THE LOPER

[Amazee Dayzee]

Yeah probably not a good idea to try to do battle against six Lappineans who probably also have weapons on them and know how to use them. Better come up with something else quick.

[Welsh Halfwit]

56


Plumley rested against the closed door and put his hands on his knees. He growled in frustration at the fact that their opponent seemed to be a step ahead of them . “How could they know where the back exit is,” he asked.

“Probably someone in the office told them,” Aldair replied lightly. “I mean intelligence and counter-intelligence is a given, isn’t it? So spies are in place and the buyable are everywhere. Who knows about the emergency exit but not the main door?” He looked coolly at the Human.

“And did Roebuck tell you to send a ship for Andros?”

Plumley relaxed as Harmony tensed at the sudden shift in topic. She could see from Plumley’s response that the denial was a lie. It had been a Human ship, after all. Even if a Wolven had been the captain. The furless wonders often employed agents from other species who didn’t stand out as easily as they did. And they usually had Human ships as they were more easily available to the Humans. But was this a guess or did he have proof that..?

Plumley grinned. “I can neither confirm nor deny that, Commander Hawle,” he stated, wiping his brow, “but we did gain knowledge of the project.”

“And now we’re trapped in here,” Hawle commented, checking the scanner to verify that there were, indeed, Lappineans outside and verifying that there were. “Do you think they have a sensor watching the door?”

Plumley nodded. “Almost certainly. I’ll send someone to trigger it.” He nodded to one of his troopers, who reluctantly handed over most of his weapons and took his jacket off to show his vest. “Shame you don’t have running shorts, Edgar,” Plumley remarked. “Off you go.” He opened the door as Edgar warmed up and the lithe human raced out in a cross country run. Plumley mostly closed the door again and watched as the Human raced off.

Tilloch made sure his weapons were ready and moved to the door. “Ah’m yer scoot,” he grumbled.

“Scoot what,” Hawle asked.

“He said scout,” Dawton and Plumley said together. Plumley opened the door again and the Mican carefully led the way out, going in a different direction to the Human. The others followed, Dawton trying to call the ship.


“Has anyone noticed,” Match pointed out as the ship closed the distance between themselves and the opposing ship, “that, whenever we park in orbit over the capital of a colony, the Militia’s always out on manoeuvres and we can’t call them?”

“Noted,” Raven said simply. “Time until the shuttle arrives?”

“Twenty seconds. Docking in thirty.”


Jarra sat back down in the co-pilot’s seat and strapped in again before the shuttle twisted sideways. “I preprogrammed the teleport system, sweetie,” he stated. “It’ll send you direct to the launch bay.”

“Thanks, Jarra,” Maze replied, licking her teeth as she concentrated and skimmed another shot inbound as she slalomed around the Loper to bring the shuttle in at unsafe speeds, landing in the shuttle bay with something of a whump. “And don’t call me sweetie, handsome,” she added, giving Jarra a swift kiss before running towards the back and engaging the teleport system.

“I’ll just do the after flight then,” the deck chief told no-one before running through the checks.


Maze arrived in an empty hanger, save for her own fighter. She was, reluctantly, thankful that she was already in most of her flight suit, with only the helmet to add as she ran to collect the helmet and rejoin her flight outside. “Skip the spinning wheels,” she told the deck team before getting in and connecting her helmet systems up before launching.


“At last,” Raven stated, watching Maze fly past. “Get us into the fight. Shields up and three quarters speed forward.” She heard the responses from the stations and ordered attack pattern Hawle four. Sarah complied and the weapons officer fired.


“No reply from the ship,” Dawton whispered to Hawle as they made their way through the under brush and trees in the park, heading towards the far exit as much as anything. It didn’t help, of course, that Tilloch didn’t actually know where he was going, he was just avoiding any hint of Lappinean scent. He’d commented that he’d worked out how to filter Hawle out and Hawle hadn’t quite worked out if he was being insulted or not. His ear tweaked to the left and he gestured for the others to be silent as they moved. It was inevitable, he assumed, that someone was going to make a noise sooner or later. At least there was no wind to give their position away. He picked up a small stick and hurled it away to the left to clatter down the slope to that side. Harmony moved forward with the others.

Dawton started as the tree next to him splintered as a bolt hit it, “I think they’ve found us,” Dawton advised rhetorically.

“Get yuirselves oota here,” Tilloch stated, turning to cover the others. “Straight on fer the door! Ye get on, lassie,” he told Harmony, who’d turned to join him as he pulled his ceremonial knife. “Ainly one’s needed fer this,” He headed into the woods as she joined the others in leaving. She heard the shooting start a few minutes later and told the others as they made the gate.

“He’ll catch up,” Hawle said, before noting Dawton still had a bag with him. It had ears sticking out of it. “What IS that, Dawton?”

“Show you later, sir,” the Human replied as a vehicle accelerated down the road at them. Stikka, having downloaded a plan of the town, directed them down an alleyway as the vehicle waited for a few minutes before pursuing them on foot. The occupants rounded a corner and Hawle dropped on the rearmost Lappinean from a second storey balcony, his boots impacting the males shoulders dramatically, pushing them both out of socket before he flipped backwards and landed in fighting position, launching himself into the upper chest of the assailant as the others turned around and exposed themselves to direct fire from Harmony and Stikka. Hawles’ target hit a wall headfirst and slipped to the floor, leaving a trail of blood as he fell.

Hawle glanced back towards the vehicle. Not occupied. But there were people coming from the park, even as the response vehicles were beginning to arrive. There were Lappineans included. “I hope you’re still fighting, Kirkin,” he said before leading the others away.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Petition to see Hawle in more fight scenes because that was awesome and something I didn't expect. Of course I have several OTHER petitions which I started that you seem to be ignoring. LOL

[Welsh Halfwit]

57


The Loper fired into the hull of the Lappinean ship, only to see the shot slap against the enemy hull, showing a glow on the screens before dulling back into darkness as the fighters flew at each other like fireflies, sparkling fire twinkling between the forces. Sarah pushed the Loper to the side to dodge out of the Lappineans firing line and incoming energy scrammed the shield as she pushed back into an attack vector to enable the gunnery officer to take another shot.


After the Captain had led the others off, Kirkin took to the bushes, looking to keep the line clear and buy the others time to escape with the information they needed to put a stop to tha’ bluidy Raitchians plot to create super soldiers. It wasn’t like he was opposed to supreme beings like in the old Comic Books. Those Marvellous Captains for example. But he knew they’d likely only give it to those that could be controlled or slavishly believed in the ideals of the donor or donor state. They were going to be used as weapons, he was sure of it. He’d seen the reports on Jenny Miles, who’d been given her sonic powers by accident. She used them as concussive sonic blasts under her control and she was a good one. If she were to be a weapon of the state? Kirkin cold imagine the devastation if she were to, say, applaud at an enclosed event. How many would have their eardrums blown out and that was if their internals weren’t liquefied by the assault. And she could walk through any weapons detectors without complaint. More… Less noise, he told himself. The first of them was coming in. From where he was, hidden behind the tree, this was going to be his one free shot. They’d make him pay for everything after this. He drew his firearm and thanked Harmony silently for getting it through customs. Time to do something customary… He fired at the back of the assailants’ head and was already moving before the beam struck the tree on the other side of the head, letting the victim fall forward to the ground. Weapons fire spattered around him, clipping his shoulder and, otherwise, sailing several inches above his head. For the moment he had the advantage of they didn’t know he was a Mican. But that wasn’t going to last.


Maze pushed home her attack on the pilot she believed was the opposition flight leader and tried to break him off from the back up. She wondered if that was sexist, her thinking that the opposition leader was a male? No, she mused, Lappineans still had eighty to ninety percent males in the higher ranks. It wasn’t exactly a sexist society but it was still a breeder society. You couldn’t get a pregnant senior officer, she told herself as she slewed around to port as a Lappinean fighter tried latching on. Where, she wondered, was Alpha five? Her wingman, who was supposed to be watching her rear. Ah, trying to fight off two assailants and failing. She lanced into the battle unexpectedly, lacerating and exploding one of the attackers before pulling a hard, z-axis, turn and struggling to stay conscious. It’d only take a moment for the thrusters to realign but it was enough to see Alpha three explode in the vacuum before the headache started as g-forces took effect. The helmet administered a counteragent to allow her to stay right and she rolled starboard as the computer warned her of someone locking on. She realigned and redeployed her forces to punch a hole in the Lappineans’ defence.


Raven wondered what Hawle would do right now? What opening would he take or pass up as the fight progressed and the ship rocked again. Match reported the shields were at thirty percent. It seemed the Lappineans had stepped up their intent since Darena Core. Now they were shooting to kill. She had the weapons officer… Beedle, she thought their name was, fire on the starboard shield generator, as identified by scans. She watched as their fire struck the opposition shielding. And again. And again. Three strikes was all could be managed as Sarah shifted sharply about the central axis, making everyone thankful they were strapped to their seats.


The crying in the secure room after the twist didn’t last long but had descended into groans and moans as Doctor Dack and Nurse Webley moved amongst them, checking on broken bones and tails and, in one case, a broken neck that rendered treatment pointless. Andros himself had managed to grip his chair with one hand and the wrist of the nice Mican girl as the ship had tipped so they’d managed to hang on until the gravitational system managed to realign itself and she thanked him for saving her life. He just smirked and told her that it was one all. They’d have to do a decider. He let her go to help with helping the others before he pulled his fingers free from the back of the seat and looked at the dents.


Kirkin held his shoulder as he stepped away from the body of a Lappinean who’d almost made it to the fence after the others and put his blade away as a shot struck his leg, knocking him over onto his back and he fired up from the ground, making his latest attacker fall back as he tried to reach protection How much time had he brought the others, he wondered? Five minutes? An hour? It didn’t matter. Regaining his clan’s honour and protecting his crew was all so he had to defend the gate as long as possible. He fired back at his attacker and ducked down as shots chipped away at the tree he was lying behind. He was finding it difficult to shoot straight now. Heck, he was finding it difficult to SEE straight now. Plus he was getting cold. It couldn’t be far off now, he thought. He could hear roaring. It must be the last few minutes that he’d been told about.


Actually, he thought, a few seconds later, it was taking too long. He couldn’t make things out but the roaring had stopped, to become a rhythmic series of clumps and calls with a series of swirling lights that spoke of…


The Loper juddered as the Lappinean ship continued firing on her, lacerating the shields and causing fractures in the interior that Katara worked to seal, with Jan, who smelled quite a bit like a Raitchian plumber today, the Vixen noted, assisting. She resisted the urge to tell her best friend – some would say her only friend – that she should keep her distance from the shipjumper as she liked Kavanagh well enough for one and she was having similar thoughts about another ship jumper. Plus things could end all too easily so you sought comfort where you could and… This bulkhead was about to go. She called out to the others in the area and put Januvitski over her shoulder and, despite her recent injury, still beat the Human’s best time for four hundred metres, making it to the bulkhead shortly before it closed, trapping two of her engineers in the section that blasted out into space before the forcefields could skim in to stop them.


Match reported incoming.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Looks like those two engineers are dead if they got blasted out into space from the bulkhead that gave way so there are casualties there. But other than that it looks like nobody IMPORTANT has died so far.

[Welsh Halfwit]

58

Hawle pulled the vehicle up close to the central Police station, stripping the gears by accident as he did so, and got the others out of the car.
“I’m telling Sarah you can’t drive,” Dawton warned as they headed up the steps, flanked by officers getting out of the following cars and pulling weapons on them. Orders were yelled about standing still and not moving and, as Hawle decided he couldn’t remember if these weapons had stun settings or not, he indicated the others should sit on the steps.

“What IS in that bag, Dawton,” Hawle asked as police surrounded them. “Never mind, tell me later.” He looked up at the Officer closest to him. “Does it look like we’re resisting? If we were looking to evade you, why would we have driven to your central Police station?”

“To bomb it? To attack it? Put your hands behind your back.”

“...You have a point,” Hawle conceded, doing as requested. “But I think I need to point out that fi...four of us are U.S.C. Officers…”

“That can be discussed inside, with the duty Investigator!”

“And she’s an IOC Officer,” he finished, nodding at Harmony. The officer nodded to his underlings and one affixed the cuffs as the other searched for her ID. He pulled it free and scanned it to confirm.

“Then she goes in cuff free,” the Sergeant mentioned, getting the other to take the restraints off as the groups belongings were taken. “Inside.”


“This is my first time being arrested,” Gilly complained as they sat in the secure area, waiting for someone to come and speak with them after conversing with Agent Whitestar. “Don’t they usually put us all in small rooms and give us bad coffee?”

“We’re restrained and in custody,” Stikka told her, “not under arrest so to speak. They’re wondering what to do with us. Hopefully Harmony should be able to talk to them.”

“Hope she does it soon,” Dawton put in, sitting with a sleeping Hawle across his lap.

“I wonder what happened to Kirkin,” Gilly said quietly.

“Oh, I can tell you that,” Stikka told her, with a grin. “Local secure channels aren’t that secure. Especially inside their firewall. I just tied in. Local paramedics found three dead Lappineans and one badly wounded Mican at the park. He’s on the way to hospital. And there’s a firefight in orbit. Our ship against a Lappinean.”

“Who’s winning,” Hawle asked, not opening his eyes.


Raven fired a bolt directly into the chest armour of a Lappinean intruder and watched as the full power blast spiderwebbed his armour from the close range and worked on cooking the person inside with the deployed heat. The impact knocked the creature down and Match, standing close to where the creature landed, stamped a hole in the armour to keep her down. The Raitchian recoiled from a punch to the face before the Celican guard that had been outside the bridge repelled his boarder into a wall and swung him at Match’s opponent, staggering the pair of them. Sarah ducked under the swing of an opponent before bringing Polva’s present to her into play. He’d bought it when she’d announced she was heading back to the ship and he’d wanted her protected so it was time to bring the carbon steel knife into play and she stuck it into one of the exposed joints in the armour, cutting deep into the under arm and shredding an artery before the opponent slapped her aside with an armoured gauntlet. It would bleed out if the suit couldn’t stop it but he had no time to finish the human off as Raven lifted him above her head with both hands, roared as only she could and slammed him headfirst into the deck. It wasn’t a wound he could walk off. Or survive as his head compressed into his shoulders, breaking his neck.


The weapons officer continued firing as the fighting there subsided.


