Goodbye

Ground
Control to Major Tom

Your circuit's dead, there's something
wrong

Can you hear me, Major Tom?

Can you hear me, Major
Tom?

Can you hear me, Major Tom?

Can you...

-“Space
Oddity," by David Bowie

Our
tearful reunion was cut short by the pressing matter at hand. Rashar
was waiting for us and there was no time to waste.

Dondrae,
being the strongest, helped boost everyone back up into the vent
before being pulled in by Yaleen. There was still room for the
larger, Lupiad-Sirian, but he did bang his shoulders a few times
before successfully learning how to crawl in the vents.

Thankfully,
the guards had not returned to their post. I suppose, even if they
had, they were expecting to hear a little bit of noise inside while
their commander tenderized Dondrae.

Hopefully
it would be some time before they discovered he was dead, Rashar had
warned us about causing unnecessary deaths among the marines.

Our
system of navigation remained unchanged, except for Dondrae trailing
behind Yaleen. Yaleen was still reading off Rashar's list of
directions and I was getting the taps on my body to pass the message
along.

The
system worked great until we suddenly came to a halt in front of a
maintenance hatch. I was not sure what to do, as Aldor's taps on my
shoulder became difficult to decipher. I leaned back and shone the
pistols light against the vent above Yaleen, making sure its sights
were not tagging her. Her mouth was silently moving, but being not an
expert at reading lips, let alone thin, black Vulpeculan lips, I
couldn't understand a word she was saying.

“What?"
I mouthed.

Sighing,
she finally whispered, “We're here. Open it."

Her
voice hissed down the duct. It had been a long time since we passed a
grate, so I assumed that whenever it traveled far enough to reach a
guard, it would be just an indistinct noise by that point.

A
hushed hum began to echo past the hatch, growing steadily more loud
as whatever it belong to drew closer until it passed by the hatch
with a quick whoosh. Seeing this as a safe opportunity to continue, I
placed my hands on the handles and pulled them to the sides with a
strained crunch.

The
hatch slid open, revealing a vertical shaft that seemed to stretch
downwards for eternity. Looking up, I saw the butt-end of an elevator
car, sliding down towards me. I slipped back into the vent with
plenty of time to spare before it crushed my head like a melon.

“What
now?" I whispered.

“Wait,"
was all Yaleen said and she tapped her datapad a few times.

So,
we waited in the dark as the elevator rose and fell countless times.
I don't know how long it took, but eventually, the car descended
past the hatch and came to a sudden stop with a thud.

The
roof of the car was almost level with the shaft we were in. Before I
could say anything to Yaleen, not that I would have dared utter a
word, a hatch atop the car swung open. I silently trained my pistol
on it, ready to unload hot lead as soon as someone spotted us.

“Cool
it, human," Rashar's muffled voice called out from the car,
somehow knowing I was ready to pop him one, “get in the car and for
the love of the Empire, don't do anything stupid!"

Sighing,
we crawled out of the shaft and swung down into the elevator car,
one-by-one. I carefully checked the medical bag I was carrying,
feeling each vial stored within it, while Rashar took off his
gas-mask and forcefully nuzzled his nose against Yaleen's.

“Alright,
there's no turning back now," Rashar said as he let Yaleen go.
Her tail lashed once in irritation, “this elevator takes us
directly to the shuttle bay via the maintenance room. We'll pass by
less guards that way..."

“Sounds
like you're not so sure," Dondrae said, crossing his arms.

“There
will
be less guards, but there will also be more maintenance crew,"
Rashar sighed and slapped his mask back onto his feline face,
“they'll be less likely to give us trouble, but even they might
question why one soldier is escorting four prisoners, let alone
through the maintenance bay."

“Why
the hell are we going this way then?" I demanded.

“Because
the only other option is to go directly to the hangar, upon which the
guards, assuming they don't decide to blow us away on sight, will
tell us to wait until they get verification from their CO, who, you
might recall, is currently muzzled and locked up in a restraint box."

“Shit..."

“It's
the easiest path. We just have to sneak through the office and get to
a hatch on the other side of the tower, that will take us to the
shuttle bay," Rashar pulled out a yellow keycard, “and with the
Commander's access card, we'll be able to bypass authorization
for disembarking."

“And
when we launch? What's to stop the Regulians from unloading all
their guns on us?" Dondrae asked.

“Making
up a damned good excuse on the comms," Rashar twisted the emergency
stop key and the elevator rumbled to a start, “just let me do the
talking."

The
car moved exceptionally slow, sometimes feeling like it wasn't
moving at all. Making matters worse was as soon as the car started
moving, a quiet, instrumental version of the Regulian Imperial Anthem
began slowly humming out of loudspeakers. Despite it being a symbol
of Regulian domination, the instrumental version was kind of
soothing, however this particular rendition was off-key and the
speakers kept scratching and popping, making it intolerable.

“We're
really doing this, huh?" my hand grabbed Dondrae's furry paw. He
gripped me tight, rubbing his rough pads softly over my palm. I
looked to the two green-eyed Vulpeculans, who were also holding paws.
They didn't quite look like themselves, being dressed in the simple
prisoner's outfit here instead of their usual gear.

“Been
a long road, huh?" I asked them.

“Not
really," Aldor scratched at his cheek, “I haven't so much as
stepped on a road here."

“No
regrets?" I asked Yaleen.

“Wouldn't
have minded visiting Flint a second time. Equuleians are quite hard
to come by in Regulian space, very expensive."

