METAMORPHIC

[Welsh Halfwit]

((Called it that rather than a normal title as I don't much mention the heroes until the end of the part.))

One


Turva lay on his back on the hillside, away from the filming set and blinked at the stars overhead. Sometimes they moved and it wasn’t as though it was the satellites they had up there that was throwing the light back at them whilst the sun was out on the other side of Salvettia. He thought about seeing that other side on occasion, almost as often as he wondered about the stars and the occasional spots that moved between them. There were shining atolls there, on the south side of the planet, and the females there were reputed to be extremely willing in the novels he’d read, not that he’d paid much attention to those and he’d tried other books but they’d not been so interesting. Did those who sailed between the stars have books, he wondered? Turva honestly believed that people did that. He refused to believe the dwindling truth propagated by the Governments that Salvettia was the only planet in the universe that supported life. He thought the chance of the billion to one chance of life only being present on this one world was weak. There were more than a billion stars in the space beyond the sky and even those beyond sight. Astronomers had proven this over and over. There were worlds beyond worlds. There had to be.


Turva breathed out, his dry chest fur undulating in the light wind of the evening as he considered a swim in the late evening as he turned away from the view and out over the field of silvebreems, their petals open in the moonlight that glinted off the sea behind them in the normally quiet peninsula he called home. It had been a local sensation when the film crew had announced they were coming up here to film some of the latest ‘Hassidia Dovac’ film up here. It was something to watch before it got released and they had to pay to watch it. Plus he’d not be seeing it here as he’d have to go to the college in one of the big towns as he was turning of adult age over the season. He’d be leaving his world and coming into a new one that he’d only seen on television.


He sloped past the home he shared with his family and down to the water front, stepping into the water that folded itself around his body and accepted him as part of it’s world. It’s embrace clung to him as he began pushing his powerful muscles through the blue green surface as his eyes adjusted to the environment, sliding a waterproof film over his eyes so he could dive for food, which he did now, feeling the hunger of those who’d not eaten for half the clock and seams on his nostrils acted like airlocks, not allowing water in but letting him breathe out as he tunnelled down, his sharp eyes watched the moonlit depths for his favourite… There. A Grumblejack. He pushed through the small shoal of Dobleys, scattering them around him as he pushed through into the depths, close to the edge of his dive limits. It hadn’t seen him yet but he doubted it would be long. He opened his mouth, his sharp teeth glinting as his tongue compressed against the back of his throat to seal the airway as he closed.


His teeth impacted the Grumblejack’s flesh and he gripped tight before turning under the water and pushing for the surface. He had to remember to breathe out on the way up, ignoring the desperate food squirming and reacting and battering his face with its scaled tail as he brought it closer to the death of air above it’s liquid home. He didn’t much care. He was thinking of Jalda, his supposed to be mate as he headed for the liquid moon overhead. They’d been pledged for a decade, growing together. Growing closer. They were to be going to the big town together, living together for the first time. Then, last week, she and her mother had left the area. No explanation. No message. They’d just simply… gone. Everyone was just saying they’d been bored here, they wanted to get away and he wondered about that. He’d almost have believed it if it hadn’t been for them going to town together. It wasn’t normal these days but it was still permitted for someone’s parent to accompany them for a year or so to ensure things would work out well. So there had been no reason to leave.


He broke the surface and his ears and nose unsealed to allow him to breath again as his prey began to lose its’ struggle. The prey he’d lost in his younger days to the simple act of opening his mouth… He pushed himself towards the beach he’d left from and strode up onto the side, his fur shining in the light and feeling cold against the sopping clothes he wore for public decency. He glanced up at the stars again, to give thanks to what lived behind them for his night time meal as he held the fish in his hands and teeth until it stopped moving. His family had taught him there was no honour in eating things alive, no matter the violence in the catch. So he waited until the thing had passed before crunching down through the bones into the flesh of the creature and feel the explosion of fluid across his tongue as the feast began. Something was unusual. One of the stars was moving as he watched, almost forgetting to crush the bones sufficiently with his back teeth before swallowing. Myth held that the goddesses of night sometimes moved the lights around in history but that had been before history began and they normally talked of things scorching the atmosphere sheath of the planet for the blazing lights now but this didn’t seem to be that. It seemed more like it was getting closer to him. It was still too far away to concern but he’d take a look through his vision extender when he got back home, perhaps. He felt the sand through his toes and felt it clag. It’d dry off soon enough. He enjoyed the taste of his dinner as he walked and discarded the useless edges to either side, roughly where he usually did. He heard something humming behind him as he got back within sight of his home. Almost in concern, he turned around and saw the new star was almost the size of the moon now…


Two days later, Commander Erwin Dane looked out on some of the same stars from the bridge of his ship and wondered on the planets in the system. They were under orders not to approach the planets in this system as they hadn’t achieved star travel yet, only having a level of technology equivalent to the 32 leavan period on Felis so they stayed out here and 'fished' for information from signals. He gave some consideration to the paradise of being alone in the universe on a world that was ninety percent water. No duties to other worlds. No interplanetary wars or contagions to fight. Just being alone to live in the stars. The Council sent ships to scan from high orbit and analyse how long until contact could be initiated. For this lot, according to the records, it would take a few hundred years or so and…

“Sir,” Hewelstone said from the communications station, “I THINK we have a problem.”

“How do you mean?”

“Monitoring Salvettia and their news output, sir. Apparently there’s visual proof of one of their people being… um… abducted by Aliens.”

“Like anyone would believe that,” Dane replied with a smirk.

“They might do,” Hewelstone commented. “A film crew recorded it.” The Shrewvian’s eye glinted as he put the video on the main screen.

“A Fawren 76 clipper,” Dane replied tightly. “This IS trouble. Get Gerry up here.”

IOC DAYRIN

[Amazee Dayzee]

I am sure that this is going to be a very thrilling story that you are gonna share with us! I can already tell that the plot for it is going to be very intense from what I just read!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Two


Evangeline Gerry sat in her quarters, going over the last few missions of her IOC team. They’d succeeded by the skin of their teeth on Xanda, with Dalton’s bugs managing to sabotage the bomb at the last minute following advice from his work partner Marcus, the Celican having claimed he’d seen it in a comic book. With that done, they’d managed to capture the gang trying to rob the secure store and only putting two of them in hospital after the Fleman giant agent Keila Sweetstalks had blocked their escape into the streets. They’d handed them over to the local police, who’d been irritated as they’d been after this group for a year and, as they pointed out, the IOC were only involved because they’d stolen the explosives from a U.S.C. barracks so it was partly the federals fault. And they were leaving the police to do the worst part of the work. The paperwork. Gerry gave herself a rueful grin as she thought on how she’d always hated that, back on Haldana, when she was on the Police side. She’d had Amy file the expenses, the Android Feline proving more than her own in respects to her duties and Gerry had almost felt sorry when she had to tell her that she couldn’t be a full time field agent as they had to blend in – at least slightly – and she was a six foot five, three hundred pound feline with a shiny metal frame and an unmoving mouth. Otherwise she’d take her when she could. Amy claimed she didn’t have any emotions for the Investigator to offend but Gerry had to admit she’d seen the android wearing a jacket these last few days. She’d have to consult with Postain on that. Officially, Amy was on loan from the University on Dartina. They might charge for repairs, even though it was clear they didn’t want it back. And she seemed to be making a relationship with Hannay, the Dayrin’s cranky Jondahl Engineer, who’d discovered that his best insults didn’t work on her. Was she programmed for flirting? Anyhow, that had gone well. Even the vehicle teleport had worked perfectly. Better than on Devlan, where the thing had malfunctioned and all four of them, Furbright, Seelevan, Sweetstalks and herself had needed to share the pickup truck.


She was about to get onto the next mission report when the wallcomm booped and the Shrewvian comms operator appeared on the screen. “What’s up, Barnard?”

The operator looked a little unsure. <“Uh, we might have an issue,”> he said. <“On Salvettia.”>

“Salvettia is not a Council world, Barnard,” Gerry reminded him. “It’s pre-astra and we have no jurisdiction or reason to go there.” She peered at the screen. “So why are you telling me?”

<“According to their news, one area’s had a number of disappearances over the last few weeks, Investigator. They’d not been thinking anything out of the ordinary. Until three nights back when a film crew recorded this.”>

He played the footage and Gerry forced herself to her feet. “I’ll be right up,” she announced.


Leaving her quarters – or apartment, if she wanted to be more accurate – Gerry almost bumped into Commander Switt as the Mican chased her cat. “Marble, be fair,” she called. “He couldn’t stay, it’s not safe!” She slapped her hips as the feline, unwilling to hear such logic, nipped around the corner.

“Still missing the boy?”

Switt sighed. “Only somewhat. My folks are loving the chance to parent another kid. He couldn’t stay here. Not with our life.”

“Won’t hear me disagree, Commander. Not sure about the cat, though.”

Switt sighed. “I suppose so. You’re out late. Finishing reports?”

“No,” Gerry replied as they walked towards the lifts. “There’s been alien abductions on Salvettia. And a Mican ship was seen and filmed at the last abduction.”

Switt’s shoulders slumped. “This is going to be a thing, isn’t it?”

“Possibly,” Gerry commented as they arrived at the tubes. “But Erwin might not leave you in charge at any point this time.”

“Can I have that in writing?”


As they reached the bridge, the pair could see that the Dayrin was moving slowly through the system, so as to not alert the primitive space scanning facilities on the occupied planet to their presence. Just cosmic debris, floating past. Strictly speaking they shouldn’t even be this close but Dane had decided to take a lead and see if they could pick up the velocity trail of the ship from a few days ago. Ordinarily there would be little chance of picking it up after three days but there was so little space travel around here so the link might still be there but they needed to be closer than this. Closer than safe if they hadn’t the new coating. Not as close as the Fawren had gotten, of course, where it had been picked up on a film camera by a camera… whatever… who was probably enduring their 15 days as the most famous person on the planet. Until some celebrity married a pineapple or something. Dane glanced around slightly, allowing the show of body language after his ear twitch had identified the incoming. The heavy clump of the Investigator and the hesitant breeze of Commander Switt. “We’re heading closer to the abduction site to pick up the trail,” he advised. “And yes, Gerry, we’ll be making sure we’re not scanned.. Even if they have turned more of their telescopes towards space for obvious reasons.”

“Never thought you’d do anything else, Erwin,” Gerry replied. “How long until we can scan? We have no need to go down there, in case you were wondering. The crime happened up here. Crimes plural, if you believe the reports.”

“I thought a disappearance was just a disappearance until it’s proven otherwise,” Dane asked with amusement.

“That rule is liquid,” Gerry asserted. “Sometimes it just leaks out.”

“Sounds messy,” Switt replied, taking her seat next to the Captain.

“Speak softly,” Gerry remarked, “and carry a mop.”


An hour later, the ship was in position to commence and Patch, a piebald Raitchian who acted as the night shift science officer, began running his scans. Dane kept drumming his claws on the arms of the chairs until Patch advised they had a trail.


Elsewhere, Turva fought his way back to a woken state, finding himself in somewhere dark and sterile. His throat felt sore and his ear was burning, as though they’d done something to him and he put fingers to the skin to find a slight ridge against his throat. He called out but his voice sounded hollow. The door slid open slightly and painful light crept in before the door sealed again and a plate with a fish on it was there, along with water in a container. He pushed himself over towards the food. “W...who a...are you,” he asked.

“Better you don’t know,” the voice replied.

[Amazee Dayzee]

When a disembodied voice tells you that you shouldn't know who they actually are, that pretty much means that they aren't your ally in the long run. So if you hear the voice again just be sure to be on your guard.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Three


The quartet sat on the four sides of their tiny table in the Hawkrin shuttle, with Amy hovering, golem-like, in the corner of the room. Dalton had almost been going to offer his seat out of gallantry but he’d recalled her always telling him that she did not need to sit and changing it, last time to the fact that sitting like that for periods of time increased the wear on her servomatic systems when she got up. He had the feeling a certain engineer had trained her in that line but he had no proof. As it was the young Lappinean agent merely watched the holodisplay of the video of the Fawren 76 showing up on camera. “I bet their conspiracy theorists are celebrating,” he opined.

“I bet their military is,” Marcus replied, holding his Celican chin on one hand. “Every fear they have about aliens has just been proven correct. They’re a threat to planetary security and the populace need to be protected. Spending on developing new weapons is about to skyrocket, if you’ll forgive the pun.”

“They will advance fast enough that they may not evolve sensibilities to match,” Amy said, using her new vocal synthesiser. It was concerning to Gerry that she couldn’t make out the mechanical difference in the voice now but she was primed to let it slide. It meant Amy was good at imitating voices on comm calls if deception was needed.

“Heard that before,” Gerry grumbled.

“Conversations like that are for the diplomats,” Keila stated, banging a fist on the table hard enough to make the assembled mugs dance. “We need to focus more on the people.”