Darvell fell backwards and to the ground as he was punched across the face by an assailant. He fired upwards as he fell, clipping one of the helmets on his way down as Rakkel suplexed another another and fired to distract the one that had hit Darvell. She pushed the other into the wall panel with the controls for the security fields guarding the cells. Wilde launched himself into the fray, charging down one of the Lappineans. Darvell staggered as his firearm dropped across the floor when his leg was swept from under him. He drew his shokstik and did his best to fight on.


Pangal wondered why they weren’t using much in the way of firepower in their attack here. Was is to ensure the capture of the ship intact? Well, as intact as it could be considering the fact the ship was trying to knock seven bells out of them from outside. She fired a suppressing bolt and watched it stagger one of the attackers around engineering back several feet. Due to the distance, the Lappineans’ armour managed to shrug the bolt off and it returned fire, punching into the ersatz barricade before security team two arrived behind the assailants.


Katara stabbed a steel screwdriver into the neck armour of the Lappinean that had landed in security and pulled it out, complete with the gore of the interior it was stained with. “Bloody substandard armour,” Katara spat as the figure dropped dead to the floor. “Shouldn’t have let me look at samples earlier, should you,” she asked the corpse, before kicking it in the stomach. She had no mercy for the assailant as he’d managed to kill Isleborough before Katara had gotten to the scene. She’d have them teleport the thing to space later but, for now, she shoved it into a corner, away from vital parts in case of explosion. She returned to her console to keep the power running to all points as a grenade blasted the passageway outside.


Outside, the Militia closed in on the action with three clipper class ships and a Passant class light cruiser that had just received their orders on who to engage in this. Who they had to get to back off and they were acting accordingly, targetting the Lappinean ship in the fight.


Rakkel couldn’t get to Darvell in time as she was fighting a third Lappinean that had entered the security office to back their forces up. She put a shokprod into the chest armour as her gun was recharging and it did pretty much nothing but she was able to flip him like she had the other one after stopping the hydraulic punch with her Varkonian strength but she wasn’t going to be able to defend Darvell as the assailant fighting him drew a pistol from his armour and pointed it at the canine on the floor as Wilde was still strangling his own attacker.


A shot rang out, the compressed beam from Darvell’s dropped weapon firing into the side of the Lappineans helmet and juddering its target at the knees before the bolt cracked through the other side of the helmet and scorched the wal before the power pack gave out. The Lappinean prisoner stood, gun in hand as Wilde threw his into a secure cell and hit the shield generator to trap him in. “They made me a suicide bomber,” the Lappinean said sourly. “Not sue I’d survive a rescue.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Well at least the suicide bomb Lappinean managed to explain to the others how he wasn't going to be getting out of this one. That was honestly really good of him and when he does blow himself up hopefully the shield generator will end up holding.

[Welsh Halfwit]

He never knew he was a suicide bomber. The faceplates were designed to explode if the ship had to leave. Katara had managed to remove it in the first fight so his wasn't one inch from his face when it went off.

[Welsh Halfwit]

59


Gilly sat on the bench outside the office with the others from her group and swung her feet idly as she waited for the meeting inside to conclude. “This feels like being called to the principal’s office,” she told no-one in particular. “Then the principal calls your parents in to tell them what you’ve done.”

“If we’re the kids it’s two adoptees and you’re from mum’s previous partner,” Stikka told her, a little annoyed at being blocked from the local vidchannels by a paywall so all he could get was the free to air news channels, which were merely hinting at the breaking story of bloodbath in a local park as nothing was happening in orbit. The Militia certainly weren’t chasing away a Lappinean battle cruiser that had opened fire on a U.S.C. vessel without warning. No, the Racon imagined the Humans were going to keep that under wraps and only drag it out when they had to ‘negotiate’ with their Lappinean neighbours. There was already speculation that it was a location action scene for a film with micro cameras and drones. The chatter had started in the slightly edgier part of the local servers and was gaining traction as he watched. Probably Plumley and his people. “Anything from the stars, Dawton?”

“Not with the jamming signal, sir,” the Human replied. “I’m sure they’ll let us know.”


In the conference room, Hawle and Whitestar had been telling the story of ambushes and firefights to the Human minister of security, the commander of the local militia and, via a secure line that could defy the jammer signal, Postain on Cora II. Aldair had requested the Sector Chief be involved as he pretty much knew all the events surrounding this anyhow so could leap in and say ‘that’s classified’ with far more authority than Hawle could. After half an hour, things had settled, with the Lappinean ship booking it out of orbit shortly after the Human Militia had entered the fight. Hawle had appreciated that and considered it bitterly. One of the pivotal things about being part of a navy is you had people who could assist you close by. Somehow he never had that. And none of their fighters had been left behind to blow up this time, which was an improvement. He was sure someone would have told him if anyone had blown up on his ship. Probably. As it was, Postain was giving a potted account of the events, stating the Loper was investigating a biological weapon the Raitchians were creating and he must have come to Persephone for information.

“What sort of information,” Baldi asked Hawle directly.

“I had a friend,” Hawle told the security minister. “High in Raitchian Intelligence and with a fair amount of dirt on the current administration . I went to him for help but he was killed. Last thing he said was the location of his ‘black book’.”

“His database,” Harmony chipped in.

“Yes, that. It was located with a friend of his here on Persephone. I came to collect it to learn names. Of course, I didn’t know until we got there that my people had included newly traceable compounds in their hulls so they can track us now we’re harder to trace.”

“You’ll explain that, I know,” the Militia commander, Sarah Dewar, stated.

“Yeah. They blew up one of their fighters near enough the hull that some of it’s fuselage penetrated the hull.”


Ten minutes passed before Hawle was allowed to call up to the ship. In that time, Katara had been dispatching her repair crews and getting maintenance crews for the less essential areas. She’d seen Jan get Kavanagh from the secure room and ‘hadn’t’ seen the kiss he’d given her before they got to work repairing systems and conduits. She kinda liked the lad and she wasn’t going to intrude on happiness of her best friend. She’d just interrogate her over it the next time they had coffee. She had her own friend to grab and set to work so she hardly noticed the medical teams entering the secure room as she passed for the security office and entered. “Things OK in…” She noted the medic helping Darvell, Rakkel standing in the middle of the room, Wilde sat on his bunk and… “What is THAT doing out of it’s cell,” she stormed, pointing to the Lappinean.

Rakkel stepped forward to block her. “Auntie Katara…”

“I had to fight that guy,” she protested, trying to reach past the younger, stronger, vixen. “And his friend killed Isleborough!”

“And he chose to shoot that guy,” Rakkel told her, pointing to the drilled Lappinean, “when he was trying to kill Darvell. Then he gave the gun back.”

Katara looked at the prisoner with anger. Then she looked, wide-eyed, at the corpse and then back at Rakkel before pushing her aside and standing in front of the prisoner with cuffs on. “Why,” she demanded.

He looked at her with a quite hollow expression. “Finding out you’re a suicide bomber and you don’t know it is quite an eye-opener.”

Katara let the words in past her anger and tried to contemplate them. She had to admit they might have a point but she still wanted to rip his throat out and… “Stay out of my way or I’ll make you suffer.” She turned around to Wilde. “Come on, Terry,” she stated, “rest’s over.”

The Wolf grinned and followed her out of the room.

“He’s in trouble, isn’t he,” the Lappinean asked.

Rakkel chuckled.


<“We’ll be back up shortly,”> Hawle told Raven. <“Make sure the ship’s still flyable, would you?”>

“We’ll do our best,” Raven replied. “How’s the team down there?”

<“Mostly OK,”> Hawle replied. <“Kirkin’s in the hospital, being treated for several wounds he got when helping us escape an ambush. They state he’ll be fine after some time. They had Mican blood in storage. One of the hospital backers adopted a Mican so they wanted stockpiles….”>


“...just in case. Maze can pick us up from this location,” he added, sending new co-ordinates before closing the link. “Dawton,” he asked.

“Sir?”

“Let’s see the toy.” Hawle had a feeling he knew what the slightly torn thing was. He was certain of it. It had his ear colour and… He looked into a large stuffed toy’s eyes and had to appreciate the work that had gone into this plush version of himself, wearing a uniform that bore quite a resemblance to himself. They’d obviously taken it from the ‘game card’ as his boots were wrong. An ear was torn. “I think Elena will love it,” he said simply, wondering if he could sue anybody.

[Welsh Halfwit]

The trick with this story is I don't want it to end in a whopper of a battle. That's where Chanderra comes in. He's as cunning as Hawle. It's a game of strategy between them...

60


Cedar Kirkwall accepted the last of the supplies he’d managed to get from Persephone on an ad hoc basis and had them put into stasis in cargo bay two, frozen Chickens and pasta pieces mingled with rice pudding and a surprising amount of Clotted cream Ice cream that he didn’t actually recall ordering when he’d sent the list to Commander Raven. Talaxar finished counting in the Digestive biscuits and the bags of sprouts and grits and came over to check with his boss. “Do we need this many sprouts,” he asked. “They’re only tiny cabbages, after all. Do humans really like them? I hear they make them pass wind?”

“Apparently they’re needed for some of their religious ceremonies, Tal,” Cedar told him. “It tends to go with Turkey but no-one breeds them out here so we go with the lesser bird.” He shifted aside as a technician edged past, on their way to finish the repairs in the room. “Plus they can be used in Roast Dinners…”

“Fiddly.”

“...soups…”

“Boring.”

“...stuffing up the backsides of roast Celicans…”

“Kinky.”

Kirkwall smirked slightly, showing his flatter side teeth. “C’mon,” he said, “let’s check the drink section.”

“We have a drink section?”


Jaqui looked at Rakkel over her desk and tried to keep her tone level after reading the action report in which her almost daughter had detailed the fight in the holding area and extolled the effort of the prisoners in saving the day. “So you think we can trust the Lappinean,” she said simply, putting the padd on the table and looking up at her officer.

“I think he decided that he’s better off here than there, Chief,” Rakkel replied, keeping her hands behind her back and standing to attention.

“You might be right,” Jaqui conceded, “but I’m reminded that, sometimes, a spy will do something against their own side to get in with the enemy. So I can’t be sold on a sudden defection. Might get Harvey to do a sweep of his mind when he’s out of the medical bay.” She noted the frown on the youngster’s face. “There was a blowout of screens in the tech centre. He’s not badly injured but he’s in the med centre.”


“You didn’t have to stay up here,” Night told Doctor Dack as the Human assisted with triage in the sickbay and Doctor Fuze buzzed about, fixing sprains and knocks. They’d lost five in the fight in the room, part of the butcher’s bill but Night found she appreciated the help from a senior medical officer, even a guest.

“I’m a part time militia member, Night,” Dack replied, finishing up the setting of a Celican’s ankle with the help of the systems. The patient gasped but gingerly managed to stand a few minutes after. “I head the medical division. Where else would I be? Stay off that for a few hours,” she told her patient. “I won’t be here to help if you return but I’m sure Night or Bazil will make you suffer.”

“Like Night in a glass box, surrounded by cheese,” Bazil commented.

“That made sense in your head, didn’t it,” Night demanded. She exhaled. “Corncobs.”

“Oh, you’d bring that up…” Bazil moved over to where Harvey was out cold, sedated so they could sort out the wounds between patients. He ran scans and started work to extract the next small shard of console. “No,” he said, “I’m not telling you what that was about.” He put the tweezers down and used the digital lance to close the small wound. “Aff, you’re supposed to be unconscious, please shut up so I can work on you?”

“Is Doctor Fuze quite sane,” Dack asked, concerned at the fact that the Raitchian seemed to be arguing with a comatose squirrel. She was now treating a Mican with a broken arm.

“Yeah,” Night replied lightly. “Harvey often talks in his sleep.”


“So,” Sarah said to Andros as they helped pick up the pieces in the cartography lab, “now you’ve seen where I work?”

Andros helped her move a fallen cabinet to the side so others could go past with more important things to do. “Yeah” he stated, indicating the cabinet. “Didn’t expect it to be so old school, though?” He smiled. “Actual maps?”

“Blame Lieutenant Gallaway,” Sarah replied, moving long headfur – which she didn’t have – out of her eyeline as she looked at him. “He likes to have hard copies of everything we scan if he can get it. He says hardcopies don’t get computer viruses!”

Andros chuckled at that and righted a chair that had fallen over before picking up some of the loosed documents.

“Just put them in a neat pile,” Sarah said, stooping close to help. “Let the boss sort them out.” She realised how close she was to him and was going to back away when he spoke

“Sarah,” he asked, looking her in the eye. “How old are you?”

She stopped for a second, a little thrown by the question. “Uh, um… Sev...seventeen, why?”

“Can...can I kiss you?”

She pondered the question for a few seconds and he was about to back out when she answered. “How old are you,” she asked in return.

“Thirteen,” he said.

“Legal age for Raitchians,” she replied with a smile. Then she kissed him for several seconds before they had to break it up and get back to cleaning things. Andros picked up the nearest piece of debris and Sarah called his attention to it. It was another full filing cabinet. “Shouldn’t that be too heavy,” she asked, not quite crediting what she was seeing.


“How are the repairs,” Hawle asked, stepping onto the bridge as Stikka and the others took time off to recharge.

Raven, walking with him, had asked about Kirkin and the events down on the colony on the way from the shuttle bay, where Hawle had told her that he was now banned from the colony for a year, Kirkin was going to survive although he might not be able to keep his right arm so he’d have to have a prosthetic and he’d likely want a weapon installed in it. The Humans hadn’t quite learned what the current situation was but they’d been very interested in having material for ‘diplomacy’ in their arsenal. He hadn’t bothered to tell them that they already had them so they’d gotten away with that.

“We’ll be ready to go in an hour, according to Katara,” Raven remarked. “What are the plans now?”

“Well, on the downside,” Hawle agreed, “they’ve had some time to evacuate but now we know the name of the person we’re looking for. Let’s go pick him up.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

So they know who they have to go after and bring back now so that should make it a bit easier for them to start closing this mission. I am sure Hawle has an idea of where to find this person so it probably will make things start to move faster now.

Also I wanted to comment on the other chapter but I couldn't so I spent a good portion of the night last night thinking of way to eviscerate the bots causing all the errors but if Hawle wants to sue, my head canon is that Elena has a cousin who is a shark (not metaphorically) of a lawyer.

[Welsh Halfwit]

A buck who passes the buck...

