RODOMONT 3

[Welsh Halfwit]

Greedan, the hybrid created by the gel fusing DNA's, is still fitting in...

One.


Greedan sighed as he swung his feet to the floor and felt the jolt as the heels hit the ground. He still wasn’t used to these new legs. This new body. This new work schedule. The whole thing was new to him as he attached the heart monitor to make sure everything was normal still. Well, as normal as he got anyhow. It was one of the changes he still needed to get used to. He was quite used to his multicoloured look now, white and Orange with hints of black. The furred tail. The change in appetite... He looked down at the still sleeping Mican female and smiled as he thought of the changes to his other appetites. He tried to think back but the girlfriend he’d once had was fading from his memory now, along with most of the members of his family who must be considering him dead. A few months ago that would have bothered him but, now..? He leaned over the sleeping Mican and, with a hand to one of her sides, gently licked her neck. She shifted happily as he sniffed her scent, released by the intimate contact, and pulled the sheets over her frame so he could head into the sonic shower.


It buzzed and set his new teeth on edge, the Canines and the incisors vibrating against each other as the pulses shifted the dust and dirt of the previous day – and, heh, night – free to let the fur shine in a way it never had before the change. He still needed help with the tail, of course. You don’t change a lifetime of not needing to brush in a few months, although he’d tried. His friend come captor - or was it the other way around – Hadrian Jak had helped him with it a couple of times but stressed he’d need to do it himself and had shown him some vids of Kits doing it to show him how. He wrapped it around his midriff now and attacked it with the brush after grabbing the end. Still hurt. Not quite as much as getting fur trapped in the tail hole fastener though. He dressed in the bathroom, feeding the tail through the hole in his underwear and realising why he should really be brushing it AFTER dressing as it was rubbed up the wrong way and needed brushing down again once he’d got his trousers on. He looked himself in the mirror and smiled as he admired his mucles. He couldn’t remember having any before but, now, there was definite tone under the mottled fur. He put claw-tips to the biceps as though to make sure they were real. Satisfied, he pulled his new shirt on and donned the jacket. It still seemed too large.


He stepped back into his room and gently turned his conquest over, chastising himself for thinking of her like that. She opened her eyes blearily before he kissed her, an action she happily reciprocated, licking his tongue with hers until he carefully pulled back. “I have to go on shift,” he told her. “See you later, Doris?”

She stretched and he saw enough of her upper body to make him want to get back into bed and engage with her again but he had duties. “I’ll let myself out,” she purred. He wondered if she’d feel this way if she knew about his past.

“Dinner tonight,” he asked.

“So long as it’s not me,” she replied. She’d had to assure him it was a joke the first time as he’d been horrified that she’d suggested it and even more horrified by the fact he’d even considered it, although the Doctor – the Wolf one – had told him it was entirely normal for his situation. But now he knew she was joking.

He’d gotten used to Celican meat squirtballs now. They were enough to sate the need and he’d stopped throwing them back up now.

The comm had sounded the wake up in his ear to remind him he had an early morning shift in the sciences department and an even earlier appointment with Doctor Flakk before that. Which was never fun. The Doctors here knew his past. And Flakk never failed to keep that in mind.


“Sit your hybrid backside down before I make you, Greedan,” Flakk snapped, almost as soon as the door to his consulting room had closed. “I have a few tests to run and I don’t want you running away from me.”

Greedan sat in the demanded chair and let the Doctor attach sensors and arm probes to him. “My heart’s still beating at 120 a minute,” he reported. “Still seems stable.”

“Well, I’m taking your opinion into account but I don’t set much store by the medical opinion of a criminal lab assistant,” Flakk replied, denigrating Greedan’s unverifiable scientific heritage. He’d asked why the Wolf didn’t like him once. Never again. He was sure the Doctor was a bit TOO enthusiastic with the little hammer too. “I hear you’re taking cardiac sessions with Ensign Keswick,” Flakk queried in the way that stated it wasn’t a query.

“Well, yes, I…”

“You ARE wearing protection, right,” Flakk demanded as he whacked the knee to see it jerk. The Doctor’s spectacled eyes cut through to his brain and soul in Greedans’ imagination, making everything clench. “Yes,” he reminded the Doctor, “I know I’m still fully fertile.”

“But does she?”

“Yes,” Greedan pointed out, getting annoyed. “I’m not so stupid I’m likely to risk that, am I? Until recently it’s not something that I’d even considered and I’m not willing to risk what little freedom I have now by doing something that stupid!”

“You think getting mated would be stupid?”

“I think an unplanned one would be,” Greedan snarled.

“Good,” Flakk replied, standing up. “That got your hackles up. Your pulse increased but then endorphines were released to calm them a little. As it should be. Any Vulpine traits showing up?”

“I licked her this morning,” Greedan told him. “Seemed natural.”

“It is, It’s as natural as you aren’t, Mouse-Fox. It’s affection showing. Now, have you remembered anything about that gel you helped create?”

“Nothing much more than don’t mix the sexes.”

Flakk looked up at him. “It creates a hermaphrodite, doesn’t it?” He slapped his hand on the table. “I KNEW it.” He passed across a picture of something that might have been feline once. Or Raitchian. Could have been either. “A captured Pirate. Considered too mad to be used for reclaim.” He showed other pictures. “Male AND female reproductive systems. On file as a male called Warrus. Recently made history by being the first to give birth in a Male prison on Hyrakar. I’ll have the records sent over to you.”

“Why weren’t they in a female’s prison?”

“Still identifies as male. That’s enough for Osiran law.”


Greedan was wondering about it when the alert siren went off.

[Amazee Dayzee]

This is a very interesting beginning to the story! Depending on how it works out for Greedan maybe Hawle and Elena will create a child like that.

[Welsh Halfwit]

This is a very interesting beginning to the story! Depending on how it works out for Greedan maybe Hawle and Elena will create a child like that.

If you recall, he's the Mican who was working for the people making the gel when he had his foot blown off by an explosion in the lab and Celican DNA and the gel got in the wound. He has a new foot and he's 50% Celican now... Also has a spotty memory due to the trauma.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Why Welshy! You know I would not be able to remember that from your previous story! There is no way I could do that! I only retain information from your current stories unless they have Hawle in them as a lead and then its a month. Sad but true. I'm dumb.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Two


Harras the Equinna, chief engineer of the Rodomont, looked to the ceiling as the alert sounded. He attended to his station and checked to make sure it wasn’t a false alarm that the maintenance crews could turn off in two minutes flat. No, apparently, it had come from the communications station on the bridge. Real, then. He turned to the team in engineering. “OK. Looks like there’s something coming. Don’t know what. To the stations, now. Move.” He turned his comm on. “Levan,” he stated, waiting for the Chipmunk’s reply that came from behind him as the tiny deputy screeched to a halt.

“Yes, sir,” she asked.

“It’s real,” he replied. “You’re on the conduits.”

She saluted theatrically. “My favourite,” she replied as the comm disconnected, figuring no-one was going to answer. “Am I with anyone?”

“Peewit and Kohlich. They’ll meet you at K14.”

“Rightho,” she said speedily before dashing off in a display of her natural speed.


“Turn that bloody thing off,” Postain demanded as he strode, at speed, onto the bridge. “The last thing I want waking me at oh six ten is the awooga waltz,” he snapped as the sound vanished and Commander Xarra stood from the Captain’s chair. “Report,” he told the Mican. “And it better be good.”

“It’s not great,” his first officer told him as the ship turned away from Paxim IX, where the ship had been running checks on the surface of the small Ice planet to see if it was safe to mine the ice for use elsewhere. “Got an alert from the freighter Euprania. She’s being chased by Farridia clan ships…”

“Users of phased energy weapons,” Postain grumbled. “From some experimental department. Appleby’s supposed to be chasing that down.” He took up his emptied seat. “And, given the recent communique about pirates I can’t rip your head off for the alert Maldak,” he told the Quokkan on communications. “Next time let Xarra talk to me before sounding it,” he continued with exaggerated politeness. “When I’m on the ship, of course.”

“Of course,” the Quokkan said, going back to her work.

“Time on target, Makilla,” Postain demanded of the Shrewvian on the helm.

“One hour at best speed, sir,”

“Best hope they can hold on, then,” Postain mused


Flakk cursed as Kelly Cobalt entered the medical bay, using a crutch to keep herself upright as her pregnancy was definitely showing now, four months in. He noted the added gloss in her fur, of course. “You,” he stormed, “are on admin only, Kelly! Your replacement arrives next week, even if you’re not getting off the ship!” He pointed to his office with the chair and computer. “In there, now!”

She smiled at her mentor, showing her frontal incisors. “At least I’ll save them from your records, sir.”

“Yeah,” Flakk grumbled, before bestowing a kiss on her forehead whilst no-one saw, “love you too, Cobalt.”

“I’ll not tell Tarva that bit,” she replied, levering herself down into the chair as orderlies prepared the room for use. She knew the other medical bay, where Martin Jul was working, would be doing likewise. “Who...wh’d you choose in the end?”

“Marla Deville. The Canine. Third in her class. Needs a short term appointment. Six months max. Gives you the time, Kelly.”


Greedan checked in with the science department chief and she blithely told him to get to work. A yellow alert wasn’t a battle alert. So he slid in next to Darren Levan and recommenced the analysing of the recorded samples from yesterday. He still couldn’t believe his best friend had taken on board the things he’d done and was still his best friend. He’d felt he’d had to tell him, despite the advice from Hadrian so they’d spent a night with some light fermented bludjooce and he’d laid it all out for him. About the gel and his working with it and getting his foot blown off and this one being a regrowth… He’s wiggled it in the air, he recalled. Darren had gone quiet. He’d put a look on his face and Greedan had left, thinking he’d lost him. The next morning, he’d opened his door to find the gentle Celican standing there and hugging him without warning, telling him that his Human mother would clip his tail if he didn’t understand mistakes and those who were making up for them. He’d been surprised by how much he’d needed that from Darren and how tightly he’d hugged back. Darren had said it explained the ankle tag, at least. Two months on and they’d not brought it up again. How’d the game go last night,” he asked.

“I can not beat Kerri at Raquetball,” Darren lamented. “she can even run halfway up the wall with her agility.”

“Yeah, she’s fast,” Greedan agreed, recalibrating the readings. “We still on for the meal tonight?”

“You still bringing Doris,” Darren asked. “Heard you had a second date last night.”

Greedan sighed. “She’s a delight,” he enthused. “Not the sort I ever thought I’d end up with in my life, y’know? Gentle, smart, willing…”

Darren sputtered on his drink at the last and Greedan laughed. Still forget your sensibilities, Darren!” He handed Darren a square of paper to dab it up with.


“The Farridia clan have supplies of advanced technology,” Senny Appleby finished telling her pilots, the Castoran standing at the head of the room. “The weaponry of some of their ships operates out of phase with the shields. Means that your fields will only block about ninety percent of the incoming fire so you will take physical damage to the ship if you’re stupid enough to get hit. So don’t get hit. The deck chief won’t appreciate it. Thirty minutes to launch.” She strode back to her office where no-one had noted IOC agent aboard Harmony Appleby slip in a few minutes back. “What’d you think,” she asked.

“Inspirational as always,” the Erminean telepath said, putting her arms around her mates shoulders and giving her her now traditional kiss before battle.


“Well, that’s interesting,” Greedan said. “There’s platinum in that there planet...”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Love this so much as it is really coming along great! I will be looking forward to what happens next!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Three


Lieutenant Commander Tarbeck, the rotational officer currently stationed as temporary second officer to the Rodomont got himself to the bridge when requested by Postain and grimaced. He’d only been assigned the rank a week back, as part of a command path experience scheme and he’d not been briefed on where he should be during an alert. The Celican held himself proud, prouder than the uncertain grimace on his face as he reported in. Postain grunted to the 2nd Officer’s seat. “Not your fault,” he told the Command fast tracker, “I hadn’t thought we’d have an alert so hadn’t thought to remind you to report here.” Tarbeck began to relax before Postain added ‘because I thought you’d know’ to his comment. That was a ding against him, he was sure. It was a new project from Council Command to speed up the progression of Command Officers due to expansion possibilities, inter species competition and aggression and any sorts of other crisis. More ships were being built than ever before with the focus being on fast attack clippers and Frigates with the recent upgrades to weaponry. More ships needed more commanding officers with experience so lieutenants and even ensigns were given the roles as a testing ground for promotion. Apparently the Captain was not a fan and the first thing he’d told him was that he’d tried to get the Lower decker assigned to the ‘mad rabbit’ – whoever that was – but his 2nd Officer had to stay there. So the teleport operative had been given his chance. He’d had him leading one of the science teams for the last week. He saw the Captain was looking at him. He didn’t know wh… oh!

“What’s the situation, sir?”

Postain sat back. “Wondered if you’d ask. Two years in the University, the last six months in Command college. One thing they so often fail to get through to you there, Commander. Knowledge is your first weapon.” Postain swiped the information across from his screen to Tarbeck’s as he checked for time.

“Fifteen minutes at current speed,” Makilla replied, her long nose twitching at the screen. “The attack’s still going on, by the way.”

