The sound of a (very) dim neon light.

Nothing else ... but his ragged breathing.

A small creek of blood ran from an ear ... his ear. Right ear. A sad sniff ... a weak sniff-twitch. His paws and foot-paws ... bound. By a wiry rope that nearly cut off his circulation. Nearly. But didn't.

The mouse was bare, on his side, shivering ... the delicate, exposed flesh of his tail, his mouse-hood ... and his inner ears ... turning a slight purplish-blue. Oh, so cold ... so cold ... and in so much pain. His tail was stretched as far as it could go ... the tip of it trapped in a vice-like object.

A sniffle ... whiskers drooped. Eyes half-open, and ... more than a little delirious. His mind in a haze, but ... conscious enough. Too conscious of this.

Make it stop ... make it stop ...

A lump in his throat. Eyes welling. And he closed them (to stop the icy feeling ... that icy burning feeling).

Thoughts of Adelaide ... images of pink. Of wings. Fangs. Her strong, feminine grace. Her warmth. Her fur. The sound of her. Her mind wrapped round his (just like those wings). The sweet pink of her eyes. Just ... her love. She WAS, to him, love. She ...

... was so far away.

A shaky sob. He whimpered her name. Convincing himself she would (somehow) hear it. Again ... again ... and trailing. He started calling for Pyro. For Assumpta. Pleading, "Help me ... "

The chill in the cell seemed to grow. Suddenly.

His tail-base was incredibly sore. His mind was in flight-or-fight stage. Almost entirely in flight. Oh, survival instinct ... telling him to gnaw his tail off. To stop the pain. But he couldn't reach his tail ... telling him to burrow. To burrow down. But there were no sheets, no pillows, no other furs. Nothing to burrow into ...

No hiding place.

The hearing was draining from his ear ... along with the blood. His mousey nipples hard (from the cold), and ...

... thought of death.

The pain ...

He opened his muzzle. Coughed. And coughed. His tongue tasted something bitter. Was it the air? Or was there blood in his muzzle, too?

Heart straining ... beat-beat ... beat-beat ...

So weak. Consciousness starting to ebb.

How long had he been here?

What ... why ...

He opened his muzzle again, and with labored whispered ... " ... I ... I ... should I die," he stammered, forcing the words out. Even though it hurt to speak. Forcing the prayer. " ... b-before I ... w-wake." His throat. His eyes. Oh, they hurt. "I pray ... the Lord ... " A breath. "My s-soul to ... t-take." A sharp breath. A squeak of sharp pain (coming from his chest). And he repeated the phrase. "S-should I ... die ... " But didn't make it this time. Broke down. "Adelaide," he cried, nose running now.

No answer.

"Adelaide ... " He coughed, gasping for air.

Breathe ...

Breathe ...

Pray ...

He started up again, feeling weaker. "Should I ... die," he repeated, "before I wake ... " For he was going to lose consciousness. He felt it. He was ... it was only a matter of time, and ... the tears matted his cheek-fur. Along with his blood. And he switched his words. "Dear God," he whispered. "Please ... I need ... " Suddenly stopping. A chill. A spindly leg pressing down on the side of his head. Pressing.

Field squealed and squeaked in pure prey-like terror, writhing like an animal in a trap (which, for all intents and purposes, he was). His heart shot to a dangerous rate, and ...

... the pressure eased up (but the leg remained, poised to crush down on him).

He hadn't known the wasps were still in here. How long had they been in here ... he thought they'd gone away ...

"You are weak," said a dry, raspy voice. Full of arid scrutiny. "We do not assimilate the weak. We let them perish."

Teardrops quietly fell ... inches ... from his cheeks to the floor. He shivered. Quivering. Assumpta had advised him to grow faster than his fears. To adapt. But it was impossible to grow faster than THIS ... this twisted display of predator vs. prey.

I'm the prey ... he's the predator. What can I do ...

"However, you cannot die," the wasp decided, "until we know ... what you know. Your ship. Your purpose here. Everything."

"I ... I ... "

"Told us lies. Tell us ... " The spindly leg pressed down on the mouse's head ... " ... again. Everything." Pause. "I am Silik. I speak for the wasps. And my voice, mouse," he promised, "will be the last thing you ever hear. And how long you remain awake and in pain ... is up to you." A dangerous buzz. "Comply."



Adelaide was on her side, on the couch ... in Wren's ready room. In an almost fetal-like position. Her head in Rella's lap.

The squirrel stroked the bat's neck. Scritched behind her ears.