61


“So now we actually ARE on route to Zeema,” Raven asked Hawle as he sat in his office, feet on the desk, watching the 3d picture of space go by on his interior wall and wondering when he’d last turned that thing on. She wasn’t expecting an answer quickly as he seemed lost in the stars for a moment, before shaking his head and bringing himself back into the room.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry, Sarina. Well, that’s certainly what’s on our flight log, isn’t it? Especially after that last dust up?”

“So, we’re NOT going to Zeema,” Sarina stated, wondering if she should do the insubordinate thing and sit down so he could explain things to her. She decided that she might as well. “Why not,” she asked as she sat.

“Please,” he replied, friendly tone edged by sarcasm as he gestured with the palm of a hand, “make yourself comfortable.” He waited until she’d settled before he brought up a model of the hospital on Zeema. “We’d have to assault that place to find the correct doctor, Sabrina. It’s a Raitchian civilian hospital that also treats their military in the area. They have armed security and, it’s believed, a military detachment there. Any attack would be a bloodbath.”

“That still doesn’t explain why we’re not going there,” Sarina pointed out. “We have to go there soon.”

“Mmmmmaaybe not,” Hawle drawled, liking the sound of consideration. “I had a thought after we left Darena Core. We had no clue who we were looking for but Roebuck might know. So I set things in motion. Zeema’s a civilian hospital, as I said. All the Doctors are civilians. Their movements are logged and listed. So, after my meeting with Chanderra, I altered the play. I got Chanderra to warn his government that we were coming. Give them time to transfer all their important people to other locations.” He grinned slightly. “As we had no way to know who we were looking for at the time and they knew it, they moved them to other hospitals. All registered, legal and accessible by U.S.C. medical.”

“You’ve had Hawthorne keeping an eye on the transfers?”

Hawle looked shocked, appalled even, and put a hand on his chest to express it. “Not at all, Raven,” he protested. “I had her make her C.M.O. do it. With the information from Roebck’s vault that points us to…”

“Doctor Cheyla Queezle,” Raven cut in.

“...Doct… How did you do that,” Aldair asked, his face in confusion enough to make Raven smirk slightly as she adjusted her position in the seat and swung her tail playfully.

“Doctor Barleycorn found a blood specialist on Persephone,” Raven told him. “Had her brought aboard to study the reports on Andros… I know you said he wasn’t to set foot on a colony but the Doctor was brought up here in strict security. She identified the ‘signature’ of the lead doctor. Then she got involved in the medical escapades after the firefight.”

“Did we drop her off before we left,” Aldair asked, suddenly a little concerned about having a undocumented stranger on board. Which, considering he had a Raitchian boy, a Feline nurse, a Raitchian plumber and a Wolven engineer that he’d not started with… Oh, and a Lappinean prisoner. Well, it was probably past time to be worried about spies.

“According to the abusive mails Night’s sent me,” Raven stated, quirking an eyeridge as she read from the padd, “no. Night’s putting her up.”

“I suppose I’d better go say sorry for your mistake,” Hawle told her, swinging his feet to the ground as Raven glared at him. “Well, of course it’s your mistake,” he declared innocently. “the Captain’s never to blame.”

“I know where I should shove that stuffed…” Raven grumbled before Hawle left the room.


Night sat back in her main chair and found she was quite enjoying talking to her current house guest about medics they both knew, procedures they’d carried out, mistakes made and pranks carried out on individuals who’d needed taking down a step or two. It wasn’t the same with Bazil as his recollections were all very recent and, he’d never been the sort to play pranks on people. Indeed, he was the type people pranked. So chatting with Dack was refreshing, even if she did need to give up her spare room and clear the stuff she’d stored in there. Plus the Human had a tolerance for Raitchian food, having spent several months on a Raitchian colony a few years back so she’d ordered in and… That was the door She put the glass of fruit wine down and called for the door to open.


Hawle stepped in and found he didn’ have to tell Night not to get up as she wasn’t going to anyhow. “Good evening, Aldair,” she said, being informal as she was off duty – very off duty – and this was her home.

“Night,” he replied, “may I come in?”

“You’re on this side of the door, Aldair, you’re in already. Have you met Doctor Dack? She’s the Doctor you’re going to blame Sarina for abducting.”

“Remind me to make sure you have a detox pill if you need it.” He looked to Dack. “She gets chippy when tipsy.” He offered a hand that she accepted. “Commander Aldair Hawle captain of this fine vessel. Delighted to meet you.

“Doctor Gillian Dack,” the Human replied, “Chief Phlebotomist for Persephone and accidental space tourist.”

“Ah,” Aldair grinned with embarrassment. “I have to apologise about that. And I’d never blame Raven,” he added, in a tone that made it clear to Night that he was lying. “We’ll ensure you’re able to return to Persephone as soon as possible. But I understand you identified the Doctor responsible for, uh, the current situation?”

“Yes,” she replied, “I know of his work. I worked once with a student of his. It’s like a fingerprint… OK,” she chuckled as he waved furred and padded fingers in front of her, “a geneprint. Literally in this case. Night told you that it seems it’s the full package, designed to ‘dissolve’ into the carrier after a fortnight or so?”

“She did.”

“And she’s told you the power levels are flaring?”

He frowned. “How so?”

Dack turned to Night, who hiccuped. “Night, can you bring up the thing from the secure room? You know, what we looked at earlier. Night managed to bring up the footage of the turn, Andros holding Sarah with one hand as he gripped the fixed seat with the other until the turn stopped and things righted.

“Am I watching two youngsters about to make out or something,” Hawle asked.

“Or something,” Dack explained. “His grip damaged the chair it was so strong.”

“How..?” He looked at the Human. “Super strength?”

[Amazee Dayzee]

If someone has THAT powerful a grip on something sturdy like a chair then it is obvious that there is a lot more than the normal strength at play there honestly. They definitely put something in him that makes steroids look like baby aspirin if he could mutilate a chair.

[Welsh Halfwit]

62


“The problem,” Hawle mused to himself as he sat in his bedroom, feet hanging off the side of the bed, “is not outwitting a government as that’s rather easy. Just make a threat here, carry out an attack there… by the goddesses, I’m sounding like a pirate… They’ll react and, if you’re smart you can judge how they will react and they’re following your say so. The problem is Captain Chanderra. He’s almost as smart as I am and he’s the real opposition. He knows much of what I’m up to so what moves has he made? I need to know and…”

<“I returned from the toilet three minutes ago,”> the voice of Hawthorne Plebar said from the screen, the circle in the middle of the screen pulsing with light as she spoke and she turned the camera back on.

“Why do you turn your camera off when you go to the loo, Hawthorne?”

<“Because I want you to know I’ve gone to the loo.”>

“Saying ‘I need the loo, I’ll be back in three’ works too, y’know?” Hawle drank from his soft drink.

<“Too pointed,”> Hawthorne replied from her Command cabin aboard the Savval. <“So you rate this Captain Chanderra then?”>

“Yeah.” Hawle lay back on the bed and the monitor shifted so it was looking down on him from above. “he’s old school like Postain but he has a brain like me…”

<“You know these calls are recorded and can be viewed by control if needed?”>

“He likes it when I insult him,” Hawle breezed, waving a hand. “I think I’ve gotten a handle on Chanderra but he’s crafty enough that it could be a feint. He could either be a best friend, a worst enemy or both. Anyhow,” he asked, “Has Doctor Quella managed to trace the Zeema transfers?”

<“Yes,”> Hawthorne said languidly. <“Although I’m not fond of you using her as a spy, Aldair.”>

“I didn’t,” Hawle protested, putting a hand on his chest to prove his innocence. “She’s the C.M.O. of a medical specialist ship. That gives her pull as you’re under the direct command of Postain and the Council Medical Service so you can access medical transfer orders…”

<“...where you can’t . I KNOW what we can do, Aldair,”> Hawthorne reproached, <“I’ll have her send the details over. Who’s your mini-me, by the way?”>

Hawle looked to one side, where the plushy version of himself was lying on the bed and he pretended he’d not known it was there. “Oh, that? It’s an unlicensed product Dawton picked up on Persephone. I’m going to get legal to look into it at some point but I think Elena will like it. I don’t know about the quality, though.”

<“Hold the tag up,”> Hawthorne remarked. <“I can probably identify the contents if they’re listed.”>

Aldair held the tag up, realised what was happening and dropped the toy. “You’re copying the galnet address!”

Hawthorne laughed. <“Got the screenshot!”> She cut the line.


The morning came and Aldair had breakfast in Cedar’s place, thinking over his plans. He’d had thought of destroying the hospital on Zeema but that had never been a serious consideration… well, after he’d seen how difficult it would be anyhow but now he really needed to find this Doctor and get him on board to remove the stuff from Andros’s blood. He knew a little about superstrength, mainly from the movies, and having someone who could rip bulkheads apart with their bare hands wasn’t a good thing on a spaceship. Not to mention the fact that Bazil had indicated the first ‘wave’ had almost knocked the boy for a loop, started microwaving his room and shaking it like a telekinetic. He knew telekinesis was the worst. There were telepaths around – Harvey being one of them, but a telekinetic soldier, who could move mountains with their minds or pinch airways shut was a nightmare, even if they were trained. The untrained one could do it entirely by accident. He needed this out or, at least, stabilised. “Deep in consideration, sir,” Cedar said and Aldair wondered how long the chef had been standing there.

“How is it you always seem to be here, Cedar? Don’t you have a private life?”

“Tried that once,” the Mican stated, slipping into the chair opposite. “She sabotaged my souffle in the finals examination and now owns two restaurants on Micanna.”

“And you got here. So you won? Has she been invited to prepare menus for presidents and ambassadors?”

“Nope,” Cedar conceded, “she just goes on the vid every few days and sells her cooking vids. Weight of the universe on your shoulders?”

“Seems so.” He laid out the situation to the chef, who nodded along with each development.

“You’ve seen the fusion foods,” Cedar said in the end, “things mixed together that really shouldn’t go together but they work together because someone makes them. It’s almost like alchemy. When it works, of course.” He grimaced, perhaps thinking this was a bad simile to have raised. “Of course, when it doesn’t it’s tipped in the bin and they start from scratch again.”

“And some then go through the bin and take what they can get,” Hawle added, taking the pressure off Cedar’s bad simile.

“Eww,” Cedar grimaced, pulling back, exposing his teeth and tongue as he thought about the situation. “Never say that to me again!” He laughed and poked a finger towards the Commander. “And never tell Stikka to help me in the kitchen!”

Hawle chuckled about the idea of the Racon in the bins and intimated that Cedar needed to get back to work as Night and Dack came in for breakfast. He’d known they were coming, of course. It was why he was there.


After they’d ordered Grainbread and pancakes – and Hawle wondered what it was about pancakes and Humans, they joined him at table. “I understand you want me to look at something,” the Human asked, putting brown sweetener into her coffee and stirring it with a stick.
Hawle pushed overa padd. “These are the Doctor’s reassigned from Zeema,” he mentioned. “Can you make out which one is the Doctor we’re looking for?” The pictures of several candidates of several species came up and the Human flicked through them with curiosity before tapping on one. “Doctor Queezle. That’s him,” she said, indicating the Docker Raitchian. “I recognise the grey dots on his nose.”

“Not the one three pictures before,” Hawle asked innocently. “The one marked as Doctor Queezle in the legend?”

“What legend,” Night asked as Dack went back to examine another Docker Raitchian’s picture.

“The one I made sure wasn’t on there,” Hawle replied as Dack frowned. “You don’t know that one?” Dack told him she’d never seen this one before. “Figured not.” He huckled. “Nice one, Chanderra. This one got transferred by the Peygan...”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Always a treat to see Hawle teasing other people who work under him with stuff that he knows but hasn't told the others so he can keep things close to his vest. Good luck to the bad guys trying to figure out where the Peygan transferred the person they are interested in to.

[Welsh Halfwit]

63


The ship slid through space on route to their next destination as Katara and Wilde worked on the next stage of Hawle’s deception track in the cargo bay as Kavanagh made his way in and looked awkward as he waited for the Chief Engineer to notice him. She gave no sign, continuing to install codes. “Set it to Delta Four Two,” she told Terry. “Then install the data store like… so,” she continued, installing the transmission device. “Then…”

“...Close the hatch,” Wilde offered, closing it with a grin before Katara could order it.

“Exactly that and what do you want, Kavanagh?”

“Oh,” the plumber started, “I, um, uh…”

“It’s nothing to do with Jan, is it,” Katara questioned, making the Raitchian jump. Was it that obvious? “Um, no… no. Uh. I saw the, um… the boy we’re all after… THEY’RE all after… in the secure room, yes? I, um.. remembered something from back on the freighter?”

Wilde made to speak but Katara put out a hand to silence him. She could see that the Raitchian was frightened and she wanted to hear what he had to say on the matter.


Five minutes later, she had the youth saying it again, this time in front of the Captain and Doctor Barleycorn in the Captain’s office. His hands were shaking so she put a hand on his shoulder. “Calm yourself, Kavanagh,” she told him. “Just tell them what you told me.”
He swallowed and nodded. “It… it was just after we found out the, um, the security check had held us up too, um, long and the boy had gone? I recall the Captain saying that… that he was happy about it because, even though they SAID they had made the transfer stable now… the previous messages had, um…” He grimaced and spread his hands and fingers wide. “...exploded in transit.”

“Exploded,” Hawle repeated. The Raitchian nodded mutely. “Right. Any reason you’d not mentioned it before?”

“I, um, wasn’t face to face with the boy before so it, um, didn’t come to my mind.”

Hawle turned to Barleycorn, who thought on it. “Well, the scans of Andros when he was in his room did indicate enhanced agitation of the blood cells,” she supposed. “They were moving faster around his body, creating internal friction that was heating his blood and, apparently, the room around him…”

“Oh, great,” Kavanagh moaned, wondering if he’d done the right thing by jumping ship to save his soul.

“...but there was no notable flare up the second time it happened,” she continued. “In the safe room.” She glanced at the Raitchian. “Very close to you. Did you notice anything,” she asked. He didn’t answer. “So that seems to be settling. Although you should never bet on the first two tests being accurate. The third could be worse.”

“Oh, great,” Kavanagh said again.


“You’re not afraid,” Andros asked Sarah as they sat for breakfast. “I was concerned that what I did would…”

“Nah,” the Mican replied, spearing an egg with a piece of toast soldier. “Your secret’s are yours, Andros. And I don’t think you’d ever want to hurt me or anything. Plus, from what you told me, you probably don’t want people treating you different. Although..?”