“Strange,” Postain mused, rubbing his chin, “they must know we’re here by now. They’re normally running by now.”

“Perhaps…” Tarbeck interjected hesitantly, “perhaps there’s something really… uh… important on that freighter that they need?”

Postain gave him a lesser scale glare. “An obvious conclusion,” he grumbled before Xarra pushed his leg with her foot. “But a valid one,” he added drily. “Good thought.”

“The question is,” Xarra continued, looking to the Celican, “what do you think we should do now, Tarbeck?”

“I, er…” He thought on it for a moment.

“Times ticking, acting Commander,” Postain reminded him.

“Uh..,” he paused and swallowed to get his confidence. “Battle stations?”

“Explain your thinking,” Postain commanded, irritated by having to babysit but being determined to teach. He had time to correct any errors.

“We...we’re about to enter a free fire zone and engage in combat so we need… to get the civilians to the safe zones and ready weapons which…” he said, more confidently, “are best done under battle stations conditions?”

Postain slapped his arm rest. “Absolutely right. And it engages the shields.”

“Maldak” Xarra ordered, “sound ‘battle stations’!”

“You take the science station,” Postain ordered before growling. “Find out what that freighter’s carrying.”

“Aye,” Tarbeck said, moving to the vacant station.

Xarra and Postain exchanged a glance.


“There’s the signal,” Darren remarked as the klaxon sounded for a second time in an hour. He locked his workscreen and spun his chair around as Greedan looked at the details on the padd that Flakk had sent him on the new hybrid hermaphrodite. He almost didn’t hear Darren as he looked at the mess that had been made that he was responsible for.”Come on,” Darren said, taking his arm and helping him up.

“Sorry,” Greedan remarked. “There’s something about the work done on his..her… this person’s muzzle,” he replied, following along, padd in hand, as Darren led him to the nearest safe zone. They were the first ones in so had the best seats. “Something I’ve wondered,” Greedan asked as the others began to arrive. “We always return to normal space thousands of kilometres away, giving the bad guys time to run. Why don’t we, y’know..?”

“Come out right in the middle of things?” Darren sighed. “We don’t appear out of nothing and we don’t appear into nothing. Space seems empty but it’s full of things. When we slam back into normal space we displace what’s there around us in all directions. It sends out shockwaves. Not massive ones but enough to do damage to a ship if we come in too close.”

“Plus we can’t launch fighters with the shields up,” Enzo Carvalho chipped in, leading his class in with his girlfriend.

“Heya, Enzo,” Darren greeted happily. “How’ve you been?”


Yarkin assigned her security to the usual spot and had directed Hadrian Jul to cover engineering so the Cervidian had laid his team out across the bay, with himself covering the main entrance with Kilditz (still a name he didn’t think befitted a Mican security officer) and Jeen. They weren’t near the hull but shield generators were and they could be damaged by these weapons they had. Then teams could be beamed in.

Postain brought the situation up on visual. The sleek, pockmarked, freighter was still figting to get to them, the engines sputtering and flaminging almost as much as their low powered weaponry that was trying, ineffectually, to fend off the two clipper style pirate vessels flanking her and blasting the shields. He put his fingers in front of his face and thought. “They should have finished this a long time back,” he mused. “By the time we got here, we should be finding a crippled ship and no pirates visible. I think it’s a trap,” he told Xarra.

“So what do we do?”

“We fall into it,” he replied. “What else can we do?”

[Welsh Halfwit]

Now, what's going on here..?

Four


The ship came back into normal space some distance from the assault on the freighter. The two pirates had done what they could to up their firepower and the freighter was nearly out of time, its hull breached in half a dozen places and sparking and glitching. The engines were barely there any more, thrusters keeping her going against the assault. The defence weapons had finally given up the ghost and died, leaving the top mounted turret stuck in location as the Rodomont came in. “Time’s up you pirates,” Postain growled to a bridge that wasn’t disagreeing with him.

“Launch fighters,” Xarra asked.

He held a hand out to her. “Hold on that. Maldak, put me through to Senny Appleby.” He waited until the Quokkan replied Flight Commander Appleby was available.” “Flight Commander,” he announced, “I want you to launch after the combat’s begun. Your fighters might not survive being hit by these weapons so I want them focussed on us before you go, understand?”

<“Understood, Captain.”> The Castoran replied, before he cut the line.

Postain allowed the seat restraints to activate. “Tarbeck,” he demanded, “you getting anything from that freighter’s listings yet?”

The Celican looked up from the readout. “Coming in now, sir,” he remarked. “Operating out of Pineas, she’s carrying hardware from Lappinia VI to Pandera. Listed as stembolts, self sealing. Fifty tonnes. Luridium metal plates, thirty tonnes. Carbidum crystals, two hundred tonnes… Ten tonnes of Kardika seven control…”

“Kardika seven control chips,” Xarra interrupted, having guessed where he was going. “Used in the control systems of fusion bombs and weaponry. Stabilizes the power flow more effectively than any other chip. It’s why they’re regulated.”

Postain ground his teeth together. “It’s also why they’re not supposed to appear on any cargo manifests!” He gripped the armrest tightly, his claws cutting in to the padding. “Another freighter manifest sold. I will have blood for this. Makilla, attack pattern Postain K-14.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” she replied, tapping controls.

“We’re not going to hail them,” Xarra asked. "Offer them surrender?"

“No. I have a sore throat.”

“Thought I heard it rasping,” Xarra bluffed. “Red alert,” she finished, activating the system herself to charge the shields and weapons.


The clippers broke their attack as the predator loomed towards them, the secondary cannons firing to avoid doing any extra damage to the freighter. Towards the back of the ship, the ‘launch’ lights came on and Senny led the procession from the ‘barn’, the shields having been lowered by the deck chief in the control centre, the bay being depressurised until he restored the shield and put air back into the bay, security on watch alongside him in case the enemy tried something smart. Like beaming into the bay in the time just before the shields went up. Not this time, it seemed. The ship rocked as something hit the hull.


Kerri Levan led her little team to the section they were going to be in command of and opened the hatch. Peewit, a Mican almost as small as her, poked his nose into the conduit and sniffed. “Doesn’t seem like there’s anything dangerous in there yet,” he ventured,

“That’scozwe’re stillout here,” Kerri laughed, making sure the two of them were linked up to the control Tarva Kohlich was holding.

The Jestavanian refugee spoke. “So I’m just to direct you two,” he asked.

“Everyexpedition needsagood basecamp,” Kerri assured him.

“And you’ll be dealing with anything out here,” Peewit added, climbing into the hatch and pulling his pack in.

“Sono slackingoff for biscuits,” Kerri goaded.

“I did that once,” Kohlich protested, “after a seven hour shift and little sleep.”

“Oh, the strainsof relationships,” Kerri cheeked, hauling herself in now Peewit had made room. She removed a catering pack of small biscuits and left them for him. He had to laugh.


The fighters turned as the Rodomont engaged the clippers and Senny gave her orders. The pirates had launched their own fighters and Delta wing was to look after the freighter whilst Alpha and Broadswordattacked, Alpha taking one ship and her fighters and the other taking the other. They’d asked why she’d broken the naming protocol and she’d pointed out that no-one feared a flight named after a cheer of congratulations. Broadsword spoke of danger. They’d decided it didn’t really matter and the leader of that flight now had a claymore sword detailed on his fuselage. They swung, pendulum-like, around the incoming anti-fighter fire, unsure if these were equipped with the same anti-shield tech as their main weaponry was using on the Rodomont. And then there was the close contact fighters.


Senny saw them first. Monta XIII Catlera fighters. Twenty years old but still efficient. Still dangerous. Especially if they’d upgraded tech as pirates often did. She certainly had in her time. She wondered if she knew any of these guys? Didn’t matter. She’d check later. She corkscrewed away from an incoming fighter, opening him for Alpha two to engage with bolts of energy that blazed white for several seconds before Alpha 2 turned and strove to get on the tail of its prey as Senny kept another of the enemy off two’s tail.


Postain made another order in combat, bringing the Rodomont to bear on the starboard ship as they got between the assailants and the freighter as Tarbeck reported damage to the hull in sections as well as the shields being down twenty percent. “Fair enough,” he replied bitterly, “we’ll repair after this is done. In the meantime,” he replied, taking over the firing control from the operations officer and aiming, “Stitch this.” He pressed the firing stud and bolts of energy lashed out at the smaller ship to overload her shields and allow whichever group of fighters that was to attack the hull directly for however long it took them to get the barriers back up.


“Got something coming in,” Xarra advised as a larger ship came into normal space. “A Raicarra Lysetta class cruiser,” she added.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Both of these chapters have come out very good! Sorry about not reading the third one earlier as I got busy with my life and didn't have time.

[Welsh Halfwit]

The events Xarra reminisces about here refer to the story 'Warpatch' that I wrote over a decade back. More than 110 chapters to that one. It was the last story to feature the first lead character, Captain/Admiral Mark Reynolds, the first Human to reach the rank and involved every character I had at the time, killing several.

Five

In the safe zone, Enzo Carvalho watched the screen with his girlfriend Ella as the fight outside proceeded. They could see via one of the camera bots that a new ship had arrived and Ella sucked in a breath as the ship showed itself. “One of ours,” she said in a hushed whisper that only carried to the closest dozen around her.

“The ship might be ours,” Enzo corrected, not letting his gaze drift from the screen, although he was sorely tempted by the hand on his shoulder. “Doesn’t mean the people inside are. How’s Willa?”

Ella looked over to the lithe feline on the other communication station. “Still reading a message for Kelvan if the worst comes,” she said, referring to her boyfriend on the freighter. “It’s not going to come is it,” she asked, playing at being worried.

“I don’t think so,” Enzo confided. “Even with this new weapon they have, the armour on this old thing’s too tough.” Then his ears flicked as he reasoned that wasn’t supposed to be the response she wanted. He turned the chair around so she could sit on his lap and hug him tight. He enjoyed it. And her warmth. And her smell. Perhaps, he thought as the ship resounded again, he should concentrate on the things he could hold right now?



In the rear medical bay, Doctor Martin Jul and his nurse were feeling the pressure. A little bit literally. He wasn’t next to the hull down here but he was only a few doors down from the rear launch bays and they were on the outside of the hull. He had three in his bay right now who’d been close by a bulkhead – against the deck chief’s advice – when shots had chipped through the hull. Shrapnel damage had clipped the throat of a Canine as three inches of the inner hull had ruptured. Other pieces had gone through the left leg of an equinna and the hand of a Feline. The medical technician was dealing with the other two on a triage basis but the Mican and his Celican assistant were working on the Canine as there was a nick on the carotid he needed to seal. The nurse was keeping the Dog calm as Martin operated with only a general anaesthetic in use. He was panicked, of course and Jul was going as fast as he could to stop the fluids dribbling out over his gloved hands. “Almost… got it,” he said into his mask as his device sealed up the hole in the artery. “Soon be done,” he told the patient as he began the patching work. The room rocked and Jul felt the temperature drop a degree. “Possibly not soon enough,” he reckoned.


Postain fired again, targetting the same pirate ship as before. The effect was devastating. With her shields down, the clipper had no defence against the powerful energy cannons ranged against her and the ship broke under the power of the shots as it’s friend broke the combat and decided to floor it out of local space, leaving her there to die as it slipped to velocity speeds. The hit ship crumpled around the impact as the fighters, both hers and the Rodomonts, headed for distance before the inevitable release of forces and breakup of the ship as it burned silently. “Maximum shields to the fore,” Postain ordered Tarbeck and the Celican routed shield power from lthe rear to the foreward projectors. “We’re not going to be able to run past her in time. Full reverse, Makilla,” he ordered, knowing that it would, at best, slow their approach to the doomed ship. He activated his comm. “Reeves,” he told the teleport operator, “scan for any survivors aboard that vessel. If you find any, bring them in.”

<“I’ll do all I can, sir.”>

“Likely won’t be able to do much with the interference,” Xarra pointed out.

“We have to try. Now, the cruiser. Maldak, hail them.”


Postain stood in front of the screen now, hands behind his back as he waited for the reply. It came on screen and Postain regarded a Roofan Female in a striking black and gold tunic jacket, the gold trim separating the black of the jacket from the black of her fur. Her red eyes glinted with intelligence. “I am Captain Marius Postain of the U.S.C. Battleship Rodomont,” he announced.

She waited a moment before realising he wasn’t going to continue and speaking. <“Commander Raynar of the R.S.F. Ystanic,”> she told him. <“Can we offer assistance?”>


Postain played with the engagement ring behind his back as he considered his response to that evasion of an unasked question. Xarra watched him do it and mentally considered that this was why you didn’t steal from the Raitchian Government if you could help it. They had the second strongest fleet that wasn’t Council and they were the best at stealth technology. She remembered some years back, when they’d had ships stolen and used against worlds in the Star Council region of space. It had convinced the Star Council to attack the patch and full scale war had only been averted by a peace envoy. When the enemy had attacked that, the FLEET the Raitchians had dispatched to find them appeared to save the day. And then they’d left.