The bat, upon hearing the news that Field had been ‘mouse-napped' by the wasps (of all creatures) ... she had gone a pale pink (seemingly ... the actual color of her fur hadn't changed, but ... from the look in her eyes, one could imagine that being the case). Rella had quickly gone to her, insisting she come lie down in the ready room here ...

Rella's paw slowly moved up and down Adelaide's soft neck. "He'll be okay ... "

Adelaide nodded. Very weakly. "I should've gone down ... instead. I should've insisted. I ... "

"It's not your fault."

"I ... I should've ... " She went quiet. "I usually don't go to pieces." She closed her eyes. "I'm the strong one, you know? I ... "

"Hey," Rella whispered. "If you need to cry ... then do it."

She stared, unblinking at the wall. Sniffling. But not crying ... holding it back.

The doors swished open.

Wren padded in, pausing. The doors shutting behind him. And he looked down, and then ... to Adelaide. Who weakly met his eyes.

"Yeah?" Rella asked (quietly).

"Just checking," Wren said, "on how you ... how she," he said, of Adelaide, "is doing."

"I want to go down there," the bat said, trying to sit up (but Rella kept her at a lie-down ... kept stroking her neck and ears, trying to soothe her). "Let me go."

"You're not going down there. That would be suicide," Wren replied, sitting on his desktop. A leaning sit, with foot-paws still on the floor.

"But we've got ... "

"They're already down there. They know the situation. They're ... going to rescue him. Alright?"

A quiet nod. Eyes distant (glazed over).

It almost unnerved Wren ... to see Adelaide like this. She was always, without fail, so bright. Full of verve. So strong. So in control. Maybe it was her batty nature, or ... but he'd never, in the year or so that he'd known her now ... he'd never seen her looking THIS vulnerable. THIS despondent. And it scared him ... for her pink, toothy smile, and the confidence of her words ... they were daily constants on this ship. Really, she was the most stable of all of them.

But not right now.

Now, she was curled up on the couch, head in Rella's lap ... staring at the wall. Now, her energy was gone.

"Adelaide," began Wren, swallowing, clearing his throat.

"I don't blame you," she said, reading his mind. Knowing what he was gonna say ... before he said it. "I don't blame you. He's the first officer on this ship, and I was needed here ... it was a logical order."

"This isn't about logic."

"No," Adelaide agreed. "But it's not about ... fault, or risk. Things happen. Things happen," she stressed, "for a reason. We had no way of knowing the wasps were down there. They are. They have Field, and ... I pray that ... it's part of God's plan to let him live. If his time is up, then ... " Her voice cracked. She swallowed. "I have faith that ... that ... he'll come back to me."

Wren's eyes darted. He couldn't look the bat in the eyes. Why couldn't he look her in the eyes? Was it because he did, indeed, feel guilty ... for ordering Field to go down there (even after both Adelaide and Field had, in their own ways, objected to his decision ... when he'd first made it ... even though Field hadn't been on a true away mission in months). But there had been no way of knowing, as Adelaide just said, of the danger ... an abandoned building on an uninhabited world? And he was accompanied by three capable furs ... it ... there was no way they could've known ... but he felt guilty, all the same.

He had, perhaps, sent Field into a trap ... into certain death.

He loved Field. Had ... loved him. They weren't as close, obviously, as they had been back in school (and, even then, nothing ... had resulted of their relationship ... it had never been physically consummated, or even categorized ... it had just ... silently been). But Field was his friend. His first officer. And ...

"He won't blame you, either," Adelaide whispered. Belaying the squirrel's biggest fear. "You won't lose his affection."

Wren drew in a breath. Nodded. Again, feeling awkward ... Adelaide knew, because of her telepathy, all about his past. Field's past. He and Field were just friends now, of course. But ... they had a history. A shared, traumatic history ... of emotional loss. Of emotional confusion. And the bat knew all of it. The bat knew everything.

It made Wren feel very vulnerable ... as vulnerable as Adelaide was looking now. The squirrel wondered if the bat's emotional control, because of her frame of mind, was slipping. And she was radiating her feelings onto everyone in the room. Or maybe such a notion was simply Wren trying to find an excuse for ... why he felt so miserable.

"We all care about Field," Rella whispered, eyes moving about. "All in different ways. We don't want to lose him. There's nothing wrong ... with being scared."

"It's not the fear," Adelaide whispered, "that's got me ... on this couch."

Wren looked to her.