“Oh,
gross!" Aldor stuck his tongue out. “Sis! No!"

“Dondrae?"
I squeezed his paw.

“Don't
believe in regrets," he squeezed back.

“Yeah.
Got one though," I sighed, “wish I could have brought some
redweed back with us. Probably could sell that for a mint."

Dondrae
laughed and slapped me on the shoulder firmly, “You're gonna have
to get out of the Planet mentality. No need to haul around a truck
full of cigarettes for trade no more!"

“Kurwa!
Soon you're gonna be nagging me to get a job!"

A
wet nose poked at my cheek, “That's love, Pawel."

“Alright,
shut your yaps and put these on," Rashar passed us all pairs of
thin, metal cuffs that had a tiny, digital screen with an emblem of a
closed lock on them, despite the cuffs being open.

We
obliged, despite none of us having a particularly eager urge to be
back in chains, but it turned out to be a needless worry. Even when
the cuffs were shut, they weren't truly locked and all it took was
the slightest bit of resistance to fling them off.

“These
aren't going to help, not unless the maintenance crew are totally
fucking stupid," Rashar said while helping put Yaleen's on, “but
you never know. Better than nothing."

“Confident,"
Dondrae muttered sarcastically.

“You
don't like it, you can go back to jail. I don't give a shit."

Rashar
turned towards the sliding doors and waited, keeping his rifle
pressed up to his chest. Dondrae slapped me on the shoulder and
pointed towards Rashar's back, then made a gesture with his paws:
making a circle with his thumb and forefinger with his left paw, then
slipping his thumb and forefinger inside and then creating another
circle with them. I laughed, it was a vulgar Lupiad and Sirian
gesture for calling someone a bitch.

“Follow
my lead," Rashar said as the doors hissed open.

Plate-glass
windows greeted us. They bordered a large, circular chamber filled
with mechanics focused on repairing shuttles. Rashar led us to a
section by the glass that was inches away from a thoroughly dissected
shuttle. Despite the irritated lashing of a tufted Regulian tail
being visible from the other side, it was enough cover to keep us
escapees hidden.

Rashar
held us paw up, palm forward, and we remained in position, crouching
slightly. Rashar marched forward, along the circular rim of the
repair bay, twisting around it until he was out of sight. I could see
that there was a metal door against the wall in the direction he was
heading.

Most
of the engineers were dressed in bright, yellow jumpsuits. Most were
Regulians, with a fair mixture of maned males and smaller females;
but there was the odd Lupiad and Sirian running around as well. Guard
presence was light, I could only count one or two marines in the same
armor as Rashar, wielding rifles at the ready, and they weren't
exactly making a tight sweep of the area.

On
closer inspection, contrary to the reputation of Regulian discipline,
I found that one of the soldiers had a traveling mug of some hot
beverage that he was carrying in his left paw, using his wrist to
support his rifle barrel; while the other soldier, a lioness-like
Regulian, appeared to be interested in one of the mechanics, a
ridiculously buff Sirian that looked like a pitbull, and would slap
him on the ass whenever she passed, which was frequent. The Sirian,
who was hauling some massive piece of equipment to a shuttle, ignored
this as best as he could.

This
was hardly the time to complain about the Regulian Empire's
workplace harassment laws (Which are actually quite strict, as long
as you aren't a slave.), but it was a little amusing to find
something to take my mind off the ridiculously dangerous thing we
were about to do.

Rashar
suddenly appeared from around the wall. A brief fearful thought crept
into my mind that with his armor and gas-mask, there really wasn't
anything separating him from the other guards and that it could be
anyone approaching us. This fear evaporated when he motioned for us
to follow with his paw.

I
peeked toward the bay and made sure no one was staring directly at us
and then followed. We kept our heads low, easy for most of us but
difficult for Dondrae, who was significantly taller than both me and
the Vulpies.

“No
guards at the door," Rashar whispered as he led the way.
“Maintenance ladder at far end of the bay next to the wrecked flak
cannon. Look quickly, don't stare."

I
glanced over quickly and spotted the cannon. The base of it was
totally wrecked, but the slender barrel of it stretched out over a
tiny ladder that sunk into the ground. After entering the maintenance
room, it would only be a two minute walk to reach it if we didn't
have to worry about the guards.

“Look
away," Rashar ordered quietly. I averted my eyes just before a
maintenance worker matched my gaze.

“One
of them saw me," I whispered, “by the base of the cannon."

Rashar
moved his neck slightly to the right, not enough for most people to
notice. He quickly spoke, “He's back to work. No alarm."

We
bunched up next to the thick frame surrounding the metal doors, a
brief moment of cover. Dondrae placed his palm on the back of my
shoulders, while Yaleen and Aldor huddled up on the opposite side.
Rashar grumbled and stood in front of the door.

“There's
a freight container on the left. Go there," Rashar said. “Mutt,
peek out and give us the clear."

Dondrae
leaned slightly to the right, peeking through the window. A few
seconds passed as his tail gently tapped against my leg before he
spoke.

“Clear."

Rashar
stepped forward and the door swished open. The marine hastily marched
into the room as calmly has he could, making a beeline for a blue
container. I tried to keep my eyes focused, but I couldn't help but
shift them to the right and left, looking for any unwanted attention
from the maintenance crew.