“I might ask for the assistance of knowing what you’re doing here,” Postain gambled as he faced her down. “We are several light months from the nearest Raitchian colony, after all.”

<“Not that I need to tell you,”> she replied curtly, <“we were helping out the Mican colony on Delemer. They wanted their Militia trained in wargames.”>

“So you weren’t here in response to the Pirate clan getting hold of weaponry the Council don’t know Raicarra or some such organisation developed?” Postain allowed the briefest hint of amusement onto his face.

Her expression didn’t change. A Raitchian Pokerface. <“If such a thing were to have happened, dealing with that would be an internal matter for Raitche and outside the remit of the U.S.C. and their ships.”>

Postain inclined his head. “Of course. It looks like six of the destroyed vessels fighters are looking for new homes. Might I suggest we each take three? Their ships, after all, have the shield breaker weaponry and Raicarra… or some such… might appreciate a look? To see if they can counter it?”

She mulled it over for a moment. <“Agreed.”> The two ships divided up the ‘spoils’ and the Raitchian vessel vanished again.


“Now,” Postain groused, “let’s go check on the freighter.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Hopefully said freighter doesn't have anymore surprises about it. I can feel Postain's annoyance through my computer screen. XD

[Welsh Halfwit]

Six

The captain of the freighter expressed his thanks to Xarra as the Commander’s team moved to assist the freighter crew in repairs. The Canine agreed that it seemed the pirates had been after something in the cargo but they didn’t know exactly what and they’d not said anything over the communications over what they’d come for. Xarra had asked for the cargo list to confirm what Tarbeck had told them and the Captain had provided a datapadd and Xarra had looked at it and handed it back as the Engineers hurried past with welding tools to repair the hull in the private rooms, where one of the crew had been taken unawares. It hadn’t gone well and Doctor Flakk was currently trying to save the Chipmunk’s life after extreme exposure and partial suffocation. The Captain had been thankful the criminals had been using low power.


Xarra didn’t believe a word of it. For one thing Cargo captains often lied about what they were carrying due to company pressures or the fact they were hauling something naughty and the manifest wasn’t listing the control chips Tarbeck had mentioned. To give him credit, she reckoned it was the first of the options. “And the Kardicka control crystals,” she asked sweetly.

The Captain did his best to look confused. “What Kardicka crystals,” he asked. Xarra filled him in on the fact they’d seen the listing in the manifest on the system and the Captain now looked incredulous, waving his arms about. “They’re on the manifest at central,” he protested, before pointing at Xarra. “Search this ship,” he ordered someone technically superior in rank. “See what you find!” He turned away, clearly angry, and let out a growl of exasperation before turning back to her. “I got targeted,” he stormed, “for something I don’t even have aboard!” He gritted his teeth. “I lost two crewmembers in this attack!”

“And we’ll be following that up,” Xarra assured him. “I need a manifest of the crew as well?”

“What for? I mean it’s clearly to do with…” He composed himself as Xarra waited patiently. “Of course, of course. You need to be sure it was the cargo they wanted and not someone on board…” He brought up the crew manifest and Xarra sent it back to the ship. “Two paying guests,” he added, bringing up the legal documents for a pair of Lappineans and watching as Xarra sent those across too. They were in their late sixties so she didn’t reckon it was likely they were directly involved but, as Yarkin had often told her ‘age doesn’t imply incompetence.’ So she’d get them checked out too.


Harras stood in the passageway of the freighter, his left arm up and holding a new bulkplate in place as the bonder in his right sealed it in place over the slimline cut in the hull. He’d been able to see the Rodomont from where he was, the battleship putting it’s shields around the battered vessel and providing enough of an energy barrier to keep the air in here constant if low until Harras sealed the rupture. It was doing the same across the ship and the Equinna didn’t want to know the strain it was putting on the big ship. He just hoped Levan was keeping things stable over there. Or, Riders forbid, Kohlich. The freighter’s engineer was clearly quite competent, judging by other repairs, but this was something beyond her skills and capabilities. Although he wasn’t going to tell the greyfur Wolven that. She seemed quite intense. As did most Wolven he’d met. He gingerly removed his hand from the plate and nodded as it stayed in place, a very visible repair that allowed him to fully pressurize the area and he nodded as he watched it hold. Whilst he was concentrating on patching the hull, the others in his team had been working on the engines so he checked in on them.


“I have medical training,” Greedan explained as he treated the minor wounds of one of the freighter crew who’d been burned by a fire he’d been trying to put out during the attack. Greedan was running the healing device over the face and hand that had been damaged by the flames, soothing the burns and helping the skin repair itself. “I managed to convince Flakk to let me come.”

“But why,” Darren asked as he applied bandages to a minor cut or two on a Mican, “am I there, Gree?” He let the Mican crew worker get back to work with the patched and bandaged arm.

“Flakk wasn’t letting me go alone,” the hybrid told him. “It was either you or a security guard. And you’re much more fun than a security guard.”

“Yeah, they never think much of the tagged. Even if it was only your bills you were forging,” he added quickly, seeing the Feline Greedan was treating look with alarm at the tag. “Almost done,” he asked as Flakk entered.

“You better be,” the Wolven Doctor warned them. “Your little field trip’s almost over, Convict. Your section chief wants you back.” He examined the work Greedan had done on the patient and considered it sufficient. With Cobalt on administrative duties and Jul busy he’d brought Greedan and his friend along simply because he couldn’t spare any of his nurses or medics and, scum or not, Greedan did have medical knowledge. “Hmph,” he allowed, “not terrible work. You’ll live and be handsome again, Apply the salve twice a day to any irritated spots. Promotes follicle regrowth.” he told the Feline, who looked from him to Greedan and back again, a look on her face that Flakk rolled his eyes at. “Yes,” he said, “you CAN thank the criminal. Just don’t be too effusive.”

She thanked Greedan and shook his hand before running from the room.

“Doc,” Darren laughed, “you are an incredible Doctor…”

“But my bedside manner needs work?”

“The program’s so bad I’d say it needs deleting and a new version installing.”

Flakk Hmphed. “Grouch 1.5 suits me just fine, Levan. Get back to the ship.”


Xarra had found the two old Lappineans in the lunch room, just off the main passageway and had decided to interview them there as others went past. The Merca’s. They’d been on a retirement trip after decades of boring work. Him in construction and her in reception duties for Doctors in the central worlds. Their Daughter had come out to work on Lappinia VI so they’d wanted to come out to see her but prices on passenger liners were expensive and so few of them came to the colony out here anyhow so they’d used a system that linked potential passengers up with freighters that had berths, Maricca told Xarra, and booked passage through the patch that way. Pandera was easy, of course. Everyone went there, she reminded Xarra, before laughing at the idea.


Having just passed by and got into the teleport booth, Greedan wondered why he was feeling someone’s footsteps on his grave.

[Amazee Dayzee]

If someone is starting to sense a person walking over the grave then it means that danger is approaching them fast. Hope he is ready to handle whatever gets thrown at him next!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Seven


Xarra knew that face on the Captain’s Rottian visage and understood there wasn’t much point in arguing with him. They weren’t going back to their assigned duty for a while. Something had tickled his annoyance factor. She stood there, waiting for his decision as he sat behind his desk, contemplating. Eventually he spoke. “We’re taking the freighter to the nearest repair base,” he told her. “That’s Proximmin VI, I believe. Have a course set. Notify the security services there that we have captives for them. How many did Senny bring in?”

“We have, uh, three captives in the cells,” she replied. “Deck Chief reckons that, if he cannibalises one of the fighters he can bring the other two into the Health and safety guidelines for reuse if we want it.”

“We do,” Postain postulated. “You never know when an undercover ship will come in useful. Have the control console removed from each of the ships and kept somewhere secure. Senny Appleby does not spend time alone with the pilots. Not yet. I’ll not tell her she has my trust but there’s no sense in leaving her open to temptation.”

“Understood,” Xarra noted, sending instructions out on her padd to save time. She’d make the orders verbally when she departed the office anyhow. It was protocol. She’d also inform the captain of the freighter that they were going to be taken in tow, if they liked it or not, and hauled to Proximmin, where Monta had a small repair base capable of repairing the freighter. She hoped the insurance he had would cover things. “Is that everything, sir?”

“Who’s the best Computer operative we have on board?”

“That’d be Djaka, sir,” she remarked. “Owned his own company for several years but resigned with the Council because he was bored of sitting in an office.”

“And where will I find him?”

“Sitting in an Office, sir. He runs the sub-department on Deck 12, keeping our systems alive.”

“Right,” he replied, standing up. “Get us underway, Commander. You have the Conn. I’m just going for a walk.

Xarra could guess where he was going.


Postain walked the ship the long way, taking in the crew working to repair the minor damage the attack had done to his ship, Maintenance crews patching systems. He helped out where he could but he’d never been much of an Engineer so he left those better suited to it to do their jobs and kept out of their way. He handed plates and instruments and caught a falling Mican when they slipped on the wet floor. She reminded him a little of his Fiancess Chichester, despite this one having mottled grey and black fur as opposed to his love’s white. It might be the size or lack of weight on his hands. He lifted her back up and told her to be more careful. Flakk didn’t need more patients due to such a slip. She thanked him and wondered why everyone else said he was always angry as he headed to the computer section.


“Dominic,” the Chipmunk remarked, pointing to a Feline at the back of the room, “theshopsystems aredown. It’sa softwareissue accounringto maintenance soget itrunningagain. Peopleneedtheirreal drinksand foodcold, yeah?”

The Feline grinned. “Yes, Chief.” He was thinking of the tuna melt they sold. It was, in his opinion, better than the one the machines made. He started linking in to the store computer as Blayden, the Raitchian next to him, worked on restoring the medical files that had gone offline ten minutes ago. Djaka himself was getting the long range sensor system realigned with Talvery, as they had to do once every year. They’d also get a reading from Pandera for accuracy. If the three didn’t align, they didn’t update and advised the others on the incongruities to map the expansion of the universe. The locked position had moved something like twenty miles in the last hundred years. It seemed pointless but location scanners did need to be accurate. It stopped ships slamming into comets.


The door opened and the Captain stepped in. Djaka almost fell from his chair in his speed to stand up. “Sir,” he said.

“I need a word, Djaka.” He nodded to the tiny room attached. “Your office?” The Rodent desperately wanted to zip in there but, recalling protocol from his time on the Fauntleroy, allowed the Captain to lead the way and shut the door behind them. Postain laid out what he wanted and why and Djaka nodded his assent to the challenge. He’d have to remotely access the system for the company that had sold the routes and work out if the details were accurate or if they’d been manipulated and added to and where the intrusion had come from.

“It’sprobably an insidejob,” the speedtalker replied, trying to slow himself down. “Thebest way to breacha firewallisto workfrom inside it.”

“You reckon you can breach their firewalls if you have to,” Postain asked.

“Won’thave to,” Djaka remarked, shrugging his slight shoulders. “Shipping from there is regulated through Kayla Contractual systems. They bought their firewall suite from me. I always install an emergencybackdoor.”


Tarbeck,” Xarra said, “aren’t you supposed to be on downtime right now?”

“The Celican looked around at her from the science station on the bridge. “Well, yes but… Those Pirates may come back, Commander. I thought…”

She smiled gently. “Yeah, I know. You figured it better you stay on station just in case, yeah? Take it from me, you’ll get no plaudits for a ‘just in case’ style of command. If the bad guys come back, you return to the bridge. As for now? Take some downtime. Use the commissary if you don’t want to go too far. You have an hour. Go relax.” She tilted her head. “Want me to make it an order, yeah?”

Tarbeck laughed a short sound that had the tip of his tongue poking out. “No, sir. Don’t need ‘refused to take a break’ on my scorecard.” He’d never have said that with the Captain but he knew Xarra wouldn’t dock him for flippancy.

“One hour, Tarbeck,” Xarra repeated as the ship flew on.

[Amazee Dayzee]

This was definitely a very interesting chapter that you put up! I do like where everything is going!

[Welsh Halfwit]

A trip down memory lane...

Eight.


The systems were running their analysis of the previous days with the two science officers running checks and analysing the computers analysis. Where they’d been they’d been doing close scans of heavenly bodies and the thought of the term distracted Greedan into thoughts of Doris and he had to remind himself to calm down as his pressure rose. He thought it was all to easy to imagine her in one of those artistic poses and it kept his mind off that pirate’s muzzle he’d seen on the padd. It was quite obvious they’d had work done in addition to the gel and there was something about it that flickered like a candle in a near void in his memory. It was from his past life and, frankly, that was all becoming blurred right now. He supposed that was a good thing. His brain working to keep him sane. He wasn’t happy that he’d possibly forget all the old people who’d been his life but… what would they think of him now? How would he explain it? Did he want to? Perhaps after he married Doris and she’d had his kits they’d introduce them to their grandparents. He licked his lips. It was something to look forward to.


“...aid there’s Merconium in that asteroid field,” Darren repeated, giving his friend a gentle shake to bring him back to reality. “A lot of it too.”

“Mer..?” Greedan bleared up at him. “Isn’t that, um, used in the construction of Canine vessels?”