Gerry smiled warmly at her intimidating colleague, who always had trouble fitting under the desk, which was chest height for the others. “Whilst the social upheaval of an entire planet is something we should consider, Keila,” she admonished gently, “that IS something better left for the diplomats.” The display changed to an upwardly widening arrow of pictures, fifteen of the locals who, the computer techs under Danes command had found, had vanished in the last few months from the fifty miles or so around the sighting location. “These are the missing,” she advised. “Last one,” she added, pointing to the lowest picture, “vanished from the area the ship was seen in at around the time it was there. Others are unconfirmed.”

“Stealing one at a time seems rather a faff,” Marcus said, playing with a meatball before popping it in his mouth and ‘popping’ it to release the juices inside. Why just one?”

“People tend to notice when entire towns go missing,” Amy interjected, gaining an approving point of the finger from Gerry. “When the cost of achieving orbit is minimal, there is nothing to stop the ship rising and diving for their fish.”

“You’re getting better at allegories,” Marcus told her.

“Thank you, Marcus. I have been practising.”

“That’s been considered,” Gerry advised. “Dane’s left behind a surveillance package designed to orbit the planet, find out if any other isolated communities have reported missing people and send it to us.”

“And I’ll tell you,” said a voice that made them jump, all except Amy. They looked into the dark interior of their office as Midnight opened her eyes. “Forgot I was here, didn't you?”

“YES,” Marcus protested loudly as the dark blue Lappinean, a tech based friend of Keila’s from her militia days, smiled and turned her table lamp on to illuminate herself. “Why can’t I smell you,” the hunter demanded.

“Scent neutraliser,” she stated. “Works at about five feet.”

“Really?”

“No, you’re so gullible. You’re just used to my scent, Marcus. Anyhow, I’ll be providing the reports and I’ve sent cursory requests for missing people to several of the other colonies galnet systems. My requests will check the local message boards and, reports.”

“Good thinking,” Gerry admitted, having been wondering how to get that organised anyhow. “Dane’s following the velocity wake as fast as we can but we’re going to lose that as soon as we get to the busier space ways so any information on other ‘missing people’ might help identify possible locations for them.”

“How so,” Dalton asked.

Amy looked almost like she wanted to say something, Gerry noted, the slight shift in body language alerting her to the fact as Amy reconsidered for a split second. “Go ahead, Amy,” she encouraged.

“The Salvettians appear to be aquatic mammals,” she stated. “Logic would dictate that they would be best enslaved in a place that has a lot of water.”

“Plenty of those worlds around the patch,” Marcus commented, having winced at the ‘slave’ word as he thought how loaded the word was for someone who had been programmed to obey the demands of a rogue scientist until they’d managed to change the code and free her of a responsibility to follow such orders.

“If we follow that path,” Keila added, “we can eliminate any populated by Castorans or the like.” She shrugged. “If they’re working in the water, they can do it themselves.”

Midnight entered the details of the prospective search. “Gives us fifteen water worlds in the patch,” she advised. “Four of them run by non aquatics. Two of them with water similar to Salvettia.. More river quality than standard sea.”

“The feline is here,” Amy said as Marble commenced wandering around the room, hissing at Marcus as he went.


An hour or so later, Housan, the Quollan helm officer, brought the ship to a near standstill, drifting close to the moon of Mirtanna, a Mican colony as the velocity trails sputtered to a stop amid the distortions of a more popular colony with active space lanes and a vaguely important star port. Dane looked at the back of the Quollan’s head. “You’re going to tell me you can’t follow the trail further, aren’t you, Nath?”

“Afraid so, sir. But we know the time the Mican came past so…”

“Their star port command might have picked it up. Hewelstone, make the connection and ask.”

“On it, sir.” The Shrewvian started work to signal the local port and stopped part way. “Sir,” he reported. “That buoy we left just signalled in. From it’s first sweep..? There’s over thirty missing Salvettians.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

If there are that many people then something is definitely going on and they should investigate. I have no doubt that they will but I kind of am already wishing it is as chaotic as when the Loper crew looks into things.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Four


Dane had his considerations to make now. A signal had come in from a crippled civilian ship needing repairs after an encounter with a micro meteor when the deflection systems failed. They weren’t far away from the situation so it shouldn’t be that much of a diversion. He understood the need for speed whilst chasing the abducted but the jurisdiction was still spotty in this case. He’d sent a request for a consultation to Postain but the Admiral was in a meeting and couldn’t be disturbed for several hours as he battered a colonial president into allowing the expansion of a U.S.C. land base on their land with a state dinner. He’d contacted Midnight with the information as he really hadn’t felt like admitting there were at least thirty possibly missing people. Midnight had informed him of the teams thoughts on where the ship might be going and he had to admit they had a point and there were a few possibilities to consider whilst Housan consulted with Mirtannan space control.


Switt sat in the command chair and wondered when she’d stopped wondering what she was doing here. She’d been a ground based officer for most of her career, able to avoid responsibility by using the hierarchy to get others to do it for her and she’d had a quiet life. Now she was here, managing her way through taking command by… using the hierarchy to have others do it for her. But she was the one who’d had to give orders in battle, even if she’d not been sure the crew had actually paid attention to all the orders. She’d spent time in the hologram room, running simulations to increase her confidence and experience as she didn’t want to get the ship killed by mistaking port from starboard. Again. She still added ‘please’ to most of her commands and she liked to keep things simple, such as when Dane had told her they were needing to help this ship. She’d notified Harrison and Schole about what they were about to do and simply told Housan to ‘take them to that ship, please.’ She had little clue as to co-ordinates other than she was supposed to use three axis to instruct the helm but the helm was supposed to be the driver so why should she need to know co-ordinates if they did? “Any word from Spaceport control, Hewelstone?”

“Not that’s reached me, Commander,” Hewelstone told her, with a certain amount of flippancy that he’d never use with Dane. “I will tell you as soon as I hear anything.”

“Oh, good.” She checked the readings on the armrest. Twenty minutes from the destination, according to the computer. She brought the ship up on screen. It was little bigger than a shuttle, she reckoned. Possibly big enough for a single family to wander around in and, according to the logs, capable of velocity two at full burn, whatever that meant. “Are they still broadcasting,” she asked, meaning the ship ahead.

“Broadcasting but seemingly not receiving,” the Shrewvian replied.

“Meaning pirates could be on their way to her as well. Should we get the fighters ready, in case?”

She seemed unsure, so Hewelstone turned towards her. “Commander,” he stated clearly.

“Yes, Hewelstone,” she replied, wondering if she was about to be lectured by a slightly stroppy subordinate.

“You are the Commander,” he stated. “The crew follow your orders and the Captain won’t be offended if you prepare for the worst.”
Having said his bit, he turned back to his console as she told him to ready Keri Coran and her flight.


The Russellian pushed herself into a thirty second ice shower and dressed in enough clothing to cover her modesty as she cursed Hewelstone for not giving her more warning. Her boots were insulated so the fabric helped absorb the wet from her barely dried self as she got to the flight deck ahead of her handful of subordinates, forcing her barrel chest into the flight suit and readying her helmet for use as the crews checked their starlancers for deficiencies that would stall them in a firefight. “We ready, Chief,” Coran asked.

“As we can be, given no warning,” the Chief, an amused Raitchian advised. “If you need to take them out, return them unpunched, would you?”

“I only fly them,” Coran protested, “I don’t crash them.” She looked at him. He looked at her. Neither spoke for half a moment before she cracked. “OK, I don’t crash them in space, OK?” She waved a hand and turned around as though to dismiss him. “I’m working on my land landings.”

“School playgrounds will rejoice,” the Chief told her.


Doctor Darcy Chizelhurst, Chief Medical Officer to the Dayrin and Medical Examiner to the IOC team boarded on it, readied her medical pack for the trip she was about to take, even if Dane was insistent that there was no real need for her experience and she should assign one of her staff to do it. She’d given short shrift to that as she’d been on ship for months now and wanted to stretch her aging legs. Schole, suited and booted, would go over first to repair the holes in the hull. One of Harrison’s security Officers would go with him for, well, security. They’d take an atmosphere generator with them.


Gerry was wondering where they were going so she’d checked the destination on the system in her office. She rolled her eyes but supposed they had to go and help. She hoped it wasn’t going to end their investigation before it even had a chance to really begin. One of her plans was to look into construction projects involving water in the local colonies. Ones where they weren’t spending as much on manpower – funny how she still used that term – as they should be. She was spitballing ideas as she had nothing to go on right now. Suppositions were rife now, waiting for facts to help them stabilise and lay out the path.


“I’m reading three lifesigns,” Patch reported. “They’re not in great shape. It wasn’t one micro meteor. If there had been any more, the Humans might have sold it as cheese.”

Dane didn’t turn to look at him. “Never mind the humour, Patch, can we beam them out?”

“No, it looks like they have anti piracy systems that prevent that. We have the override to beam onto their teleport pad.”

“Hewelstone, send them over.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

They better get to them in time in that case then since it sounds like they don't have too long to live. Sounds like they were lucky to survive the catastrophe that they had experienced and didn't end up becoming cheese.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Did you note the name of the Quollan helmscreature?

Nath Hausan?

That's Hlaoroo, that is...

[Amazee Dayzee]

Is that his name in real life because the only other name I know him by other than his username is Furrhan Blackwood. One of the many things that I need spelled out to me since I can be quite oblivious sometimes when I am engrossed in a story.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Well, it's close enough. I did ask permission first.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Yeah then I wouldn't have known that was supposed to be a shout out to Furrhan in that case because I never asked for his name in real life. Then again even if I did ask I would probably be told to jump off a cliff.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Five

The cell was black. Blacker than he’d seen in the depths of water around home. He could feel the hum of something he assumed was an engine creating a faint vibration in the ship but it wasn’t like it was moving through the seas around the islands. He remembered it being above the land but such a vehicle couldn’t hover without putting out a devastating amount of noise and he’d heard nothing on the night he’d been taken. How long had it been? Four days? Five? Enough that his eyes had already become attuned to the enhanced blackness in here. He was sure he’d been moved. He was able to pick out slight differences in the room when the shaft of light came in to blitz his vision. The people wouldn’t talk to him. Not much. One had said they were being taken to work for a living. They, he’d said. There were more here. He wasn’t alone.


He’d found there was a door here, feeling it with his fingerclaws after working out the food shaft was probably part of a door, like in ‘The Marshalls of Mannaburga’. There was no handle on this side but he imagined they could open it. He wanted to feel fluid around him for a short period. He felt different again this morning. His lungs burned. He fingered his chest for what he knew would be there. The light ridge of a scar. His neck twitched. There were rips there too. But there was no pain connected to them. He wass till scared now, but he’d gotten used to the fear so he was able to operate through it. There was something else here, up on the wall. It felt like a Galsan screen. No buttons, though. No switches. No buttons. No…


A soft light spotted on in the room, snapping Turva’s attention to it as it shone down on a piece of floor to one side of the room. The metal started to slide away to reveal… water? He looked at the small pool, roughly large enough for him to lie in, if not swim. It looked inviting. It looked desirable. It looked like a trap. For the first time in his last decade Turva was afraid of the fluids. He looked at it, eyes wide.
“Lie in the water,” a voice said from beyond the door. The same voice he’d spoken to over the days. The only voice that had spoken to him/

“W...why,” Turva asked.

“Because they want you to.”

“I…” He swallowed. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Do it or you’ll wake in there next time. Do it now and I can tell you something.”

Turva’s ears pricked. “Like… like what?”

“Get in and I’ll tell you.”

It sounded like a fair deal so Turva made a decision and took his clothes off. He didn’t trust the voie enough to risk damaging his clothes as they were all he had (although he was thankful he’d found a toilet in the corner) and he dipped into the water. It was relaxing. Not quite like home but fully acceptable. He leaned back so his heaed was almost under the water as he lay down. “What is it you can tell me,” he asked.

“Breathe as normal and don’t panic,” the voice said before a transparent layer trapped him under the water. He hammered on the covering, beginning to panic. The voice spoke through tiny speakers. Soothing, trying to calm. <“I said calm down, Turva. Don’t panic. You’ll be OK. Just relax...”>


Hannay Schole commented that someone was *(&^ing going to pay for doing a substandard job on the deflection systems to cause this mess but he’d managed to patch enough of the holes in the hull that the atmosphere generator should be able to refill the breathable air and trace any remaining holes to fill those. He admitted the father of the family had been brave enough when the others had been sealed in to an undamaged area and he’d shut down the air circulation system to ensure his wife and son had enough air to survive whilst he tried to keep the ship away from any new micro meteor storms after the shields had lost power. He’d almost asphyxiated here and Darcy was already requesting Hewelstone to communicate with the nearest colony to make ready for someone suffering from deep physical exposure and trauma. From what she could tell he’d been halfway blinded by the exposure and she’d given him something to strengthen his heart as it had begun to fail. The family were frightened, Schole was cursing. The security guard was imposing. Chizelhurst was doing her best to block everything out and be encouraging. “You taking him back, Darcy,” Schole asked, remembering not to be rude to the Medical Examiner.