My
heart was about to burst when we reached the container and Rashar
motioned for us to get in. There was a pile of crates near the back
with just enough room for us to hide behind. We piled up in there,
with me falling back against Dondrae's chest onto the ground and
the two Vulpies kneeling on the ground. I peeked through a crack
between two crates at eye level and saw Rashar standing guard,
scanning the area.

A
loud bang rang across the shell of the container.

“Hey!"
a voice cried out by the entrance.

Rashar
jumped back a step, nearly drawing his rifle on a figure approaching
from the right. It was another soldier, the male Regulian I had seen
earlier and he was sipping from his mug, casually letting his rifle
hang at his side.

“Rashar,
how's it hanging?" the Regulian asked.

“Well,
and you?"

“Living
the dream," the solder replied with a shrug. “Boring post, up
here in maintenance."

“Not
much in the way of glory, huh?"

“I'll
take it. Fuck, I mean, once our tour is done here, they're just
gonna alter our memories anyway!" the soldier whined. “Lets say I
do something heroic here, it ain't gonna get me promoted and I sure
as hell couldn't brag about it to my buddies! Fucking Forbidden
Zone postings!"

“It
can be rough."

“And
then they took away my recreation floor rights just cause I got a
little drunk on the job!" the soldier took a long sip from his mug.
“Ain't fair, I tell y-!"

The
soldier stopped suddenly, not making a move until he lifted his
muzzle and began sniffing at the air. His nose turned to the left
until he was staring straight in my direction.

“What've
you got there, Rashar?" the soldier whispered, the tip of his tail
curling up happily. My heart raced and I wrapped my fingers around my
pistol.

Rashar
grumbled slightly, “Trafficking."

“What!?"
the soldier hissed, but his tail kept swishing lightly. “Rashar,
that's-!"

“Gotta
make crowns somehow," Rashar shrugged, “I'm working with one of
the bureaucrats on the supply station. I sneak them out with the junk
we get from the Dealers and then the pencil-pusher sells them on the
side when they purchase all the food and guns for the planet."

“That's
treason!"

“Minor
treason. Really, it's the Claw's fault for operating this place
like a fucking source of entertainment. Letting the Dealers and
Gangers on the Planet order whatever fucking obscure toys they want,
like they aren't prisoners? Fuck, you can't be surprised if
someone gets sick of trolling the markets for antiquated weapons and
decides to sell some other merchandise from the planet."

“It
doesn't matter! They're still-"

“You
want in?"

“Yes!"
the Regulians' ear's perked up. “But uh, I think I'd like to
inspect some of the merchandise first."

“Only
fair."

“And
uh, I did mention I don't have recreation privileges, right? Just
want to make it clear that by inspect-"

“I
got it," Rashar groaned. “I've two Vulpies that you might be
interested in. They're destined for the brothels, but they're not
pure so you can go ahead and inspect them."

“Don't
mind if I do."

The
soldier stepped into the container, setting his rifle and mug atop a
crate by the entrance. He took off his leg armor, letting it clatter
to the floor, and adjusted his trousers, rubbing at the crotch.

“I'm
not going to hurt you," he cooed, “just want to have some fun."

The
soldier didn't notice Rashar retrieving his silenced pistol from
its holster, keeping it readied at his hip. He also certainly didn't
notice Yaleen, who was still out of sight and behind the crates,
taking out her needler.

He
stopped to breath, taking in the scent of the container with glee,
“You smell so good, just like a female."

Yaleen
shifted her position, leaning back against me and aiming her needler
towards the corner of the crates.

“Here
I come! Ready or n-!"

As
soon as the Regulian rounded the corner, Yaleen's needler shot a
dart straight into his mouth with a hushed thud. Fear welled up in
his eyes and he began to make horrific choking noises as he sank to
the floor, trying to reach into his maw to pull the needle out.

His
efforts would be in vain. Rashar padded into the container and
cracked his friend over the skull with the butt of his own rifle
until he slumped limp against the wall of the container. Blood
dripped out of his mouth and onto his armor.

“Didn't
want to do that. No choice though."

Rashar
stepped back out of the container and stood guard once again. Some
light escaped into the container, making the Regulian's eyes
glisten yellow in the dark as if he were still alive.

After
what seemed like forever, Rashar finally gave us the signal to go and
he slid across to the right of the container. We got up and followed,
rounding the corner. Rashar was waiting for us at the edge of the
container, peering around the corner.

I
could see the ladder, it was not far. I was desperate to make a dash
for it, but I knew that even if I was quick, there's no way the
alarm wouldn't be sounded and we'd be locked down here.

“One
at a time. Wait at the bottom."

Aldor
was first up and he stepped into the open space of the bay without no
much as glancing about with fear. He was so quick that when I
blinked, all I saw was the tip of his tail disappearing down the
hatch.

Yaleen
was a bit more nervous, but kept her needler at her hip with her left
paw, just out of sight of a casual glance from maintenance. She ran
into no trouble.

Dondrae
gave me a quick nuzzle on the cheek before leaving and it killed me
to see him separate from us. My heart nearly stopped when he was
halted just a few seconds after exiting into the bay.

“Hey!"

Dondrae's
tail tucked between his legs and he went stiff.

“Put
some fucking clothes on! Get outta here!" someone cried it. It
sounded like the Sirian crew member.

Nervously
waving, Dondrae shuffled down the bay and encountered no more
resistance.

“Your
turn, human," Rashar said.