Darren nodded. “And not normally found in nature, yeah.” He sighed. “We’ll have to tell Chief Tarvin. There’s the possibility a ship’s come to grief there.” He spun his chair around. “And, based on the fact there’s been no registered losses of Canine ships anywhere in the area..?”

Greedan grumbled. “Means they probably weren’t doing anything legitimate.” He looked up. “Darren. You ever had the feeling something’s walking over your grave?”

Darren looked his friend in the eyes and saw he looked slightly haunted, an expression of confusion on his face. He decided to forego the ‘which one’ joke he’d thought of and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Things forgotten often like to sneak in, Greedan. They do. What’s brought this on?”

“Just…” He held out the padd for Darren. “A hermaphrodite created by the gel,” he explained. “But… The muzzle’s been repaired and… I’m sure I know the work?” Darren quirked an eye ridge. And Greedan gestured. “Every surgeon and Doctor does things slightly differently. You get enough exposure to someone’s style of work and you can tell them as easily as a bioprint. This work… I know it. Somewhere. But I can’t remember where?” He grinned. “It might have been in my innocent days for all I know.” He reached a hand around his head and scritched his neck. Then he frowned, wrinkling his brow. “Then there’s the other thing. I don’t know what it was but something set my pulse racing on the freighter. Set my two sets of senses against each other. Fight or flight.”

Darren looked concerned. “You think it’s important?”

Greedan shrugged. “I.. possibly?” He looked embarrassed.

“Well, you know who can help…”


End of shift came an hour or so later and the hybrid walked the ship from the science deck towards C-15. He stopped in at the shop where he picked up a few items and wasted some time before he paid for it and realised he had no chance of getting the cheese and grains pizza to his freezer before it defrosted if he continued on the plan. He asked but was advised there were no refunds. He considered just heading to his berth but the voice was still tickling his brain. Or was it the scan? One or the other. Were they connected? He needed to find out, didn’t he? So he needed to talk with one of the other people on board who knew about him and he soon found himself outside her door. He pressed the stud and listened to the boop.


The door opened and Harmony Appleby smiled at him. It wasn’t as fake as the first few times she’d seen him and he thought she’d been in his brain enough to know he was contrite about his past and optimistic for the future. “I need your assistance, Harmony,” he told her.

She allowed him into the quarters she shared with Senny and gestured for him to sit in the chair opposite her couch as she got a couple of hot drinks ready for their impromptu session.”What seems to be the issue,” she asked, putting her feet under her body and sitting up. He laid it out for her. “Buried memories are often that way because we don’t want them brought forward,” she counselled. “They’ll come through when they think the conscious mind can handle them.” She leaned forward in her Erminian manner, her shoulders almost flowing forward and her arms reaching out whilst her hips never moved. She picked up her mug and flowed back to her original position. “You think these memories are important things?”

“I’d have to think so.” He sighed and sipped the broth. “I mean I worked on the thing for some time. Most people I know were through work in one way or another. I mean, I did schooling and everything so they could be related to that but… I think I need to know, Harmony. I think it could be quite important.” He closed his eyes for a second.


When he opened them again, he was back on the freighter, telling Darren about some of the things he and Doris had gotten up to last night when he suddenly realised Darren was looking a lot more Erminean than usual and he quietened down, She chuckled. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, “I’ve heard much filthier things in minds. We’re here because we need to hear the voice again. So…” She gestured and he noted how the others in the passageway seemed blank, frozen in place and absent of life. “The playback is frozen for right now? Until we decide to release it and you do exactly as you did with Darren earlier.”

“I can’t talk about such things so easily with you” Greedan protested. It still surprised him that he could talk these things out with Darren.

“I don’t mean talk exactly the same,” Harmony laughed politely. Just general chatter so we can hear the voice and lock it in so the search can really begin. Come on.” She offered a hand.

“I definitely haven’t done that with Darren,” Greedan remarked as the memory came to life and they walked the passageways until they heard the voice again and he stopped. “That was it,” he whispered urgently. “That voice!”

Harmony played it back and they backtracked to where he’d heard it. A room of fuzzed, blurred people with Xarra sitting in sharp relief because he knew her. “Why can’t I see them properly,” he asked.

“You weren’t paying attention to them,” Harmony replied, changing the scenario to an enpty void with doors. “This is something different. Your memory is fragmented, yes. A lot’s blurred out and overlaid but these memories are bleeding through somehow. People and places you’ve not forgotten, even if you’ve tried. This could be dangerous, Greedan. Do you want to try opening these doors? Or shall we just go talk to Xarra?”

[Amazee Dayzee]

You just got to love taking a stroll down Memory Lane no matter what situation that you are in. I'm sure that it was very enlightening.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Enter an IOC agent. She's popped up in a couple of stories so I thought she could do quite well here.

NINE


The ship was well on it’s way to the repair base at Proximmin VI, a feline colony that operated as the regional control section for the U.S.C. out here so Xarra had her feet up in her room, lying back on the sofa and reading her favourite Celican bonkbuster ‘secret agent’ novel for the seventh time in two years. She had a few real vellum books to keep her eyesight trained than the autofocus system of a bookpad and she turned the page with her left hand before stretching that arm out for the slice of custard tart she’d made – well, had replicated – and nibbled it. Half an hour before bed, she reckoned as Special Agent Harkalan Jovera seduced another female in a way that would make a Raitchian gag if they were reading it in public and she mellowed down into something like a relaxed doze until her comm beeped in her ear, almost making her throw the book over the sofa in surprise before calling out, using the ‘hands free’ mode as the tap system was on a shelf behind her. <“Agent Appleby to Commander Xarra,”> the voice had said.

“Hands free, private mode,” she replied, switching the system to microphone transmission mode whilst keeping the speaker inside the ear operational. “Xarra here, Appleby,” she replied, walking around to get her book back and noting half the pages were bent. “What’s the issue?”

<“I was wondering if you could tell me more about the two Lappineans you met on the freighter today? The old passengers?”>

Xarra straightened up, her intrigue showing in the furrowed brows as she trued to flatten out the pages. “Why do you need to know about them,” she asked. “Do I even want to know?”

<“I can’t tell you too much about that, Commander. Let’s just say I need to know about them and jog someone’s memory with pictures if I can get them.”>

Xarra slapped her hands down onto her thighs and sighed. “So this is Greedan, then,” she stated. “He’s the only amnesiac we have on board as far as I know and I, of course, know WHY he’s amnesiac despite no-one bothering to tell me! I’m a Commander, Agent, not an idiot! Now that security’s not an issue, I think both of you should come see the pictures in my quarters in ten minutes, don’t you? Cut out the middle-mican and all that?” She closed the link and supposed she’d better get dressed. Quickly.


Harmony Whitestar was, more or less, happy today. In her light cream suit, the Raitchian IOC agent sat back, with her booted feet on her desk as the dust blew by on the colony world of Vallonia. Her good humour was to do with the fact that her Raitchian hating Feline boss was off today with a case of stomach cramps that had come on after the fish he’d bought from a merchant and stored in the office fridge had proved susceptible to the second part of a mild diarrhetic compound. The first part had been in her food a few days ago and he’d stolen her lunch as he often did. He’d be back in tomorrow but, today? She’s finished up notes on the cases they’d been helping out on and done the budget as the Chief had demanded as she was a Raitchian and, therefore, an expert in getting all she could from the credit. Squeezing it until the subcreds stopped dripping as he’d put it. Things were under control now and… The main screen on her computer flashed and she swung her feet down to the floor before she answered. The face on the screen wasn’t one she’d ever met before but she knew who it was anyhow. There probably wasn’t an agent in the patch didn’t know the lined and glaring chocolate fur face that was glowering at her right now. “Captain Postain,” she told him, running the security systems to make sure it really was him as why would the senior U.S.C. Officer in the patch be calling a back desert outpost? “Agent Whitestar, IOC Vallonia. Can I ask the problem?”

<“Where’s Senior Agent Maltravers,”> he asked, irritating Harmony a little.

“At home with stomach cramps,” the Champagne Raitchian replied evenly. Of course he’d know him. It was reputed the Captain knew everyone of importance in the patch. “You’ve got me, sir. What do you need?”


Postain laid out the situation for her and the fact he wanted the shipping company, Kayla Contractual systems, investigated as, from the initial results Djaka had given him, the system breach might have come from the Vallonia offices. “It’s small,” Harmony had replied. “About ten full timers there. I’ll run the E-warrants to get their financials and start the fun from there, sir. I know you’d probably have preferred Agent Maltravers, sir,” she continued, “but he’d likely get me doing all this anyhow. Sir.”

Postain stared at her. She almost felt him glaring her to death from billions of miles away. <“Go private,”> he told her simply and she pressed a few buttons to end the automatic recording of the call as she saw him do at his end. <“Maltravers is an ar*e,”> Postain told her straight. <“He’s perfected being that way as a way to drive others forward to prove him wrong, Agent Whitestar. But it does work both ways. You do a good job and succeed, he takes undue credit for what you did. He’ll also, however, take the rap if things go badly. Just do your work to the best of your ability and don’t give that… ar*e anything to use. I need results asap.”>

“Yessir,” Harmony replied, only just stopping herself from saluting as the screen cut to black. Within minutes the E-warrants were sent to a local federal judge and returned as approved. “Half an hour before clocking off time,” she groused, thinking of the shops she’d wanted to visit.


Kelly Cobalt turned her bulkier than normal frame around in the bad to face her mate as Kohlich reluctantly got out of the bed for his next shift. She appreciated the mottled lower back more than she’d ever tell him but she did reach out and stroke his tail as she so often did, leading the Jestavanian to turn, bend down and kiss her on the mouth. He put one hand to her cheek to hold it there as their tongues explored each other for a moment. After it passed she looked him in the eye. “I promise I’ll let you get a full night’s sleep tonight. Reflex jerks are natural in the last few weeks. Honest.”

The black and white furred engineer grinned his Brocklike grin and tapped her on the nose. “If you don’t I’ll have to strap your legs down,” he warned.

“Promises, promises. I’ll get up in a bit,” she told him. “Do those video workouts.”

“No stressing yourself,” Kohlich reminded her. “Our girl needs her mother as perfect as she can get her.”

“Our boy would say the same for his father,” Kelly puffed as he headed in for the shower. Perhaps she’d do some more admin for Flakk later. When she felt able to get up. As for now, the bed seemed so warm, comfortable and smelled of him and there was no-one to sleepkick out of bed now.


She was asleep when he came back in to dress and go to work. He kissed her head and locked the door before heading in to pick up a breakfast sandwich.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I quite like how much the two of Kohlich and Kelly seem to love each other. I am always a sucker for romance but even more if it is my own character being involved in it somehow. XD

[Welsh Halfwit]

TEN


Harmony didn’t bother to drive to the offices she needed to serve the warrants to. She didn’t need to. She didn’t need to deliver them personally either, along with the request for the footage from when Djaka’s illegal search of the files indicated the upload was made but, as she only had to go three streets and the offices were near one of her favourite thrift stores – where she’d once picked up a Rydrian print for three credits when it was worth seventy at least – she was quite happy to walk it, even in the summer months. So she locked up the office, put the ‘in emergency, contact’ sign with the local Police station number on it on the door and headed off towards her target. She greeted another Harmony, a Lappinean she’d helped rescue a few years back who was now managing a branch of her family’s business in the capital, such as it was, and pressed on, looking to beat time. The office of Garravey, Kubin and Quella, shipping agents known as Kayla Contractual, lay on the entryway to the main strip into town and Harmony almost had to divert herself to go up the steps and stopped partway up to greet one of the colonists. “Heya, Max,” she told the Human who worked in the lowest position in town – coffee delivery person for the Soda-Fona place just down the way. She pointed. “Your shirt’s wet again.”

“Well, it IS summer, Harmony,” he replied cheerily. “The days I wish I were more like you…”

“What, immaculate and smart?”

“Nah. Unable to sweat.”

“AH, could be worse. You think all the panting is discrete?” She indicated the office she was about to enter. “Who’s in today? Dorac?”

He nodded. “And Yirrin.” He appraised the situation. “Official business?”

She glanced at him. “Y’know I can’t tell you when it is, Max.” She knew full well that, by neither denying it nor acknowledging it, she’d just confirmed it was. “I’d better let you go. Before Dellin docks your pay.”

So reminded, Max hurried off.


Chief Yarkin looked over the list of captives from the fight and decided she’d deal with the Celican first. They were always the trouble. Deal with them and the rest often fell into place. So she had Barnswick bring the brute in. He was double cuffed as he looked like he could break a single pair and the Mican was staying a step back with his shokprod out. “Try it, Grain-sh*tter,” the Pirate thundered without raising his voice. “I like a good prodding whilst I’m ripping heads off.”

“Oh, good,” Yarkin said, “we’ve got the padre.” She drew her weapon. “I’m pretty sure it’s set to stun. Sit down and put your hands on the desk or I’ll shoot you and find out.”

The muscles smiled a gap toothed smile at her. “Since you asked SO nicely.” He sat opposite her and the magnets in the table locked his cuffs to them. “So, you here to ask me questions, Sweetie?”