His ears pricked up. Of all the words he knew, that one had come to be the most concerning as it was always the twist in the line, where someone shifted from one point of view to the contrary. “Although,” he asked tightly.

“You sure you don’t want to tell Doctor Fuze, at least?” She shifted around the table to put her arm around his shoulders. She leaned in and kissed him on the mouth as she saw a touch of anger in his eyes. She pulled back. “As I said, Andros, the secret is yours to tell but it’d probably be harder to hide it from him than anyone, yeah?”

Anrdos looked around his room and his eyes flitted to the padd that had the provisional offer of guardianship that Bazil was prepared to send off on it. He swallowed. He had to suppose she was right. He sighed. “Suppose I’d better,” he said, face down towards his breakfast beans.

“How was the sofa,” he asked.

She chuckled. “My first sleepover and I stay on the sofa. It was nice, though. I gotta go to work, Andros.” This time she kissed his forehead after standing. “You go tell Baz, yeah?”

“He hates it when I call him that,”

“Figured.” She tapped him with her tail as she turned and he knew it was deliberate as she left his quarters.


Darvell examined the Lappinean through the security field and made sure he said the right words as the male studiously ignored him. “I suppose I should thank you,” he said directly. “For saving my life in the last fight?”

The ear pricked up as the prisoner looked up from Darvell’s boots to his midriff. “Was I helping you or saving myself,” he asked, wringing his hands. “I’m pretty sure those that are considered suicide bombers aren’t welcome at the base bar on return. All that training and exercises…”

“Don’t tell me it’d all be for nothing.,” Darvell warned. “Someone being honest would say that but so would someone spying on us. Someone who won’t even tell us their name.”

The Lappinean smiled. “Oh there’s a reason for that,” he assured the Canine. “It generally causes conniptions in all who hear it and I have no intention of making people around here think worse of me, as they will do if they hear the name.”

“Rabbit of mystery, then?”

He leaned back on the bunk. “You know it, dawg! How’s your partner?” He glanced towards Darvell. “Part Varkonian, isn’t she?”

“For you to ask her, fellah.”

“Hmm,” he considered. “Must be a bit like coming home then, being back here on the ship that rescued her. Her I like.” He closed his eyes and started working on sleep. “Her I might tell my name.” He drifted off…


To come around in a dark room, lit only by one bright light. “Or you might tell me,” Harvey told him.

[Amazee Dayzee]

This was a fabulous chapter to the story as always and I did love how it came out! Keep up the good work on this story!

[Welsh Halfwit]

64


Captain Chanderra stepped back from the teleport mechanism as the so called Doctor was sent down to his new responsibilities at Ravon general and shivered as he thought ‘good riddance to bad rubbish’ as he watched the Doctor dissolve. He had no favourable thoughts about genetic experimentation, despite the benefits history had shown the sciences to have. They were messing with perfection and only the deities had the rights to do that. And that was if you believed in them and Chanderra didn’t. He understood religion and appreciated it’s ability to establish rules to be followed for society to rise but a risen society had determined it’s own rules and morals to live by and there was little purpose in holding the old ones sacrosanct. Although, of course, new laws were still replacing old thanks to involvement with the other races so it was beginning to come down to not what laws you wanted to obey but which laws your morals permitted you to obey? Was there a repugnance beyond the articles of military discipline? He had to wonder and he mused on this as he headed back to the bridge. “The Doctor’s on his way down now,” he told Yaktin as the taller Raitchian turned to see him. “Now we wait?”

“Wait,” Yaktin remarked with a question, feeling he was about to be humiliated again. He felt the Captain was contemptuous o the fact he came from money so his path through the command college had been a little easier in many ways but he’d been the Captain’s second-in-command for a year after rising through the ranks on other ships and he thought he’d proven himself over that time so why did the Captain always make him think he was a know nothing? “Shouldn’t we be heading back to Zeema? To be ready for the Loper’s arrival.”

“Out of my chair, Yak,” Chanderra mooted and the younger officer shifted sideways, allowing Chanderra to sit. “Hawle was never going to attack Zeema,” he explained at length. “He might have considered it at first but, come on, a moment’s thought – or conversation with Ambassador Una… Yes, he keeps an Ambassador on ship – probably to apologise for missteps – and he would have considered what it would look like. Come on, a U.S.C. ship attacking a hospital?” He shook his head. “Nope. Not happening. So he made use of us.”

“How s..?” Yaktin stopped himself. “He advised us of the threat so we’d advise command.” He rolled his eyes.

“He gave us time to follow procedure, yes,” Chanderra laughed. “If we hadn’t and he’d attacked, we’d rightfully get the blame.” He turned as the comms officer Widdowson approached and softly coughed. “If you’re ill, go see the Doc. If you have information, Widdowson, give it me.”
The comms officer handed over the padd to him. “Thank you,” Chanderra said, scrolling through. “Inquiry into blood specialists in the area for possible drafting to help with an outbreak on Valstarra III placed by…” He grinned. “Doctor Quokka. Chief Medical Officer. U.S.C. Savval.” He handed the padd back and laughed. “Oh, you crafty rabbit.” He turned back to Yaktin. “He had the Chief Medical Officer of his cousin’s ship ask the question of the medical authorities rather then the U.S.C. The Doctor’s civilian so they could do that. Hawle somehow knows who he’s looking for..?”

“Roebuck?”

“Possibly.” He used his armrest to replicate a cup of bitterin Coffee and sipped it quietly. “They switched identities for some of the Doctors but I’ll bet anything he’s looked through that… Now, what do we do about it?”


Hawle moved pieces around a physical board and pondered the next moves in a game of chess that was being played on a clue game board in many ways. The layout of the board most certainly wasn’t the standard board and more accurately resembled the floor plan of a building. A hospital. He’d thought of it several seconds after contacting Plumley to ask after Kirkin. The Mican wasn’t going to his clan reunion in the afterlife just yet, it seemed. He was a fighter. Hawle appreciated that. He’d also had a thought or two of how to get to this Doctor they were after and it was the escape after that was the trick. Chanderra would be watching, he knew that. One misstep and Chanderra would lock things down, assault the Loper and, possibly, capture Andros and leg it with him. Game over. And he wasn’t prepared to lose. So he had to plan whilst on route. Where was his option? What was his.. in? Maybe? Would that work?


Andros sat with Bazil, letting his guardian take readings and ask him questions about the changes and the shows of strength he’d told him about to see if he could get a lead on what was happening. Fuze had checked that there were no recorded spikes in temperature around Andros when the attacks – if they could be called attacks – had happened and their hadn’t been but there had been slight anomalies in pressure recorded that indicated… something. The Celican on the vid was moaning and writhing in bed and Bazil looked up. “Don’t try that unless you want a broken back,” he warned. “Our backs don’t bend like that.”

“Not sure hers does either,” Andros said, pausing the vid. “So, about Sarah..?”

“There’s a four year age gap,” Bazil advised him straight. “People are going to be uncomfortable with that. Andros,” he added, sitting next to the boy so he could put his arm around his shoulders. “Legally, you’re covered by ages of consents for both races but there’s always the court of morals.”

“Court of morals?” Andros looked at the other Raitchian quizzically.

“Yeah, people are gonna look at the two of you oddly. They’ll judge. My advice? Take it easy for now. No sleepovers…” He held up a hand as Andros made to protest. “Even if she’s on the sofa. Or YOU are,” he commented. “You should have offered her the bed, yeah?” Andros nodded. “Good. And do as much as you can together in public, not in your room. Take things slow, bud. Give everything time before you break your back, eh?”

“If I’m still here in a year,” Andros remarked unhappily, putting his hands together and looking down.

“Captain’s not going to give up on you,” Bazil told him. “Nor am I or everyone else.” He scritched the top of Andros’s muzzle. “So you’re not allowed to give up either, eh?” Andros hugged him and Bazil started running scans again.

“What’s that for,” Andros laughed.

“Your strength is acting up again,” Bazil claimed, strain in his voice. Andros released him and apologised. “It could be linked to emotions,” Bazil theorised.


The Loper drew closer to Doctor Queezle...

[Amazee Dayzee]

They need to get on TOP of Queezle and not just close to him because there is still a chance that he could slip through their fingers. I do like it when Hawle starts thinking strategically in times like these but I would also like it if he would eventually face plant in a mud puddle at some point.

[Welsh Halfwit]

65


The medical team on Rayvan readied themselves for an emergency situation that was being brought in by a United Security Council ship with all bells and whistles. The Fallir had picked up a Raitchian with VoWillan syndrome and, as rare at it was, there were no facilities on a military based clipper ship to treat the subject so they were bringing him in for treatment and inspection. The arrival was due soon so they’d set aside a bed in a private room as the bills had been paid and there were funds enough for a full round of care. The room had a food replication system with pre-programmed foods only permitted. The vid system had access to the premium channels. The nurses had been prepped and the Doctors notified. All that was needed now was for the Fallir to bring them the patient.


Doctor Queezle looked over his quarters and decided that he was going to get better ones in short order. He’d been used to better facilities on Zeema, not having his bed in the same area as his kitchen for one thing, but he supposed it would do in the very short run. It was certainly an improvement over his berth on the Peygan and he was quite thankful he’d only been there a couple of nights. Drat Goren, he thought bitterly. Drat him and his plans. Drat The Loper and… everything else.


Things had been going quite well until he’d gotten involved with Goren, an up and coming in intelligence. He’d had an idea. How to create powered people. Weapons undetectable to everything, even bio-scanners. Then the Lappineans had cottoned on. They’d interfered and Goren had told him they’d gone to desperate measures to get the intelligence out. He’d seen the danger immediately, of course. With the Lappineans listening for any comms traffic off Pastinna, they’d gone for a genetic transfer, with him being able to decode it when it got to him but… It hadn’t gotten to him, had it? No, somehow the Mad Rabbit had taken the message and he’d had to leave his prestigious job to take one here, at a minor job, to stay secure. He hated it. He hated that he’d be blamed if it failed, cast out here for the rest of his days. He might as well make himself comfortable. His job was already sorted and started at the hospital where he was, at least, indispensable. That flattered his ego, being the specialist in the room. The smartest person. He could live with that for now as he flicked through the listings of for rent apartments on the padd. He wasn’t unpacking. He wasn’t staying. Indeed, he thought, it was ironic that he’d thought that as his comm beeped.


The autodrive system piloted his little car through the colony streets as Queezle didn’t know his way around yet and didn’t want to ask any of his subordinates as it would be something he knew less about than they did. The vehicle practically spun around a left hand turn and Queezle wondered on the skill of the person they’d based the A.I. on, having been kept in his seat by applying the safety belt. He noted a shop he’d not seen the previous day. A furniture place. It looked like quite good stuff and he might look in when furnishing his new place. The colony was growing, he supposed, but it wasn’t exactly prime estate like Zeema had been. There was still desert here, unterraformed land where the government was renting terraform machines from Raicarra, Witherington and Fawren. But there were big pockets financing it as their holiday homes and places where the rules were lighter depending on the heft of your wallet. Anyway, he was here. The hospital building guard raised the barrier as he showed his temporary pass. The new one would be ready tomorrow, Personnel resources had told him. Zeema would have had it ready today.


He walked in, past the receptionist nurse and took the information from one of his minions that he’d not bothered to learn the name of. He looked at her name badge and thanked Nurse Kellanfor the information. A twenty-seven year old male with temperature of 130 and a pulse of one twenty-six over ninety. Not the greatest numbers. Several other symptoms were showing too and the first Doctor had checked the findings of the U.S.C. medic aboard the clipper. Queezle had no disrespect for the medics aboard ship but Clipper Doctors were not the most experienced medics around - well, with the exception of the medical clippers - and they didn’t have the right stuff and he reckoned he knew how to treat the inflammation. Apparently the patient has already had a seizure a fe hours ago so he sped up his walk towards the ward.


The press officer intercepted him on the way in and Queezle attempted to evade his inane questions about a possible outbreak until he recalled that the press baron who employed the idiot was one of the major benefactors of the hospital and he has to, at least, be civil with him. This paranoid, wide eyed, idiot who was demanding his opinion on something he’d not even seen yet. He told him that there was no immediate contagion danger from VoWillan and he’d have a better grasp of things after he’d actually met the patient. He gave pause to how this imbecile would have been escorted out on his tail on Zeema. They didn’t want people hearing the stories from there. He supposed he’d get used to the moron sooner or later.


The nurses had finished prepping the patient in bed by the time Queezle was ready to talk to him, having been given a light meal, fluids as required by regulations and placed under observation for a couple of hours. With the patches and lines attached, the computers could monitor them and he could react if there was any real need. So he’d watched from behind his sandwich, listening to the patient talking to themselves in delirium and telling themselves ‘not yet’ quietly and ‘not here’ as he writhed slightly in the bed. The computer kept an eye on him. He supposed it was time to check in.


Entering the room, he asked if the patient was awake, calling him gently by name. The patient groaned himself back to life, pulling himself to a sitting position and ignoring the opinion of the smartest Raitchian in the room that he should remain lying down. The patient smirked and said he’d done a lot.. a lot of lying down and asked who he was talking to.

He told him he was Doctor Queezle and moved to put him back to bed physically. As he shifted the patient back up into bed, the patient grinned, grasped him and said, simply ‘got ‘im’ before they both vanished from the room.


“Welcome to the U.S.C. Fallir, Doctor Queezle,” a canine stated, letting Ensign Castor go to the medical bay for the counteragent. “I’m Commander Grovan. My old Captain wants a word with you...”

[Amazee Dayzee]

I was wondering if we were going to find out what happened to some of Hawle's former crew members after the left The Loper. I guess I have my answer and we know what happened to at least one of them and maybe we will find out about the other ones also.

[Welsh Halfwit]

66


He stewed in the cells of the little ship, visible on the monitor as Grovan made his command quickly on the return to the bridge. He had a course set and velocity three laid in almost before he sat down and the ship flowed into its fastest velocity, cutting through space on its route to find the Loper.


Captain Chanderra had reacted quickly to the news of the abduction, ordering scans of the rea for U.S.C. craft or, indeed, any ships at all and, on hearing of the proximity of a U.S.C. ship, set course for it, bringing the Peygan out from behind the shadow of the moon to surprise the council ship and moved in on her, a sly grin spreading across his face as he pieced the clues together. The Fallir. Commanded by a Commander Grovan if the files were correct. “Who is he,” Sondan asked, gaining a softer look from the Captain than Yaktin might have received.