“I’ll have to,” she replied, almost forgetting the family were there. “Exposure like this is bad beyond the initial exposure. It freezes the…” She heard the guard cough and remembered who was in the room with them. “Yes. The recovery will be long,” she stated. She looked up at the Canine wife and their crossbreed children. “He’s going to need you,” she stated. “How’s your insurances?”

Fu...fully paid up,” the mother stated, holding her boys, “but I thought..?”

“Oh, I don’t mean for us, sweetie,” Darcy stated. “He won’t be able to leave Mirtanna for months. You’ll need to sort out things financially.” She glanced around. “This will ship the bills for quite some time.”

“We have funds,” the wife said tightly. “We’ll manage.”

“Good. Now, we’ll head back over to the Dayrin. Schole, is this ship up for tow?”

“Low velocity speeds,” Hannay replied. “Don’t want to damage it further,” he continued, glancing at her. “Don’t want to damage their property value, do we?”


Midnight kept an ear out for anything from Hewelstone as Keila ‘crept up’ behind her best friend and put her arm back, extending a pointer that poked up the Fleman Giant’s nose. “Getting sneakier there, Keila,” she admitted. “I almost didn’t detect you before you entered the room.”

“I’m an eight foot tall, two foot wide Lappinean capable of bench pressing a compact car, ‘night,” she told her happily, removing the stick. “The fact I can do stealth at all is something,”

“True. How you finding life recently?”

Keila sat. “Hmh. Looking for a mate is pretty annoying. Only Harrison might do and he’s…”

“Whoa,” Midnight said, waving her hands. “Too much info. There’s more to life that that, you know?”

Keila grinned. She knew. She just liked flustering her friend.


How was he breathing? This was longer than he’d ever been underwater. It was beginning to become a strain but his panic had subsided. What was happening to him?

[Amazee Dayzee]

Glad to see that he isn't worried about being underwater for too long and is somehow not drowning but not sure it will last. So he better find what he needs to find and then get the heck back to the surface.

[Welsh Halfwit]

And this starts off with a short scene seen in the last 'Loper' story. From the other side.

Six.


Gerry was already at her desk as Amy strode into the IOC office aboard ship as the Dayrin rescued the civilians and noted she was talking on the screen to a Lappinean officer she knew from the files and she enquired as to what Commander Hawle of the Loper had wanted when the call finished.

Gerry sighed. “You, judging by the way his eyes followed you across the room.”

“This is understandable,” Amy replied, seemingly straightening up slightly despite having perfect bearing. “I am a wonderful associate.”

Gerry grinned, laying a crack between her lips to show her teeth. “You are, indeed. No, it seems the shuttle we found over Dartina has been found. The beacon Harrison set up is signalling.”

“Do you think it will help in our quest for answers?”

“Unknown.” She leaned back in the chair, making it creak slightly. “From what he said it appears to be static. So it might have been found, the signal discovered and cast adrift. It might be on a ship that was attacked, it might simply have broken down. I’m sure Aldair will let us know in time.” She coughed a laugh. “Who am I kidding? He’ll probably just keep it.”

The servos in Amy’s neck whirred slightly as she turned her head towards the Human. “It is not in the files that you knew Commander Aldair Hawle.”

“He came to Haldana as a Lieutenant. There was an… incident. He involved himself in the investigation. There were… times. And a lunch or two. And a pratfall routine involving pies.” She shook her head. “Nevermind. How is the rescue going?”

Amy twitched. “The family is being brought aboard and their ship is being taken in tow to Mirtanna.”

Gerry found an apple in her drawer and flicked it into the air, catching it on it’s way down like a baseball. “Good.” She stopped for a second. “Run a check on the family, would you? I’ve heard of civilian jolly trips but I can still be suspicious.”

“They have, seemingly, done nothing to warrant such an investigation,” Amy protested.

“I get that. Run it anyway. If nothing comes of it, nothing comes of it. But, if we do nothing and it turns out they have warrants out, we risk undermining our mission through incompetence.”

“Understood.”


Midnight pulled her head up from where it had been writing unintelligible words on the screen for several minutes and she regretted her love for physical keys over a tap screen. She bleared at a whine only she could hear as the comm in her ear sounded. It said Hewelstone was calling her. She shook her head and tapped her comm whilst deleting the erroneous text. She listened to him as he said his friend – or was it Hausan’s - had sent the records they were after. And now she had to look through them. Oh, joy. Perhaps she could get one of her programmes to do it. She sighed and started a programme up. She’d check over things manually but it would be much faster via computer. She began looking over everything, with the start point of where the Mican cruiser had come in from. She corrected herself as it wasn’t a Mican cruiser, which would indicate a government being involved, and it was a Fawren cruiser. Those could be bought and didn’t, necessarily, indicate that the hyper-powerful conglomerate was responsible. She blinked. Wow. There were thirty six ships in Mirtannan space control range at the given time and half of them intercepted others in the half hour they were looking at and this was fiercely boring but she ploughed on as she was expected to and… The computer finished its’ run through the half an hour in a moment and she looked at the screen. An anomaly in the numbers appeared. In that time 36 ships passed through the area of space. Seven launched from the colony and left the area. Eight landed. Twenty entered and exited, just passing through. And there was one that entered and never left, according to the numbers.

“What you got, Midnight,” Dalton said, making her jump. “About time one of us did it to you,” the currently gold furred agent said.

“Do that again and you’ll have so many viruses…” she warned, accepting that he might be right. She explained the situation and her fellow Lappinean mused on it. “Yes,” she told him, “I can put up a 3D map, before you ask.”

He nodded in agreement as she brought it up and tabbed in the entry and exit points for all the ships listed as in the area, complete with moons and other, uninhabited, worlds. “It could, easily,” Dalton offered, “just be a case of the ship turning their transponder off as I might if I were person smuggling.”

“Yeah but you’d, surely, do that outside territorial space? Where no-one can really ‘see’ you?” Midnight paused as the travel lines stitched across space with a magnitude of colours and shades. They watched the map grow and lines cross and. “There,” Midnight stated, pointing to a piece of space behind the third moon of the colony’s nearest neighbour. “This trace goes in,” she said, indicating a turquoise line, “but it doesn’t come out.”

“And this line,” Dalton added, gesturing to a vermilion one, “goes right past that area less than ten minutes after the blue line arrives.”

“You need to get your eyes checked,” Midnight grinned. “That line’s green.”

Dalton pretended to be offended. “I’ll have you know my eyes are the sharpest you can get, that line is clearly blue!”

“How can we trust you to identify anything,” she cheeked. “That’s green.”

“OK,” he gave up, “Bluey-green. Either way, we need to go and check things out, don’t we?”

“Why are you asking a mere computer technician?”

“Well,” he preened, “you were here when I discovered it…” He moved nimbly to escape her throwing something at him.


“How’d I know you’d be here,” Marcus asked the pick up truck on the lift in the maintenance bay. Or, rather, the Celican asked the mighty brown feet underneath it that belonged to Keila.”

“It’s where I relax,” she replied, grabbing something that looked like a wrench to her and something uncommon painful to him. “I’m a mechanic by trade. If our vehicles go wrong during a mission, I’m the one getting the blame and that’ll look bad on my reports.”

“The vehicles haven’t fai…” Marcus reasoned what he was saying and the inevitable comeback. “OK. I get it.” He shook his head. “Need a hand?”

“Between dates, are we,” Keila remarked, keeping her tone light so as not to offend.

“Not my fault if I’m gorgeous.”

“And modest. You can go get me a sandwich if you like? Vegan Cheese on raw vegetables. Code 175 if memory serves.”

“Oh, will the thrills never stop,” Marcus complained.


Two hours later, the Dayrin arrived at the colony as Hewelstone heard from the Militia, who’d headed for the area Midnight had informed them of to run preliminary scans. “They want us there as soon as possible,” he told Dane.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Good thing that Marcus isn't apart of the Loper since he seems to not like thrills because everyday is an adventure when you are with Hawle. One of the reasons that Elena is actually with him though there are others.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Seven


The Dayrin left orbit, having dropped off the family and their ship and headed out to where the Militia had summoned them. Gerry had considered having Marcus and Dalton travel down to the planet to keep an eye on the family but, instead, had acquainted herself with the local law in case they needed to follow up on Amy’s searches. They, frankly, didn’t have the time right now.


Time passed and Turva shivered in the corner. He’d stopped wearing his clothing now as it never seemed to dry out from the enclosure in the water. It was going to rip and tear, he believed. He strained his hearing, which seemed to have been altered. He could understand what his captor was saying and he was certain he shouldn’t know the language. He could hear him outside in the silence as they argued, the voice he knew and one he didn’t. He couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying but it was something about being seen and the secret exposed. About ‘taken steps’ to stop the law? Turva marvelled. They had lawkeepers in the void? He’d begun to give up but he kept that close to his heart now. There were people out in space – because he reasoned he had to be out in space, despite everything they’d tried to instil in him – who served laws. Their own laws or Salvettian. He didn’t suppose it mattered. These people were trying to stay under it and, apparently, they’d failed. Lawkeepers were trying to find them. He wondered exactly how they’d find him, though. He wasn’t like he was, he knew that. He could breath in the water like a Gumblejack now, it seemed. At least for a while. Breathing without using his mouth for tens of minutes at a time. Longer, even. He reckoned he could go deeper now as well. But he wasn’t looking to test that anytime soon. In case he was wrong. The voice had said he was to be put to work. What could they want? What was all this for?



Gerry and Marcus looked out of the main viewer at a spread of debris that had, once, been part of a Fawren clipper ship. Hausan had isolated a few pieces of debris that appeared to have sections of a serial number on them that came back to a Fawren 76 clipper that had been removed from the registry last year. “That’s a retirement plan,” Gerry groused as a body was tractored in for Doctor Chizelhurst to work on. It had been in an environment suit so Midnight might have some work to do as well, if the occupant had recorded any logs whilst in the suit, waiting for the oxygen to run out and hoping for rescue that had arrived too late. Letitia was running checks on where the other ship had gone – or, at least, was headed – to see if there was a next stop. “Get Furbright to identify the ship that splashed our friends, Marcus.”

The Celican looked at her askew. “Splashed? Oh, you mean blown the… bits off,” he asked, recalling Commander Dane’s rule about no swearing on the bridge. She glanced at him and he contacted Dalton to give him the instructions.

“Why here,” Gerry asked, stepping close to Dane. “And, indeed, why?”

The Feline shrugged. “Could be how they were always planning to play it out,” he remarked, “provided this isn’t a false destruction. Could be they know we’ve been alerted to the situation. If we saw that broadcast yesterday, they might have seen it two or three days ago, dependant on things. Could be the final mission and the final outcome. We might never know.”

“Uh, sir,” Hausan said, bringing the attention of the pair to the Quollan pilot. “I know how we might be able to find out.” They approached the brown fur marsupial and stood eaither side of him as they waited for him to continue. “Uh, they might have been seen.” He darted his nimble fingers around the console until a picture of the moon they were above came into view. “An old satellite relay station,” he stated.

“It can’t still be operational, can it?”

Switt put in a comment. “According to the scans, it’s still got power running. It’s not transmitting though.”

“Marcus,” Gerry called.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Get your spacesuit on. You’re going on a house call.”

Dane nodded and stated Harrison would be going with him. “Dangerous situation,” he reminded Gerry. “If someone made it there from that ship, they could be armed.”


Harrison grunted as he brought the shuttle down close to the entrance for the satellite station. Without knowinh the interior layout of the small block, and with there being no operational teleport, they had needed the shuttle and, thusly, had no chance of surprise whatsoever based on the fact that someone could just look out of a window to see them coming. “I can confirm someone’s here,” he told Marcus, who stepped up to join him.

“Oh, yeah. A short range shuttle under an overhang. Barely more than a lifepod, that thing.”

“Functional, though. I go in first.”

“Why?”

“I have the force shield.” The Equinna ended the conversation by bringing the top half of his helmet down to a point where a slatted section ran from under his jawline to the neck and clicked into place. His earpieces twitched to show they were operational as Marcus put his on. Microprocessors analysed the movement of Harrison’s mouth to convey clearly what he was saying as his jaw couldn’t move with as much freedom inside the shell. Marcus’s suit appeared on his heads up display and he squinted an eye at it to activate comms. “Online, agent?”

<“Online, Chief,”> Marcus’s name replied. <“Let’s go check if anyone’s home.”> The agent reached for the switch to decompress the shuttle and they waited until the atmosphere drained before opening the door and stepping out onto the cold surface.

“Stay close,” Harrison urged, moving towards the shuttle first. “We heck this first,” he advised. “Last thing we want is them escaping in it.”

Marcus looked up to the faintly ugly satellite of the Dayrin. <“Not like they’ll escape in it,”> he offered.

“I’m talking of the humiliation for us. Our shuttle’s coded so they can’t use it. This would be their only way off.” He ran a scan over it. “And it’s got a charge running to the door. Might detonate if I open it.”

<“So what do we do,”> Marcus asked as Harrison attached something that looked like a cable to the panel on the shuttle.