“Security Chief Yarkin. First I get to identify you.” An area on the table, a little way from where his wrists wer constrained, lit up. “Fingerpads,” Yarkin said. He balled his hands into fists. “OK. Fun way it is.” Barnswick put his shokprod into the criminals’ ribs, drawing a grunt of pain from him but little else. His hands remained tight. “Setting three, Barnswick.” The Mican took the prod back, tapped a few controls and put it in again, this time giving off flashes of light that arced like lightning grom the stick and forced the Celican to grit his teeth and bare them against the charge as his back arced and he found himself looking at the ceiling. “You think this’ll… break me,” he panted.

“No,” Yarkin replied, glancing at the open door which was helping the others to hear the loud verbals in here. “but it’ll get you to open your hand. Setting 4.”

Under the pain, he slapped his hand on the panel for a reading. He breathed heavily as the panel hummed. “You’re… you’re not ALLOWED to do that…”

“You’d be surprised what I’m allowed to do, convict. When it comes to pirates we prefer to think of them as rapists and murderers until proven otherwise. Makes them much easier to deal with. Now,” she continued, “I’m going to ask you questions about those people who ran off and left you. You might have some loyalty to them, even though they have none to you, it seems. Whilst this is bringing up your name, you got a handle I can call you? Makes it easier on the forms.”

He growled. “You can call me ‘Catkiller’.”

“Cage it is,” she assented. “As in ‘Caged’, yes?

“You’ll get nothing from me, Silwic,”

“Language,” She pointed and Barnswick put the prod in again, at a lower setting. “Now,” Yarkin continued as Jak shut the door so the others couldn’t hear. “Let’s start with the names of your compatriots. We’re going to get them from them anyhow. You might be able to save them some pain.”


“Chief breaking the Celican,” Officer Durnan asked Jak quietly as they headed out on patrol.

Jak considered this for a moment before replying. “She’s using him to break the others.”


Harmony Appleby had her hands on Greedan’s head as he looked at the identicards for the two old Lappineans Xarra had been talking to on the freighter. She was trying to focus his thoughts and meld the memory of the voice to the picture on the padd but he was having trouble with it. The picture was almost fitting but, every time he tried to search his memory for a face that fitted things blurred and got close but no Karabb as the Lappineans sometimes said, at least in the time he’d been there.

“I heard that,” Harmony said in his mind. He played it back. Repeated himself mentally and he realised he hadn’t repeated himself. That wasn’t his voice, then or now, saying ‘close but no Karabb’. It was nearly the same as the voice from Mrs Merca but different and he followed it through a fragment of memory towards a face that wasn’t quite hers. She was doing… something in an office but he couldn’t see what as he’d never seen her do this before and the only reason he knew this was her was the fact it was her office. But this wasn’t Merca. Some of the features were wrong. Age and species were about right, though. A copy of her face seemed to flake off like paper and floated to Harmony’s head. “For a later search,” she told him, before looking to see the fuzzed out name on the door. “Would have made it too easy, I suppose...”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Yeah anything that you think is too easy is always gonna be too easy. It is nice to have to work a little bit to get answers.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Eleven


Harmony was still up when Senny returned from the Starwheel bar and the Castoran rested her elbows on the back of the sofa, with her hands on Harmony’s shoulders and her head close enough that the Erminian could smell the Gribeer on her wife’s breath as she looked at the two Lappineans on the scree. “Do I have competition,” she asked before licking Harmony’s neck.

Harmony reached back an arm and scritched the back of Senny’s neck. “Only professionally, sweetie.” She relaxed back as Senny kissed and licked the stresses of the day away and moaned happily. “These two on the freighter,” she admitted. “Greedan is sure he knows them. Well,” she admitted, tapping the female’s picture, “her at least. But she doesn’t match anyone from his memory. At least not quite. There’s someone similar so I’ve been looking into if she has family. They’re reputedly coming back from visiting their daughter on Lappinia VI but, based on their names, no such daughter exists.”

Senny put her hand down the front of Harmony’s shirt and flexed against the chest fur. “Perhaps she’s mated and changed her surname? I know I did.”

Harmony put her hand on the wrist of the invader and thought about pulling it out before relenting and holding it there as a clawtip did little circles on her skin. “You don’t play fair,” she complained. “Never do after a Gribeer.” She grinned. “I must get some cans.” She slid back against the sofa and closed her eyes. “I’m also not able to really trace these two back that far. Sure there’s work histories and everything but… I don’t think it’d stand up to really detailed scrutiny? Not that I can raise that as all I have to go on is Greedan thinks he knows someone who looks and sounds like her.”

“Can’t be fun having a Gillnet memory,” Senny remarked, taking her boots off before getting a beverage from the replication system.

“Yeah,” Harmony joked, “his memory’s totally Fyked up.” She set the device aside and got up, sighing as she stretched, “It can wait until tomorrow,” she said, sauntering over to the device for something to eat.

“It IS tomorrow,” Senny responded, indicating where ship time had passed the zero hour meridian by about thirteen and a half minutes. “You need bed, love,” she continued, finishing off her water and putting the glass back in the machine for disintegration. “Join me when you’re done?”

“Of course.”

She took her food back to the sofa and was about to start when Senny’s clothes free top half appeared around the doorway. “The pirates we caught might know something about them,” she ventured. “They were firing to capture, not kill.”

“Because they were told there was valuable cargo aboard?”

“Possibly. But you never know. Can I talk with them tomorrow?”

“Not alone. And you mean later today?”

“Well, I’ll take a chaperone. Perhaps a loving IOC agent? The body vanished back into the bedroom. 20 minutes later, Harmony joined it.


Hadrian Jak walked the passageways happily. This was his favourite shift of the day. Night. The ship was, seemingly, less full with two thirds of the crew in their quarters and just essential maintenance and the night staff in the passageways to disturb the peace. And, of course, Enzo Carvalho trying to sneak home after his girlfriend gave him a kiss. Her parents were higher ranking officers than Enzo’s so they were on a different deck to his and he sometimes found the youngster peeking about. “I’ve seen you, Enzo,” he advised, keeping his hands behind his back and angling his head toward the small passageway that led to a refectory area. “Time for an escort?”

Enzo stepped forward and straightened up. “Gotta practice my sneaking,” he proclaimed. “My duty as a Raitchian.” He stepped forward and Hadrian patted him gently on the back.

“You’ll never hide from me on my home patch, Enzo,” Hadrian told him, beginning the patrol walk that would take him to Enzo’s door in fifteen minutes or so. “How’s Ella?”

“Still great,” Enzo responded.

“Your shirts on backwards,” Hadrian told him.

Enzo laughed. “No, it isn’t!”

Hadrian gave him a smile as the boy’s eyes glittered, knowing he was being funned with. “One day you’ll check and that’ll be a giveaway, pal. What you lot going to be doing tomorrow? With it not being a school day and the ship being at Proximmin XI?”

“Shopping and a visit to the metalworks museum with a class group in the afternoon. You?”

Hadrian had to think on it for a moment. “Probably just a quiet day with my wife. So, a group going to the museum of Metalworks, hmm? Make sure Willa goes with you.”

Enzo frowned and the corner of his front teeth were exposed as confusion showed. “Why?”

Hadrian chuckled. “Well,” he confided, “I happen to know the Passera’s here at the moment so…”

“Kelvan’s here?” Enzo almost danced. One of his best friends, the boy from the freighter and Willa’s boyfriend and, he suspected, lover, was going to be there? He’d not seen him for at least a month on Medrinas IV, where his human stepfather and Raitchian mother had set up a small haulage base with Rasperry, Talitha and the others.

“I’ll let them know you’re coming, shall I,” Hadrian grinned. Enzo did a jumpcircle, his tail whipping around behind him and slapping against Hadrian’s leg. “Ow,” the guard said

“Sorry,” Enzo said, his tone not really meaning it as the apology didn’t cut through his excitement.

“S’Ok. I…” Hadrian put a hand to his ear, which he only did to let others know he was listening to a comm call. “You OK to get home from here, Enzo,” he asked.

“Yeah,” Enzo nodded. This was HIS turf too. Hadrian told someone he was on the way and he headed off, leaving the early teenager next to a lift. He got in and headed down to his level.


Harmony Whitestar wasn’t feeling as incredibly optimistic now she’d had her meeting. They’d been full of support, saying all the things she wanted to hear and denying everything. She’d have the footage to go through in the morning so she could discover the lies. Right now, she was looking through the books and nicknacks in one of the nearby shops. She was checking dresses and jackets and wasn’t quite aware of the Canine outside as he watched her...

[Amazee Dayzee]

Hopefully that canine doesn't have any sinister intentions towards her especially when she has something on her mind. They would probably prevent her from seeing a sneak attack.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Twelve


Xarra wasn’t happy. In fact she was decidedly UNhappy, as were Harmony Appleby and the Captain of the freighter as they confronted his teleport officer as the two ships orbitted Proximmin IX early in the morning ship time. It was about 0730 on the colony and he’d let the two Lappinean guests down. “So let me get this straight,” the Captain fumed, his hand to his temple as his eyes stayed shut, “when I said ‘no-one was to teleport down to the surface without permission’, you didn’t think that involved our guests?

The Feline looked troubled, having been caught doing something wrong. “They… they protested that they’d found a berth on another shuttle and that, if they didn’t go immediately they’d sue us for false imprisonment and making them miss their connection and… Well, I…”

“Got browbeat,” Harmony asserted, having not told him she’d been ‘listening in’ on his mind to make sure he’d been telling the truth which, surprisingly, he had been. They’d effectively come at him from both sides as soon as the door to the passageway had closer, Mr Merca blocking his exit route and Mrs Merca being a total Barrack room lawyer and denying him access to the comm as calling the Captain could easily result in a delay to their plans. And they took their luggage with them. She sighed. “It happens. Where did you teleport them to?”

As Harmony checked on the details, Xarra turned to the Captain. “We only needed to talk with them on the off chance,” she confided. “Your fellow there’s broken no laws so it’s up to you to discipline him if you want to. We don’t need a part in it.”

“Hmm,” the Captain agreed, “docked half a weeks wages should do it. And a lecture about how I deal with the legal ramifications, not the crew.” He said it loud enough for the abashed crewmember to hear as he looked up from the console.

“The starport’s teleport area,” Harmony asserted.

“They could have gone anywhere,” Xarra complained.

“Yeah,” Harmony sighed. “Guess we’d better go down and put my IOC creds to the test.” She looked at the teleport operator. “Thanks. I know I look too good to be an IOC agent but it’s nice to know.” She nodded. “Yes, THAT IOC agent. You should probably stop thinking now? You’re in trouble enough as is. Send us down?” She hopped onto the two person platform and waited on Xarra.


Down on the planet, there was something of a bustle. It wasn’t the tourist season and the temperature was mildly freezing as the two arrived in amongst the families who were taking the day off now they were here. Harmony spotted Martin Jul and his new family as they got on the shuttle bus that had been brought back into active duty for the day and asked Xarra to run over and check the pair weren’t aboard as she made contact with the Spaceport security teams.


Enzo nudged Martin as the Mican sat by the aisle seat, stopping his girlfriend taking the spot. He nodded towards where Xarra was puffing across the way to them. “Isn’t that Miss Hilla,” he asked.

“Commander Xarra to you,” Martin chided playfully, not exactly slapping the back of his head.

“Not when I’m not in uniform,” he replied cheekily.

“I’ll have to buy you one,” his mother chimed in, making him grimace as Xarra boarded the bus, looked around for a moment, and got back off.


Postain stepped onto his bridge and looked around to see the officer he was looking for wasn’t here at the moment. His eyes alighted on Tarbeck, who was keeping his gaze on the screen display and, obviously, hiding something. The Celican was shaking a little. “Tarbeck,” he growled, making the Officer jump slightly before controlling himself.

“Yes… Yes, sir?” He stood and turned to the senior officer, looking up slightly as the station Postain was at was slightly higher.

“Isn’t Commander Xarra supposed to be on duty right now?”

“Y-yes, sir. She asked if I could fill in whilst she and Agent Appleby checked on something on the freighter. I asked her what but she didn’t tell me, sir.”

“Did she say how long she’d be?”

“No but, ah…” The Celican fidgeted. “She’s.. not on the freighter now, sir. She teleported to the colony five minutes ago.”

Postain pointed a finger. “Never become a first Officer. They think they can make stupid decisions without telling you because they’re confident. It wouldn’t suit you!” He stomped across to his office with the report Xarra had sent him about Greedan, Appleby and their thoughts and concerns about this pair. If he could have slammed the door behind him he would have but he had to be content with a ‘vsssh’ sound as it closed. He told Chief Yarkin to contact the colonial security chief about this pair. They had to be found.


Agent Whitestar was aware of him now, this figure that had watched her shopping. Delores Fel, the cashier at the shop had noted him and allowed Harmony to glance in a mirror to see the Labran with the customary straw blonde fur and jowls trying to hide in a long coat. “He must be really hot in that,” the old Raitchian told her.

“Even hotter out of it,” Harmony replied.

“Harmony,” Delores laughed. “That’s rotten!”