Sweat
poured down my brow and I suddenly felt like I was in the middle of a
meadow, surrounded by hunters hiding in the bush. Aliens in yellow
jumpsuits were busy, tending to their own business, but the female
soldier was who I feared. She was busy sexually harassing another
Sirian mechanic, this one being short and puffy like some kind of
yappy dog, who happened to be tending to the cannon. Her back was
turned, but all it would take was one twist of the hip and that would
be it.

The
Sirian suddenly stepped away from the cannon and towards me, his eyes
were rolled and not paying me any heed, but the Regulian suddenly
turned sharply to follow him.

I
leaped behind the base of the cannon and grabbed the top of the
ladder, flinging myself down the hatch. I took a moment to catch my
breath before descending.

It
was not a very deep tunnel and I found the others waiting for me at
the bottom in a small, square room with a corridor leading to a blue
door. I hugged Dondrae, burying my face in his gray fur.

“Just
gotta wait for Rashar," I whispered. My heart was beating very fast
and I was having trouble controlling myself. I never had more to lose
now than ever.

“It's
okay, love," Dondrae whispered back.

A
tiny paw tapped me on the shoulder. I turned my head away from
Dondrae's furry mass and saw Aldor poking his nose in.

“We're
about to enter space, isn't that exciting?" Aldor said in a
strained, forcefully calm voice. He was trying to make me feel
better. “You must feel like Major Tom."

Since
he was trying to help me calm down, he technically succeeded, but it
had the side-effect of replacing anxiety with bafflement.

“Who?"

“Major
Tom! The first human in space!" Aldor was wagging his tail
excitedly. “I served with a human in the war who told me about him
and he had a ballad to him playing on the radio!"

Now
I was trying not to laugh, “Space Oddity?"

“That's
it! That's what he called it!" Aldor began humming the tune of
the song as low and as subdued as a Vulpeculan could possibly hope
to.

“Don't
you know how that song ends?" a vision of an astronaut floating off
into space all alone came into my mind, but it didn't fill me with
sadness or anxiety. In fact, a strange sensation of peace began to
overcome me.

“No!
The song's in human, how would I know! How does it end?"

I
gave Aldor a hug and patted him on the back. Aldor was kind of
adorable, I almost wanted to give him a kiss on the cheek, but didn't
want to make Dondrae jealous, “I'll tell you one of these days."

Rashar
suddenly slammed onto the ground before us, having opted to jump
instead of climb and nearly scaring the pants off of us.

“Ready?"
Rashar asked.

I
nodded and Rashar pushed Dondrae and me aside, walking down the
corridor. Dondrae repeated his vulgar gesture behind Rashar's back.

Rashar
gently opened the door and peered out.

“Now's
the time. Come on!"

We
followed Rashar out of the room and entered an empty corridor that
had five open airlocks lining the wall on the left. On the right was
a glass window showing a heavily guarded security room, but all the
guards were focused on looking the opposite direction from us.

Rashar
darted forward, ordering into the first airlock and we entered into a
docking tunnel that led through another airlock. Rashar did not
follow us until a few minutes later when he emerged through the
tunnel and he hit a panel, making the airlock close behind him with a
hiss.

“I've
ejected the other shuttles, should help buy us some time."

We
were on a spaceship. I had been on one before, I knew that much, but
the mind-alteration had taken the memories away for the most part.
Still, I was born before the Regulians invaded Earth, a time when
humanity was resigned to being grounded on our little planet. It was
still a thrill to be on a spaceship, even if it was small.

And
small it was. To our right was the cockpit, which had two pilot seats
facing a viewing port and countless controls, along with two seats
against the wall with heavy-duty seatbelts hanging loosely from them.
To the left were two rows of seats up against the walls that were
separated from the rest of the shuttle by heavy security doors. A
wide airlock was on the far side of the room, to the left, most
likely to allow marines to disembark straight into the thick of
battle.

“Suit
up!" Rashar barked as he pulled open a closet, revealing about ten
spacesuits hanging from a rack on the wall. I hung up the medical bag
on one of the racks to keep it safe.

Yaleen,
Aldor and Rashar were the first to figure out the suits, which were
bright yellow and rather baggy. This was a little surprising to me,
as the suits were clearly Regulian sized and I expected the short
Vulpies to object, but they did not. When Yaleen got her suit on,
the sleeves, including the tail-bag, were flopping around like a
child wearing their parent's clothes. This changed when she pressed
a button and there was a sharp hiss as the suit constricted until it
clung to her form, more or less. It was still bulky and some parts
sagged a bit more than others, but she'd be able to function in it.

Dondrae
and I followed suit, with Dondrae's suit fitting him almost
perfectly. I ran into additional humanity issues of course. Even
after the suit constricted around me, nearly choking the life out of
me at first, the tail-bag on the butt of the suit hung like a loose
sock. On top of that, although the helmet sealed along the neck of my
suit, it had a long snout that was disorienting for me, being a
flat-faced human. I banged the tip of my helmet against walls
countless times, just getting the damned thing on.

Worst
of all though, were the boots. There was no getting around it, I had
a completely different leg structure than the others. I was able to
get my feet into the leg section by sort of 'standing' on my toes
and slipping them in, but the legs and boots hung limply, much like
the tail bag. I had to use my hands most of the time when moving
around, despite the boots having magnets that could be turned on to
get your feet on the ground when in zero gravity.

Yaleen
and Aldor were manning the pilot seats, both of whom had space flight
experience, while Rashar hovered above his Princess, obnoxiously
giving her orders.

“Send
the request to open the bay doors."