“Open it,” Harrison replied.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Probably should have clarified that they open it and get out of the way in case it ends up blowing up. Nothing can ruin your day more than getting a stomach full of shrapnel.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Eight


The door hissed as the airlock opened. Harrison’s probe had, hopefully, sealed the inside before the electric charge raced up the line he’d laid out. The Equinna had a second to disconnect before the charge hit his suit and the line unlinked. “It would have fried half the systems if I’d been in direct contact with the door.” he intoned, before stepping forward and examining the door. “It’s safe now,” he stated, reading the reports before putting his muscles to work in pulling the gap open as Marcus reported to the Dayrin that someone had to be down here.
He heard Tirumin reply from the sciences station. <“Understood, Agent. Careful. We still can’t scan through the Rardonic interference so keep your boosters on in case we need to get you out of there quickly.”>

“Of course, Lieutenant,” Harrison cut in, reminding Marcus that the squad leader was kept in on all links between the squad and the ship. Normally he’d have to send the messages himself but, as Marcus wasn’t officially part of the U.S.C. forces, the rules weren’t quite as steadfast. But he was still listening, even as he opened the door wide enough to step into the airlock. Marcus joined him as he hit the button inside to close the door and repressurise. “Keep the suit on, agent.”

<“Understood, Chief,”> Marcus replied, the wifi system in his suit attempting to locate any connection in the station whilst anti virals and malware systems powered up to protect against nasty things in downloads. <“Scanning for interfaces I can access to find out the situation.”>

“Understood. I’ll just scan the normal way.” He checked the interior door and opened it slightly to make sure there were no threaded traps. Nothing. He engaged his personal shielding before opening it, saving him from the energy bolt that sparked against the barrier before he fired back, his inbuilt energy shotgun striking the wall close to the origin point. “U.S.C. and I.O.C,” he called through the suit speaker. “We’re coming in!”

“Like heck you are,” the voice called back, “I’ll destroy this station before I give in to you killers!”

“Which restricts our options,” Harrison muttered as Marcus linked in to the station systems and, with the protection systems running, began downloading the station records.

<“He’s trying to delete the records,”> Marcus advised as he noted the system fighting the program Midnight had put it. <“We’re not going to get everything.”>

“Bargaining power,” Harrison intoned, heading forward whilst the unseen assailant fired on them. The Equinna noted a fifteen percent drop in the shield power as he made his way towards what the blueprints indicated was the command centre.


Dalton and Keila listened in in the I.O.C. office as their associate went into danger without them, leaving them as helpless as a viewer of a vidshow, fearing for their hero and impotent to help in any way now. The Fleman crushed her stress ball as she heard them come under fire and Dalton put a hand atop hers. “Harrison will keep him safe,” he assured her, thinking of the wounds his partner had suffered over the last few months – and, indeed, the one’s he’d suffered – and wondered if she could grip his hand in response as he needed the reassurance more than she did.

Amy ambled in and glanced at the pair. “Harrison is an efficient officer,” she intoned emotionlessly. “He will not allow an end of line situation with Agent Seelevan.”

Dalton smiled slightly at the attempt at empathy. “Thanks, Amy. What’s up?”

“I have compiled the records on the Mican family this ship rescued as Investigator Gerry asked. It is mostly boring reading, even for a creature incapable of boredom, such as I.”

“You’re just as capable of it as any other sentient, Amy,” Keila put in.

“Thank you. But I was about to state that there is often a body found shortly after the Darlington family have left a colony. Usually a corporate worker of middle management and the day after they have left the area, according to the navigation logs. As, I understand, those like you die every day, it might be co-incidence but, from the novels I have been encouraged to read, co-incidence does not occur as that would be contrary to the narrative.”

Dalton smiled again and got up to put his hand on her arm reassuringly. “In real life,” he said, “co-incidences absolutely DO exist. The skill is in telling what is co-incidence and what isn’t. Telling Gerry of the facts, without implication, is absolutely the right move to make, eh?” He slapped the metal arm as he so often reassured Marcus. The impact stung slightly.

“Ow,” Amy said politely.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to be so..” He stopped and looked at Amy as she turned her face towards him and seemed to be redefining her ears. “Was that a…” Dalton grinned. “Did you just make a joke?”

“You seemed to need it,” Amy replied, heading off to find Gerry.

Dalton shook his head and thanked her as he went back to worrying about Marcus.


Harrison fired his weapon again, launching the target sideways as its cover exploded under impact, disturbing Marcus’ attempts to download some of the station inventory. It couldn’t be helped. The opponent was wearing an environmental suit of their own so they couldn’t tell much about them other than they were male and five years out of date. The outfit was mainly fabric with panels so wasn’t even anything the Militias would use. Pirate clans, perhaps. Or a lesser corporation. Or one hired by the other, he pondered as a grenade came in rather too close to his feet. He shoved Marcus behind him as the device went off, devastating his shielding down to around about five percent as systems flared and failed and rebooted and realigned as the consoles in front of him and the floor under him began to fail under his weight and he fell forward as Marcus lept to one side and landed safely, scrambling up to his feet to fire a blast at their opponent to keep their head down so the Celican could attack whilst Harrison was down. The agent could still feel his old injuries holding him back but impacted the figure in the chest as debris rained down from the explosion. He grappled with the figure as the atmosphere started to thin without him noticing and the figure began to rise against him, physical strength overpowering the agent as Harrison got back up in something of a daze. His energy weapon was useless but his physicality was still prime and he headed over to assist the agent in the struggle, pulling the opponent back as he strove to strike Marcus and slamming him against a bulkhead. The protective faceplate cracking across the face as he ordered the creature to stand down and be arrested. He couldn’t see into the glass interior and used his left hand to grip the attacker’s weapon hand as the cracks began to spiderweb. “We’re not going to kill you,” he snapped.

<“If we don’t get him out now,”> Marcus warned, <“we kinda are.”> He looked at Harrison as the Equinna kept fighting and not replying. <“The room is compromised,”> he warned. <“Atmosphere is escaping and… Your receiver is damaged, isn’t it? You can’t hear me...”>

[Amazee Dayzee]

That is not good that the receiver is broken and they can't communicate with each other to try to help out here. Better come up with a solution quick or all three of them might not get out alive.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Nine


Marcus put his hand on Harrison’s arm, trying to get his attention. The armour shifted it’s head towards him and he reckoned he had achieved his aim. <“What,”> he heard, making him jump slightly as he realised the microphone part hadn’t been damaged. Was the Equinna just giving in to rage? Perhaps.

“The atmosphere is escaping,” he said, before gesturing to Harrisons’ ears and the wall. He tried to mime a gap expanding. Then he got a clue as Harrison poked at Marcus’s speaker. The Celican engaged it, hoping it was just the receiver part of Harrisons’ system that was off-line. “The atmosphere is escaping,” he repeated. “And his suit’s breaking.”

Harrison nodded <“Find the breach and seal it,”> he ordered over the comm. <“There could be evidence here.”>

“For my part in this dialogue, get the prisoner back to the shuttle and secure them, Chief,” Marcus replied. Harrison grunted a nod, gripped the fugitive by the chest piece, hauled him up by one hand and pulled them, near effortlessly, down the passage as the helmet continued to fracture.


Marcus looked at the wall pack. A basic repair kit with polymer plugs some fifteen centimetres across. Enough for ten holes. His sensor suite pointed him in the direction of the first hole and he pushed the first plug into place, covering the tear in the outer hull before he looked for the next one.


“We still can’t get in contact with them,” Tirumin told Gerry and Dane, “The station’s still putting out some interference.”

“They’ve encountered resistance,” Dane guessed. “Otherwise they’d be using the station communications array.” He had Hausan focus the viewer in as the door opened and they saw the bulk of Harrison come out at speed and carry a figure over his shoulder towards the shuttle. “That’s not Marcus,” Dane told Gerry. “The suit’s wrong.”

“And it’s breaking,” the Quollan on the helm noted as the faceplate shattered, some fifteen feet from the shuttle.

Dane hit his comm as Harrison moved slowly, his holding arm pushing back and throwing the prisoner slowly towards the shuttle.. “Teleport bay, link in to the main viewer, Lock on to that flying thing and beam it aboard!”

<“Aye, sir,”> the teleport officer replied, making the thrown creature vanish in a momentary sea of sparkles as Gerry called Darcy to the teleport bay and left to take charge of the situation herself.


The teleport bay was only about twenty feet from the bridge so she got there first and readied her weapon in case of any need to use it but she didn’t think there was so much need as the figure’s face was half frozen from the short amount of exposure to the vacuum, trapped in a glacial gaze, unable to blink as the Human moved towards it, grasping an insulated glove from her belt so shecould put her hand in under the frozen chin and unclip the helmet to deactivate the controls and remove the top half of the helmet. It fell free, showing a Feline of slightly younger years than Dane. The ears had spots of frozen blood in them, the results of pressure explosion, perhaps? “There is a pulse,” Amy said from behind her.

“Good to know,” Gerry replied. “Is this face in our records?”

“I was coming to talk to you of the Darlington family but that is not of importance now.”

“Good. Tell me later.” She stepped aside as Chizlehurst ambled in and Amy regarded the face and linked in to Midnight’s IOC database to scan.

“Few minutes more exposure and this fellow would be out of commission permanently,” Chizelhurst told her. “Good thing you’re here, android,” she told Amy. “He’s frozen and freezing. We need to warm him in an isolation tank and I have no-one can safely carry him with the temperature his suit is at. You’re up. Carry him and follow me. Please,” she added, remembering people were treating Amy as though she were a full member of the team. She couldn’t quite accept it but it paid to play sweet at times. She slapped a heated breather over the figures nose and mouth to warm the breathing passages before Amy, getting a nod from Gerry, stepped over, bent down and noted her arm surface temperature drop rapidly as she brought the suited form up and carried him after the doctor.


Marcus attached the last of the seals from the pack and wondered how long they’d hold. A few were just clinging on and he didn’t fancy putting any air pressure in here until Hannay had given the hull the once over and he was sure there was still one hole, although he couldn’t find it. He turned his attention to the computers and worked on getting them operational again, which wasn’t going to be easy, considering the damage. But he was taking in files and he took the time to use the helmet camera to picture the spartan surroundings of someone who hadn’t tried to send a distress call. It worried him, that. It indicated that he hadn’t needed to call for a rescue. He was anticipating someone coming to pick him up after a few days stranded here. There were signs of supplies here. Ration packs and fluid bags for intake and output lay across the floor. Enough to live on for a short time. But it wasn’t the people who’d attacked that had been the ones supposed to rescue him. He’d thought they were them and had been rather vocal that they were ‘murdering scum’. That kind of set you against rescuing a person. But he figured he had what they needed. He could find the surveillance record of the attack and it wasn’t undamaged but the smarter people on the Dayrin (Midnight, Dalton, Amy, Switt and, possibly, Marble) could work things through from here. He began disconnecting . He looked back at the hull as one of the seals tore free and exited into space. It didn’t worry him half as much as the pressure building on the power core was beginning to. He kept downloading as he headed for the airlock, encountering Harrison on the way back. “Wrong way, Chief,” he said through the speaker, “station’s power core is building to an explosion. If the radiation’s linked to the metal in this asteroid, it’ll all blow. Where’s the prisoner?”

Harrison relayed what he’d done to save the prisoner as they both clumped back the way they’d come.


“I’m reading a power surge from the station, sir,” Tirumin advised. “It’s enough to break through the interference and it’s building. It could be building to an explosion.”

“What would that do,”

Tirumin put his hands on the console. “Obliterate the base, rupture the asteroid into a hundred mini meteors and tear this ship to pieces if we don’t put the shields up.”