“What,” the agent protested as she helped the volunteer bag up two shirts and a set of Sanctamas ornaments, “it’s not like I’m blind or going out with him, is it?”

“Be careful anyhow, Harmony,” she advised as Harmony headed out the door into the street.


She walked along the road, her bag hanging from her left hand as he followed, some fifteen paces behind her. He followed her down a number of streets and passages and she thought this guy was either an amateur or a patsy. Be interesting to see which, she thought as she hopped on a bus for the two minute trip back to where she’d parked, leaving him standing.

[Amazee Dayzee]

So she knows that she is being followed in that case then and is trying to lose him or get him so annoyed he gives up. I guess we will have to wait and see how this goes.

[Welsh Halfwit]

And a passing reference to the previous story, hinting at why plans had to be this way.

THIRTEEN


Senny stepped around the Mican pirate, who was looking uncomfortably unhappy in the interrogation seat as Yarkin looked on, wondering when the Castoran would say anything. She’d gotten the Captain’s permission to allow her in here to ask questions and she’d said nothing for the first few minutes. “How long have you been with the Farrida clan,” the pilot asked, surprising her target slightly, exemplified by making him jump and look up at her. “Just asking,” she shrugged. “I know they weren’t your first clan, after all.”

His voice was strained as he replied. “H...how,” he managed.

She turned his hand upside down and her claw touched an area of a fingerpad and traced a shape around a barely visible mark. “You’ve had a clan etching removed.” She nodded to Yarkin. “Decade or so back, a few of the clans went in for etchings to show their power. Then they reasoned it lessened their investigative capabilities so they stopped doing it.” She shrugged. “Lost a lot of operatives that way. The Farrida’s didn’t go in for it so it must have been another, yeah?” She showed where her own marking had been removed before she sat down.

The Mican signed. “I was Vilkers clan,” he told her heavily. “We lost in dispute with the Dewless clan and kind of got… split up.”

“A.K.A. you became clanless after the Dewless drove you off Minas Colta,” Yarkin mused. “You found the Farrida..?”

“Five years back,” he continued. “They allowed me in.”

“Building their fighter force,” Senny put in. “Needed as many qualified pilots as they could get. Having a grudge against one of their enemies helped, I bet. As, y’know, the Dewless were one of the enemy. But I doubt they really accepted you, hmm? Well, not the high ups?”

He chuckled. “I’m not turning against them that easily.”

Senny sat on the table. “Weren’t expecting you to, honestly. Well, not that easily. They’re your friends. Your colleagues. They’re in danger.”

“From what?”

“The firepower you have,” Senny reminded him. “The ‘shieldbreaker’ energy weapons? Stolen from Raicarra and the Raitchians. You know how badly they go after stolen thec they’re not supposed to have in the first place. You were out cold when the fight was over…”

“Banged my head on the chair back when stabilizers failed,” he complained.

“So you didn’t see who else was there.” She turned on the monitor to show the footage from her guncam as the Raitchian cruiser came into view. “We took you three,” Senny warned. “They took the other three.” She leaned back at the look of alert on his face. “The bases those three know about are now in danger, yeah? Raicarra won’t ask as nicely as us. You tell us why you were on low power during this attack and we’ll let you contact your clan. Do them a favour.”

“Now, hang on a minute,” Yarkin started to protest.

“It’s a fair bargain. He knows we’d trace the comm to where it’s sent but the alert gets out before the Raicarran’s rip it from his comrades. Might save lives. Might save his friends…”

“We don’t really know why we were on low power,” the Mican confessed. “We were just told it was important not to do too much damage to the ship and wait until you got here before backing off…” He gave a sly grin. “but you stopped us.”

“And your headrest helped.” Senny remarked, not being swayed by the charm of this individual. “Got a name, by the way?”

In response, he put his fingers on the table reader and they came up with Declan Tweed, sentence served for offences on Pandera seven years ago.

“Declan,” Yarkin admitted. “Nice name. Not exactly piratical, though.”

“Says here he’s known as ‘Wharfrat’?”

Declan grimaced. “I hid at the docks for a month. Got given that name in the pen and the guy who got me to the Farrida told them. It kinda stuck.”

“I hate nicknames. Declan,” Senny agreed, looking to get him onside.


After escorting him back to his cell, Senny and Yarkin called in to Postain to tell him what they’d found out. A very simple fact. Whatever the plan really was here, it involved the U.S.C. rescuing the freighter.


Harmony Appleby watched the security footage of the teleport area where the Lappineans had been the first visitors of the day and had left immediately they arrived. Although she was no Djaka, she could follow their path by cameras out to the front of the building where a nondescript car had been waiting for them and picked them up. Harmony contacted Maldak to see if the pair had made any comm calls from the freighter. “There any direct shuttles between here and Lappinia IV,” she asked the port’s chief of security, a scraggy looking feline female called Selina.

“Nothing direct,” the Tabby replied, showing the lip scar as she talked. “Goes via Haldana.”

“Haldana?”

“Human colony.”

Harmony nodded. “Right. That might explain it. Human worlds have gene bio scans in their customs areas. They’d, uh, pick up familial matches and these two don’t want to be traced…”


Maldak the Quokkan was slightly excited. She was on a mission! Sure, it was a mission to do her job but it still counted. She still had a comm message telling her she was acting for the IOC and she had a digital warrant to prove it. She had to keep her thick tail under control as she worked her way through the recordings on the freighter. The grimed and slightly smelly Human male who worked on the freighter and had been assigned to overwatch her leaned in. “Couldn’t you have done this from the Rodomont,” he asked.

“Yeah, but not as effectively,” she replied. “Hands on the first system used is usually better, y’know?”

“Suppose I do. I like your smile, by the way.”

“Ah, it’s nothing personal,” she remarked as she located a pair of calls the visitors had made the day before. Short calls of no more than a few seconds each that she called from the buffer they’d tried to erase them into. “I’m always wearing a smile.” He put a mug of thermal flask coffee in front of her and sipped at his own. She almost flinched at the high pitched squeal of the data shots and she took a go at the drink, almost coughing. “Although I wish I could scowl right now,” she laughed, complaining about the coffee.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Guess the reference really did make sense once you read the chapter. This came out very wonderful though!

[Welsh Halfwit]

It seems Harmony made have made a telepathic mistake. Someone is NOT happy...

Fourteen.


Greedan took a breath and thought he should be sweating like a Human as he leaned against the bulkhead and breathed heavily. He was getting anxious now, his mind whirling with the need to remember a face that was halfway in his mind, her voice echoing as he tried to make sense of things. It was important. It was needed. It was probably going to be dangerous. He tried to control his pulse before pushing himself off the wall and moving to knock on the door as he alw…


...the door to the medical bay opened automatically as it always did and he almost overbalanced into the room, leading a nurse to hurriedly step forward and grab him as Flakk came out of his office. “Jenna,” he called, “Greedan’s pulse is spiking so ca…” He observed the scene by the door. “Get him onto one of the beds,” he ordered, “Ready two cc’s Stakilipine.” He assisted with the lifting of the hybrid and forced him to lie down before the other nurse handed him the injector and he pressed it to the white neck to calm the patient down. He ordered some water from the replication system and put the glass down on the locker next to the bed before placing a firm but gentle hand on the patient’s chest, manually feeling the pulse as the drugs worked to lower it and the nurses synched up the devices monitoring him to the bedside units. “Try to move and you’ll regret it,” he warned. Greedan believed him but felt his heartbeat relenting. “What’s going on, Greedan?”

Greedan told him all that had been happening over the last day and Flakk listened, his gaze getting tighter and his lips twitching back to show his back teeth as the patient laid out his fears and thoughts and what he’d been doing. Flakk was annoyed and told him so. “You’re an idiot, Greedan,” he rumbled. “memories are supposed to come back in their own time so the mind has a chance to heal. You’ve tried to force open a door and it’s only gone halfway. Too much without explanation and it’s spiking your adrenaline and your neurons are going crazy. I’m not a big fan of memory booster drugs. They do more harm than good in my opinion but you and Appleby have cocked this right up. I’m going to need to try something to assist.”

Greedan crumpled his face up and sat up, still feeling his head pound but less so than before. “What’s… so wrong with that?”

“Depends on the memories it loosens, idiot.” Flakk walked back from where he’d obtained a small amount of fluid that he loaded into the dispenser. “How would it affect your personality if you discovered you’d killed someone?”

“I...I...I haven’t… have I?”

“Maybe you haven’t,” Flakk counselled. “Maybe you have. Maybe you had good reason. You might have done a mercy killing. You might get all the memory. You might get a fragment. But you were ten minutes from a heart attack when you came in here so there’s no choice but to roll the dice now, drat you.”

“I...I’m not sure…”

“I am. And I’m taking executive action.” He pressed the dispenser to Greedan’s neck again and the hybrid felt the cold jet of fluid into his body. “It’ll help focus those neurons. Hopefully you can direct them better. It’s also something of a sedative so good morning. He lowered |Greedan to a sleeping position to stop him falling off the bed. “Subconscious is a better way to open such memories that conscious,” he told the Celican nurse before writing a report that reamed Harmony Appleby for performing such an action without his approval.


Harmony Whitestar looked over the videos at home, logging in remotely to the IOC database as she munched a ryebread cracker with salsa on it and fought to stop it dripping on her shirt. She was almost at the point that the Rodomont had advised the manifest code had been uploaded and she was looking for people she didn’t know with a side possibility of it being someone she DID know. The thought was a little repellant to her as she knew these people. Not really personally but she knew them enough to say heya in the street and know what drinks they ordered from the delivery guy. But, being Raitchian, she knew that the ones most likely to be able to fleece you were those closest to you. Especially family. So never get drawn in to loyalty as it hid the disloyal. The finances were locked securely so she couldn’t access them from here, that would need to be done tomorrow. She’d mailed Maltravers with the situation and everything she’d done or set in motion and she’d saved it to her computer galnet storage in case he tried to take credit for it. But it was coming to the moment of truth where the terminal was in use and… whited out. It flickered back in two minutes later. “No one there.” she grumbled. “You’re not as smart as you stink you are,” she told the doctored footage as she examined the surrounding cameras. She knew they must have a signal jammer but it would still leave a trace as the other cameras whited out along the way. It was laying a trail.


Enzo and Willa examined one of the burger things in the franchise restaurant and volunteered each other to be the one to test it as it didn’t look like the meats either of the friends were familiar with and was a tinge too purple for the palates of those who mostly ate replication provisions, only going for the real thing every now and again. Martin Jul sat watching them. “Is one of you going to eat that,” the Doctor asked with a smile.

“Is it safe,” Enzo asked his step-dad.

A voice from behind them answered as he reached over and took the burger. “I’ve always found them edible,” Kelvan said, taking a bite before chewing it and handing the half eaten burger to Willa. “I’ve had better, though.”

“Kelvan,” Willa squealed, getting up to hug and kiss her boyfriend from the freighters. Enzo caught the falling burger as Kelvan had to use his hands to hold her, one hand resting on top of her feline tail as they kissed with passion.

“Do I get something similar,” Hayseed said, stepping into view. The Lappinean chef invited Enzo in for an embrace.

“I ain’t kissing you,” Enzo said, giving him a quick hug before Martin stepped over and shook his hand.

“Wouldn’t have thought I’d see you in a place like this,” Martin told him as Kelvan came up for air.

“Well, I knew you always want to test these places,” Kelvan said.

Hayseed held up the burger. “Very little real nutritional value,” he admitted. “A bit over cooked and flavouring added.” He put it back. “It’s safe, Enzo.”

“Tastes good too,” Willa said coyly. Kelvan chuckled with his feline girlfriend.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I want to know what Hayseed considers the perfect burger then. As most of the ones I eat have flavoring and are a tad overcooked. LOL

[Welsh Halfwit]

Fifteen


Hadrian popped his antlered head into the security office as he passed by on his day off. He hadn’t bothered to head down to the colony as he’d been there before and hadn’t thought much of it on the last two visits. He was keeping an eye on the rooms occupied by families who might be down on the colony today. The chances of anyone taking advantage were extremely thin but it couldn’t be discounted. Codebreaking and entering wasn’t unheard of, even aboard the Rodomont. Several lower rankers had come up before the Captain’s court for that over the years. Most of them were transferred shortly afterwards. Now, though, he was just touching base with Chief Yarkin. The feline was watching a screen and Hadrian came around to see what she was working on. It appeared to be a hand drawn picture of an older Lappinean doe and he put a hand on the back of her chair. “Entertaining your artistic side,” he asked lightly.

“Not even slightly, Hadrian,” she replied, resting her chin on a padded hand palm. “This is Harmony’s sketch of a female connected to Greedan.” She raised her eyeridges. “His previous life, I mean.” She let him see the other screen, that was running down thousands of pictures of female Lappineans at rapid speed. “Appleby got this from his memories last night. They tried to identify her in there, apparently, but they couldn’t open the door, as Harmony put it.” She shrugged. “Whatever that means anyhow. At a rough guess it’s to do with the thing we’re still not supposed to talk about that made him the creature he is today. I said I’d run the scan for her.”

“Are you going to tell Greedan if you find her?”

Yarkin simply looked at him and wondered if he’d heard.