And Rella asked her, "Then what ... "

"The helplessness." A breath. "I'm his caretaker. I'm his mate ... I'm ... I've ... it's my job to nurture him. To care for him. To soothe him. It's my ... role," she whispered. "And, now, I can't do any of that. I can't do anything. I can only stay up here and ... imagine a hundred different scenarios. I can only ... wait."

"This is ridiculous ... you don't have to justify why you're feeling bad," Rella assured. "Stop it ... just ... you don't have to justify yourself, Adelaide. Your mate's in trouble. Let yourself cry, or ... feel sad. Don't defer it!"

The bat's eyes watered. "I'm ... I'm ... not," she insisted. "I'm ... " The tears streamed down her pink cheeks, and she chittered so weakly, so ... with such frailty. Chittering ... as she cried.

Rella's own eyes watered. "Oh ... we'll get him back, girl ... " She looked up to Wren, own eyes watering. Brow raising. A silent "out" command.

Wren nodded. Mouthing, "I'll be on the bridge. I'll tell you if ... " He stopped mouthing the words, and ... went back for the door. And left.

Leaving his mate to comfort Field's mate ...

Their futures (as always) in the paws of Fate.



They found a secondary entrance. It had taken nearly forty minutes, but ... they found one. And they made it in.

Assumpta took the point.

"This building's like a maze," Pyro remarked. Frustration growing.

"Fortunately for us, every maze can be solved," Assumpta remarked, padding into the dim, blue-like light. Padding forward. "But we must hurry. We took too long getting in ... "

"Field could be dead," Dotna whispered (for such a thought ... could only be whispered; if it was spoken at full voice ... maybe it would come true ... if it hadn't already).

"We must find the wasps' transporter node. And destroy it."

"Transporter node?" asked Pyro, in the middle of the group. Eyes shifting about. The wasps didn't give off traditional body heat. And they were amazingly slippery ... to all sensors. AND senses. But they were clumsy on their spindly legs. They best moved by flight. And their wings made an unmistakable raspy noise. If nothing else, he should be able to hear them coming ... but, then, he hadn't the first time. But they'd been behind a door ... but ...

... too much second-guessing!

Should've, could've ... would've.

They couldn't dwell on why this had happened. On how they'd walked into this trap. If it was a trap. No, they just needed to get Field and ... get out of here.

They needed to fix this. Now.

"The transporter node should control their flash device. Destroy the node ... and we destroy their capacity to use the transporter. Else, once we rescue Field, they can just transport in and wrest him back. Or wrest one of us ... in exchange."

"Does this node give off a signature?"

"Yes ... " Beep-be-beep ... went her scanner. "Two corridors over. Five doors down."

"Surely, it's guarded."

Assumpta raised her head. Icy-blue eyes ... matching the light. She looked glorious. Her predatory cool. Her feline grace. Pyro, for a few seconds, found himself staring ... before he looked away. Scanning their environment. While Assumpta said, "We met no resistance when we first arrived. Nor when we reentered the structure." A pause. Looking around. "It is my belief that there are only a paw-ful of wasps actually here ... and, presumably, they are clustered around Field. Or elsewhere. I cannot be certain. But there are no signs that the wasps have an occupational force on this planet. We would've have gotten this far ... if they had superior numbers."

"Makes sense," Pyro whispered.

"We must deactivate the node, and then ... rescue Field."

"I say we rescue Field first," Dotna said, clutching at her phase rifle. Clutching it with such a grip that ... her paws hurt. "We don't know what state he could be in. If we wait even a few minutes, we might be too late."

"And if we don't destroy the node before we go after him ... the wasps will simply be able to flash him back into his cell. And US with him ... the node," Assumpta insisted, "comes first." They reached a bend in the corridor. She looked down the new hallway. "This way," she whispered, feline tail waving silkily behind her. She was several steps ahead of the other two.

Pyro found himself sidling next to Dotna (in an instinctual, protective way ... and to get any stray thoughts, if there had even been any ... of Assumpta ... out of his head). And the wolf would've held to the chipmunk's paw (and so badly wanted to), but ... Dotna's grip was desperately fixated on her weapon. And her whiskers twitched with prey-like fear.

"It's okay," the wolf whispered to her ...

Dotna drew a shaky breath, and exhaled ... and could see her breath. It was so cold in this building, you could see your breath. It reminded of her of a snow rabbit habitat. "I'm sorry I barged into those rooms ... and let them out. I should've been more careful."

"The wasps were going to attack us ... whether or not you opened the door for them," Pyro assured. "None of this is your fault." He imagined, back on Luminous, Adelaide and Wren were playing similar blame games ...

Everyone blaming themselves for Field's capture.

