our list of wounded Captains currently includes a hybrid hermaphrodite who’s bouncing off the walls?”>

“It settled two matters in one go,” Savra replied, defying the Wolven by not submitting to his imperial gaze. “Punishment for one of the stupidest acts I have EVER seen one of our Captains commit and absolute proof that the gel works.”

<”It was not your place to...”>

“It was absolutely my place,” Savra interrupted. “It was the decision of the clan council that I get this gel – or, at least, most of it – into U.S.C. hands and, when I got to a ship I knew I could trust, a ship that’s actually registered as under our clan’s protection, I find those two imbeciles shooting at it!”

<”It’s still stepping on a line, Captain!”>

“I can’t walk without stepping on lines. How are things out there now?”

The Wolven squirmed in his chair. <”Quieting down with the death of Chula,”> he advised, referring to the corpse he couldn’t see on the carpet that was beginning to smell. <”We’ve had several losses and so have Daklia, Dewless and Ultimma. The Commands will have to have a sit down about this. And probably fight over things. You’re not invited.”>

“For which I’m thankful. I’ll have the gel with you by the end of the week. And the cut of the legal drug proceeds too. I’m dealing with a distributor now.”

The Wolven snorted. <”It probably wasn’t worth it.”> The line cut off without warning as Mati stepped into the room.

“Am I a distributor now, then,” he asked, keeping his distance.

“Might as well be,” Savra snorted. “Not like you’re much good for anything else.”

“Well, I’m the one in control of local plans,” the new Hybrid postulated. “Muta’s everything else in the system. She’s the face.” He cocked his head to the side and the ears flopped. “Probably just as well right now, eh?” His eyes glistened with humour and Savra found himself grinning tightly.

“Yeah. Your face doesn’t fit right now.” He exhaled noisily. “How are you planning to tell your father?”

“Carefully,” he replied, fighting not to crouch instinctively. “With Muta there. Over video-link.”

“Especially when you tell him about Loretta,” Savra asked innocently.

Mati’s face fell. “You know..?”

“I’m the Captain,” Savra interrupted. “I know most things that go on aboard my ship.” His eyes narrowed. “I ended your life once,” he intoned. “If anything happens to her, I’ll do it again. Permanently this time.” He pointed at the creature. “You still owe me for the death of my mother,” he threatened, watching the creature’s face fall as he finally said it out loud. “You will pay that debt by treating Loretta well and your child like a prince or princess.”

“You…” Mati swallowed. “You don’t need to threaten to get me to promise that,” he replied as Rawton bounded in and landed close to the gangster.

The Lappinean sniffed Mati and looked quizzically at Savra. “You threatening my son, boss,” he asked, a lopsided grin growing on his face.


Pallik tried to remember why his face hurt. He’d been helping Dilla in the relay room and… He couldn’t quite remember… Had something blown or something? He was… why was he in bed? Was it night time? There was a voice talking to him. He opened his eye to see Dilla’s smiling face. “I got you out of there after the display blew in your face,” she said, reaching over to stroke his cheek. He remembered the glass, rushing towards him in that last second and wondered why he wasn’t flinching at the feel of glass shards. Then again, why wasn’t HE feeling them? He put a fand to his face. “Vera used some of that gel stuff. With no extra DNA added,” she affixed quickly. She kissed his nose gently. “Healed you up quick, it did.”

He shifted over and kissed her back. “Danger over,” he asked. “Ship in one piece?”

She shrugged, the movement creasing the covers slightly. “Mostly. But we’re out of the woods. And I remembered what I’d said this morning.”

Pallik put a hand under the covers and felt the edge of Dilla’s pouch to confirm his hypothesis and make her grin bigger. “You undressed me,” he asked.

“Seemed only fair,” she replied. “After all, I was undressed too.” She laughed as he pushed her down and lay atop her. “You sure you’re strong enough,” she asked carefully. “You’ve just been unconscious, after all…”

“I feel brilliant,” he replied, leaning in to kiss her as she put her hands on his back.


Cherry sat on her bunk, crying lightly to herself as she thought on the hardships of the last few days. She’d never felt so physically and spiritually exhausted and all she wanted to do now was not die a painful death. She lay back and groaned as her door chirped. “Go ‘way,” she called. It chirped again. In a bit of a mood, she stomped over to the door and opened it. “I said…”

“I heard,” Janus said, slipping into the room around her side. “but I also figured you might like to vent.” He placed a bottle of Mican Brandy on her small table and a glass either side of it before he sat on her spare chair. “At least get some of it out.” He sighed in a slightly theatrical way. “Bottling it up does no good, believe me.”