“And, if we do,” Hausan remarked, choosing to state the obvious, “we lose Seelevan and Harrison.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Loving the way that this story is playing out here and can't wait to see what you have coming next! This is going to be interesting like the other stories that you have posted so far!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Ten


Breathing like a fish. Turva was more alarmed by the fact he wasn’t more shocked about it than he was by the fact he could do it now. The treatment they must have given him whilst he slept must, he considered, have something in it that makes you accept the alterations beyond what the godlings intended. He gave consideration to if he’d ever be accepted by his parents again. Or by society in general. He’d not seen himself due to there being noting reflective in here – or much light, for that matter. He’d seen the rough outline in the water’s surface before each bathing but that wasn’t enough. He felt hungry and had to have lost several nars in weight. The darkness wasn’t affecting him so badly now. Perhaps his eyes had been altered too? They’d certainly burned that first… day? How long had he been there? He’d counted five sleeps that he knew of but that meant nothing. He could have napped. There could have been sleeps he knew nothing about. The cover pulled back, allowing the light from above to come in and faintly illuminate the… There were things in the room. Boxes and smooth metal crates. He turned as the cover pushed back over the bath and the lights died. Great. How was he going to avoid tri… He could still see them, he realised. They were a little less dark than the walls somehow and, even though they weren’t clear he could… ow. He’d not seen that small one. But he could find the others and they moved more easily than the weighty one he’d tripped over and he managed to push them into some form of seat. He sighed, sat in the chair and wrapped his tail around himself. Slowly, he began singing to himself. A song from Szarra and Kijvan about loss and desire. It made him think of Jalda, his mate who’d gone missing with her mother some time before his removal. He was conflicted by the thought he might see her again soon. If he did, she was here. She’d been put through something like he’d been put through. Had she survived? Had her mother survived? Had things gone for her as they had for him or had she lost her mind to fear as he’d thought he might in the first days..? Hours? Weeks? “If I thought of a thousand yous,” he sang with slight discordance, “they’d never match the one I lost…”


Harrison made it to the pilots seat of the Dayrin shuttle first and was powering up the engine as Marcus sealed the door and sat himself down. He reached forward to repressurise the ship. “Don’t bother,” Harrison told him sharply. “Don’t take your armour off.” They strapped in and lifted off the surface as the power register kept ramping up. He reckoned they probably had about five minutes. Three minutes to reach the main ship, one to spiral to velocity speed… It was going to be close. The ship lifted off from the surface. He checked through the interference to ensure the Dayrin was where they’d left it in holding orbit. It wasn’t on the sensors but he could see it visually when zoomed in. It was turning away from them. He couldn’t hear him but he imagined Marcus was mentioning something about the ship leaving them so he spoke again as he engaged best velocity. “They’re giving us a straight shot into the shuttle bay,” he explained. “It’s a good thing.”


Gerry looked at the ginger furred feline in the tank and found she was thankful that Darcy had thought to put a set of underwear on him as the breather mask covered much of his face and he hung there in the nutrient bath. “How long until I can question him,” she asked.

“Evangeline,” Darcy Chizlehurst replied, “I have only just put him in the bath to warm him safely! He was exposed to near 200 degrees below zero for almost a minute. In short, flash frozen, pretty much. It’ll take a while before I can safely wake him up. I have to scan to see if any brain functions have been damaged yet. Is he on record?”

“Amy’s still going through the files of known criminals.”

“Still? It’s been five minutes.” Darcy stepped over to her desk, taking the agent with her. “And you say ‘still’? She’s searching the databases of the IOC and the local law in the sector, yes?”

“Yes,” Gerry said with resignation. She knew where this was going. It would take hours, days even, to get the information. The android junior agent was a godsend but it proved she might be getting too used to her as a tool. “I have the meaning, Darcy. I’ll try to be patient.”

“Not HER patient, I hope,” Hannay Schole stated, entering the room. “You wanted adjustments made to the tank?”

“Before I put someone in it would have been better, Hannay,” Darcy complained. “Now you can’t do everything I wanted you to do.”

“Why not,” Gerry asked.

“It’d fry the occupant,” Hannay advised. “Bit problematic, running a charge through it to find imperfections in the walls with enough power to damage the imperfect when there’s someone just floating. Still, it should be able to handle the temperatures you’re using. I’ll just run checks on the control panel.” He stopped as the alert siren sounded. “Green alert,” he stated, grabbing a hand hold.

“Green alert,” Gerry asked.

“Sudden acceleration alert,” the engineer advised. “The inertia systems are about to be pushed so hold on.”

Darcy watched the tank as she felt the pressure build.


Keila held Midnight as the ship accelerated away from the asteroid and Dalton fell against Amy, who kept him safe as she remained, unmoving, in the walkway. The effect only lasted a few seconds before things stabilised andhe found he could breathe again. She looked down at him. “You are safe, Dalton?”

“Thanks, Amy,” he replied, peeling himself off his metal compatriot.

“If you had been injured, I would have had to replace you in the field,” she replied, dead pan. “It is to the good of both of us you are unharmed.”

“She likes you really, Dalton,” Midnight told him as Keila let her go. “I better check on what’s happening.” She pulled herself back to her chair as she felt the ship slow with considerably more smoothness than it had launched to velocity with. “Oh, I need to put this on the main screen,” she said, putting up the asteroid so they could all see it as it blasted itself into tiny chunks. “Don’t see an asteroid bomb every day,”

“You don’t,” Gerry said, stepping in. “Locals will give us heck for that. Amy,” she said, “you had something to tell me about the people we rescued?”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Amy probably forgot about what she had to say about the people being rescued because she was so excited about watching an asteroid get blown to smithereens and I honestly don't blame her. LOL I'm sure the locals aren't going to be too angry about what happened though so that is something they don't have to worry about too much.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Eleven


“I get why you’re heading back to the colony with our little swimmer,” Dane said, sat behind his desk as Gerry imposed on the other side without trying, “but why are you leaving agent Furbright here?” He played with the cup he usually kept in his sideboard before putting it down on the table. “Wouldn’t Amy be better?”

Gerry decided to temper her words. It was likely, of course, that he was correct but she had her reasons for not wanting him along on this and, frankly, it was her job to assign agents, not Danes. She wouldn’t argue with his bridge appointments would she? “She’s good but has a digital impression of what I’d do, not a biological one. She’s a junior agent in training and doesn’t have the instinct Dalton has. I need instincts standing in for me as the rest of us go after what might well be a hit family on the hunt!” She breathed out. “Still can’t quite believe that.”

Dane brought up the pictures of the Mican/Canine family they were talking about. The Mican male, Marcis Darlington, was listed as an entrepreneur from Calderon, with something of a fortune in the futures market and something of a smaller fortune in the technology sector. His wifemate, Tareeka, was a scientific researcher between roles for the last five years and their son, the whitefurred Collian called Max, had no real record of note as, well, he was a child. “These don’t exactly look like hitpeople,” he told Gerry.

“Never believe first impressions without proving them,” Gerry warned. “They can lead to being stabbed in the back. That’s another reason Amy’s coming with us. She can’t be stabbed and I need to have her tested in the field. So she’s with Marcus.”

“Not with you?”

“I’m not giving up my pick up truck. Keila can’t fit in the saloon.”

Dane snorted. “That I can imagine. Sometimes I wonder how she fits in the shuttle!”


Gerry headed down to the mobile command shuttle, where Harrison and Keila were carrying the suspension capsule containing their captive from the satellite. The chief and the agent carried the capsule aboard, with the feline still suspended in the warming solution and with a full facemask on that occasionally spritzed a little warm water across his face to help with rehydration. Gerry watched his eyes. She was thinking they were beginning to shift, just slightly. He’d only been exposed a couple of moments at most. It sometimes scared her, recalling she was living in a tin box, albeit made out of much different metal really. But it could still be exposed to the void. It could still freeze her face, her eyes. It could still cause damage to her internal structures if she didn’t react correctly. This one had some lung damage, according to Chizelhurst, as he might have been trying to hold his breath. Or he might have thought death preferable to capture. Either way… She pressed the speaker. “If you can hear me, she said, her voice carrying to the feline earpiece of the mask, “you’re safe. You’ve been exposed to space so you’re in a rescue capsule.” She looked through the perspex eye masks. No response yet.


“You’re going to turn heads,” Marcus stated, walking with Amy to the shuttle bay.

She turned her digital eyes towards him and tried to put an effort into lightening her tone as she’d seen the others do when they wanted to be not entirely serious. “You think I should wear clothing?”

“You DO have a shining beauty, Amy.”

“I shall take it under consideration, Marcus,” she allowed. “And, considering you are a Celican, thank you for the compliment. I may well look to spending funds on clothes on the colony.” She inclined her head slightly. “The ship only has coveralls and I do not look good in those.”

“We might not have time to shop,” Marcus told her as they entered the shuttle. He looked up at the frozen feline and swallowed. He’d had some responsibility for that. Sure, he’d killed people before but it was always quick. He prided himself on them suffering as little as possible. This guy was suffering.

“You definitely won’t have much time for shopping, Marcus,” Gerry told him. “You’re headed straight for the local police station to help with the arrangements. Start with their ship. They either sold it or it’s being repaired. Either way, that leaves a credit trail.”

“Do I get a firearm,” Amy asked.

“Your humour is still improving,” Gerry answered, tossing her a personal forcefield generator. “Access code is on the underside of the device.”
Amy looked at the underside for a couple of seconds before speaking again. “Access code stored,” she stated, before attaching it magnetically to her chest. “Agent Furbright is staying aboard?”

“Whilst Dane chases down the ship that killed the ship we’re after, yes. That’s why the shuttle’s being used. I’m qualified on piloting it so I’m driving. You watch over the swimmer, Amy”

“Oh, fun,” Keila remarked, strapping into her seat in the tiny sub office as Amy chose a good place to stand and lock herself to the floor.


Midnight looked up from the co-pilots chair as Gerry entered and placed her slightly excessive bulk in the pilots’ seat and began the pre-flight checks. “I’ve only done this on simulators,” Midnight protested.

“Makes you more qualified than anyone back there,” Gerry told the Lappinean. “You’re the emergency, Midnight.”

“Surely Amy could…”

“Not on a mission.” She gave the tech a smile that she hoped was reassuring but probably wasn’t. She connected to the main ship. “I.O.C. shuttle to Dayrin,” she stated, “ready to depart at your convenience.”


Up on the command deck, Dane chose to answer the call as Dalton stood close by, looking out at the scene of destruction now the ship had returned to to continue the chase now they had the directions and the velocity trace to follow. “Acknowledged, Hawkrin,” he told the supershuttle. “Good luck.” He nodded and Switt engaged the launch procedure, sounding the alert in the bay ten seconds before the launch doors opened. They watched the shuttle head off. “Hausan,” Dane told the Quollan, “get us underway. Hewelstone, keep that link intact. They could need assistance at any time.”

“Sir,” Hewelstone replied as Hausan got them back on the trail.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I think that Midnight might be just a bit worried about being the emergency that they use if they have to. I can sense a lot of trepidation with her wondering if Amy could do whatever needed to be done.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Twelve


“I should drive,” Amy insisted as they stepped out onto the summer hot colony world, crunching sand under foot and Marcus put a hand over his eyes to scan the horizon. He stepped back to the shuttle and plucked a cap from Keila’s hand, placing it on his head so the visor protected his eyes from the midday sun. Slightly, anyway. He stepped back to his temporary partner and asked her why? He wasn’t looking to argue as Dalton preferred driving and he preferred not raising a fuss. “I am conversant with all local traffic laws,” Amy stated.

“You also want to try driving, don’t you?”

“Is it that obvious,” she asked. “It does seem intelligent to try in a locale with low traffic volume.”

He tossed her the digital key. “You can drive to the Police station,” he stated. “I’ll need to drive later as I know my own instincts.”

“It will be interesting to examine those instincts in action,” Amy replied, getting behind the steering wheel and almost crushing the seat.


“I’ll have Hannay replace that later,” Gerry told Keila as she watched the others head out. “We’re headed to the hospital,” she added. “Leastways, I’m going to the hospital. You’re following us,” she remarked as the medics moved the capsule from the shuttle and loaded it up in the ambulance. Despite the paramedic Mican’s protests, Gerry insisted that he was a federal prisoner, meaning she had to travel with him. They grumbled but federal firepower ruled and they closed the doors and set off with Keila following as they headed to the hospital where the Darlingtons had been taken to deal with the fathers partial asphyxiation.


The traffic was light on the road, such as it was under the drifting sand that pulsed in the light wind and, occasionally swirled where the wind hadn’t made up its’ mind on which way to blow so was going in circles. Keila kept her eyes on the ambulance as she went, giving scant glances to the passing buildings with their weather blown attributes and sand resistant glass and extraction systems. She ignored the bubble pavilion park someone had set up to remind the occupants of what grass and greenery looked like in the dustbowl landscape of the part terraformed world. Micans were fully dressed, despite the heat that still existed when the sand dropped. She checked the radio and found a hard rock station Gerry would hate to listen to on the twenty minute trip. “Bit loud, isn’t it,” Midnight asked from the back seat.

Keila almost jumped in the drivers’ seat, making the car swerve wildly before she corrected. “I’d forgotten you were back there,” she called loudly.

“So I gathered,” the tech officer said, her fingerclaws deep into the upholstery, despite being strapped in. “My calling as a ninja betrays me.”

“Are tecninja’s a thing,” Keila asked, getting back on the ambulance’s tail.


Turva was excited. He had a feeling that something was going to happen today. The pain from the gills in his neck had faded and his eyes were able to make out things like he’d never been able to before. He could feel his body had changed and his hearing improved to the extent he could hear those outside saying that they’d near arrived and the current captives were to join the others as soon as they arrived. He heard one say that he’d be glad to get rid of the one in 14 as he wouldn’t stop crying for his Dathan. Turve had to assume it was something like a mother or father. Of course it could be a stuffed creature for all he knew. But it sounded like he was going to see others and that cheered him no end. Isolation was OK in small amounts. He’d grown up on an isolated island so he was often on his own but there had always been SOMEONE nearby. Someone to talk to. Someone to play with. He stood up from his chair and headed over to the door as he heard the friendlier one call his name. “What,” he asked.

“Are you OK?”

Resentment rose in him. He swallowed it down. There was no sense annoying this person. This… alien captor. “I want to be out of here.”