The only one NOT blaming himself ... was probably Field. Who probably didn't care. Who probably just wanted, more than anything, so see a furry face ... to be drawn back to safety. Pyro couldn't imagine ... for he, himself, had been a prisoner of the wasps. Upon fleeing the out-of-control mirror Luminous. Upon mirror Luminous' ultimate (fiery) destruction ... he had been captured, in an escape pod ... by the wasps. Who had brought him back to this universe. As a prisoner. Intending to assimilate him (and viewing him as quite a prize ... what with his red, versatile eyes, and his powerful nose). And he'd stayed alive by lying to them. Telling them he knew of the humans' whereabouts, but ... he'd tricked them into bringing him to the snow rabbit sector. To this Luminous. But ... they had done things to him along the way ...

Pyro knew what wasps could do. More than anyone. And that was why, perhaps, he was more scared for Field ... than anyone else was. For it wasn't left to his imagination ... about Field's condition right now. Know, he KNEW ... he knew ... and he knew mice were resilient. That they were stronger than they looked. But ...

Knowing them as he did, Pyro should've anticipated ... something. Something. Anything. Even know, he should be knowing their possible strategies. But he couldn't think. His mind was frozen. By this damn cold. By his fear that ... Dotna would be hurt. By Assumpta's cool confidence. His worry for Field, his friend ...

All of it.

He couldn't think!

"We're here," Assumpta whispered, pausing. In front of a sturdy door. Bigger than the other doors they'd seen.

"Let me wield the weapon," Pyro insisted ... to Dotna. "Please ... "

"I'm a trained tactical officer, and ... "

" ... I won't let you get killed," Pyro blurted out. No ... no, he wouldn't. Not like all his friends on mirror Luminous had been killed (his few friends ... most of those furs had been evil, and ... ) ... but loss ... so much loss.

"And I won't let you get killed, either," Dotna shot back, ferocity appearing in her eyes. "I'm not helpless."

"And I wouldn't be a good mate if I let you barge in there ... "

"Give me the weapon," Assumpta interrupted. "I will wield it. Give it ... now," she said. "That is an order."

"You can't order us around," Dotna said (almost stubbornly ... her whiskers twitching, and her tail twitching like a brushy wire). "We're all the same rank."

"I will fight you," Assumpta assured, "for the rifle. And you will lose. Give it."

Dotna blinked, a bit taken aback by ... the snow leopard's bluntness. Now, granted, Assumpta was ALWAYS blunt, but ... the chipmunk quietly handed over the rifle. Not knowing if Assumpta's threat had been TRUE, or ... just a tactic to get her to cooperate. Probably the latter. She was a feline, after all. She was very intelligent. She was a predator, and she knew how to coax prey into ... playing along.

Odd, that ... to think of Assumpta as a predator. She was, wasn't she? But, for some reason, Dotna never thought about it. Never looked at Assumpta and thought ‘predator' ... no, she was a friend. A fellow officer. A fur. One of the crew. She'd become so much more than ... ‘that icy predator' ... she'd come such a long way since Luminous had launched. And here the feline was, hell-bent on finding Field. So focused. So steely. The only one who wasn't panicking. The only one who wasn't succumbing to fear ...

... but she had to feel it. She had to feel the fear. It had to be there.

But it didn't show on her muzzle.

Dotna handed the weapon over.

Assumpta nodded. "Thank you," she said, and ... turned back to the door. Tapped at the door-pad.

Nothing.

"Maybe we can pry it open," said Pyro.

"That will not be necessary." The snow leopard stepped back ... aimed the rifle. Fired.

CHOOM ... CHOOM ...

Spark!

The door circuits sizzled, and the door ... clunked open. Clunk-clunk ... swish! Finally retracting (fully) into the walls.

Assumpta padded forward.

The other two followed, side-by-side.

And the feline's eyes widened.

"What is that?" Dotna whispered, own eyes ... doing the same. Widening. Reflecting the eerie glow that was before them.

"I do not know," Assumpta whispered, stepping forward. Forward. Pausing. Holding the rifle with one paw. A scanner with the other. "It is giving off ... no energy, and yet ... amazing amounts of energy," she said, "at the same time. As if it's in a state of flux."

"Are you saying it's there and NOT there," Pyro asked, "at the same time?"

"What is it?" Dotna asked again.

Assumpta took another step forward. A gateway in the wall. An stone-like arch, and ... it was a threshold. And in the middle of it ... where there SHOULD be a wall ... was a vista. Of another place. Another world. And that view changed every few seconds. Flashing, flashing, showing alien worlds, showing oceans. Cities.