“He’s Hawle’s former second officer, Karra,” Chanderra told his 2nd. “Carraway, follow that ship!” He sat back as the helm officer laid in a course and accelerated to velocity three. “Our sensors are better than theirs,” Chanderra remarked. “keep us out of range of theirs.” He checked to make sure the transponder was just as switched off as it had been when they’d ‘parked’ there. “Valstir,” he told the Celican on the sciences station, “keep an eye out for any pings.”

“Huh?”

“Pings. Sonic traps. They might send out some to see if anyone’s tracking them. If they send out any such signals, we’ll have a little time to adjust speed to counteract them. But only if YOU’RE doing your job, predator.”

“Understood, sir.”


Hawle mused on what Grovan had sent. He had the Doctor for him and he’d sent a picture as well as relaying the fact that he was having to draft one of his security officers to guard him as his security chief was currently on leave. Hawle mused on what he needed to do now. He was an hour away from interception now. Nine away from the colony. OK. Time for the slight of hand? Possibly. He checked on the other card he had to play. Yup, she was in position. He tapped a button on his console. “Hawle to Doctor Fuze,” he said into the speaker.

<“Yes, Captain,”> the medical officer replied.

“Castling,” Hawle said simply. “Move into position.”

<“Confirmed, sir.”> The line cut out.


Sarah manipulated the helm board as though born to it and tried to push thoughts of her mate and son from her head as light streamed around them. She’d locked onto the transponder of the Fallir in the extreme far distance and was wondering how it would feel meeting Grovan again. She’d never really gotten on with the Canine, especially when he’d been here, but absence allowed an improvement to community. She reacted with a little surprise when Hawle dvised there would need to be a slight change in direction but she adjusted course to match the new heading and laid it in. Behind her, Sarina looked to Hawle and she heard him ask what was going on. Hawle lifted his head up before replying. “A game of chess, Sarina,” he told her. “It seems to be me vs Chanderra. We’re both making moves, it seems, and neither of us is underestimating the other. So I have to do what he can’t predict.”

“What’s that,” Sarina asked, knowing full well what the answer was but playing along for the benefit of the others on the bridge who might not know him so well.

“I have to cheat, Sarina,” Aldair replied, shuffling back in his seat and putting his hands behind his head. “It’s an old game known throughout the universe, Chess. Many different names and only one standard board. The moves are different everywhere but the baseline game is the same. But some cultures, like the one of the helm officer who’s not listening to all this as intently as the comms officer is, are more inventive than others.” Sarah lifted a closed fist in triumph before bringing it back down again. “They play a game called checkers…”

“Draughts,” Sarah corrected, earning an imperial.

“If there’s a draught on this ship we’re in trouble,” Hawle half joked. “Anyway, checkers is played on the same board but by totally different rules. And keeping a few chess pieces if I can.”

“I’ll have combat readiness drills done,” Sarina commented, starting the preparations by entering the commands on her armrest system.


Katara cursed as the latest readiness drills came through and swore at Wilde as he was the nearest person she could swear at. “When do they plan to let us alone to do some dratted engineering,” she thundered before slamming the padd onto her console and adding it to the things she needed to repair and assigning her teams to their drills. “You’re not part of my team,” she told Wilde, feeling her recent injury with a hand as it ached her back, “you get to stay with me.”

“Lucky for me,” he replied before working to massage her back better.

“Get off,” she threatened. “It’s a wound, not an invite.”

“Understood,” he replied, lifting his hands away. “My mistake.”

“Do it later,” she allowed. “If we survive.”

“Now I wanna live!” He snapped to attention as Katara contacted Raven to tell her Engineering was at their stations.


Jaqui had Rakkel and Darvell with her as she got the orders for the drill so she assigned them to the pilot’s station near the rear of the ship as a likely location if they were boarded. She’d had people there on the last occasion without incident but a captain like the one they were likely to be up against now was likely to be aware that the rear of the ship, away from the command officers, was still home to major power lines and other soft targets, including crewmen. So she wanted the experienced Darvell taking command down there and Rakkel was his partner. That and she was getting a bit too close to the Lappinean prisoner. He might have turned sides but she knew how honeyed the words of her people could be to the young and inexperienced. She commed to Raven that her teams were ready and deployed.


“Nice to see you again, Grovan,” Hawle said, allowing the Canine to reply in a similar fashion before the line was cut and the prisoner was transported aboard the Loper. Hawle hopped from his chair and jogged to the teleport bay. “Welcome aboard, Doc…” he started, his arms wide in a theatrical way until he saw who was waiting in the bay for him. “You,” he said brightly, “are not Queezle, are you?”

“No sir,” Widdowson, comms officer of the Peygan, replied. “He’s safe. I did what I was supposed to and changed places with him in his office when I heard a U.S.C. ship was bringing a patient.”

“Captain Chanderra’s idea,” Hawle remarked, a twinkle in his eye.

“He’ll be here shortly, sir.”

“Oh, I do hope so,” Hawle replied cheekily.

[Amazee Dayzee]

We know that Hawle is used to getting literally pies in the face but now he has a metaphorical one since Chanderra managed to outwit him. I have to say though that I don't think Chanderra will be able to do it again.

[Welsh Halfwit]

67


Hawle stepped brightly back onto the bridge, escorted by Pangal and Widdowson. He clapped his hands for everyones attention as Widdowson cringed. “Everyone, this is Ensign Chad Widdowson, comms officer for Captain Chanderra on the Peygan and we’re all his prisoners! We’re to wait here until the Peygan itself gets here to accept our surrender and obey all his instructions!” He glanced back brightly at the Raichian, who was clearly looking like he wanted the deck to swallow him whole. “As we were planning on doing that anyway,” he added, practically jumping into his seat and dislodging a lot of dust, “we might as well play along.” He glanced to Sarina. “Remind me to get maintenance to take a look at this chair. It really should have more give when someone jumps on it.”

“I’ll remind them to waste their time later,” Raven replied.

“You don’t need to humiliate me,” Widdowson complained.

“Humiliate you?” Hawle looked offended. “Chad, I’m not trying to humiliate you! If I wanted to do that, I’d have brigged you.” He patted Stikka’s seat. “I’m promoting you! This is my 2nd Officer’s seat. He’s on downtime at the moment so his seat’s free! Come, sit!” Pangal escorted him around to the chair and Hawle could see the confusion and awe at where he was being allowed/forced to sit. He sat carefully, putting his tail through the back as though he thought it was going to be clamped in place as Hawle disconnected the 2nd Officer arm panel computer. “So, what exactly did Captain Chanderra want you to do?”

“We, um, we knew that you’d try something sneaky to grab Doctor Queezle so, um, I went with him and, when we knew a U.S.C. ship was bringing someone that needed his speciality, I replaced Queezle in his office in case it was a trick.”

“As it was,” Hawle stated.

“Sir,” Jaqui reminded him as she stood off to one side. “He really should be in the brig. He’s a spy.”

“He’s an infiltrator, Jaqui,” Hawle corrected. “And he’s quite bad at it,” he added, playfully punching the ‘captive’ on the arm, to which he reacted with alarm. “Why’d he choose you,” he asked.

“Resistance to a certain isotope,” he replied.

“Swallowed or worn?” Widdowson took a boot off and let his clawed toes breathe as he handed the footwear to Pangal. “In the sole?”

Widdowson nodded.

“I’ll scan it and destroy it,” Jaqui volunteered. “And I’ll replicate him some boots,” she replied drily. “Can’t have a spy – or infiltrator – being uncomfortable.”

“Well,” Hawle continued brightly as he engaged the restraint straps on the 2nd officer’s chair, “at least we don’t have to get Andros ready for another operation. Kid’s been through a lot.”

Widdowson gestured to the restraints with something akin to alarm. “What is this about,” he demanded.

“You’re an insurgent,” Hawle told him. “On my bridge and security’s not here. I feared for my life!”

Even Widdowson had to grin at that one. “Chanderra likes fighting you,” he told Hawle. “He says you’re unpredictable and eccentric and he really doesn’t want to have to destroy you.”

“Same for me.”


Rakkel watched the Lappinean as he sat on his bunk. With Wilde out with Katara, it was pretty much just her and him at the moment and she had no-one else to talk to so… “We had to go to alert a few hours back,” she ventured, “and no-one has any clue as to why?”

“Welcome to the life of the grunt, kid,” he replied, swinging his feet to the floor and reminding Rakkel that he wasn’t wearing a shirt His tan and white chest exhaled and inhaled. “Command knew what they were doing. They always know. Sometimes they’re told. Sometimes they don’t LIKE being told – which I’m hoping is the case for me as I liked Captain Dably – but they know and have no reason to tell the likes of us.”

“You think he knew about the explosives in your suit,” Rakkel asked.

The Lappinean nodded sadly. “He’d have to.” He looked up to the corners. “I take it the cameras are on and everything’s being recorded?”

“Naturally. To make sure we don’t beat you to a pulp.”

He chuckled. “And I can’t seduce my guards.” Rakkel nodded slightly. “They knew that you had something aboard that’s a threat to all the species and we were to claim it for the Lappineans. Orders from on high.” Rakkel listened on, knowing the Chief was back in her office, listening in over the system and through the open door. “Of course,” he continued, “they didn’t tell us what it was. I’m not sure they even knew. So we were just to cripple you and find the answers. But we couldn’t get enough teams over. Of course, none of that will be official. I’d imagine my existence will be destroyed,” he sighed, shifting position. “The ship probably doesn’t exist, either.” He snorted a laugh. “Any vacancies in security here?”

“Any recent vacancies in security,” Pangal said from the door, holding a shoe, “will likely be due to the actions of Lappinean security services,” she finished stridently. “I can’t say we’re holding interviews right now.”


An hour passed before the Peygan arrived in front of the Loper and Hawle assumed this had been so the Fallir couldn’t pick them up on sensors. “You want to hail them,” Hawle asked Widdowson, releasing the comm control to the 2nd Officer system.

“I suppose it would be good,” he replied, putting down his cup of coffee and tapping the controls. “Widdowson to Peygan. Please respond.”


The screen cleared to reveal Chanderra. <“Caught you at last, Rabbit… You seem rather relaxed, Widdowson,”> he added, noting the cup of coffee and the relaxed position of his officer.

“Oh, he’s both captive and captor,” Hawle remarked, “so it’s kind of pointless him standing for a senior officer right now.” Hawle pricked his ears up. “Oh, do you want him back, by the way?”

<“Along with the boy.”>

“That I figured.” He motioned to tap his comm and stopped himself, seemingly thinking of something important at the last minute. “You do realise U.S.C. ships send each other pictures, correct?” Chanderra nodded mutely, knowing where this was going. “So, when the Fallir sent us the picture of ‘Queezle’ I knew to set a few things in motion.”

<“You’re not going to give us the boy, are you?”>

Hawle spread his hands. “I can’t, Captain. I had him, Doctor Fuze and Matron Webley beamed to the Fallir when I picked him up.” He thumbed to Widdowson. “Right now they should be picking Queezle up and taking him to a U.S.C. facility to help Andros. Check, I think...”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Hope that Aldair isn't bluffing when he says that because he already was beaten once before even if it is a temporary loss. With the way Aldair's mind works I wouldn't be surprised if them picking up the wrong person was a part of his plan.

[Welsh Halfwit]

68


“I have ten minutes before Captain Chanderra pops in,” Hawle told Harvey as they both sat in his personal quarters, Hawle drinking from a glass of water as the Jondhal relaxed on a settee that wasn’t as stained as his was, “so what do you have for me on my compatriot’s manner?”
Harvey thought about removing his shoes and wriggling his toes on the furniture but chose not to as it would look just a bit odd. “Well, his name’s David Balbury…” Hawle practically spat his water across the room and Harvey smirked at that as he’d been expecting it. “Yes, great grandson of THAT Balbury and no, he doesn’t know his great grandfather’s first name either. He goes by a cover name that’s so prevalent that even his commanding Officers know him as David Bayle…”

“Putting the great grandson of the head of Lappinean Intelligence – disavowed or not – in a self destructing armour,” Hawle mused, “I think someone might regret that end to their life. I wonder how painful he’ll make it?”

“Probably very. Anyhow, he trained in the military but got assigned to the ‘special projects division’, which he thought was linked to Military Intelligence.”

“They’re not,” Hawle told him. “They just pretend they are. You won’t find them sharing any intelligence beyond the minimum with the military and it all goes through the department of defensive protocols first. Yeah, we Lappineans play a dirty game in defeating the predators.” He glanced at Harvey. “Go on?”

“Well, there’s not much more to tell… from him,” Harvey reported, thinking that Hawle might have much more to say. “Except the sabotage of the Raitchian cruiser is now confirmed as he was one of the ‘customs’ team that did it.”

“Right. Note that and…” He paused as his comm beeped in his ear. “Time’s up. Chanderra’s coming aboard. You’ve cleared this extremely illegal telepathic scan from his mind, of course?” He stood and headed for the door as Harvey stayed sat.

“Of course,” Harvey stated as Hawle left the room and the door shut. “3...2...1…”

The door opened again. “These are my quarters, Harvey,” Hawle said stridently as the Squirrel grinned and jumped to his feet. “Get out!” Harvey ran past and Hawle let the door close again.


“So what do we do now, Captain,” Chanderra asked, standing in the conference room as Harmony Whiteside sat opposite, watching the guard Chanderra had brought with him.

“Well,” Hawle allowed, striding into the room and ignoring the glass of water on the table as he’d just had one and coughed it all over his own room, “the first thing I have to do is offer you congratulations. You’re the first Captain I’ve met in ages that I’ve had trouble outmanoeuvring.”

“You still did it, though,” Chanderra admitted.

“Did I,” Hawle asked rhetorically. He tapped the comm on the desk. “Hawle to Chappers..” No reply. “She said she was going to fix that… Hawle to Polva.”

<“Chappers here,”> Sarah replied brightly.

“Set us on course for the research centre at…” He glanced at Harmony. “Which is the nearest U.S.C. Medical base?”

“Tolliver,” Chanderra replied, half a second before Harmony.

“...Tolliver,” Hawle finished. “Engage in two minutes.”