“That’ll happen soon,” the creature said. “How are you taking to the new abilities?”

Turva growled. “You had no right to…”

“No, they didn’t. But these people don’t believe in right, they believe in profit. Which they’re going to use you to get.”

“How?”

“You’re cheaper than getting the machinery.”

Turva heard him talking to someone else and denying that he’d been doing anything. He hustled away from the wall so it could look like he’d not been there. Not talking to anyone. He didn’t want to get his invisible friend into trouble. He was the only friend he seemed to have. He snorted a laugh. He wasn’t a friend, he was just a friendlier enemy. Turva sat in his makeshift chair as things started to get quieter. Quieter even than they had been. He didn’t know what it was at first but started to think it meant the engines had stopped. They might have arrived.


Dane looked out on empty space and wondered if they were making time on the vehicle they were chasing. Sometimes it didn’t seem so. But they had to stop soon, didn’t they? The trail led on, past planets, rather than stopping at them. Keeping outside the lesser races scanning range. Lesser races, he told himself, simply because they weren’t as technologically advanced as the Council. Nothing else. He felt it as Hausan entered a course change. “Why the diversion,” he asked.

“Surveillance buoy ahead,” the Quollan replied, bringing up the image of a relay device on the screen.

“That looks too advanced for the Kosellans,” Letitia commented, referring to the local planets occupants.

“It is,” Dane replied. “It’s been left here to see if anyone’s following the ship.”

“So what do we do,” Dalton asked carefully, from where he was sat at the back of the bridge.

“We jam it and continue on past,” Dane announced. “Hewelstone?”

“I’ll have to find it’s frequency, sir,” the Shrewvian told him.

“Quickly, please.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

The only thing that I can say is that this story keeps on getting more interesting which each chapter that you post. Really though I expect nothing less from you in all of your works!

[Harry Johnathan]

Story is very interesting so far. I feel rather bad for Turva.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Usually the characters you feel bad for end up getting something to make up for the fact that they were put through heck and made it out of there. At least that is how I have seen it work in Welshy's stories.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Nice to see you, H!

And the gel is back too...

Thirteen


Turva felt as though he’d been drugged. Perhaps he had. There was a pounding in his head, a tingling in his extremities that fought him opening his eyes to the dazzling fire of white that panicked him with being ascending to the white hot layer of the fallen, condemned to look down at those going on without them in all their hope, unable to hold them in their despair and unable to hold them in their celebrations. Something to be feared compared to the paradise of subtlety, unable to see back and able to do anything at leisure whilst waiting for your loved ones. His ears were full of noise, he reasoned. He could even make out some things that he didn’t know. Words he didn’t understand and he couldn’t concentrate. Everything hurt but he managed to swing his tail around and felt it slap his leg. It was a dry ‘whump’ that sounded and brought him a little more back to reality. He had to get up. He couldn’t quite manage it. He blinked and felt his eyelids moved. More than two sets? He’d not noted that before. It wasn’t the same as the waterproof layer, he could feel it. It seemed to help with the light, dimming it somewhat to less than burning white. It was tinged with oranges now, just enough for him to maybe move around. Turva put a hand down and found the floor exactly where his legs had found it. He turned over onto his chest and put his hands flat against it so he could bring his legs up under him to stand. He strained. He could hear more words from the people around his consciousness now. He wondered what the ‘hybrid gel’ was and why they said it had been effective. He forced himself up to his knees and, shakily, took his hands off the floor after pushing himself up. He put his hands out to try and keep himself stable as his legs almost buckled at the knees and he hoped he wouldn’t hit his head on the ceiling. If there was one there. He blinked again and that cleared his vision a little, making the bare bones of things visible. He was in a room. Not a metal box room like on the ship but one made out of craggy, rocky, brick and other normal materials.


There was a reflecting surface on the wall and what looked back at him, when he was close enough to make things out, didn’t look entirely like him. His face was slightly more elongated. He put his hands to the surface and watched his slightly too large eyes as he blinked again, with one eye, seeing the effect of the new eyelid for the first time. His gape told him the reflection was him, despite the sharper teeth he possessed. He put a finger claw to his neck, where the breathing slits were the most visible sign of the transformations he’d been subjected to. His heart raced and he thought he’d have an attack of nerves but it never came. They’d done this to him over days, hadn’t they? Possibly whenever he’d been asleep. And it hadn’t killed him, had it?


He cried.


“Welcome BACK to Mirtanna,” Deputy chief Wallasey said, facing Marcus and Amy over his table, where a fan was blowing and the air conditioning was turned on. “I understand you’re here to cover up a mistake you’ve made?”

“We had no reason to check, other than administration,” Marcus replied, noting the invading dust flying off the Micans’ desk, the dark ‘guards’ casting a spiked illusion on the officers’ fur, standing out against the mostly chestnut face. “And the administration…”

“Run by myself,” Amy chipped in.

“...Done by the best administrator I know,” Marcus stated, gaining a nod of thank you from Amy, “showed correlation between violent deaths and the Darlington family putting in an appearance. So we came back to look into them.”

“And any recent sales of their damaged shuttle, which is why we are here,” Amy concluded.

“Yeah,” Wallasey said, leaning back in his chair, “Lots around here want to visit other worlds when the cloud season rolls by. Most don’t have the funds to do so but there are some sellers around if you want to buy used shuttles.”

“Cloud season,” Marcus asked, sitting forward.

“Wind brings the dust clouds, every year,” Wallasey confirmed. “Same period of time. It’s followed by frost season, where everything drops to near zero overnight and hits near boiling during the day. No wind to blow the dust cover, you see? Then there’s the wet season. Lasts about a standard month and we get all the water we need for the year.” He saw Marcus pointing to the mini fridge that had several bottles of water in it. “I said all we need. Want is another thing. But back to the matter at hand. This family. The… Darlington’s? According to the records, they checked out of the hospital yesterday. We checked. Against medical orders, I might add. No sign of them since.”

“Who could move them around here?”

“There are a few people we know that might try to smuggle them out but, if their ship’s being repaired, why contact them?

“Is anything happening here shortly? Conferences, meetings, anything like that,” Marcus enquired.

“Quite often. Cheap rents and grants encouraged big companies to invest in the hotels here. They’re often having conferences.”

“And you have answered your own question,” Amy volunteered, noting the officers in the main room pretending not to look at her through the glass wall. “Should I ask them for a charitable donation for photographs,”

The deputy chief looked at the others watching her and stood up. “Excuse me.” He walked to the door and opened it before shouting in a way that made Marcus jump, having never heard that volume from a Mican before. “HAVEN’T ANY OF YOU EVER SEEN AN ANDROID AGENT BEFORE??? Get on with your work!” He swung the door shut.


“So they left,” Gerry asked the Administrator at the hospital as Keila ordered herself a Chocolate milk from the vending machine. “Did they give you any details of where they’d be staying?”

“The Motalodge on Corbant Street.”

“Probably fake,” Keila mused, sipping her milk through a metal straw she’d brought with her.

“But we’ll check it anyhow,” Midnight put in, tapping away on her computer to see if she could access the hotel site to check reservations.


The Dayrin made her way past the surveillance buoy, sending out a signal from Hewelstone’s console. The ship released a powered probe set to engage engines in ten minutes, once the ship had passed from range to activate it and transmit a signal to find out who the signal was being sent to. Perhaps.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I love how it isn't certain that they will find out who the signal is being sent to and that if they don't get an answer that they need to switch to their plan B. Honestly that made me chuckle more than it was supposed to. LOL

[Welsh Halfwit]

Fourteen


Gerry readied herself for entry and had her firearm prepared as the cleaning rodent at the Motalodge announced she was coming in and opened the door. The agent shooed the cleaner back and made an entry, stepping into an empty room where the fan hadn’t been turned on so the room was too warm. An unmade bed indicated someone had been in here since the last time the cleaner had been in and Keila kept watch over the forecourt as the senior checked all the rooms. Well, both of them. The family had logged in here, as claimed by the hospital, but they’d clearly headed out early today. Gerry ran some fur from the bed through the analysis scanner she had and it came back to the father. The files on the wife and son hadn’t been stored as medical regulations hadn’t allowed it but the father had been treated on the Dayrin.


They’d asked the owner for the details of the rental vehicle the family had brought in and he’d stated they hadn’t brought one but one had turned up late last night, which was why midnight was doing her best to access comm records from the local tower for several hours yesterday. She had the advantage of having the local rental comms numbers so she was, primarily, looking for calls to them. Of course it didn’t mean they HAD called a rental company. Or that they’d called from here. But she was bored and looking to do something as she sat in the office. She glanced at the monitors on the street outside and offered something close to a curse as a canine and a crossbreed turned the corner. She tapped her comm. “Midnight to Gerry. Mother and son inbound. Walking. With candy floss.”


Gerry glanced to Keila as Midnight heard her acknowledgement and wondered where the giant could… Too late. They’d seen her. She could see the mother from the window. A look of confusion as she regarded the giant Lappinean by the side of their door. Gerry had to direct Sweetstalk’s attention to the entryway and who was in it and the Rugby loving powerhouse vaulted the bannister as the pair ran, throwing the sweet treat to the floor as they ran. Keila landed as Gerry started for the stairs to the ground level of the two story building. The Lappineans powerful muscles ate up what lead the pair might have had but they knew the layout better and the pair had vanished by the time she had gotten to where they’d been. <“Midnight to Keila! Take the left alleyway. I’m following them on local cameras. They look like they’re headed for Crawbury road.”>

“It would help,” Keila puffed, powering down the alley, jumping several boxes, crates and local wildlife as she went, “if I knew where those places were, ‘Night!” She slammed against a wall as the alley twisted to the right.

<“All true. Second on the right, now. They’ve headed into the shopping centre.”>

“You… getting into the shopping centre’s systems?”

<“Nope,”> the tech replied. <“Sealed private system. By the time I got the warrant they’d have been gone an hour.”>

Gerry commed in that she’d take the parking lot and Keila realised she’d missed seeing the boss actually driving.


“Should we not proceed to assist Keila and Gerry,” Amy asked as the pair approached the second used shuttle broker on the list the deputy chief had given them. The dust was picking up but a low level power field was keeping the swirling brown dots from attacking the launch field. People working the office turned and stared at them and Marcus had the feeling that he definitely wasn’t the centre of attention here, just like he hadn’t been earlier.

“By the time we got there it’d be too late,” he told her. “Although we do have to see if we can stop there at some point. To get you a long coat at least.”

“It will keep the dust off,” she agreed. “I will need a cleaning tonight.”

“Huh,” Marcus replied, entering the office, “don’t use that cleaner you used last time. Made everyone’s eyes water.” He finished by looking up at the Mican behind the desk. “Agent Marcus Seelevan. Trainee Agent Amy. IOC. We need to examine your recent sales records.”

“F..for what,” the Mican asked, looking from the teeth of the predatory agent to the ident cards to the Feline Android. An android could be an agent now? Were they getting rights? What was the question?

“Recent sales,” Amy stated. “Specifically any in the last day or so. And,” she added smoothly, “if you have seen these individuals?” She passed across a pad with the pictures of the family on it.

The Mican looked, then passed the picture back. “Nope,” he said, “not seen ‘em.”

“You hardly looked at it,” Marcus responded. “Are you sure?”

“The female’s Canine, isn’t she?” He looked up. “We don’t get many of those around here.”

Amy cocked her head. “Then why did your pulse jump when you looked at the picture?”

The Mican looked at her in alarm as he jabbered a denial that he’d honestly never seen the people in the picture before and there was no chance they could prove anything and, should he need to, he had a lawyer that could take things from here if they continued on this path.
“He’s right of course,” Marcus agreed, “officially we can’t use your lie detector abilities to put mr…”

“Windermere,” the Mican replied, “and n…”

“...Windermere, on trial,” Marcus breezed, as though Windermere hadn’t been talking more. “But we can use it to focus our attention on them and rip the company apart to find out why he lied to us, straight from the off. It’s one of those things with us canines. When someone throws us a bone, we don’t let it go.”

He heard the slight noise as Amy twisted to look at him where he’d sat in the customer chair. “I thought you considered yourself more Feline?”

“Only when picking up the ladies. Can we focus?”

“On several thousand things at a time. But understood.” She turned back to the owner. “So, do we do what we have to do or shall you tell us what we want to know?”


“I don’t much like this, Letitia,” Dane stated, looking at the prospected destinations at the moment. They were headed closer to the edge of Council space, where corporations held more sway. And three of the prospectives the Agents had identified were out here, right on the edge.

[Amazee Dayzee]

If they need someone from the Council to help them out when they are over at the edge they should try to find Elena tosee if she can use her pull here. Not sure how much power (or what she does) she has but it is worth a shot and I'm shoehorning my OC in the fic.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Fifteen


The locals had chipped in, supplying three officers to assist Keila and Gerry in their search of the shopping centre but they’d turned up nothing. It was like the two had simply disappeared, as Keila complained to Gerry, next to the homeware shop that took up a good twenty percent of the top floor and offered twenty percent off on dust protection systems and cookware in it’s ‘mad droday’ sale.