Pyro blinked.

"What do your eyes see?" his mate asked.

"The images in the gateway. They shimmer," he said. "But I can't see beyond them ... there's now all behind the images ... it's like ... "

" ... a wormhole in a wall," Assumpta decreed, closing her scanner. "An instantaneous portal to anywhere in the galaxy. Judging by the controls, it ... any destination can be searched for and programmed, and ... it's a portal."

"It's giving off no heat waves ... but it's glowing. It's glowing," Pyro said.

"I suspect it was built by ancient paws. Thousands of years ago ... judging by the age of the stone." Her eyes reflected the light of the images ... the vistas ... flashing in the portal.

"That's why the wasps are here," Dotna realized. "They must've discovered it."

"If the wasps have access to a device like this, they can ... "

" ... transport armies of shock troops ... anywhere. Right onto our bridge, even. From countless light years away. It would be an unbelievable tactical advantage. It would render them unstoppable."

"That's why they're here," Dotna repeated. "The wasps ... must've found it, but ... they only have a scouting party here, right? Only a paw-ful of wasps. They must've discovered it recently. Their reinforcements haven't yet arrived," the chipmunk guessed, "to secure the location. And when they saw us, they feared that ... we'd discovered it to. So, they took Field ... whom they guessed would be the easiest to break and control, and ... they're trying to ascertain what we're doing here."

"Then we have to destroy this building. And that portal," Pyro said, "with it. Then the wasps will have no reason to come here, and ... then we can have the planet to ourselves. And settle. I mean, we have, like, four days of power left ... we're STUCK here. It's us or the wasps. We destroy that portal, and they wasps don't come."

"The wasps may very well come ... even if there is no portal," said Assumpta. "They are aware of you," she said (to Pyro). "You escaped from them. And you are aboard Luminous, and Luminous is an advanced vessel. No, we are targets. However, you are right. Destroying this portal ... lessens the chances of the wasps coming here en masse." And Assumpta paused to breathe. "And we cannot let them have this ... this, to them, is a weapon."

"Then we ... we set charges, or fire torpedoes, or ... "

"Charges will not destroy this arch. It is made of ... highly durable materials. Torpedoes would only weaken. And may be shot down by the wasps before they reached the ground. The wasps came here in some kind of vessel, I'm assuming ... "

"So, what do we do?" Dotna asked.

"A tri-cobalt device would weaken the wormhole's integrity. A second charge would collapse it entirely."

"We have ... forty-seven torpedoes left," Dotna said, remembering the weapons inventory. She was, after all, stationed to the armory. "And five tri-cobalt devices."

"Then we have enough." Assumpta looked to the other two. "As soon as we are out of here, we will fire ... however, as I said, the wasps may pick off the charges before they hit the ground. It would be best if we loaded them onto a shuttle-pod, and used a remote control to pilot the pod, at a low, angling trajectory, straight into the building. We would lose a pod," she said. Luminous had four shuttle-pods. "However, we would succeed."

"This is insane," Dotna whispered.

Pyro rubbed his forehead. Feeling a sudden pain ... like a headache pang. He rubbed his red, red eyes.

Assumpta looked around. The rest of the room contained lots of ... displays. Items covered in dusty, icy glass. Items in the open. And the feline whispered, slitted eyes narrowing, "I believe this was intended to be a museum ... "

"Then what happened to the curators?" Pyro posed.

"I don't wanna know," Dotna said. "I want out of here ... "

Pyro winced. The pain in his head ... sharper, this time. Worse. More focused. What the hell ...

Assumpta noticed, and ... felt a pang herself. Gave a low growl.

"What?" Dotna asked, looking from one to the other. Whiskers twitching.

"I believe the arch is giving off ... some kind of temporal radiation. It is affecting us."

"I don't feel anything."

"You are prey."

"So am I," Pyro defended.

"Not physically, you aren't," Assumpta told him. "Mentally ... you are what you wish." She wasn't going to argue the point. She had assured Pyro that his predatory instincts were there. They had just been trodden into the ground by a universe that was in disarray. A universe where the prey became the predators, and the predators ... became the prey. But the feline had assured Pyro that, no matter the psychological and social structures of his universe of origin ... he had the body of a predator, and therefore ... the instincts of a predator.

And they had, indeed, risen to the fore ... a week ago. When Pyro had attacked a bat who'd been molesting Dotna. Had drawn blood. And ...

"Well, let's get out of here, then," Dotna said, seeing that the other two were losing focus. "We came here to find Field!"