<“Aye, sir.”>

He cut the line and Hawle looked up at Chanderra. “Care to have the Peygan join us, Captain? Finish this thing together and all that?”

“You’re trusting me?”

Hawle shrugged. “Why not? You’re not exactly the enemy. Besides which,” he added, leading the Raitchians from the room and back towards the teleport bay, “after this is done, I’d love a wargame against you.” Chanderra gave pause to thoughts of that. There might be much could be learned from the strategies.


Andros didn’t think much of this room. It was smaller than the one on the Loper and he was sharing it with Matron and Bazil. There had been fairly playful arguments over who wasn’t taking the bed as there was room in there for two and one would need to be on the sofa. The Matron had complained that she was taller than them so couldn’t take the sofa and it wasn’t right to sleep with Andros. Bazil had countered that it wasn’t right for him to sleep alongside the boy either and he wasn’t sure about a Feline and Andros had countered he wasn’t sleeping alongside either of them. So they’d decided to play things as they came. He didn’t think he’d really mind Bazil and Webley kipping together. He was planning on getting them into a family unit if he could. But now, he understood, they were going to kidnap the guy who could stabilise his blood. He hoped he could as he was beginning to think he had an idea what was causing the flare ups. He’d seen comic vids where the hero was affected by emotions, He’d been scared the first time. Very scared and bad things had started to happen. He supposed he’d been scared the second and third time as well but he reasoned that had been different. He’d been scared for a girl he was REALLY fond of. Well, the third time hadn’t been for her but he had just risked his neck by kissing her, hadn’t he? Wasn’t that just fear in a new way? He couldn’t discuss it with Matron Webley as that’d be like discussing it with his mother and, frankly, he was beginning to suspect he knew more about girls than Bazil did. So he tried to work on controlling his anger as… he didn’t know what he might do to this doctor…


Several hours passed before Hawle had a chance to check in with the Lappinean prisoner and Jaqui had the tag ready for him as they stepped through and faced him with Darvell as back up in case things got physical. Jaqui disconnected the energy field and stepped forward to tag the buck. He lifted his foot for the device and she locked it in place with her biostamp meaning only she could remove it. She stepped back. “You have a room available now, David,” she stated, making his ears flick up. “Yeah, we know who you are, David Bayle.”

“You have something monogrammed, don’t you, D.B,” Hawle remarked with a smile. He waved a hand. “Yeah, we know, you don’t know him. But you DID say that knowing your name would change how we looked at you and it’s something that could be a useful card later, eh?”

He heard a cough from the other cell. “Yes,” he added, rolling his eyes, “we have one for you too, Terry. No, I won’t call you ‘scar’ and Katara will be by to show you it…” he paused as a call came in. “You’re kidding. What the…? Inform the Peygan and increase speed to maximum velocity! All speed! I’ll be there now!” He disconnected the comm. “Darvell, get him to Webley’s room.”

“What..,” Jaqui began to ask as she felt the ship increase speed.

“The Fallir’s under attack from pirates,” Hawle told her, running for the bridge.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Even when something goes catastrophically wrong with a plan somehow Hawle manages to keep a cool head under the pressure that is building up. It makes me want to get to see more of him since he and his fiancee are still on a seemingly never-ending ride.

[Welsh Halfwit]

69


“Are we flooring it, Sarah,” Hawle asked, almost running onto the bridge as they slid through space towards the location of the distress call. Once more he jumped for his chair and Sarina, who’d just moved from the seat caught him and placed him down on the chair. “Thanks, Sarina. Good job we’ve practised that.”

“You mean we’ve done self defence classes and you’ve never landed a foot,” Sarina replied, sitting herself down in her usual seat. “I always see you coming.” He threw a mint imperial at her. She caught it and popped it in her mouth.

“I seem to recall asking you a question, Sarah,” Hawle reiterated as he engaged the seat restraints.

“If it were a car, my foot would be through the floor, sir,” Sarah replied, making Hawle check the speed. Velocity 4.4. Absolute top speed. Not something they could sustain for long. The systems indicated the Peygan was keeping apace with them, not letting them out of their sights despite not having the same top speed. Hawle was pretty sure he wouldn’t, either. He hoped he still didn’t have to deal with Chanderra at the end of this. What were the pirates doing, attacking a U.S.C. clipper ship? Was it the clans? “Dawton,” he muttered.

“Sir,” Dawton asked.

“Make sure this signal’s coming from the Fallir, would you?” He checked the console to make sure they were only twenty minutes out from the conflict. “And put me on with Chanderra, would you?”

“Aye, sir,” he replied.


“We meet again, Captain,” Hawle greeted the Raitchian on the screen. “Does anything strike you as odd about this?”

<“Beyond the fact the distress call is still being transmitted and not jammed,”> Chanderra ventured. <“Or the fact that pirates don’t attack Council ships in they can avoid it. This makes little sense. I might almost think you have something to do with this.”>

“You might indeed.” Hawle crossed his legs. “I wouldn’t blame you. But we’re being invited to this. Attack a Council ship and we call for help. Our ships are spread across the quadrant but the KNOW we’re here. They know this will bring us to them.”

<“The Lappineans,”> Chanderra mused.

“Possibly,” Hawle admitted. “Although it could just be a co-incidence and the Fallir shot off their jamming equipment.”

Chanderra winced at the thought. <“We’ll be ready to fire on anyone who attacks us, Captain,”> Chanderra promised.

“Likewise,” Hawle replied before the line cut out and he turned to the Mican at the weapons station. “Tilloch,” he said, before cringing at the error. “Sorry, Tyne. Ready weapons, will you? I want to go in firing.”

“Of course, sir,” she replied, cycling the power up to battle readiness whilst making sure the flow remained steady.


Januvitski read the power levels down in engineering and smoothed over the relay lines linking the power source to the cannon emitters and shield generators to ensure best efficiency and power flow. They’d bypassed failing lines and replaced failed chips so they were up to best active limits. Kavanagh had even checked the ‘water’ flow around the cooling systems that would help keep the guns working up to fifty percent longer. It wasn’t actually water but it operated on the same principle as power station coolant so she was going to consider it the same. Katara was out, doing the rounds and Jan was qualified to watch over things and she ran a quick double check on Kavanagh’s workings in case. She really enjoyed being with the Raitchian and he was certainly working out some of her pent up feelings but he had been involved in this scenario before jumping ship and…

“Whatcha up to, Jan,” Kavanagh asked, looking over her shoulder.

She cringed but opened up another tab to show the work of Dalby on the electrical relay systems. “I’m just double checking people’s workings, Kav. Yours was good, by the way?”

“Ah.” He didn’t quite seem like he believed her but he decided not to press it for now. “What do you want me to do now, boss,” he asked, tickling her cheek with his whiskers quite deliberately.

“Stay around, Kav. You never know what’s going to go wrong next.” She reached up and tickled his neck. He breathed out and held her hand there for a second.


Match checked the long range scanners to see if they were picking up the fighting ships yet. Things were close, it seemed and he was able to get a more precise location now and they were fighting near an asteroid patch, which might explain why the combat was taking so long and Match provided that information to the command crew.

“Thank you, oh trustworthy Raitchian,” Hawle replied. “Not that I’m saying anything but I’m surrounded by Raitchians and you’re the only one I trust. Well, one of the two,” he corrected, sensing the incoming IOC agent at the back of the bridge.

“I’m complimented, sir,” Match replied.

“I’m not,” Harmony muttered.

“I trust you indeed, Harmony,” Hawle replied. “Dawton, any news on the Fallir?”

Not yet, sir,” Dawton replied. “Command’s not gotten back to us.”

Hawle tutted. “The mail’s always late. You going to park yourself, Agent? We’re going in stroppy so it’s not going to be wise to stand.” She made for Stikka’s chair but Hawle indicated the chairs next to Match at the science station. Stikka himself strode swiftly onto the bridge and took his seat before she could protest and she headed over. “Hardy ready to launch,” he questioned.

“Told me to &*%^ off and let her do her job,” the Racon replied.

“I’ll have a word with her on the language later,” Hawle told his junior. “She forgot to add ‘sir’. Gotta have a ‘sir’. It’s respect.”

“Thanks so much,” Stikka grumbled, before adding a ‘sir’.

“See,” Hawle asked. “Makes it so much more respectful, doesn’t it?”

“Sir,” Match remarked, “we’re…”

“In range,” Hawle interrupted. “Put ‘er up!”


The screen cleared to show the Fallir dodging through the asteroids, fighting a losing battle with two Lapistech cruiser class vessels...

[Amazee Dayzee]

I do have to wonder if Hawle ends up getting any sort of flack for also being a Lappinean with everything going on with other members of the same species as him. It is looking more and more like the Lappineans here are kind of aggressive and nasty.

[Welsh Halfwit]

70


Hawle sat back in his chair and considered his next move as the Fallir slipped and slid between asteroids, desperately trying to stay out of the firing paths of the Lappinean ships as they reduced it’s cover. “Let’s start this as if we don’t know it’s a trap. Dawton, put us on general comms.” He waited until the Human told him he was on until he spoke again. “This is Commander Aldair Hawle of the Loper to ‘pirate’ vessels attacking the Fallir. We are coming to the rescue. If you’re still here when we arrive, we’ll send our condolences to your relatives. Hawle out.” Dawton cut the line. “Don’t acknowledge any responses unless it’s from the Fallir.”

“Aye, sir,”

“Raven, I think Maze should get to launch stations. Match, is the Peygan still with us?”

Match checked the eddies caused by ships at velocity speeds and ran the analysis to show two ships at high velocities, one five relative minutes behind. Without her transponder on, it was impossible to be absolute as to who was out there but, unless the Peygan had tagged another ship in on exactly the same frequencies, it was their frenemy Raitchians and he reported as such in a second or two before Raven relayed the standby to launch order to the pilots. “Thank you, Match. Hopefully the ‘pirates’ are only expecting us and not the Peygan. Oh, by the way, Dawton… Yellow alert, yeah? It’s probably the right time. Set red alert timer for four minutes.”

“We don’t have a red alert timer,” the Human replied with a grin Hawle couldn’t see as he engaged the yellow alert. The sirens sounded twice and a wall panel started pulsing yellow as they did throughout the ship, one panel in every room and in every passageway to alert the crew. “We’re all alerted,” he reported.

“Is it too late to rule by fear,” Hawle wondered.

“At this stage, yes,” Sarina reported as they closed on target.


Kavanagh sighed and started heading towards the secure room until Katara put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re assigned to Jan today, Kav.” He straightened up with a little pride and commented ‘yes, ma’am’, before beginning to move to back up his mate. “I’m a Chief, Kav. And I’m Jan’s best friend so consider this the standard ‘hurt her and I have so many ways to extinguish you, got it?”

Kavanagh swallowed. “Got it, chief.”

Katara broke into a smile. “Good to have you on board, Dalton.” She patted his shoulder and sent him on his way.

“You’re soft on him,” Wilde advised as she grabbed his arm.

“I like him,” she told him as she escorted him back to the brig.

“And me,” he asked?

“You’re not on the crew,” she told him, passing him off to Pangal. “So you get to stay in your room this time.”

“I thought I had a room now,” he asked as Katara walked away and Pangal took him to his cell.”

“It’s being cleaned,” Jaqui replied, “A Raitchian boy was the occupant. It needed deep cleaning.” She put him behind the barrier but chose not to turn it on. She just established the barrier at the cell block door so the tag would incapacitate him there. “Stay here,” she advised. “The charge will put you down.”

“Appreciated, Chiefy,” Wilde replied, lying on the bed. “Where’s my bunny buddy?”

“In his own room. HE moved to a matron’s room.”


“And your replication machine’s been programmed not to make anything you can use as a weapon,” Rakkel finished, “I think that about covers everything, David.”

The Lappinean, relaxing on the sofa, put his feet up. “It smells like perfumed Feline in here.” He regarded her softly. “I don’t even know your full name.”

“Rakkellian Kierana Carramy,” she told him. “Kierana from the Varkonian and Carramy from the Celican.”

“Surprised you’d want to remember the Varkonian,” he told her straight. “They didn’t exactly treat you lot well.”

“Some were worse than others,” she told him. “Dad was quite kind in most ways.”

David stood up and walked towards her. “Some relatives aren’t that easy to forgive,” he stated before giving her a careful, almost chaste, kiss on the lips. “You’d better go guard something,” he told the startled guard as he side eyed the flashing yellow panel. “And lock me in?”


The Loper slapped back into normal space, thirty thousand kilometres from the fight. It seemed as though Hawle’s warning had gone unheeded as the pair kept their attention on the Fallir and its’ cover. They started to turn as the Loper bore down on them, the fighters showing as dots of thruster light from the larger ship before the fizz of energy indicated the battle shields were up and Energy bolts struck across space, juddering against the shields of the closest ship. The Loper had the chance to fire twice more before the ship was in a position to fire back and they did so, lashing fire across the stern of the Loper, dazzling those inside for a split second as the treated screen adapted to the yellow energy wave. The other ship still tried to keep it’s attack on the Fallir going but it was being distracted by Maze Hardy and her pilots as the Fallir launched her own handful of fighters. Hawle couldn’t help but notice that the Lappinean ship facing them was beginning to launch her own fighters, with shield power down at the rear to allow their ships to launch. He reckoned Grovan had noticed as well, the skipper of the Fallir was trying to fire on the ship from behind and had scored a hit, blasting a hole into the rear of the hull before they were reminded of their own fight. Hawle reckoned they were getting close enough now and instructed Sarah to engage alpha thirteen.


The Human entered the course and the system updated, shifting shield power generation to focus on the underside of the ship as they changed their relative angle to the oncoming attacker. Gunnery Officer Tyne adjusted her firing solutions to match, plotting new angles for the generators on the hull to send the beams. “They’re not firing on full power,” she advised.

“Figured they wouldn’t be,” Hawle reported. “They’re to lure us in.”

“For what, sir,” Tyne asked before Dawton indicated two more ships had just appeared on screen. Lapistech cruisers.

“Well, for them, probably,” Hawle remarked.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Once again Hawle proves that he is a few more steps ahead of everybody when it comes to doing battle with hostile ships and making sure him and his crew don't die in the process. It is like he is a champion chess player who sees what people are going to do and then he cuts them off before they can.