“They could have used the telepads,” one of the officers said, raising a hand as though in school and asking for the toilet.

“The what,” Gerry asked. The officer led them down the escalator, past several store owners and their customers, who were getting a little crochety over not being allowed to leave for the last twenty minutes – although the cafes were doing better business than usual for this time on a Droday – up the stairs and around in what looked like a passage mainly meant for workers to access a cleaning room that… wasn’t a cleaning room. Teleport pads and an automated system made up the majority of the room and Gerry demanded to know why this was hidden here. “The optics,” the officer shrugged. “Status is partly your vehicle here but who wants to drive everywhere? Plus the car park’s not up to it. So we have this,” he added as Gerry tried to access the system. She put her comm device on it and turned it on. “Midnight, how do I tie the comm to a teleport station wall panel so you can access it?”

The response made no sense to her. Then she realised the sealed off system was affecting the comms that routed through the centre’s system and blocked translation.

Gerry looked. There was a name on it. It looked like gibberish. “The translation system isn’t working over comms,” she complained. “The symbols are Raitchian.” She accessed a padd and pictured the ‘letters’ and ‘numbers’ to mail them over. “Keila, call Midnight and ask her how I tie the comm in to this system. You’ll have to repeat everything she says.” Gerry hung up the link.


There was someone in with him, Turva reasoned. The smell told him that, almost as much as the weight that trembled by his side told him. This before waking. He opened his eyes and blinked his triple eyelids until his vision cleared enough to make out something strange against him. He’d never seen the like before and that was before they’d done to him… her… it… what they’d done to him. The face was sharper than a Salvettian, with sharper teeth. The fur was dark mud in colour with a wider nose and a kinder brow, accentuated by serrated tip ears. His body was slender with a ridge heading down his back and onto a fluffed tail that tapered down to a tailfin. Turva brought the childs… well, he assumed it was a child… hand up and the boy proved he was awake by spreading his fingers so Turva could see the webbing between the fingers. He hadn’t looked at the neck but he assumed there were slits there. “Who are you,” he asked softly, feeling the need to hug this alien as though he were desperate for a connection. As, indeed, he was.

The boy snuffled but he gave no impression of being shocked by being spoken to in another language. Or, indeed, his own. “Delap,” he said. “Delap Rottay.”

Turva cocked his head at him. “What… are… were you? You’re not Salvettian?”

The boy – Turva had decided it was a boy – wiped his nose with a hand, staining a silver trail onto his hand. He looked surprised by the question. “I’m Canid,” he said, wondering who wouldn’t know that. “Of the Aquafam breed, mom says.” He sniffed again and embraced Turva as he sobbed. “Saw ‘em,” he snuffled unclearly into Turva’s chest. He pulled back. “Saw ‘em take one so they took me too.”
Turva had his suspicions about why the boy had been taken but he had to check something. “You are a boy, correct?”

Delap grinned at the unexpected question, showing shining teeth. “Of course!”

Turva had to smile at that too. “Well, I’ve never met an alien before!”

Delap put a webbed hand to his chest. “I’m not an alien, YOU’RE the alien!” He put the hand down. “Though I’m pretty alien now,” he sighed. “Heard ‘em talking. I weren’t supposed to be taken so, after they’d done… this to me, they found they had no room. So they figured I could go with you.”

“Glad they did,” Turva said honestly, shifting the boy around so he could sit on the bed they’d been sleeping on and Delap was next to him. “Now,” he asked hesitantly, “something I heard them talk about like they feared it… What is the…” He tried hard to recall what the voice had said. “Eye oh sea?”


Nate Hausan watched his system with concern. He was certain there was an anomaly here, on his screen. It was showing space as it was laid out for him over the next dozen light years or so and scrolled forward as they went and it all made sense. It was all exactly as the maps he’d run earlier, when he’d been analysing ways towards the suspect planets the IOC had identified. All except for that small… “Sir,” he started, “there’s something up ahead on the screen?”

“What of it,” Dane asked.

“It’s not on the ones I ran this morning.”

Dane didn’t even think on it for a second before ordering Switt to put it up on the screen. The image of the map appeared on it, Hausan pointed at the anomaly.

“What’s it made of, Letitia,” he asked his first Officer, who was beginning to regret having sat at the science station. She could do the job, sure, but she’d much prefer someone else do it and she felt like she was making mistakes as she pushed the buttons and tapped the screen icons and came up with… readings. “It’s containing Tritanium, Palladium, Ferrous metals… It’s made of metal, sir. Entirely of metal.”


Dalton had moved back down into the IOC command room in the ship as it was there he had access to IOC systems and he knew that, if anything were to come in, success or failure could depend on the speed of his response and he was still important to everything and… ok, he was bored. He had nothing to do right now and, frankly, space was boring when it wasn’t life or death. Plus the collation of missing persons amongst the outer colonies had just come in and he was going through it. They even had planets outside the remit of the Council due to scanning systems that were prohibited on Council worlds but they weren’t spying on Council worlds, were they? They were establishing facts and tricks for a successful first official contact. Dalton wasn’t worried so much about that. He was worried about the fact that, extrapolating the things they knew and collating them, there were now well over a hundred potential victims. And that was only from what they knew.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I think that if Dalton includes what they DON'T know he will realize there are probably THOUSANDS of victims in that case which might be nightmare-inducing. I hope he doesn't spend too long thinking about it because it will destroy him.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Sixteen

Amy pushed the passenger seat back quite some distance and Marcus knew he’d have to adjust that when Dalton returned to his side. He’d extended Amy the courtesy of letting her drive whilst they were checking shuttle sales and purchase companies but Gerry had just commed in that the wife and child of the family had teleported to a hotel complex some five kilometres from their location and it was time to bend the local driving regulations, which he doubted Amy was wont to do, considering she’d obeyed every traffic rule so far. He got in and pushed the chair forward to a comfortable position and strapped in before Amy sat and tilted the balance. He’d adjust for that, he decided, as she strapped in and he accelerated out of the parking lot, screeching around to the left as he followed his navigation system. “I’m not sure you need to strap in, Amy,” he counselled.

“Despite the fact that it is very unlikely we would be hit by an impact capable of launching me out of the window,” she told him, selecting a ‘middle of the road’ station on the carcomm system, “it is the law that restraints are worn.” She sat back as Kirdell Swinner’s ‘Ode to the grace’ filled the car. Marcus didn’t mind. It was a half decent tune and they were going to be at their destination before the end of the song. He pushed around to the left , running over the top of a mini roundabout and taking the second exit. “Was that not a roundabout, not an overabout?”

“Been talking to my examiner,” Marcus replied.

“Merely watching galnet vids on the subject of driving. Right here,” she said, speaking a second before the navigation system.

He chuckled and followed instructions. “You are far superior to the in car nav,” he admitted.

“I am superior to the car,” she shot back.

“Wouldn’t go that far,” Marcus cheeked, a tight smile on his lips as they arrived at the hotel steps. He was out and halfway up the steps before Amy was out of the car and he got to the desk and danged the bell.


The slightly portly Mican shuffled forward and looked him up and down. He seemed unimpressed by being confronted by a predator in a jacket that was covered in the local dust, along with the rest of him. “We don’t get many predators here,” he sniffed, before asking if he wanted a room.

“Couldn’t afford it,” Marcus replied, showing his identity. “IOC Agent Seelevan,” he introduced. “That’s Agent Amy” he added as the door opened. He pulled the padd from his pocket with the picture of the mother and child on it. “These two just teleported in,” he explained. “Are they staying here?”

The Mican examined the picture. He sighed and seemed resigned to the days. “They’re stiffing us on the room, aren’t they?” He tapped the desk. They came back from the shopping centre, grabbed father and said they’d got a reservation at a local restaurant and had to hurry and teleported back out.”

“Please let me access the teleport system,” Amy stated, opening an access port on her left finger where the anti viral programmes were stored.

“You would need a warrant.”

“They’re running out on the bill,” Marcus reminded him. “Plus they’re wanted on Interstella warrants. If we go that way, at least six colony police forces will discover your company aids fleeing fugitives and…”

The Mican waved. “I’ll access and tell you,” he commented. “You watch.”


“One hundred and thirteen,” Gerry said, repeating Midnight’s last words after reading the document sent from Dalton. “One hundred and thirteen missing that match the parameters.”

“Yeah,” Keila stated, driving to back Marcus up. “That’s conservative too,” she groused, grinding her teeth together. “Could be hundreds and no-one’s been looking.”

“We are now,” Gerry remarked bitterly. “As soon as we’re done here.”


Marcus looked around at the hotel. It seemed to be doing well for itself. Very well, in fact. The dining room was full and there were business types around. “Busy,” he asked the receptionist.

“Yeah,” he replied. “One of the sector’s power conglomerate’s having it’s AGM here this week. If it hadn’t been for them booking before the AGM was announced, the Darlington’s would never have gotten in.”

Marcus flashed a look at Amy, who was clearly expressing the same shock as he was, despite her face not moving. “What room were they in,” he asked, “and who are in the surrounding rooms?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“Because death follows them around.”


Keila pulled up and the trio got out of the vehicle to join Marcus and Amy. Gerry slapped the padd with the digital warrant on the desk as the manager joined the receptionist to insist they needed the warrant. “Got it on the way over,” she stated.

“Thanks boss. The Darlington’s teleported away and they won’t tell us where without that. And we have another problem.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “AGM. Major players.”

“And Darlington’s an industrial assassin,” Keila added, making the manager shake with nerves.


Amy and Midnight took the teleport room to access the files and Gerry and Keila joined Marcus in checking the rooms, with hotal employees with them to open the rooms with keycards rather than with boots. Gerry took the Darlington’s room. She assumed they’d told the hospital they were staying at the motalodge to allay suspicions somehow. She didn’t know. She couldn’t guess. She couldn’t find anything in the room of the deputy CEO. “Anything out of order or looking different,” she asked the housekeeper.

The meek grey fur looked around, keeping her hands together as she tried to keep as small as possible. “Uh, I don’t think so,” she said. She looked upwards, to where Marcus was checking the Darlington’s apartment and making noise. “Wait,” she stated, that light looks wrong.” Gerry looked up. She couldn’t see what it was at first but then she noted the small hole drilled through the ceiling and the end that twisted towards her. “A camera,” the housekeeper asked.

“No,” Gerry replied tightly, “a gene based autonomous weapon...”

[Welsh Halfwit]

Seventeen


Turva looked his new friend over and it became apparent that they hadn’t been changed in the same ways. Delap seemed to have sharper teeth than he did. The finned tail was also unique to him… well, unique to him between the two of them. Also the way he ate, tearing apart fish like he was born to it, which he said he wasn’t. Not like this. Turva had assured him that, as the older one, he was by far the most handsome and this had made Delap upset until Turva assured him he was handsome too. The boy was prowling now, occasionally sniffing for scents. Turva could hear waves nearby. There had to be a coast. He just wished he could see it. “They said they’d let us see others soon,” Delap stormed. “Why do they feel the need to lie to us?”

“Because they have all the power, my brother. They…”

“I’m NOT y… Sorry.”

“It’s OK,” Turva said calmly. “I know what you’re going through. The alterations must affect moods? Whatever they did to me must have infected me with a calmness.” He smiled, showing his jagged teeth. “Before this, I’d have had a heart attack if this had happened to me.”

“That’s nonsense… I..” Delap stopped and focussed. “Don’t think I used to get this angry. I’m sorry.”

Turva just held him for a moment. A section of the floor opened up to reveal a deep pool below. “I think we’re being invited to swim,” he said, heading to the water as though hypnotised. Was this the water he’d heard? It didn’t sound right but it’d do. Perhaps the swim would help Delap calm down? They entered the water and neither worried as the gills opened and their heads went underwater before the floor clicked back into place. Underwater lights came on, lighting the path that, with smiles on their faces, both followed at speeds faster than they’d ever swum before.


“So it’s a combat satellite,” Dane stated as the object came close enough for scanning.

“It seems so,” Switt said, watching as Agent Brightfur stepped onto the bridge, holding a purring Marble. “Traitor,” she grumbled, not meaning it.

Sensing the presence of her lead servant, the feline jumped from the agent’s grasp and trotted over to tell her she’d forgiven her for making the nice boy go away. For the moment. Or was that just Letitia’s overactive imagination? Anyhow, she accepted a petting.

“Not on the bridge, Switt,” Dane warned, seeing his feline counterpart. “Looks weird. What are the capabilities of that thing? The satellite, not Marble.” The feline inclined his nose at the larger Cat when he said the name.

“Offensive capabilities… Two plasma cannons, judging from the scans. Ablative armour. Possible sheilds although there’s no way to tell at this range.”

“More of a warden than a bouncer, then,” Dane stated “Likely it’s job is to signal whoever that things are on their way and try to kill them.” He examined the visual on screen with an inexpert eye. “Looks Raitchian to me,” he stated, pointing at certain aspects of the device that often came from Raicarra or similar companies.