"We came here to destroy the transporter node," Assumpta reminded, turning. "It is in this room." She swallowed, walking about, rifle in both paws. And, finding the node, she aimed ... and fired.

A sizzle. A drain of energy.

"Their flash device has been rendered useless."

"You think they know? You think it's tipped them off ... "

"They're very aware," Pyro said, rubbing his forehead ... " ... mm ... they know we're back in the building by now."

"Let's go get Field," Dotna said again. Her training telling her ... to get on with the mission. That there was no time. First rule in a hostage situation: time was of the essence. You couldn't rush your move, but you couldn't hesitate to move, either. It was like a chess game. And she'd never played chess, but ... she supposed it was ... it was like some kind of game. A dangerous one. But she'd wanted to be a tactical officer. She'd wanted to protect others and help keep order. Keep furs safe. It made her feel good. Made her feel like she was doing something important ...

Assumpta eyed one of the museum pieces. A bladed weapon. Curved at the back. She squinted. "This appears to be ... ancient," she said, "as well. The description reads," she said, using her scanner to decipher the alien language, "it is a ... bat'leth. A warrior's sword." She removed it from its casing. Held the grip of it ... in her paws. The weight of it. "I am only borrowing it," she assured, looking up.

Pyro smiled a bit. "Uh-huh ... "

"Can I have my rifle back?" Dotna asked.

Assumpta gave it over ... holding the alien blade. And still holding the scanner in her free paw.

And they left the room ...

... exploring more corridors. More. More ...

Thinking they were finding Field. But only following shadows on the sensors, and ...

... until, after fifteen more minutes, they found where he was being held. And they hid round the corner, out of view. Holding a whispered conversation.

"There are five wasps," Assumpta said, voice barely audible. "One of them just left Field's cell ... all of them are now lingering around the exterior."

"They know we're coming for him," Pyro realized. "They'll be ready."

"That is irrelevant. They may be ready, but ... we are fighting for a righteous cause, are we not?" the feline asked. "Am I correct in assuming that wasps do not believe ... in souls?"

"No ... they're very scientific."

"Then they do not believe in the power of ... emotion."

"What are you getting at?"

"Our enemy is heartless. You cannot win a fight," Assumpta assured, "if you have no heart."

Pyro was quiet for a moment. "Didn't think predators took the heart," he said, "so seriously."

"Then perhaps you should challenge your assumptions." She tilted her head.

Pyro had to smile. And he ... looked to Dotna. Whispering, "You okay?"

"Yeah," she whispered. She was more nervous than the both of them. Being a chipmunk. Her paws were shaking, but she (still) clutched her weapon ‘til her paws hurt.

Pyro reached out a paw ... and put it on her arm. And wanted to nuzzle her, but ... held back. For Assumpta was eying them (with that serene ice-queen expression). But Pyro pushed all hesitations aside ... and put his nose to Dotna's cheek. Breathed in. And exhaled. And moved to kiss her lips. A brief, fleeting kiss, but ... enough to communicate his love. Enough to ease her fears. Enough to ... anchor them.

Assumpta waited until they were done, and gave a slight head-tilt, saying, "We should attack. Field's health may be waning. The sooner, the ... "

" ... better," Pyro finished. Nodding.

"On the count of three," Dotna suggested. Raising a paw, and starting a silent count. One, two, and ...

... the three furs spun around the corner.

Dotna aimed. Fired.

CHOOM ... CHOOM ...

A wasp shrieked, buzzing horribly. Raspy, paper-like buzzes ... audible paper cuts. It hurt to hear.

CHOOM ...

One down. One wasp down, and the others were flying toward them ...

Assumpta bared her teeth, hissing, and ... spun! Swung! Her new bladed weapon making a ZING ... through the air, and ... slicing off a wing. A spindly leg. And her strong, clawed paw ... batted the wasp aside.

Two down ... and ...

... three. Pyro punched a compound eye. It shattered (a sickening sight and sound), and the wasp buzzed, stumbling back. Falling.

CHOOM ...

A stinger ... pumping ...

... and missing Dotna's shoulder blade.

Pyro, eyes glowing with a red madness, nose full of the scent of sweat, of pumping blood, of ... venom. He bared his teeth, too, and ... lashed out. Ripped a wing off a wasp, almost wrestling the creature away from his mate's position.

Dotna aimed at the creature ... who was batting at Pyro with pointed legs, who was trying to close his mandibles on Pyro's ear, and ...

... CHOOM!