Cherry thought about telling him to sling his hook in fifteen different ways that would get her banned from most libraries but held herself in. It was too early for sleep and he might be right. “I’m not sleeping with you,” she told him.

He looked scandalised. “I’m not..!” He eaised his arms. “Would I..?”

A small smile broke her downcast face. “In a heartbeat, from what I’ve heard!”

Janus looked glum, putting his hands on his legs. “You hear that from Hastur,” he asked, “or Vera?”

Cherry sat on her bed and poured two glasses of Brandy. “Both,” she told him. “And the Captain. And Shandy.”

NOW Janus looked aghast. “I have never slept with any of them,” he laughed. “They won’t let me. And two aren’t my type.”

Cherry raised her glass and he clinked his against it. “I’m glad to hear that,” she told him, before one shotting the brandy. “Micanna Uni drinking Champion,” she admitted, before sneezing. “Few years back.”

Januds smirked to himself. This Mican could be fun.


Barnabus opened his eyes and looked at Shandy as she slept alongside him in his bed. He took in her scent, which was becoming as familiar as his own and smiled silently as he put his hand to her side, atop the “Trouble and I know it,” night shirt she was wearing that reached down to her knees. She’d approved of his just wearing shorts so she could hug his muscles a bit before sleep. He stroked the side of her head and kissed her gently before trying to rejoin her in slumberworld.


“You’re really making me pay full rate for the chemical,” Muta complained, looking over the contract as written.

“You’ll still make five times it on the market,” Savra reminded her. “And I need to fund repairs on my ship. I have sources but they don’t work for credit.”

“In the asteroid,” Muta asked with a wry smirk. “My brothers’ ears are even better than they used to be. He heard talk.”

“Which he needs to keep to himself.”

She passed the contract back over after making an alteration. “Ten percent off gets that guarantee.” Savra grunted and signed his agreement.

“You got the better part of the deal,” he ventured. “I mean, you get more control, you get a big profit and I notice your wounds have healed up a lot faster than mine.”

“Suppose that’s a good reason not to shoot you,” she said, pressing a button on a remote. Outside, a Canine cried out and, after a moment, her latest ‘servant’ from the safe house entered the room with tears in his eyes and ill-fitting dungarees on. “Go see the household head. Tell him there’s two Bludjoos’es needed. You have five minutes.”

“Thought you were going to interrogate that?”

“Pleasure before work. Break his will to mine first, he’ll be so much more… malleable after. Payment through pleasure as a reward.”

“What if he’s not into that?”

“That’s just another part of his will I’ll need to break.”


Three hours afterwards, Savra hid in the antechamber as the Wolven senior arrived to check out his renewed son and new daughter-in-law-in-waiting. He kept a hand on his electro whip as the old Wolf entered and raged. One wrong move and he’d step in to kill the old ****er. One move on the Rabbit and he’d… The buzzard licked her cheek and welcomed her to the family before sending her and Muta out and challenging Mati on several incidents when he was enforcing the old guys will. He ground his teeth as he heard the pain in Mati’s tone as he related what he’d done and to whom. His hand shuddered tightly when he worked out who they were talking about in one instance and it was only the tears in Mati’s tone that kept his hand from ripping the door open and taking them both on. The younger was living a life worse than death right now. It was good. He watched until the old thing left. Then he stepped away without saying a word.


“Intercept that car,” Savra told Janus as he got into the shuttle.


Three minutes later, the shuttle landed in front of the car and Savra and Rawton got out as Janus took aim. The Wolf occupants of the car got out in a similar fashion, one of the bodyguards covering Savra. “I didn’t think to see you again,” the crackled voice said. “I take it I have you to thank for my son’s deformities and aberrant tastes?”

Savra put a hand on Rawton’s collar, holding him in place. “The taking of them was intentional,” Savra told his opponent. “Because of things you did and things you ordered. This is a simple statement. For her to survive, he has to survive. If I ever hear you’ve done anything to him, I’ll kill you, your wife and that daughter you think no-one knows about. Her whole family too.”

“You think you can threaten me..? You think..?”

“No,” Savra admitted. “You’re bound by honour to protect your family. I just wanted to state what happens if you forget.” Savra stepped back onto the shuttle, pulling Rawton in behind him.


An hour later, with repairs underway, the Kerbal left orbit.

[Amazee Dayzee]

This was definitely a really cool story! The world that you created for your characters is so fun Welshy!

[Harry Johnathan]

That was good.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Part of me wants to know what would happen if Hawle and Savra met now. Besides Hawle getting covered in something obviously.