Darren entered the sick bay with Doris and asked Flakk if they could sit with Greedan. The Wolven shrugged. He appreciated the fact they were friends with the patient despite his past and, with him remembering his past, it would do well to remind him of the new connections. Flakk noted they both took a hand and sat on either side of the bed. Greedan flinched but relaxed.


The path in his mind was dark, illuminated by spotlights around the wall but still dark. Greedan had the feeling he wasn’t alone any more as he stepped down the passage towards the distant voice he could hear. The words sounded clearer now, still muffled by the fog of time but more strident. He thought he caught a whiff of Doris’ scent and thought he’d hold on to it as he heard someone else say that she wasn’t going to wait for him. The words ‘I have options now’ plunged his heart to his nether regions. This was… what was her name? Sally? Something like that. He looked in and the scene melted into him in his little apartment, being dumped by a pre-recorded message. No, he reasoned, not being dumped. Being told he had to get promoted. Being told that she wasn’t going to marry a research assistant who had to live on Lapas for his job. She didn’t want to leave home for someone making so little money. He could see himself looking crestfallen and wondered how this was working. He supposed it was his subconscious mind showing him what he’d been feeling rather than have him go through the more complex way of making him feel them. He saw the resolve in his own eye. He was going to ask someone something in the morning. But, for now, he’d just switched the recording off and walked through his watching form as though his future self wasn’t there. Which he wasn’t, of course. Would he recognise himself, Greedan asked of himself, looking down at his taller, more muscular, body. He flexed his hands and he was sure someone was holding them.


No. Not this memory. Things were going crazy as the IOC and others attacked. He’d been promoted to senior technician now. The lab had gone more overt, chasing down the progress made as a spin off from the fertility serum that broke the genetic blocks for the elders in society. He grunted a laugh as he remembered ‘wondering’ who knew that breaking one genetic bond meant you could break all of them? The voice. Telling him that they had the responsibility to do this since they knew it could be done and, if they didn’t, someone else would without them. And it could sell on the black markets. He could make enough money to win Sally back. He sighed as he considered that. As his younger self considered HER. He was infatuated with her then, he could see that now. She’d given him the time of day and he’d given her his all and it had never been enough. Oh, he was beginning to remember Sally all right… No. The moment was frozen. The explosion going off. The way he was falling as shrapnel cut into his ankle, large enough to take the foot clean off. This memory he really remembered, much though he really didn’t want to. The shrapnel had the gel on it. The transformation ooze. It had killed him, this thing. He’d survived his own death. A scent drifted through his mind, cutting the mood. It brought him a more recent memory. Fermented Bludjooce and drunken singing with Darren and Kerri. The memory changed to him upside down on their sofa, as nekkid as a jaybird and not caring one whit.


“The tolerance of the body is always tested,” the females’ voice cut through, bringing him back to a building where the windows were fake, illuminated to show rolling vistas when they were underground and… underground! That… that had to be something, didn’t it? He remembered someone telling him that people never looked under the ground when the building was tall. He recalled that the first level was the labs where this accident had occurred. But the floor below was where he’d mainly been located. Amongst the patients. He’d seen the first experiments. He remembered that now, leaving out the mental images of the dead. The twisted. The victims. There was no call for the punishment. That would come to him in good time.


The memory shifted and he watched himself pull a sheet over a face. He couldn’t see it from where he was but he could see his own face and there was revulsion on it. “Gene degredation cut in at the seventh hour,” the female’s voice said. She was standing close by. He could see the grey fur of her arm. The length of her ear tips. The pride in her tone. He’d helped this thing happen but he knew she was the driver of the plan. At least at this point in the memory.


Darren almost leapt back as Greedan opened his eyes. Greedan looked at him. “Hey...heya, Darren,” he said hoarsely before turning to Doris. “Heya, love,” he said before pulling her into a deep kiss. She made his heart thump and, as their tongues examined each other, he knew that he made hers thump too. He could feel her pulse. He needed her. But first… Reluctantly he pulled his mouth away from hers as Flakk came over. “Doc,” Greedan breathed, “I need to talk to someone. I know who the mystery memory is.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

It's about time they find out about the mystery memory and what it is and who the person is. I'm sure that they were just wracking their brains around it trying to figure it out for themselves. LOL

[Welsh Halfwit]

Sixteen


Harmony and Xarra stood in the shadow of a building in the industrial area of the colony’s only real city and observed the building opposite. It was a standard, unoccupied, block of a building that the old Lappineans had directed their cab to less than an hour ago. They’d seen the rental details on the security vid and contacted the company, who’d been reluctant to provide any details until Harmony had held her IOC ident up for scanning. And that had elucidated a change of opinion and a bit more help. Xarra sipped coffee from a takeaway cup and growled at the sameness of this conglomerate coffee in every outlet across space. She complained for a Xanthian Roast and Harmony was thankful she’d declined. Too much coffee wasn’t good for Erminians. But she enjoyed the scent. Even if slightly honeyed.

“So what is that place,” Xarra asked.

“According to a few minds that passed,” Harmony replied, “it used to be a laboratory for the local Police and medical centre. They’ve got a new place on the other side of the city so this place has been abandoned for a year.”

“So, why aren’t we over there,” the Mican asked.

“That security camera’s still on,” Harmony appraised her, nodding subtly towards the seeing eye lens.

“So, how do we get in without attracting attention?”

“Give ‘em something else to concentrate on,” Harmony mooted. “Gave a guy a compulsion twenty minutes back,” she added, ignoring the look Xarra gave her. “He called the Police and reported intruders in the place.” She hung back as a number of police vehicles started appearing. “Police really don’t like people in their old stuff,” she added.


Postain sat behind his desk as the criminal he was charged with making useful scum stood on the other side of the desk with Chief Yarkin and Darren Levan. He didn’t know exactly what Levan was doing there but Greedan seemed to need him so what the heck. Now he’d find out if what he suspected was true, anyhow. Levan knew. He had to. “You going to talk, Greedan,” he grumbled.

Haltingly the hybrid told him of the past couple of days and the memory that had been at war with his brain. Postain knew most of this, of course, and hurried Greedan along until the creature came to the point. “Her name’s Doctor Clover Hayke,” Greedan put in. “She was a senior researcher and scientific specialist Layton brought into the project as she was the best gene specialist they could get without making waves with their disappearance.”

Postain looked to Yarkin. “Any truth to this, Chief,” he asked, feeling his gut churn with the fear Greedan was right.

“She went missing from her home three years ago,” Yarkin contributed. “Lappinean Police investigated but there were no leads so it went cold according to the files.”

“Don’t update them,” Postain remarked, knowing that even this inquiry would have left a mark on the digital file if anyone looked. “All we have is HIS word. Is there a picture?”

Greedan agreed that the pale grey doe on the screen was her. The date was several years old, of course, but it was her. “She was on the list, I think,” he added. “Those suspected of being involved when I was, uh, brought in.”

“Shame you couldn’t remember her then, isn’t it? And this is the Lappinean from the freighter?”

“Her.. her voice is,” Greedan swallowed, his pointed Mican teeth shaking slightly.

“She doesn’t look like the picture,” Yarkin put in. “Not completely. Of course that could be explained by the same thing that happened to him.” Postain glared at her. “I’m a chief of security, sir,” the Feline arched, “I KNOW how to investigate, sir. And he told HIM,” she continued, indicating Darren with a claw, “when he got drunker than a Raitchian in a brothel.”

Darren grimaced as Postain stabbed eyes through his head. “When?”

“Uh,” Darren fidgeted, “ab...about two months ago. I’m… not that interested in his, um, past and…”

“Keep it that way, Levan. Xarra and Appleby are down on the colony, trying to track the pair. When they’re found, Flakk can do deep scans on their genetic make up to see for sure. This is the knowledge I was worried about getting loose, Yarkin. Gene treatments that change your whole biology and physiognomy. You can beat any scans that don’t involve gene testing, apparently – which is why they avoided the Human colony – so known criminals and terrorists can just walk through security anywhere. Yarkin, get on the comm to Xarra. Tell them what they might be up against. You two stay back a moment.”

Knowing she was dismissed, Yarkin headed out to make the call as Postain continued to glower at Greedan. “Flakk tells me he’s having you look at another victim of this gel. A multi-species hermaphrodite? And you said there’s something familiar about it. Is this Hayke’s work?”

Greedan shook his head. “No, uh, Captain. It’s nothing about the gel involved in this. I think sh...h...they had some muzzle work done after the gel was done? There’s some sign of repaired damage. I don’t know what it is it’s reminding me of but there’s something about that repair that’s familiar…”

“Don’t press it,” Postain ordered. “Flakk sent the report about this morning to me before you got here.” He stood up. “I have no time for you. But I have no wish to see you dead on the deck. Now, get back to work.”


The pair left the office and walked, hands behind their backs, alongside each other. “That was practically a ‘look after yourself’,” Darren said pleasantly.

“Maybe I’ll get a ‘good job’ in five years or so,” Greedan replied.

“Aim high, my friend,” Darren remarked, “aim high. Now, back to the scan analysis. Dinner tonight?”

“After a death scare I suppose I’ve earned it. Light Bludjooce only, though.”

“Lightweight.”


Xarra and Appleby made their way into the building behind the back of a local Lappinean officer with an ease that made Xarra not want to ask. They’d made it through three rooms before the locals had their weapons trained on them.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Seventeen


Harmony and Hilla Xarra waited in the empty office as one of the police kept watch over them. Xarra leaned against a window frame as Harmony sat her long body down in the corner anf examined the sun shadow Hilla was casting, the Mican seemingly eight foot in length on the light reflected off the windows opposite. The shadow’s ear twitched as others worked the building around them, looking for Lappineans who probably weren’t there. They weren’t being allowed to assist in the search as there was no legitimate reason for them to actually be there unless the Police Chief called them in and he was on his way now. Caught up in traffic or something. Harmony looked up at the Canine cop. “They found anything yet,” she asked.

“The Chief will advise you, Agent Appleby,” he replied morosely.

“Fine,” she replied, not using her abilities to read him. “One thing of importance. If they find anything looking like a laboratory, stay out.”

He looked at her with a bit f a sneer as Xarra facepalmed. “Are you serious,” he asked. “The whole place is a laboratory.”

“Was,” Harmony corrected. “If they find one that looks like it was used in the last few days…”

“Understood.”


Maldak cast a swear under her breath and continued trying not to breathe in as she worked alongside the freighters’ engineer, who she’d learned was called Charles. He ws a little too close and she could smell the sweat under his arms. It wasn’t natural, surely? She was beginning to understand the odour absorbant fabrics they were given in the U.S.C. ranks now. She might make a gift of some to Charles if she had to keep coming back. “There’s prior calls,” she advised, pointing to spikes in the transmission logs. “Nothing’s been recorded as there’s breaks in the system an hour or so after each one, wiping the record. Look.” She pointed to where recorded log sizes and actual log sizes didn’t match.

“Shouldn’t be much trouble to restore them now we know they’re missing,” Charles said.

“What’s this ‘we’, Kemo Sabe,” Maldak replied, accentuating her usual smile with a real grin. “I’m doing all the work.”

“But I’m providing emotional support,” he replied as his Captain stormed past, arguing on his own comm with someone on another world about the hold up in delivering his cargo and the repair bill. “He’ll talk them around,” Charles told her. “He usually does.”

“A tough guy,” Maldak conceded. “Suppose he has to be. Met a few freighter types last year. Hard workers on a budget.”

“Yeah,” Charles replied. “I’d imagine your world’s not easy but it’s like living in a mobile town compared to us. With shops…”

“Three of them,”

“...medical centres, supply stores and entertainment…”

“...You’ve obviously never experienced our amateur Dramatics company…”

“...available to you. I have the vids and six shipmates.”

Maldak’s ears pricked up as she made a slightly logically illogical assumption. “Are you asking me on a date?”

He almost fell back. “I, er, no. I, uh…”

“Coffee when we’re done,” she offered. “From the Rodomont.” She mock sniffed. “And I’ll even buy you a uniform.”

He sniffed under his arms. “It’s not that bad,” he protested.

“Proving Humans have defective sniffers,” Maldak cut back before restoring as much of the call logs as she could. “They called… Hmm.” She stood up. “Time to deliver the report,” she announced. “Beam over in… twenty and we’ll have that coffee?”

“It’s a…”

She pointed a finger. “It assuredly isn’t. Coffee between friends is all, right?”


“So,” the chief explained, after having the situation explained to him by Xarra, “you have two Lappineans you’re trying to trace for reasons you can’t tell me about, who were here for reasons you don’t know, possibly connected to a laboratory you’d rather we didn’t know about. Is that it?” The blue suited Pekan rested languidly against the wall near the door as the two females stood a few feet away. “Are you actively serious right now?”

“We are,” Harmony assured him. “I know it sounds unbelievable but we suspect this Lappinean doe you see here,” she added, handing him a padd, “is possibly one of the most dangerous criminals that has ever set foot on this colony. If there’s a working laboratory here she may well be the most dangerous criminal in this entire sector.”

“There are signs…”

“Show us, Appleby interrupted, impatient for time.