[Welsh Halfwit]

71

Four against two and no sign of the Peygan as the Lappineans considered they’d won the day. Or night. Or whatever time it was in Hawle’s mind as he kept the engagement with the vessel facing them. Or, rather, passing by their side as they angled to take on the vessel targeting the Fallir whilst the Lappinean ship turned around. Tyne worked to bring the side facing weapons to bear correctly and they fired, their reduced power output scratching the shields before the top mounted beam weapon had an angle to fire. The ship shuddered under impacts across the protection fields and the other ship came into the forward weapons firing solution and Tyne fired, the main weapons crashing through the shielding where the Fallir had done her best to penetrate. One of the main engines flared and died as the ship drifted closer to the asteroid field.


Maze directed half her flight to double back and engage the other ship, leaving the Fallir’s to finish off the semi stricken one. She appreciated the capital ships decision not to bring many fighter’s out to play after the Fallir’s shot had punctured the hull. It was hard to launch fighters when the area was decompressed and, possibly, on fire. She twisted hard to starboard as one of the fighters that HAD launched tried to lock on. She put the rockets in a tight spin to come in behind the Lappinean, driving home shot after shot into his fuselage, tying to miss the power core. The engines flared and died, the ship drifting lazily and allowing her to power away before it exploded with the same regularity as they had in the first fight with Lappinean forces this week. Her wingman sought to distract another fighter that had gotten on her tail and she felt the impact of one shot before the Lappinean was distracted by Eddington. The Loper’s main cannons fired again, demolishing the back half of the Lappinean cruiser’s port stern side and she could see the ship taking fire as well turning tight against space to try and get behind the other ship as she saw the dots of light that indicated the incoming ships. Two new combatants were heading for them. No, wait. She recounted. Three. There were definitely three coming in.


Captain Chanderra leaned forward and counted another victory for Hawle. He’d called it and he’d been right, even if he hadn’t kept everyone in the loop. The Loper’s top speed ensured they’d get here a little before the Peygan as he knew the top speed – and he’d have to find out exactly HOW the Rabbit knew their top secret ship’s top speed and, indeed, where to hit them to temporarily inconvenience them. He’d had that section of hull strengthened, of course. Wouldn’t do to be hit there twice. The cruisers in front of him were beginning to panic now, he noted, one of them trying hard to turn on it’s own axis. Not that that was going to happen in his book. He had his main guns trained on the one closest to the starboard axis which had just slammed it’s shields back on without telling their pilots to abort the launch. Four of their own fighters exploded against the interior of the energy barrier, showering the hull with their own dead as the Peygan fired.

“Do we launch fighters,” Sondan asked as the fight began, not managing to distract Chanderra from the viewscreen.

“I think there’s enough chaos going on here, Karra,” Chanderra replied. “We’ll keep them in reserve for now. Launch stations though.”

“Understood.” She sounded the stations. “Yaktin’s reporting in from the secondary bridge.”

“Good place for ‘im,” Chanderra replied, ordering a cross attack vector to keep them on their target. “Never a good idea to have all your hens in one basket as the Humans say. Plus you’re the better officer.”

“Understood. Although I’ll deny it if he has to take over from you, of course.”

Chanderra huffed. “Understood. Let’s hope they don’t want to go toe-to-toe with equal odds. Well, nearly equal. The Fallir’s taken some damage. Ready a boarding party.”

“To what end? Assault on the Lappineans? Sabotage?”

“No,” Chanderra grimaced. “Rescue.”


Grovan felt his emotions flip-flopping again as the Raitchian ship entered the fight. He’d known he wasn’t the one sending the distress call. He’d known it was a trap but he hadn’t been able to stop them. He’d had to think of his crew and hope that Hawle could think of something to get them both out of this. When he’d heard him over the audio, it had been with something akin to relief but then the trap had been sprung and it was four on two and there was no chance but… He engaged the port thruster twelve degrees to evade an asteroid in lieu of his dead helm officer and engaged the firing system in lieu of his gunnery officer, who was lying on the floor with a growing bump on his temple and a medic treating him. Even with them only being the bait and being kept alive until the Loper arrived, the ship had taken damage. He wasn’t sure how effective they would be, with Lieutenant Yasta holding engineering together with every strip of sticky tape he could find.


Andros held tight to the frame of his bed as the ship shuddered and shook. He wanted to hug Matron Webley but, even though he was scared beyond belief, he understood he couldn’t. He might kill her with his strength.

“I don’t quite know what I’m doing here,” Bazil said, sitting next to Matron. “But we’re with you, Andros.” He put a hand across, touched Andros’s knee. “Right here.”

“Sensor’s showing the temperature going up, isn’t it,” Andros chuckled.

“Yup. Ten degrees in five minutes,” Bazil replied before falling off the sofa after another strike to the shields. Andros smiled and pulled the slightly older Raitchian back up to his feet.

“Careful, Baz. You’ll need a Doctor if you’re not careful.” He side-eyed the shaking glass in his other hand. Was it shaking because of the fight or because of..? It shattered in his hand and he let its shards drop to the floor as the Matron came to check on his hand.

“That wasn’t glass,” Bazil commented as Matron declared his hand undamaged somehow. “That was clear steel. Glass doesn’t last long in space. And it shouldn’t shatter like that.” He ran the scanner over it. “It’s showing as glass…” He pondered it as the ship shook hard. “Transmutation?” He glanced up as the room began to shake uncontrollably. “We’ll sort it,” he assured Andros. “We’ll get through this. Just keep calm, yeah?”

“Would a sedative help,” Matron asked.

“Unknown,” Bazil replied. “If the panic’s subconscious it could make things much worse.” He put a hand on Andros’s arm. “You can control this, yeah?”

Andros swallowed and tried his best.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Let's hope that Andros's best efforts to control everything happening is enough to stop things from going even more off the rails. This isn't the time to add to problems that they are currently facing because that will make things even more worse.

[Welsh Halfwit]

72


“Dawton, is anyone hailing us,” Hawle asked, holding to his chair as the ship shuddered and Match reported the shields were down to thirty percent efficiency. The ceiling bowed contemptuously in the middle and the Captain gave a second’s thought as to why they did that before landing on the salient point that the middle of the room was furthest from any supporting walls. “Abandon central chairs,” he ordered, uncoupling his belt and shifting to a chair next to Tyne at weapons. “Hello,” he greeted, grinning as she totally ignored him. He noted Raven had gone to intimidate Match and Stikka had slotted himself in near communications. “You can answer me any time you want, Charles,” he added, swinging the seat around so it faced into the bridge.

“I did,” the Human replied. “You just…” he paused as a shot struck the hull, “didn’t hear me over the banging.”

“Doesn’t sound like me,” Hawle replied, perplexed. “Go to Attack pattern theta alpha, Sarah.”

“There’s no such pattern, sir,” Sarah replied, unsure of things.

“Sure there… no, wait, I only dreamed it up recently. Power us past her, then slam the breaks on whilst doubling power to the stern underside emergency rockets. Should flip us up behind it.”

“Untested manoeuvre in combat, sir,” Sarah replied. “Please make it an order.”

“It’s an order,” Hawle agreed. “Dawton,” he asked, “was there an answer to my question by any chance..? Whoop.” He engaged the new seats restraints as the procedure began,

Dawton wasn’t listening. Half a second before the captain told him to warn the ship of the extreme turn, he was doing it already so Hawle told Match to route the majority of shield power to the exposed areas.


Barleycorn and Dack, operating in a stabilised bed area, with the patients strapped to the beds and hanging onto the chairs that extruded from the floor, looked at each other and grabbed onto the nearest beds as the room began to tilt upwards and to the side. “What the heck,” Dack asked, “is going… on..?”

“The Captain’s trying a tight… turn for… advantage. The compensators are… pushed to the limit, trying to stop… us being squished… by gravity!”

The Human’s face pulsated as the pressure continued to rise in the room and she watched as Barleycorn strained to raise her arm to a wall panel to reduce the pressure in the room as one patient had already fallen across the room, only to have another managed to catch her by her tail, which saved her from the immediate fall but only increased the strain on her body as her skeletal structure elongated. They could hear the thuds from the passageways and knew the butcher’s bill was going to increase as Barleycorn made it to the panel and managed to lighten the pressure in the bay. “Ensign… Raitchian,” Dack said, not knowing the ensign’s name yet. “He...can’t hold you by the tail for… long. Can you see… something to grab whilst falling?”

“Yes I…”

“Good. Get ready to… grab. Mr Canine? Release in three… two...one… now.”

The canine released the tail and the Mican fell through the inverting bay, just grabbing onto the doorframe to Barleycorn’s office and dangling across it. “I can’t… hold…”

“Yes you can,” Barleycorn told her, feeling the pressure begin to ebb. “Pressure’s lessening, Heysham. “Get a hand… on the inside to help as we’re going to… invert. Drop… into my office…”

The Female fought to hold on, her wounded leg drizzling blood down the wall where it had reopened the wound after initial treatment.


No engineering was going on right now as everyone was hanging on for their lives The core was fifty metres in length and no-one felt like falling that far. Januvitski, strapped in at the main console, was taking note of where the stresses were most noticeable and getting ready to dispatch crews when things evened out and Kavanagh was stuck to the wall, wishing he was somewhere else right now. The Human engineer, her long hair trying to pull her head back unnaturally, tapped to close the door next to Kavanagh and it started to shut with monotonous slowness. “Trapping me… in,” he asked, afraid to move his eyeballs in case they broke.

“You know it,” she replied, half serious. “Or I just don’t want you to… fall out,” she added, catching him as things changed and he fell past her. She took his hand and held on as her chair spun around with the added weight impetus, With all her strength, she pulled him back up to where he could grab onto her shoulders and secure himself against her. “Don’t get… ideas,” she told him. But she didn’t argue much when he managed to place his mouth against hers.


“It’s… lessening,” Match reported, his tail beginning to droop down from pointing at the ceiling.

“So are… the deck plates,” Raven advised. “The frame can’t take too much more of this.”

“They don’t… have to,” Hawle remarked, tasting the metal tang in his mouth and wondering if he’d bitten his tongue in the last twenty seconds. His strained view of the screen told him the super tight loop had worked. “Chapston, fire the stern topside… rockets! Tyne…”

“Fire, sir?” Tyne replied, seemingly almost unaffected by the pressure. Then again, Hawle thought, she was from a high pressure colony so this must have less effect on her as Chapston fired the stabilising rockets and Tyne fired the main cannons, rupturing two power conduits on the ship as the energy flowed.


Outside the ship, Maze Hardy almost couldn’t believe what she was seeing as the Loper’s rear side continued to come towards the fighters, only upside down now, inverted on the z axis and she wondered about the pressures on those inside as she skimmed around the firing path of an enemy fighter. She couldn’t think about Jarra, not now. The old feline would have to let her think about herself and her pilots as she pulled her own gravities and spiralled down and away.


The Loper wasn’t looking too great from Grovan’s position. They’d exposed their underside during the unorthodox manoeuvre and the Fallir had worked hard to stop the third of the four Lappinean ships from attacking her but they’d still gotten a shot or two in, impacing hard on the bigger ships hull but Grovan had odered extra power to the forward weapons and he’d managed to punch through the shields at the cost of overloading the weapon and they were on reduced power for a few moments as the ship held itself together. He was amazed the viewer was still on and he couldn’t turn it towards the other ships as the Lappinean turned towards them, seemingly unaware of their situation.


“Alpha wing,” Maze ordered as she worked some of the situation out after the Fallir’s flight leader told her he’d lost comms with his ship, “keep the fighters off Beta wing’s backs. Beta, join the Fallir’s flight and kill that cruiser!”

[Amazee Dayzee]

I'm taking it that after this procedure that Hawle had them do that nobody ever wants to have to do it again? I can feel how uncomfortable everybody on the upside-down ship is just reading about it and I think this is the first time I have seen Hawle in a discomfited position.

[Welsh Halfwit]

73


The Loper travelled back along the topside of their latest chosen target, swapping fire as they went. The directional weapons atop the Lappinean ship scarred along the topside of the Loper as it was the side facing the top of the Lappinean ship. The Loper’s main weapons thudded into the shields and hull with repetitive precision, smashing through as they went, the topside directional weapons chipping in like piranhas after sharks.


Inside, Hawle didn’t want to do that again. He still felt the inside of his skull pulling back into it’s normal shape as pressure normalised and he could sense his ears again as he looked at the upside down ship on the screen. Or were they the ones that were upside down? Was anyone upside down when gravity was at the whim of the computer? Did it matter? It wasn’t like his ears were hanging upwards? He checked through a few controllers on his temporary console as the ceiling bowed further over the middle of the bridge. Match reported shielding had failed in locations. He was compensating manually and Katara was repairing the worst of them on station in B-12. “Does she have support,” Hawle asked.

“I dunno,” Match replied.

Hawle almost slapped his head. Of course Katara would have logged it and Match didn’t have contact. He tapped his comm. “Hawle to Katara, do you need back up down there?”

<“Not from a Command cretin,”> Katara commented contemptuously. <“Sir. No, everyone else is busy. I can handle it.”>

“No-one works alone, Chief, cretin’s order. I’ll send someone down WITHOUT compromising your department orders. Out.” He cut the link and opened up a new one. “Hawle to Pangal. Katara needs some engineering back up.”

<“Sounds fun. What’s that to do with security?”>

“I understand you have an engineer in your possession? Send the Wolf down to B-12 would you? Escort them if needed.”

<“I am not a concierge service but understood.”> Pangal closed the line before he could and he knew she was grinning at that as he took to observing the fight.

“Match, strengthen shielding on our rear. Sarah, put us on for the ship engaging the Peygan.”


Maze Hardy led her squad against the partially crippled ship and wondered why they weren’t quitting and seemed to be trying to kill everyone now. The Fallir was still just sat there, almost in the angle of fire, as Hardy’s troop jinked around the fire from the aft facing anti fighter weaponry and tried to lance the engines or the hull or… well, whatever they could. Alpha three blatted off her systems list as one of the gun ports on the ship exploded in synchronicity. The ships shields had dwindled to insignificant levels – as had hers, come to think of it – but the hull was still thick and… Oh, she was worried now. She was thinking like Hawle. It was probably the end for them all. “Alpha’s two and four, concentrate your fire on this location,” she said, keying in co-ordinates and sending. “Bravo wing, keep the enemy off our backsides. The rest of Alpha, fire on this location.” She put in new co-ordinates and had to smile as her team reported in. “Yeah, the shuttle bay doors. We’re going for the weak point.”