Yaleen
tapped on the console and an, “Access Denied," message popped up.
Rashar swiped the access card he stole and outside the window, we
could see cracks of light showing as the steel doors opened,
revealing the clear, blue sky of Planet.

“Alright
dear, we only get this one chance," Rashar patted Yaleen on the
shoulder, “you're going to have to execute a Planetary Lif-"

“I've
done this before," Yaleen said quietly.

“As
have I," Aldor said.

“Just
be ready when the marines get on the comms and start asking
questions, my Prince."

Rashar
hissed inside of his helmet before ordering us all to strap in.

I
didn't like it, but there wasn't room enough for all of us at the
front, so Dondrae had to sit in the transport bay. We were too bulked
up in our astronaut gear to kiss, so we gently patted the other on
the chest with our palms.

Me
and Rashar sat down on the seats behind the Vulpeculans and strapped
in.

“Alright,
lets go!"

Aldor
pressed a button and the ship roared to life as we slowly rumbled out
of the hangar bay. When we escaped the lip of the dock, I could see
the tip of mountains off on the horizon.

If
only my friends on Planet could have seen me now…

“Planetary
Lift-Off underway," Yaleen announced as the engines lowered to a
hum, “brace yourself."

The
engines began to get noisier at a gradual pace until it reached the
point where my ears were starting to ring and the shuttle began to
shake.

“5."

“4."

“3."

“2."

I
held my breath.

“1."

“Lift-off!"

To
be honest, and I understand this is quite normal, I blacked out for a
few seconds. What I did see before that point, was us darting across
Planet at unbelievable speeds and I lost consciousness when I saw the
Tower, us having completed a full circle around Planet in an instant.

When
I awoke, the ship was rumbling violently and I could see the blue sky
part ways for us, revealing the empty blackness of space. The ship
suddenly went very still as the engine died down in favor of its
weaker thrusters. I was still in my seat, but I was not truly sitting
down. Were it not for the restraints, I'd be floating about the
ship freely.

Right
on time, the comms began to buzz.

“Delta-2,
you were not granted permission to disembark! If you do not answer
immediately-"

“Let
me talk to him," Rashar demanded.

Yaleen
flicked on the comms and Rashar took off his helmet with a proud look
on his face.

“This
is Agent Gretho of the Claw. Power down your weapons," Rashar
hissed.

There
was a pause on the other end of the radio.

“Agent,
what are you doing on the shuttle?"

“None
of your concern," Rashar replied, “this is above your clearance
level and anyone else in this zone. You can sign a letter of protest
to the Imperal Government, if you wish."

“B-but,
the prisoner, you were supposed to…!"

“Power
down your weapons and let us be. My business is my own."

Rashar
ordered Yaleen to power down the receiver as the Regulian on the
other end continued to blubber nervously.

“We
need to remove the tracking beacon if we want to escape this zone
without friends," Rashar said to me, “I'm going to need your
help and the mutt's."

“Where's
that?"

Rashar
put his helmet back on and sealed it.

“Kurwa..."
I hissed.

“Time
to learn how to spacewalk, human," Rashar laughed, “it's really
not so hard. Besides, if you float away I'm sure the Claw will
retrieve you."

“Comforting."

“Agent
Gretho!" a shocked voice exclaimed on the comms. Rashar ordered
Yaleen to turn it back on.

Rashar
began to speak, “This is Agent Gr-"

“Agent
Gretho speaking," a new voice spoke on the comms. The voice had
almost a sing-song cadence to it, very unusual for a Regulian and
somewhat familiar sounding.

Yaleen
and Aldor turned their heads to face Rashar, who was now audibly
cursing under his breath.

“Silence,
hm?" the real Agent said. “And here I was, so eager to meet
another Agent in the service with my name!"

“T-There
appears to have been a mistake!" Rashar stammered out.

“No,
imposter, the only mistake here is the one you've committed,"
Gretho said, “now we come to the unpleasant matter of deciding why
we shouldn't evaporate your wretched shuttle?"

Rashar
was at a loss for words. Realizing this, Yaleen took over the comms.

“Agent,
this is Princess Yaleen Yi-Pah of Beta Vulpeculae. My Uncle is
expecting me alive and-"

“Princess,
as far as I'm concerned, the soldiers here could skin you and turn
you into a fashionable winter jacket! I couldn't give a damn about
your niece-fucking Uncle!"

“I
have the human, Pawel Lis aboard."

The
Agent chuckled lowly, “Oh, ho, ho! That changes things! But do you
really think you can outrun us? Outrun the Imperial Fleet?"

Aldor
suddenly cut the comms, “The nearest fleet is a week's travel
away, according to the computer! He's bluffing!"

Yaleen
opened up the communications again, “I think we'll take our
chances."

“Such
bravery! My dear, I think I'll have to come up there and see you in
person! Why don't you be a good vixen and greet us on the ground
with your hands atop your head? We'll be seeing you very soon!"

The
comms suddenly cut out.

“Kurwa!"
I shouted, removing my restraints and heading down to the bay where
Dondrae was waiting for us by the airlock. “We need to move!"

Rashar
lumbered up behind us, his magnetized boots clunking against the
ground, “I told you, I've ejected the shuttles. It'll take them
a good half-hour to dock them again!"

“There's
no other shuttle bays?" Dondrae barked.

“None!"

The
security doors shut, locking us in the bay. The airlock opened and we
entered, letting it close behind us. Shortly after, the next airlock
opened and the void greeted us.