The chief led the way downstairs, to where the power was still on and the room was, by and large, trashed, with fluid across the floor and an inert teleport booster in the corner nearest them. “The fluid could have shorted out the booster and wiped the records if..,” the chief started.

Harmony turned on him. “Someone’s been in there?” She pointed a finger. “Anyone who’s been in there needs to be decontaminated. Immediately. And immolate their footwear.”

“What for..?”

“Because I told you to do it! And make sure they don’t get wounded. By anyone.”

“Oh, gods,” the Chief said lamely, “I’ve heard the rumours but…”

“If you say ONE more word,” Harmony warned, “I’ll have to get you read in by the sector chief and you’ll never sleep well again. Just tell them it’s unknown chemicals chief.”

He did so whilst Xarra commed Flakk.


Five minutes later, the quartet were in sealed suits and the Chief wondered who’d eaten what in the suit he was borrowing as they entered the sealed scene. Flakk stooped to collect a large sample of the fluid as Xarra found her way to a half wrecked desk with a few documents still visible on it. <“That’s today’s date,”> the chief told her.

<“Some sort of demonstration,”> Xarra replied, putting her rusty Lappinean to use. “Proof of concept.”

<“But there’s nothing happening today,”> the Chief replied. <“It’s the off season.”>

<“Numbers might not count,”> Flakk replied. <“Proof of concept requires exposure, not mass casualties.”>

<“And there IS something big here today,”> Harmony contributed, eliciting looks from the others. <“The Rodomont. There’s about four hundred of us on the planet at the moment.”>

[Amazee Dayzee]

Got to reading all of these chapters when I got back home and I have to say I do really like them. Wonderful work on all of the story you got done!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Eighteen


Martin Jul was a little bored. He was one of the designated adults for the school group and was trying to keep at least half a dozen children from running everywhere in the museum as the guide attempted to keep them interested in the art of metalwork through the decades on Proximmin. Ella, Enzo’s girlfriend couldn’t help but appreciate the artistic vision of the sculpted pieces that showed the inventive qualities of the makers more than the buildings they’d made did. The colony had been founded by an artistic collective that had specialised in wielding metal like art and bricks and wood. It was cheap grade metal strengthened by a process created by the Mican military to cut down the price of their ships and sold to the mercantile market in time of peace. For quite a price. Martin reckoned they’d probably gotten half a fleet from the proceeds over the twenty years it had run. Now? Cheap housing and art. Kelvan and Willa, followed by the Lappinean chef Hayseed, re-entered the room after what looked like a short visit to the cafe downstairs. Ella had the wrapper of a cake in her pocket. They both had crumbs around their mouths. “They really do miss each other when they’re apart, don’t they,” he mentioned to the Chef as the two early teens joined the others.

“Yes, well,” the chef replied, “young love.”

“Reminds me,” Martin remarked, glancing at the cook. “Reminds me, I don’t know your first name.”

“Wheat,” he replied.

Martin looked at him in surprise. “Wheat Hayseed?”

“Not really,” he replied. “But it suits me to use it. A whole colony based on metalworks?” He shook his head. “I’m not awfully fond of this world. Probably why Frank assigned me.”


Greedan ran the tests on the gel compound that Flakk had obtained from the building as he was the one person now immune from the effects, therefore the only one who didn’t need a protective suit so he could do the finer work. His holed memory couldn’t recall everything he’d done when working for these people but he could do the easier stuff, and he was putting it in the sealed container for analysis by penetration beam scanner. “You said the place was trashed, sir,” he asked Flakk, who replied from inside a protection suit.

“Yeah. Which means we were meant to find this. Or step in it.”

“Any idea where the occupants beamed to?”

“No.” Flakk straightened up. “I know she probably has some answers for you but that’s irrelevant right now. Concentrate on the work and let Xarra and Appleby do their stuff.”

“Could you shout at me, please,” Greedan asked. “You being nice is creeping me out.”

“Make a mistake and I’ll cripple you.”


Postain stepped onto the colonial surface and looked around. Too much metal for the Rottian’s nose. He headed for the vehicle he’d hired and headed for the centre of the capital. They’d contacted the local law enforcement to get them moving but he wasn’t leaving this to the locals again. Not after the Karrin situation. The metal construction restricted the use of comms in the capital, creating signal black spots that explained why he’d not been able to get a message to the school group. Boosters were being installed soon, the comms officer had told him ‘helpfully’. The police were on the way but the children might not trust them. So he was here to convince them. So he told himself. He was fed up of being left on the sidelines as well, restricted to bridge work. So he’d put Tarbeck in charge and come down.


The half full hospital waiting room couldn’t help but stare at Kohlich as he waited on Kelly being taken in to see the Doctor for her check over. She was sat right next to him but the eyes weren’t on her but on him. The Jestavanian. Not enough like a Brockian to pass for one, apparently. The other one, the one who’d joined security after falling for a Brockian had gotten much the same on the occasions he’d been out so he’d stayed on board today. Kohlich didn’t have that excuse. Especially not today. He squeezed Kelly’s hand as she smiled up at him. “It’s just checks and protocol,” she told him. He knew that. Each colony had their own specialists and scanners that could pick up things others couldn’t so ‘checking in’ with the locals was normal. Especially with hybrids. She put his hand to her womb as the occupant shifted and kicked out. “Got a sport star there, love,” he told her as her name was called. He stood and wheeled her in, as instructed by the nurse at the door. He inclined his head politely to a youngster as the pup stared at him in passing.

“She or he can join you in celebrity,” Kelly joked.


“There’s some genetic drift,” senior obstetrician Sweele told them, looking over the files Flakk had sent down as well as the scans he’d made. The Russellian’s left ear pricked up slightly, leaving the tip bent over. “But that’s to be expected, I suppose, considering.” He looked at Kohlich. “Jestavanian, right?”

“For my sins,” he replied, shaking his head as he offered a hand. “And yes, you can,” he added.

The Doctor looked confused. “Pardon?”

Kohlich stood up and put his arms wide as Kelly chuckled. “Do scans.” The glint of happy teeth in his mouth. “Everyone asks. I might have said no if you’d asked but you didn’t so yeah, you can.”

“Well, I, uh, wasn’t going to,” Sweele lied unconvincingly. He pointed to the white panel on the wall. “Upper body scanner. And thank you.”


They’d gone off again, accidentally this time after Willa had spent a few moments too long looking at one of the exhibits and they’d lost the group near the elevators. So Willa and Kelvan had made use of them and parted as the doors opened on the top floor of the four. It was quiet and cold and Willa convinced Kelvan out to look around. “Normally I’m the one wanting to get in trouble,” he told her as they looked around the maintenance floor, pushing open doors and glancing in rooms. In the distance, the lift door dinged again and Martin found them close to the sprinkler tank. “There you two are,” he challenged. “Come on, back to the group! Now!”

Kelvan stepped, sheepishly, around the tank and kicked a container. Martin froze for a second, then stooped and picked it up. He sniffed the open top and recoiled. “I don’t know what it is,” he replied, “but I don’t like it…” He checked where the bottle had been. The top to the sprinkler tank opened. In Martin’s mind it opened far too easily. He looked in and sniffed. The same smell. He pointed to a wheel on the wall. “Kelvan,” he instructed, “turn that off. I’ll get someone up here. “I don’t know why but the spr…”


Somewhere else. A fire alarm started ringing. Kelvan joined Martin in trying to turn the wheel before the sprinklers activated.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I am sure they don't have to worry that much about ALL the sprinklers going off. That is just a trope in television because when one sprinkler goes off they all don't go off.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Give you a hint. Kelvan, Willa and Martin are in the main tank room.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Yeah I know that but I am just saying that setting off one sprinkler doesn't set them all off at once. So whatever is in the sprinkler tank would only go out the head that is activated. Also they activate by fire and not by setting off the fire alarm. If they went off whenever someone pulled the fire alarm my elementary school would have been flooded out when I was in 2nd grade. XD

[Welsh Halfwit]

Nineteen


The wheel strained under their muscle and the layers of paint over it fractured and cracked as Martin, Willa and Kelvan pulled. The readings crept up towards release. Willa questioned why they were doing this. “Someone’s…” Martin stated, still pulling, “contaminated the water system. To...today. The scent’s still… on the bottle. And now the… system’s going to fire up?” He almost fell back as the wheel finally moved properly, cracking flecks of paint and rust from it’s housing and Kelvan took over all the work of turning it shut shortly before the board went to ‘release’. Martin turned to it and thumped the ‘abort’ button, which was suddenly flashing.

“Couldn’t we have… just done that,” Willa asked breathlessly.

“Not until it started flashing,” Martin remarked, putting a hand on her shoulder to calm her. “With the state of everything else around here, I wasn’t going to risk it.”

Willa sniffed. “Whaddya mean? This place looks perfectly nice.”

“This room,” Kelvan remarked, “looks like the engineering room on the Passera.” A smile. “Not as ritzy as the rest of the place.”

“Exactly. It’s a little neglected.” Martin headed for the door. He opened it, only to stare at the midriff of a Canine who wasn’t wearing dungarees or the outfit of the tour guides. He was, however, wearing a heavy growl and a knife. And so was his friend. “Ah,” Martin said, slamming the door closed again.


The Canine put half his body in the door to stop it and regretted it as Kelvan drove a fist into his groin, making him stagger back out of the way as Martin forced the door home. “Nice shot, Kelvan,” he enthused.

“Mum always said you only fight clean if you want to keep a white shirt to wave in defeat,” the boy said, blocking the door with a pipe Willa handed him.


Postain pulled up at the museum and got out as the children and their teacher, Miss Matagne, assembled in the street outside. “What happened,” he demanded as the Feline finished up a headcount.

“Where are Martin Jul, Willa and that boy,” she asked her assistant, before turning to the Captain. “All I know is that person,” she said, indicating a Canine being handled by museum security, “came in with a lit torch, threw it into the room and stood back.” She looked confused and scared as she thought on. “He had friends. They ran off after the sprinklers failed to engage and there’s three missing and…” Postain left her to gather herself and headed up the steps to get in, where a Lappinean he vaguely knew joined him. “Get back outside,” he growled as they made advantage of the confusion to get inside.

“Waste time and make me,” Hayseed challenged. “Kelvan’s my responsibility and I’m not letting harm come to him.” He headed towards the stairs. “They’ll be top floor,”

“How do you guess that?”

“Sprinklers haven’t gone off,” the chef replied.

Postain had to agree. It was logical.


“We kill you when we get in there,” one of the voices told them as they continued trying to break the lock or dislodge the bar holding the door shut. The handle was breaking. “Where is security,” Willa asked plaintively.
“Probably outside before being told there are missing,” Kelvan replied, grabbing something to swing at any hands or heads that came through. The frame was bulging with each blow.
“Why haven’t they tried shooting out the lock,” Willa asked, making Martin arch an eyeridge at her. “Just wond’ring,” she replied, shrugging as the door broke. As the first entered the room, she gritted her teeth after licking her claws for luck, and dashed forward as Martin and Kelvan fought to keep the intruders back. They were failing and the door was wrenched fully open as she arrived and her claws, reflecting the light from the ceiling, glinted in an overarm blow, flashing down the muzzle of the first Canine and making him screech as Kelvan bit his hand to make him drop the blade he was trying to use. Martin picked up the fallen bar and swung it at a midriff. Instead it impacted on the already wounded one’s face and twisted him down to the floor. Now there was just the other one… Martin looked around. Where was he? And how was the first getting up again? Kelvan punched his side but the Canine swept the boy away. Martin stood between him and Willa and brought his impromptu weapon up before smiling.


The Canine got the feeling there was something behind him and turned to see a hostile looking Rottian looming over him, blotting out the light from the passage. The Rottian put hands on both his shoulders and brought his forehead down onto his muzzle in a way that broke teeth and bone before he kneed him straight in the groin, devastated his equilibrium with a right cross, picked him up and threw him at the tank, the surface of which buckled under the impact, dunking the victim into the tank. Postain strode forward to pull him out but Martin interceded as Hayseed appeared in the door.

“I wouldn’t do that, sir,” the Doctor explained as the kids rushed to hug Hayseed, making Martin ponder who the hero was here. He pointed to the container on the floor. “The tank’s contaminated. I don’t know what with.” He looked over as the Canine, still bleeding from bites, butts, claws and bars, pulled his way back up and up, onto his knees. His eyes looked crazed now, under the sopping wet fur as Martin made for the door and Postain borrowed the bar. He could see the pained look in the criminals eyes now and thought something wasn’t right about it. It was more than physical pain, it seemed as he growled and launched himself at Postain. The Rottian stepped aside and brought his bar down on the top of the creature’s head. He crumpled to the ground. “Don’t touch him,” Postain ordered. “I’ll get Flakk down here to… treat his wounds under arrest. He tapped his comm, remembered the area was a dead zone and headed out to make demands of the locals. Including cuffing this gentleman. Very carefully.


Very, VERY, carefully.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Not sure how much more carefully that they will be able to cuff him because if they are anymore gentle he might be able to break. There has to be some necessary roughness when arresting someone don't you know.