The wasp fell limp, and ... Pyro pushed it off, panting, heart spiking (with sudden, brought-down-to-earth fear). He glanced at Dotna.

She gave him a slight smile ...

... as Assumpta finished off the final wasp, who ... stuttered, stammered. Sputtered. And fell, heaving. But still alive.

The snow leopard, white and pure, breasts heaving beneath her uniform, pushed the blade of her bat'leth to the wasp's neck. And was going to outright kill him. But hesitated. She had told Field that she did not enjoy killing. It did not agree with her. And it did not. Oh, it was easy enough to become caught in the predatory blood rush. Caught in the moment. After all, it was her nature. But ... the ACT of killing, and the aftermath of it ... did not sit well with her soul. She would kill in defense of herself and others, but ... this wasp was injured. Defeated. She could not bring herself to finish the job ... he would die from his wounds. She was not going to ... finish ... and she pulled her blade back, swallowing, breath shaking. She stepped back, scanning the room. Full of swirling dust and ... dead wasps. And three sweaty, blood-splattered furs.

Dotna looked, suddenly, like she was going to get sick.

Pyro looked to be in a state of confusion ...

Assumpta went for the door to the cell.

"You ... you," sputtered the wasp she'd spared. "You will be ... assimilated. You are worthy," he said to her, "of assimilation. The mouse was not."

She slowly turned, squinting. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing ... he didn't deserve," the wasp said coldly. Evilly.

Assumpta stepped back toward the wasp (it was Silik) ... and put her blade back on his neck.

"Go ahead," the wasp taunted. "Don't ignore your instincts ... do it!" he rasped. "You know you ... want to ... kill me ... "

Assumpta, again, withdrew her weapon. And stepped back. "Perhaps, once, I would've been baited by you. But not now ... not ever," she said, eying him with a cool pity. "We are going to destroy the gateway," she told him. "And we will claim this planet," she declared, "as our own."

"You are fools," the wasp spat, starting to bleed dry ...

Assumpta, again, went to the cell door, and insisted that Pyro and Dotna stay out here. Telling them to keep guard. But her real reason for wanting them out here ... was that she feared their emotional response ... once they saw Field. She could control her own emotional response. She could control it ... she could control ...

... her foot-paws, as they stepped inside. The air was frigid, and ... smelled of pain. She looked down. Her breath caught. She swallowed. And her eyes actually watered ... and she padded to the mouse, kneeling down. Eyes darting. She ... searched, and ... removed his tail from it's airborne vice, from its stretched-out trajectory. She removed the cuffs from his paws and foot-paws. And the snow leopard quietly slipped off her own winter protective gear. Her jacket, her paw-mittens ... and wrapped Field's bare, furry body ... in the clothing. It wasn't much. It didn't cover him, but ... perhaps it would provide some warmth. But it ...

... she drew him up against her own body. Up against her own body heat. And purred into his ears. Purred ... trying to comfort him. He was unconscious. But she still detected a beating heart. She still detected a pulse. His blood had not yet run cold.

No, he was alive ...

... oh, alive. He was alive.

Blood was caked all along one of his ears, and fresh blood ... still oozing out. What had they done to him?

She picked him up. She was a strong, graceful feline. He was wispy, slender mouse. She easily picked him up, an arm under his knees, and under his armpits ... and his head rolled to the side. His tail limp and nearly blue ... and only her discarded winter jacket covering his honey-tan, furry form.

She closed her eyes. And opened them. And left the cell, with Field in tow ...

Pyro's eyes, upon seeing them ... his eyes went dull.

Dotna gave a little gasp ...

"We must get back to the pod. And back to Luminous," said Assumpta, trying to keep her emotions from breaking through. Trying to remain strong. They all needed her to maintain a strong presence. They needed someone's resolve ... to cling to. She was the predator. It had to be hers. She could not show her fear ... or pain, or ... she had to keep herself from thawing. A fur of the ice, and ... a predator of the ice, no less ... were she to thaw ... her emotional flood from the resulting melting ... would be so, so violent. It would destroy her.

How she longed to feel as they did ... and, at the same time, how glad she was that she couldn't.

Pyro and Dotna weren't moving. And she sighed. "Now," she insisted. "Move."

They blinked and did so ...

... Assumpta no longer taking point. She felt too vulnerable to do so.



Six hours later, and Field was on a bio-bed in sickbay. Covered by a blanket. Still unconscious.

Denali came up beside Adelaide, who had been beside the mouse ... for hours. Had been probing his mind. Had been ... giving him good dreams. Every good dream she could give. Everything she could do. She had been doing it.