Planet
was only about the size of a coin now, utterly dwarfed by the
vastness of space.

“Can
you hear me?" Rashar's voice buzzed on the intercom attached to
my helmet.

“Roger,"
Dondrae said,

“Loud
and clear," I said.

“Good,"
Rashar exhaled, “follow my lead. And grab the toolbox on the
right."

He
released the maglocks on his boots, allowing him to gently float
freely. Pulling himself along the edges of the airlock using several
handles, he goaded himself out of the ship and reached for a similar
handle on the back of the shuttle, pulling himself up and out of
sight.

It
was getting a little tiring, following this Regulian, but it would be
all over soon. Dondrae grabbed a yellow toolbox with him as he
awkwardly floated forwards, kicking his legs frantically as he moved.
As silly as it looked, at least he had the option of kicking his
legs, while I could barely so much as wiggle them, being in a
digitgrade spacesuit. There were thrusters attached to my suit, but
being as disoriented as I was, I couldn't quite understand how to
make them work properly.

I
grabbed the handle and pulled myself out. A small ladder made up of
similar handles was welded onto the ship and I continued climbing.
The black void surrounded us and it felt like it was threatening to
consume us all when I stared into it too long. This, along with
Planet getting visibly smaller behind us, served to create a
terrifying feeling of insignificance.

I
finally reached the last run and crawled onto the roof of the ship
where Rashar was waiting, bent over a panel. The shuttle had two
short wings on both sides, each with two heavy-looking round engines,
very similar to jets.

Dondrae
walked up from behind me, having activated his magnetic boots, laying
himself and the toolbox down by Rashar. The Regulian snatched the
toolbox, opened it up, and retrieved a thick screwdriver with a
square head.

“Alright,
once we get this open, we'll have to remove the tracker's
components in a tight sequence. If we screw up on that, it'll send
an alert to the Imperial Fleet, along with the ship's model and
serial," Rashar's voice was raspy on the helmet's comms, “if
that happens, we can bash it off, but we won't be able to land
anywhere in the Regulian Empire."

“Guess
we'd have to defect to the Lacertans then," Dondrae chuckled.

“The
Claw would be more merciful. At least the Claw are fucking sentient."

“What
do you mean?"

Rashar
hissed as one of the panel's screws slipped away and bounced off of
the ship's hull, “Never you mind."

“You
said that the tracker could send an alert to the Fleet?" I asked.
“What's stopping them from listing this ship as being missing?"

“What's
stopping them is the Claw's pride and this site being a Forbidden
Zone," Rashar said, “just like how I asked you to minimize marine
casualties. If the Claw thinks they can get away with covering up
their black eye, they'll do it. But if you broadcast, 'I'm a
stolen ship' to the entire Fleet, all of a sudden it'll become
that much harder to do."

“Oh
fuck!"

Dondrae's
voice was panicked and he was facing down the aft, back at Planet.
Planet was, for once, not the only thing in the void though. There
was a tiny star that was gradually getting larger and larger, until
it was clearly a space shuttle. It did not look that different from
ours in shape, but it was painted obsidian black and had no obvious
military markings. On top of that, it had two laser cannons mounted
underneath the wings.

“I
thought you said they didn't have any more shuttles!" I growled
at Rashar.

“They
didn't!"

“Then
what the fuck is that!?"

“Oh
shit..." Rashar trailed off and breathed slowly, “I took care of
all the normal shuttles, but there is an infrequently used dock
that's reserved for visitors such as-"

“Hello?
Hello?" that awful voice of the Regulian Claw Agent came singing on
the helmet comms. “Ah, I think I have the right frequency now!
Hello! Hello!"

“This
is Pawel Lis. If anything were to happen to me-"

“Ah,
Pawel Lis! I'm afraid you're obsolete! Someone very politely left
the coordinates for Pathos on a sticky note taped to the Commander!"
the Regulian clicked his tongue. “If you hadn't done that,
perhaps I might be vulnerable to leverage, but since you have..."

I
gulped and reminded myself that if I hadn't done that, all life on
Planet could have been wiped out by the Regulians. It was still worth
it.

“But
I am feeling merciful! If you surrender and power down your engines
without a fight, you won't be harmed. Well, not by me at least! I'm
debating between having the lot of you used for further
mind-alteration experiments or donating you to our torture classes!"

“You're
not exactly giving us a good alternative!"

“I
don't have to!" Gretho laughed. “I'm just here to have a good
time!"

The
ship suddenly rumbled violently as two violet lasers struck the right
engine of our shuttle. Sparks flew as the beams maintained contact
for several seconds before cutting out.

“Shit,
he's trying to fry our engines!" Rashar growled.

“Yes,
that's correct!" Gretho chuckled. “Some people find tormenting
a wounded animal ignoble, but it's quite good fun!"

Gretho's
ship was hovering slowly towards us, confident that it had us
trapped. A sequence of lights were flashing on the outside of its
laser cannons and they both fired, striking the same engine once
more.

“Pawel!"
Rashar grabbed me by the shoulders as I nearly lost my grip on a
handle atop the roof. He took out a small, round piece of metal from
one of his pockets and pressed a button atop it. A digital screen
showing the Regulian numeral for 5 showed up.

“Hold
this!" he grabbed my hand and forced my thumb to keep the button
pressed down. “You know what to do!"

I
suppose I couldn't fault Rashar for wanting to keep the plan vague,
after all, a Claw agent was tapped into our communications frequency.
Couldn't fault him for trying to execute our last, most desperate
gambit yet.