The Doctor wondered if this was a good thing? The power had gone down, enabling him to leave his prison but there were still people around. The ship was still under fire. He was still a prisoner. He knew how to seem less threatening, of course. He had access to a medical kit from the feebly under equipped medical supplies here and the security officer was busy. They’d find the medic he’d knocked senseless and stolen the jacket from. He pushed the body into an alcove and stepped out into the Fallir to ‘protect and serve’. It would aid him if they survived and it wouldn’t aid him if they didn’t. He crouched beside a wounded crewman and hid behind the anonymity of the uniform as he gave basic first aid. Going to the medical centre itself might just prove too dangerous. The patient looked like he was about to recognise him so, after stabilising the wound, Queezle applied a sedative to make him sleep before he headed off to see if there was a way out.

Chanderra held to the course as the Peygan closed on the Lappinean ship. They were coming in fast on each other and one of them was going to have to be the chicken and it wasn’t going to be him. There were fires on three of his decks right now. He had seven dead at last count. Ten wounded. He’d been foolish to get drawn into this fight but it had also been essential. He had a chance to take the boy back and his superiors would expect him to take every opportunity he could get, regardless of his personal feelings. He knew that. Hawle knew that. But he knew that the Rabbit also knew this had been a trap and, regardless of the odds, he’d ridden into it because it was the right thing to do. Chanderra appreciated that. The way of the sea. Noble. Stupid but noble. Another strike in the ‘Mad Rabbit’s favour. As was this. The Loper was exposing her own rear as she swooped up behind the oncoming ship, her cannons powering and rocking the Lappineans from behind as she came. “Helm, thirty degrees down forward. The Loper’s come to aid us so let’s switch partners and keep the ticks off her backside.”

“Aye, sir,” the helm reported, entering the instructions now that ‘chicken’ had been established and avoided.


Katara almost swore as ‘Scar’ showed up to help her at the conduit. “&%*$ing Rabbit,” she swore before turning to look at him. “I wanted you safe, Terry,” she protested, “but, as you’re here, hand me the sonic lance.”

“I haven’t been safe since I stepped on this ship,” Wiide protested, handing her the tool. “and thinking I’m safe behind an energy field is a bit dim considering that, if the ship goes, so does the energy field so, if I’m going to die, I might as well go out with you, right? What do you want me to do?”

“Keep an eye on the pressure on that console,” she ordered, gesturing at a console she couldn’t see. “If it gets to three fifty, tell me. Then I’ll have ten seconds to pull my head from the wall.”

He headed over to the console. “Two forty five and rising,” he advised. “Dinner tonight, if we live?”

“Mind on the work, Scar,” she told him. She knew his tail was going at the use of his preferred nickname. He was OK and she’d not seen any scars on him…


The doors buckled, then ripped, allowing the void of space to suck the hangar bay doors in as the protective weapon hung limp beside it, having been the target of Alpha’s two and four. The debris cleared as Maze and the rest of her team opened fire on the exposed interior of the ship as the forward weapons drew bearing on the Fallir...

[Amazee Dayzee]

You know I am starting to get the feeling that Katara really isn't a big fan of Aldair when dealing with all of the antics that he has been ordering so he can win this fight. I am honestly not sure how anybody could dislike him but then again I don't work for him on his ship.

[Welsh Halfwit]

74


Queezle staggered against the wall or bulkhead or whatever you wanted to call it on a ship like this. He pushed himself off and down the passageway towards the rear of the ship and, hopefully, a shuttle. He’d learned to fly one a few years ago and he still understood the principles of flight. He moved aside as someone wearing security tags went by. He made a check on a nearly dead Mican who’d been thrown around the hallway and had several broken bones and concussions. He had a choice. Leave her here to die or treat her. He huffed and got to work. He reckoned he could save her. But he couldn’t do it on the floor. He noted the closest door was sealed and began using his Raitchian intellect to override the codes.


“What’s that,” Webley asked as the trio could hear twittering and clicking from the door that was louder than the vid screen.

“I’ll take a look,” Bazil replied, engaging the vid system to see a Raitchian next to a Mican. He couldn’t be sure if the one was alive but the Raitchian was clearly wearing a medical tunic. He stiffened slightly as he assessed the situation. “Andros, head into the bedroom, would you? I think the table’s going to be needed.”

“I can help. I…”

Andros stopped as Bazil snapped his gaze onto him. “Not this time.” There was something about his tone that told Bazil there could be no argument on this and he silently headed into the other room. “Shall we assist ‘the medic’, Matron,” Bazil stated.

“Oh yes,” she replied as Bazil tapped the door open


Webley carried the patient to the table and took the pulse of the patient as Bazil asked questions of the medic and checked the readings, claiming to be a passenger on their way to a remote colony hospital, trying to ease the unease the medic was seemingly feeling. “Lucky you,” he said breezily, “finding a Doctor and nurse when you needed it.” He took the tools from the medic and passed them to Webley after she’d lain the patient on the table. His tone immediately turned colder and more strident after he locked the door again. “Shall we save this patient, Doctor Queezle?”

The doctor froze, his eyes widening in panic as he reasoned his cover was blown. “How..? How..?”

“Tell you later. Now,” he indicated, “the patient.”

The door to the bedroom opened again and Andros stormed out, face contorted in rage that almost had his eyes aflame as Bazil stood between him and Queezle. “IS THIS HIM,” the youth demanded sharply, his voice seeming to vibrate as the temperature in the room rose several degrees.

“Andros,” Bazil stated, “calm down. It’s definitely him but we need to save this patient first, then get him to work on you.”

“I want this out now,” Andros stormed.

“It will be dealt with,” Bazil stated, shifting slightly so the youth could see the Mican. “We need him to help us save this life. Then we’ll make him work on you to sort this out.”

“I refuse to work under threat…” Queezle started, before Matron Webley, holding him tightly, leaned in and whispered into his ear. “I, uh, mean I’ll assist in all ways,” he relented. Andros gripped the back of the sofa and broke it with one hand. “Mess… uh, message received,” he told the angry youth, running a finger around his throat to pull his shirt and let the heat out.

“She looks a bit like Sarah,” Andros told Bazil, before heading back into the bedroom.


Maze’s fighter’s fire tore through the unprotected shuttle bay and into the walls of the interior ship, ratcheting holes into the interior of the ship at pace until the walls blew out, exposing more of the interior to the vacuum and jettisoning metalwork and meat out into the expanse as the ships power systems began to flicker and die under the onslaught. Maze grimaced as she heard an unfamiliar voice in her headset and glanced around before realising what was about to happen. “All fighters,” she commanded, “break off!” She powered away with her team before the main cannons of the Peygan fired on the crippled ship, bucking it upwards as the beams slammed down on the top aft of the ship, breaking it in two.


Grovan could see the attack on screen and asked his chief engineer if they happened to have engines yet.

<“Just coming on now, sir,”> the voice replied <“Shields are next.”>

“Make it quick, Lieutenant,” he told them. “We have wreckage in our future.”

<“Understood,”> the replied as Grovan engaged the thrusters to try to move the ship out of the way or, at least, get it behind an asteroid to protect it from the fast moving pieces of metal. They couldn’t rely on the Peygan as the remaining Lappinean ship was closing on them from behind, as the Loper was trying to get on it’s tail. It was a mess in space and his main security officer had just told him Queezle had escaped.

“Find him,” Grovan groused. “Check the shuttle bay and the rooms in lockdown. “If we live, we need something to show for this.” The ship moved slowly towards protection. Grovan didn’t feel she was going to make it. He had a thing about optimism. It just wasn’t him. No offence to anyone else but he was a cards on the table kind of canine. If the engines failed now or if anything else shut down as they tried to put solid rock between themselves and an explosion, they were dead meat.

“Match,” Hawle advised as the systems reports came in and the battle began to power down, “If I were to ask you ‘how much more of this can we take’ would you give me an honest answer or lie to be optimistic?”

“I’d probably lie to avoid wetting myself,” the scientist replied. “Put it this way,” he added, pointing up at the ceiling as Tyne continued firing, “a few more bangs and that lot’d come down through the lighting array.”

“Good job it’s ending now then,” Tyne stated, making Hawle stare at her. “What?”

“Did you HAVE to jinx it,” the Captain asked as Dawton reported two more ships coming in from different directions. “See,” Hawle charged. “Identities?”

“One’s Lappinean,” Match advised.

Hawle sighed. “The other?”

Match grinned.


“That’s a sight for sore eyes,” Hawle admitted as the other ship slipped into real space and dragged the Fallir to safety with her traction beams. The legend across her side read ‘U.S.C. Rodomont’.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I bet that Aldair is really happy that they have back up since the Loper probably would have been destroyed in the battle otherwise since it couldn't take much more of the blasts it was being hit with. Though I kind of am hoping that the Captain of the Rodomont points out that they saved them and tells Hawle that he owes them. LOL

[Welsh Halfwit]

75


Hawle couldn’t help but notice things had gone a little quickly in the last ten minutes. The Lappinean ship that had been coming in had decided not to as the Rodomont had got there before them and they were beginning to count the dead and Hawle was noting there were far fewer Lappineans from the dead ships than there should be. Taking that and adding it to the substandard performance of the ships and the minimal launch of fighters and he was beginning to wonder if there was some automation going on here. But it was as is, he supposed and he’d checked in with Grovan as to the condition of the Fallir. After that, he’d contacted Katara, who’d told him not to even think about sending a team over to the clipper as all teams were needed here and the teleport was down anyhow. He’d lied and told her he’d never even have considered it with the way the ceiling was on the bridge. She’d sighed, told him she’d get someone up there to look it over and cut the line before he could.

“The Rodomont’s hailing,” Dawton advised.

Hawle stood up and dusted fur that hadn’t fallen from his head off the jacket it hadn’t fallen on. He adjusted his bandolier and flexed his toes in his high top boots before making sure his belt was tight but comfortable around his waist and lower jacket.

“Stop preening and answer her… sir,” Stikka advised. Hawle supposed he had a point and told Dawton to accept the call.


The image of Hilla Xarra, Mican Captain of the battleship, appeared in full widescreen glory and he could see the concern etched in her face. <“Looks like we got here right on time, Aldair,”> she said in greeting. <“One for me, yes?”>

“I’d say the timing was stunning, Captain Xarra,” Hawle admitted. “The Rodomont continues to scare the enemy. Thankfully. And I’m not counting.”

<“Going soft on us, Aldair? You’ve never thanked the Rodomont before. What’s your situation?”>

“Damage to several primary sectors. Shields are barely online. The Fallir’s roughly the same. Our Raitchian friends are probably also damaged. The Fallir also has the Macguffin and the Doctor who needs to operate on him. From what Doctor Fuze has told me with regards the MacGuffin’s emotional state, they dare not wait any longer. They need a full on medical institution. Like you have.”

Xarra leaned closer to the screen. <“Pardon? Control just told us to head to this area as ‘the mad rabbit’ might need help. He didn’t say anything else.”>

Hawle rolled his eyes. “Ask the Fallir to teleport the package and the prisoner over to you. I’ll get things started here, patchwise and join you in an hour?”

<“Fair enough,”> she replied as the ceiling collapsed behind Hawle, who did his best to look unruffled, as though that had been planned. The lights began to flicker. <“Make it ninety minutes,”> she offered.

He nodded. The screen cleared. Hawle glanced at the debris behind him and jumped away. “Delayed reaction,” he claimed. “I need my reflexes tested. He tapped his comm. “Hawle to Katara,” he stated.

<“What now, sir?”>

“Nix the ceiling observation. The job’s just fallen through.”

<“Understood.”> A beat of silence. <“All all right up there?”>

“Seems so. Thanks Katara.”


“If he doesn’t live, I’ll end your practice forever,” Doctor Flakk warned Queezle as Andros lay, under anaesthetic, on the operation table on the Rodomont some fifteen minutes later. Doctor Fuze had told the Wolven Doctor a potted history of the situation and his work second, Doctor Kelly Cobalt, had had to stop him going in and breaking Queezle’s legs right at that moment. He wasn’t fond of genetic experimentation and adding a child to that situation was beyond the pale. Then there was the added fact that, succeed or fail, they’d have to let Queezle go as, technically, he’d done nothing wrong.

Queezle breathed out and brought the gene resequence programme online. “It might be too late to extract,” he admitted, adding “but I should be able to stabilise it” as he sensed a Wolven hand closing on his throat.


Bazil and Webley watched on from outside the room with Sarah having just joined them. The Mican teen looked up at the pair. “How come you’re not in there?”

“Too close,” Bazil stated, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Plus the fact that Doctor Flakk is the C.M.O. on this ship and a good choice to be in there with the specialist.”

“Largely because neither of us can trust ourselves, being in a room with that… creature,” Webley added, before looking down at her. “So, you’re Sarah. Hmph, he had a point.” She didn’t elaborate but mused how there was a resemblance to the Mican they’d managed to save on the clipper ship. Even if she might lose some mobility. And a limb, perhaps.


“I have to thank you, Captain Chanderra,” Hawle said, meeting the Raitchian in Xarra’s conference room and choosing to offer a hand in friendship as Xarra watched on. “How’s your ship?”

“Holding up after combat,” Chanderra responded. Twelve dead. Eighteen wounded. I doubt it was worth it.”

“You’re almost certainly correct. But we’ll copy you in on the Queezle results.”

“Hold on..,” Xarra interrupted. “That hasn’t been approved…”

“It’s the deal,” Hawle replied. “And there’s no way we can stop it, Captain Xarra. “The evidence has degraded over time and we have exactly the same information. Captain Chanderra was never the primary enemy and I’d rather he keeps his position. Especially,” he sighed, “with my own government playing up.”

Xarra mused on that last. “Yes. It does seem they’ve perfected a way of remote controlling their ships. The lack of bodies in that last fight…”

“But we saw bodies flushed into space,” Chanderra protested.

“I had two brought aboard for Doctor Barleycorn and Dack to take a look at them. They’re still working but they state there’s no sign of decompression damage on either of them. They weren’t spaced to death. They were already dead.”

“Chanderra cringed. “That’s not good. Remote controlled, hmm? Probably explains how that insane turn you did worked.”

“Well, one of my mottos is ‘if the enemy knows your play book, invent something on the fly that’s too stupid to go in one.’.

“That’s a stupid motto.”

“Explains why it works.”

“Now what do we do about the situation,” Xarra asked.