"Adelaide ... "

The bat sniffled, turning. Pink eyes ... a darker shade of pink. She had been crying. Denali had never seen her cry ...

"Um ... " The otter faltered.

"He's gonna be okay?" she asked.

"Yeah ... yeah, he'll be okay. He should wake up in a few hours, and ... be on his feet in the morning. I mean, he's recovering rather quickly. Mice are very resilient creatures. I mean, they heal more quickly than other furs ... " He trailed. Cleared his throat. "He got a little bit of ... hypothermia, but I've ... controlled that. And, uh ... he strained some tail muscles. I fixed those, too," he said. "I ran a suture device over his gashes and ... sowed them up. No scars or anything. Um ... but his ear," he said, hesitating.

The bat looked to him. Waiting.

"They burst his right eardrum, and ... I don't know what they did, but ... they messed up his ear pretty bad. It's ... I can insert a hearing chip into his ear canal, and can ... enhance his hearing back to a solid level, but ... he's never gonna have full hearing in that ear," the otter said. A pause. "I know how much mice pride themselves ... in their hearing. Their ears. Um ... "

Adelaide closed her eyes. Sniffling. And letting out a shaky breath. "I'm just ... it's okay. He's alive," she said, opening her eyes. She smiled. Tears running down her cheek-fur. Wetting her pink fur. Making it a darker shade of pink.

"Yeah ... " Denali nodded, and ... gave a smile back. An uncertain smile.

"An ear chip?" she asked.

"Yeah, it ... it should enhance his hearing back to ... seventy-five percent," he said, "in his right ear. So, I mean ... his left ear's still at a hundred percent. But that right ear ... will be a little less acute. But ... without the chip, it'll only be at fifteen ... so ... "

Adelaide nodded. "Put it in."

"Alright ... he won't feel it. I mean, it'll be small. It won't hurt him."

"I know. I trust you." She wrapped her wings around herself ... and looked down at her mate. Sending him more pleasant thoughts ...

"But he'll be awake in a while," Denali repeated. "And he can go back to your quarters in the morning. Alright? He's ... gonna be okay."

"Thank you," Adelaide whispered.

Denali flushed, and shrugged ... and felt he should give her a hug (cause she looked like she needed it), but ... he held back. And said, "Um ... I'm gonna go into my office. Leave you two alone," he whispered.

She sniffled and nodded ... filmy, elegant wings (and able arms) still wrapped around herself.

And Denali went ahead and leaned forward ... and hugged her.

And she, upon the contact, started to shake. Started to sob.

"Oh ... shh. Hey," whispered the otter, feeling a lump in his throat. "Hey, it's okay. He's gonna be okay ... "

"I know," she stuttered. "I know ... I just ... I don't know ... " A breath. "Seeing him so ... like this. It's ... I would do anything to take his pain away. I'm doing all I can, but ... I would do anything for him. I would give my life for him," she whispered. She'd never said that about anyone before. Had never said those words. And ... they came out. And they were utterly sincere.

Denali nodded and ... removed his arms. And ... said, again, "I'll be in my office, okay?"

"I'll be by his side. I'm staying here," she said, sniffling, wiping her eyes.

"Okay," the otter whispered, filtering away.

Leaving the bat to perch over the sleeping mouse. Leaving her to mentally heal him. Leaving her to squeeze his paw. He was here. As was she ... and his mind was starting to send abstract thoughts, little flashes of unconscious feeling ... back at her.

And Adelaide smiled, swallowing. Squeezing his paw. Raising her muzzle upward, closing eyes, and whispering to the heavens, "Thank you ... "



On the bridge, Wren and Rella were meeting with Assumpta, Pyro, and Dotna. Drawing up plans to destroy the gateway (and rid, once and for all, this planet of any wasp presence ... in theory).

It would take several hours to set the plan into motion (to arm the pods with the tri-cobalt devices, and the remote control sensors ... ) ... but this conflict would soon end.

Luminous had over three days of power left.

They needed to harvest resources from this planet. They needed to scout it, mine it ... land on it.

The wasps were in the way. And, though the away team had killed all the wasps believed to be present ... there could always be more. And, certainly, there were more coming ... regardless, the best bet was to hurry up and destroy the gateway. And hide behind the planet's moon, perhaps. So, when the eventual wasp fleet came to inspect it ... they would find nothing. And, hopefully, would leave ...

Regardless ...

It was either the wasps ... or it was them. Both parties could not control this valuable world. And the Luminous furs had no intention ... of it being the wasps.