But
I sure as hell can fault Rashar for picking me up and throwing me
face-first at the ship.

“Pawel!"
Dondrae cried out.

“Fuck!
Shit-shit-shit-shit!" was all I could think as I went hurtling
through the abyss. I kept my thumb pressed on the button as tight as
I could and used my other hand to try and maneuver using the thruster
controls, but in the confusion I couldn't figure out my left from
my right, let alone up from down and just sort of started spinning
around.

Which
was a big problem as Rashar's aim was off and I was on course to
hurtle past the ship, just a few feet over the top of its hull.

I
could throw it down as I pass. Wouldn't be hard, I
thought to myself. I'd
save the day, wouldn't I?

That
was more important than any resentment towards Rashar. Sometimes
we're thrust into being a hero because we just happen to be in the
right place at the right time. Sometimes we're thrown into being a
hero by a lion-man in combat armor.

I
was prepared for this.

But
a weight crashed into me from behind and a strong arm cradled my
chest.

“I
got you, I got you," Dondrae whispered.

I
let go of the thruster controls on my suit and let Dondrae guide me
downwards with his own. We landed with a slight crash and Dondrae
activated his boots, sticking to the hull like it was made of glue.
He didn't let go of me, on account of all my suit problems.

“We've
got to stop making this a habit," I laughed.

“What
the hell are you two talking about?" Gretho suddenly piped in.

I
could feel the ship humming as the cannons charged and I saw the
ship's single engine slapped onto its butt. There were no words
needed.

Dondrae
stomped along the roof of the ship towards the engine, carrying me in
his arms. I wanted to say something to him, just in case this was our
last moment together, but held off in case Gretho caught on.

That
and I knew, I just knew that we'd be okay.

Another
laser blast shot out of the ship. Dondrae shook a bit, but kept me
held. We were now just over the engine exhaust and the suit was
beginning to get hot. I felt the magnetic bottom of the bomb and
tossed it down, it landed with a click just on the rim of the exhaust
and began counting down.

“Hey
asswipe!" I yelled on the comms. “You lose!"

Dondrae
shut off his boots and kicked us off. Seconds later, the bomb
detonated silently, the shockwave sending us hurtling in space,
spinning wildly. I saw the Agent's ship and it was just as
helplessly spinning as us, its exhaust having splintered into
thousands of pieces of scrap metal.

Gretho
did not say another word on the comms and neither did anyone else
from our ship.

We
were soon alone.

“Pawel?"

“Yeah?"

“Which
one's your home?"

The
stars were all around us. Unfamiliar and distant. Even the
constellations we saw from Planet were scattered. For all I knew,
Earth could be around one of the stars I was looking at, but really,
chances are it wasn't. Even if it was, we were gently spinning in
each other's arms and the stars were quickly out of sight.

“Dunno."

“Kinda
figured."

“You're
lucky. Sirius is bright, ain't it?"

“Yeah,
but I still couldn't say which one is it," Dondrae sighed, “could
be from Lupus instead. Hell, for all I know, I could have been one of
the Emperor's fucktoy that fell out of favor!"

“Ha
ha ha!" I laughed. There wasn't much else we could do now. “If
he won't take you back, there's space in my harem!"

“Deal!"

There
was silence, as quiet as space as we floated through the abyss. An
icon popped up in the upper right of my helmet, indicating that I was
running out of oxygen. The air had stared growing thin long before
this point and breathing was becoming an arduous task.

“I'm
sorry," I said.

“For
what?"

“I
didn't expect it to end this way."

“You
promised that we'd get off Planet and we did!" Dondrae cheerily
replied. “And I got someone to love on top of that! Why would I be
upset?"

There
was another pause.

“Okay,
I'm a little scared! Not gonna lie!" Dondrae laughed nervously.
“Didn't want to meet the God Alpha this way!"

“Think
there's room in Lupiad Heaven for me?"

“I'll
hold you tight so you come with me."

“Deal!"

The
oxygen icon was beginning to blink faster and a high-pitched whine
rang out.

“I
don't want to die without kissing you one last time," I said.

“I'm
about out of oxygen."

“Me
too."

Dondrae
inhaled deeply, “I'm going to take my helmet off in a second."

I
swallowed.

“And
we're going to give the galaxy the best kiss it's ever seen."

“I'm
ready."

“Okay,"
Dondrae paused, “and Pawel? I lo-"

Something
crackled in the background of the comms, just faint enough to
discern.

“Did
you hear that?" I asked.

“Yeah,"
Dondrae wheezed, “what is that?"

I
began tuning the frequency in an attempt to clear up the static.
There was a voice buried within the static and it was only now that
it became audible.

“...This
is Ground Control to Major Tom..."

It
was in English, sort of. The best way I could describe it was a
screechy fox attempting to sing in English. There were consonants
missing and it was terribly off-key, but I knew immediately who it
was.

“This
is Major Tom to Ground Control!" I replied with a weak laugh. “And
I'm floating in a most peculiar way!"

“Pawel!"
Aldor cried out on the comms. “He's alive!"

“Pawel!"
Yaleen joined in. “We're not far, turn on your beacon!"

Dondrae
beat me to the punch, pressing buttons on both of our suits that
caused a bright light to flash on our shoulders.

“Two
beacons found! We'll be there soon, hang on!" Aldor exclaimed.