“Shamed though I am to admit,” Dalton said, walking around to get to the front of the bridge, “my own government and conglomerates have been known to do shady things and build traps from time to time. Can we go around it?”

“It’s parked at a bottleneck,” Dane pointed out. “Plasma storms in two directions, unexplored space in another direction. A number of worlds we’re not supposed to contact… If we go around here wide enough to avoid all of those it will take us days. And I don’t want to lose the track. Barnard…”

“Probably but I won’t be sure until we try, sir,” the Shrewvian remarked, before realising the Captain hadn’t asked him anything yet. He swivelled in the chair. “Sorry, sir. You were going to ask if I could jam that thing?”

“I was,” he replied as Marble headed over to investigate the comms officer. “but don’t presume.”

“Sorry, sir,” Barnard replied before yelping as Marble bit his tail.

Dane turned back to the screen and only Dalton heard him mutter ‘good Marble’ under his breath. “Switt,” he said, louder, “an officer has just been assaulted, please take the accused to a place they can be confined. And feed them.”

“Sir.”

“Are you going to board that thing when we get close?”

“No,” Dane assured him. “You are.”


“I’ll soon have THAT down,” the manager of the hotel stormed, getting a stepladder so he could reach the atrocity that had been put into HIS lighting array. Gerry put a hand out to stop him and held firm as he tried to shrug her off. “You can’t expect me to leave it up there!”

“I can expect you,” she said coldly but calmly, “to allow the correct, trained, people to disarm that thing. It might only be programmed to target and fire at a particular individual but it might also have a self defence capability if anyone tries to tamper with it.”

“But… there’s no unit on the colony capable of that!” he looked at her. “Are YOU capable of that?”

Gerry examined it from the ground. “My team can deal with basic, bog standard, ones,” she agreed. “This is neither. A bomb squad’s been called for from Caderon. They’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? But… This is one of the main suites!”

“As of now, it’s off limits. Who’s supposed to be in here?”

“The… the CFO of Celcapower,” the manager stammered. “but…”

“You’ll need to find them another room,” Gerry stated clearly. “They can’t come in here. And you’ll need to have staff check every room as soon as possible. There could be more of these. Have them check carefully but thoroughly. Everything. Beds, sideboards, vases, even…”
Her line was broken by the appearance of an upset cleaner, gesticulating wildly towards a room down the passage. Gerry and the manager followed, gesturing Keila should stay there and not let anyone in. The manager had security follow and they entered a room where a corpse with acid burns over half their body lay face up in the shower, melted eye sockets facing them as they looked and the manager threw up.

“As I was going to say,” Gerry finished, turning the shower off, “even the shower gels...”

[Welsh Halfwit]

Eighteen


They’d been going down a long time, Turva thought, wondering how frightening it was that he’d been underwater this long without feeling the need to surface due to lack of air. Whatever these people had done to him and his young friend that he could feel in the fluid behind him He wanted to look back but he knew that would start a turn that would crash him into the wall he could just about se around them as they headed through the tunnel. It was getting a little colder down here but Turva didn’t really feel it. He just fel the slight impression of pressure. Definitely getting deeper. They’d been under how long? He could see a light in the distance. He thought on that for a second. The spirituals on Salvettia insisted the light lead to the heavens but he thought that foolhardy. It was, likely, just a light. He pushed forward to speed up. He might not need to breathe so often now but he enjoyed the memory and it might lead to air.


It did. The passageway angled and led to a small cavern where the water was pressured into a pool and Turva pulled himself over the lip onto the stone and put his hand out for Delap to grasp so he could help the youngster out. Delap gripped his hand and threw himself up, out of the water, to land on Turva, dropping the two, sopping wet, creatures to the ground. Despite themselves, they both laughed. “I have NEVER swum like that,” Delap laughed, shaking himself.

Turva joined in the laughter, holding his new best friend’s hip with one hand. He released the boy’s webbed hand and gripped him in a hug, pulling him tight to his chest and kissing his salty headfur. “Yeah, that was really enjoyable.”

Delap pushed up, gruffing ‘gerroff’ with no real conviction. “But thanks, Turva.” The sharptoothed half smile came through and Turva thought about the fact it was supposed to be friendly but he couldn’t help but think of the teeth tearing his flesh. Like him and his usual food. He hoped that, if Delap ever ate him, he’d kill him first. When had he gotten used to being ‘in the fur’? He’d not even thought of his clothes in days. He wondered if Delap had thought the same?


He looked around. The small cavern was hewn from the rock but it was, largely, natural. It was dark down here but the flick of an eyelid brought it into sharper view for him and he noted Delap looking around too. A cover dropped over the pool entrance and the pressure being fed down by air ducts lessened before a door in the wall opened. A voice spoke and Turva followed Delap’s line of sight as it snapped to the wall to the one side of the door. He squinted. A speaker. <“This way,”> it said. When they didn’t move as required, wondering if they believed the voice, both of them collapsed to the ground as their insides felt like they were being charged. Their limbs shook and they gritted their teeth until it faded. <“You now know how we will control you. This way.”> Turva pushed himself up and helped Delap to his feet. He put the youth on his back and headed for the door. His ears could hear something in the distance. His pace quickened, even as he heard Delap sobbing into his ear. Voices. Lots of voices


The door opened on a chamber with glass sections cut into the walls that showed they were deep underwater, the floor of something underwater with fish he didn’t recognise outside, greys and gold fins flipping by, along with several creatures like themselves working out there, wet welding metal with precision, the storm of bubbles protecting the naked welders and the weld itself as they worked, building a… well, Turva didn’t know what. It was some sort of building anyhow. Delap got down and looked around. “Whoa,” he said in surprise. “There are so many of us.” Turva almost wasn’t listening, though. He wordlessly approached the nearest window, pushing past creatures with odd, pointy ears and snub noses and eyes that could pierce a heart without trying and he put his hand on the thick glass. There were dozens out there, building. Teams of six were moving large steel sheets… Well, they looked like steel to him but what did he know? Some were laying wires. Others were… He watched one of the welders head back with their equipment and come up in a channel near the far wall where he… she surfaced and handed the equipment to another who took her place. He headed back over to Delap, who had just been about to put his nose somewhere inappropriate. The creature, who bore something of a passing relationship to the boy, had begun to turn in alarm, showing off a pointed muzzle and straight, blue lines across his face – and this was a male, yup, looked down at them.

“I, uh, apologise for my friend, Turva said, “he doesn’t kn…”

“It’s how who we were introduce ourselves as pups,” the booming voice said. “No troubles.”


“Turva,” said a voice behind them. The pair turned as an older female Salvettian… well, former Salvettian came towards them.

“She looks like you,” Delap told his best friend.

“Yes, I’m Turva,” he said in confusion. “But I don’t know…” He stopped. The remnants of scent. The lingering smile. The angle of her hips.

“Madera,” he asked.

She replied by wrapping her arms around him, spinning him around and laughing. “Jalda’s going to be so happy to see you!” She paused and put him down. “Noted my extra strength? Who’s this,” she asked, kneeling to be eye to eye with Delap.

“This,” Turva said, putting a hand on Delap’s shoulder. The boy looked at it and decided to let it stay there. “Is Delap. He’s my best friend.”

She smiled, showing her teeth and glint of her third eyelids. “Jalda always said you’d befriend an alien.”

Delap faked offence, his ears flicking back and up. “I’m not an alien, you are!”

“So what is all this about,” Turva asked.


In suits, Dalton and security headed over to the small station via the teleportation device after IT managed to link up whilst Hewelstone jammed the comm signal the station was trying to send out. Dalton reasoned the only way they’d managed to lock on was because the system was still active. The agent let the three security officers take point but there was something showing on his systems. Three life forms. Micans, judging from the scans. They might be friendly. They might be hostile. They might be shipping these barrels that were against the wall. He ran a light over them. Moturacorporan. Barrels of it. Ready for teleport. Why did that sound..? He placed it and tapped his comm. “Brightfur to Dayrin.”

<“Dayrin here, agent,”> Dane replied. <“What do you have?”>

“Barrels of mutagenic gel,” he replied. “Enough here to blend thousands of people.”


And the Micans on the station were decidedly hostile, opening fire on security as they opened the door.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Nineteen


Gerry had no time for the local Police as she headed to the teleport room. Midnight and Amy had located the family’s destination at the local starport. A quick search had uncovered two liners leaving shortly and they had no clue as to which one. She’d already told the locals to lock the starport down and they’d advised that locking out the area by sealing the gates would be easy. Stopping the flights wouldn’t be so swiftly done. Gerry nodded. “Keila, take Marcus and go to the starport. Midnight, Amy, drive the vehicles back to the landing zone for the Hawkrin.”

“What are you going to do,” Marcus asked.

“I’m going to create a problem in the air, Marcus.”

“So we’re gambling on them actually taking a shuttle to another colony,” Keila asked. “Wasn’t the husband seriously ill a few days back?”

“So they’ll need medical support. If they want him to live.”

“That would suggest the Farkin,” Amy suggested. “A speedliner between the local colonies. It will get to Darlan faster.” She looked at the others as they expected her to continue. “It is the best hospital in the area,” she stated.

“Oh. Right.” Gerry nodded as the Feline Android and Midnight headed for the vehicles. Amy and Marcus made for the teleport pads and Gerry sent them to the sandiest starport the pair had ever seen.


Sand and dust whirled around the lift pads as the two agents made their way to the departure area to show their idents and the pictures of the Darlingtons. “Have these three come through here?”

The guard swallowed and nodded. The Mican he hadn’t really noticed but the Canine and their son? They’d stood out, especially helping him to walk. They’d claimed he’d had too much to drink but he’d not credited that and would have stopped them if anyone had told him, which they hadn’t so…

“...Just show us where they are,” Marcus replied. He needed a plan. He supposed he might have one.


Energy fire sizzled into the room as the security contingent engaged their shields and fired back at their assailants as Dalton stayed back and launched a microdrone from his ket to see what they were up against. The satellite was small but well equipped, with decent technology and defences, according to the tiny spy as it buzzed around a suited and booted Mican, taking a little note of the heavy energy weapon he was using to defend his position as another was trying to arm the self destruct system. Dalton thought he needed to put a stop to that so crashed the drone into the back of the creature’s neck, the minute charge inside blowing out the camera – and, possibly, part of the target’s neck – as the drone died. “They have Erop six heavy blasters,” he told the others. “Two Micans confirmed, one suspected,” he said.

<“Why suspected,”> the one guard advised, pulling their head back from the incoming fire.

“There’s always a third,” Dalton guessed. “Can you take the fire for a few shots?”

<“For one or two shots. Why?”>

Dalton indicated the barrels of mutagenic liquid. “I don’t want a firefight next to this stuff,” he advised. The guards agreed with him and they pushed out into the hallway, looking for cover that wasn’t there. They fired as they clumped forward in their suits with Dalton waiting for several seconds before following, giving the other assailant enough time to expose their position by firing at the back of the team. He threw himself of, staying close to floor level and fired to where he reckoned the shot had come from as one of the guards turned, putting maximum shields to his back, where the bolt had hit. Their concentrated attack staggered the guard and a second pair of bolts dropped him after holing his chest before the back of the guards armour failed and he fell forward, dead to the hallway and covered Dalton with his body as the other Dayrin guard fired again. Dalton did his best to turn towards the enemy as the technician defending the base turned from trying to blow the place up to trying to repel boarders.


Ah,” Switt said from the sciences chair. “There’s a ship coming in. She’s on long range right now but she’s definitely heading this way.”

Dane crossed the bridge to look over the shoulder of his first Officer. It wasn’t that he doubted her. He never had. It ws more that he knew she doubted herself so she might appreciate the back up. “How can you be sure it’s headed here,” he asked.

She shrugged. “Where else is there, out here?”

He supposed she had a point. “No identification yet. Keep an eye on them, Letitia. Tell me when you can ID them.”

“They’re sending a hail,” Hewelstone remarked. Looks like they’re trying to communicate with the station.”

“Good job we’re jamming them,” Dane replied. “Cut our transponder. Let’s not tell them who we are.”


Keila made her way through to departures as Marcus enacted his plan to trap the Darlingtons. She was there in case it failed. She looked through the lounge and couldn’t see the targets. It might mean the plan was working as people were called for the flight and filed through the gate. She could hear them arguing with the check in staff who’d been having some trouble with their passports which had nothing to do with the head of security blocking access to the galnet servers every time they tried to access it. The officer protested that the shuttle would wait for them and it would be… Ah, there they were. The passports came through and the trio hurried after the others, who’d passed through three minutes back. Keila followed on as they went, hearing their boots on the covered walkway that led them down to the access point of the shuttle. Marcus joined her at a run and she bade him go quietly so as not to spoil it


The trio pulled up as they reached the hatch of the ship and Gerry stepped into view. “Welcome to your express shuttle to the Police Station,” she stated, drawing her weapon as the others arrived behind them and did likewise. “The cells are first class and MUST be experienced,” she added.