Dondrae
and I laid there in the void, taking shallow breaths and not daring
to utter a word. We had said everything we needed to say and there
was no need for a kiss for the ages. We knew everything would be
okay.

Space
was so silent that we didn't even notice the shuttle until it was
passing over our heads. The airlock doors were open and my hero
activated the thrusters, sending us hurtling towards them. We crashed
into the inner airlock and Dondrae wasted no time slapping the button
to seal the outer door. Cold air hissed and I breathed, well and
truly breathed for the first time in ages, something I thought I'd
never do again.

We
yanked off our helmets and I bid adieu to my brief experience with
having a muzzle. Dondrae shoved me up against the wall and forcefully
pressed his snout against my face, licking at my lips. When he slowed
down, I puckered up my lips and kissed him, forcing my tongue past
his thin lips and into his mouth.

The
passion was short-lived, however. We had unfinished business to
attend.

“Rashar!"
I shouted as I floated through the ship, hand brushing up against the
pistol holstered in my suit pocket.

The
Regulian was waiting there, just behind the two Vulpies at the
cockpit. He wasn't wearing either his suit helmet or his gas mask,
but still had his spacesuit on.

“You
threw me out there to die!" I yelled.

Rashar
drew his pistol and aimed it at me. I drew my own pistol, matching
his gaze, “If I hadn't done that, we'd be all dead! If it
weren't for me, none of you all would have gotten off Planet!"

“Doesn't
give you the right! Doesn't give you the fucking right!"

“I
got the tracker off as well," Rashar said snidely, “you're
welcome, you fucking ingrate!"

“Pawel,"
Yaleen whispered, swinging off her chair and hugging Rashar from
behind, “put the gun down."

“Princess!"

“Rashar
is right," Yaleen said, shrugging her shoulders, “after
everything we've been through, you know this."

“He
just about killed him!" Dondrae snarled.

“And
he's alive, so stop whining, put the gun down, and act like an
adult."

Frustrated
that even Yaleen had abandoned me, I lowered my gun. Rashar, for his
part, did the same.

“Thank
you, Pawel. And my Prince," Yaleen swung around Rashar and pressed
her black nose up against his pink nose, rubbing it sensually, “thank
you for everything."

Three
quick thuds echoed through the ship. Yaleen pulled her needler away
from Rashar's chest, revealing three needles sticking out of his
suit. Rashar's pistol slowly floated away from his paw and his face
was frozen in shock.

“He's
right," Yaleen muttered as she grabbed Rashar by the shoulder and
kicked him across the ship. Dondrae and I stepped aside, just as
Rashar's head clanked against the far wall as he came to a halt,
“we wouldn't have survived without him."

Yaleen
launched herself across the ship, slamming into Rashar just as he
pulled one of the darts out of his chest, letting a series of small
bubbles of blood float into the air. She gave Rashar one last toss
into the airlock and sealed it shut.

“Aldor,
now!" she barked.

Aldor
pressed a button and the hiss of air on the other side of the airlock
was all we needed to hear.

“He
was right," Yaleen repeated, panting as her tongue lolled out of
her mouth, “but he's still an asshole."

Dondrae
was also panting, leaning up against the wall with his paw, “What
the fuck, Princess!?"

“Don't
feel bad, I was planning on killing him long, long before I even met
either of you," she huffed, “you two, on the other hand, are
loose-ends I don't mind having lying around."

“That's
a little fucked up!" I shot in. I wanted Rashar dead, I didn't
feel good about it but I still wanted it, but spacing him was
something I didn't wish on anyone.

“Well,
are you going to go rescue him then? Probably has a good half minute
left with that puncture wound!" Yaleen snarked. “Really, I don't
understand why you have trouble accepting my gestures of friendship!"

“Sparing
someone counts as friendship?" Dondrae asked.

Aldor
interjected, “For Vulpeculan nobility, yes!"

“Pawel,
this was necessary to keep us safe. Rashar was seeking far more from
me than he could ever hope to maintain. He viewed himself as more
than a Prince-Consort and as the Prince-Sovereign of my Principality.
He also had all the information he needed to turn us in when he
realized that he was the former, not the latter."

I
sighed.

“You
don't like it and that's fine. I would love for both of you to
join us on Beta Vulpeculae, but if you want to go your separate ways,
we can split at a station," Yaleen whispered, “and if you do, I
just want to say that I appreciate everything you've done for us."

Yaleen
floated away and took her place back by Aldor's side.

Sighing,
I spoke, “I'll have to think about it. We'll have to."

Everyone
was asleep. Yaleen and Aldor were platonically curled up in
eachother's arms by the cockpit, the ship running on auto-pilot.
Dondrae was leaning his head against the back of one of the seats,
not realizing that I was no longer there for him to rest on.

I
was standing by the airlock and holding the medical bag with my hand
in its pocket. Rubbing the two vials between my fingers.

This
was it. It was time to get rid of them for good.

I
pulled out mine, seeing the blank piece of tape pasted over my true
name. I had no hesitations at all, no curiosity anymore. Even if it
wouldn't cause my brain to melt, I wouldn't have pulled the tape
away. I knew who I was and so I let the vial gently float into the
airlock.

Dondrae's
vial slipped out of the bag.

It
came out the wrong way, it was impossible not to have a quick peek.
That's what I told myself, but the truth was that curiosity got the
better of me. I should not have looked, but I did, and what I saw
caused me to tremble:

Prince
Dondio. Pretender to the Lupiad-Sirian Empire.