A thousand groveling pardons for the lateness of this installment. Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans, after all. ^-.o^ It wasn't easy to write this, but I'm finally happy with how it came out. No yiff, but a lot of character development, heavy combat and some surprises. Enjoy! -- "Wasn't enough for you to shack up with that De'horourna'kir, was it, Aragones?" Spentz leaned over the desk, glaring at him. "No, once he's gone, you've got to bring a situation that makes that old problem look like a minor tiff right to my doorstep!" "Oh, come off it, Spentz." Kyle crossed his arms. "You act like I did this just to ruin your day. I was Vyarhi's only choice, the only Alliance citizen she could trust. Where else did you think she could go?" "Anywhere else besides here." Spentz stood, picking up a very thick folder. "I could throw the book at you, Aragones. You broke no less than half a dozen Rimworld Alliance regulations by parading a member of an alien government right under our noses! Throw on an extra five for bringing an armed Kryyjh vessel to this station unannounced, and I could have you in prison until you're old and gray." "As opposed to letting eighty-three innocent Kryyjh be dissected like labrats just because they can't have kids? Fuck that choice, Spentz. Lock me up and throw away the jail if that's what you want; I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat. Don't tell me you wouldn't." "What another interstellar government does, or does not, do to its citizens is not in my jurisdiction, Aragones. My concern is protecting the safety of this station and the Alliance citizens in its space, as well as upholding Rimworld Alliance law. You could have followed standard procedure for the acceptance of non-Alliance citizens into the RA refugee program." "Which would have had them sitting in their ship for months, if not years, during which at any time a single word from the Kryyjh government and the RA would hand them over without so much as blinking. Hell, they could come and blow that transport to Hell and no one would lift a finger to stop them!" "Don't lecture me on bureaucracy." Spentz threw the folder back onto the table. "You've placed this station in a very dangerous situation. I've received word that the Kryyjh goverment has made covert demands for the return of that ship and everyone aboard, but some of my own contacts say there's been absolutely not so much as an official peep out of them. The Peacekeepers aren't sending anything more than a token patrol out our way because they're afraid of showing an aggressive stance, but as far off the beaten path as we are, if the Kryyjh sent in a substantial force to push the matter, we'd be screwed." He sat back down. "You have put us in the crosshairs of a very powerful interstellar government that we barely understand, Aragones. Just because you wanted to play the hero." "If just doing the right thing makes somebody a hero these days, I've got to wonder whose government I worry about more." Kyle leaned back in the chair. "What have you done with the Kryyjh on that ship?" he demanded. "Where are you keeping them?" "Here, on the station. They're being afforded all the protection and rights the law provides political refugees. Apparently they've appointed Line-captain Syhassi as their liasion with us, even though most of the others outrank her in their military structure. She's been asking to see you." "Hmh. Well, even prisoners are afforded visitors, aren't they, Spentz? Or do you really think I'm a threat to station security?" "Don't push me, Aragones. You're lucky you're not wearing a prison jumpsuit right now. And as much pleasure as locking your sorry ass up would give me, I'm given enough room by the law to use my own discretion on this matter, and I've made the decision to cut you loose." Now there was a shock. "...wait- what?" Kyle stammered. "You heard me. The Kryyjh see you as something of a hero and have been calling for you to be freed. Keeping their goodwill and showing that Rimworld Alliance law is a world apart from the fascism they're used to is far more of a gain than throwing you in a cell would be. I'm also going to be releasing Line-captain Syhassi into your custody." "You are?" "Pending further decisions by the Alliance brass, I've been given the go-ahead to allow the Kryyjh to move about the station and sector, within strict security guidelines. The little group you spend your off-hours with has done a lot of vouching for Syhassi and volunteered to take on a number of the refugees, to give them hands-on experience with being a part of, and making a living in, the Alliance. Since the Line-captain has been asking about you so much I've decided that I'll just stick her with you to keep you both quiet." Spentz leaned over him, his eyes hard. "I'll be personally giving you the details of those security guidelines, Aragones. Screw this up and I'll ensure that you spend the rest of your life in a very small cell." "Right, I get you." Aragones stood, and Spentz let him out of the interrogation room. Outside the security office, the others were waiting for him; he could see Laou let out a sigh of relief at seeing him. "I was half-afraid you'd be in there for the rest of your life, precious," she said. "Literally." "Spentz is being atypically decent." He explained the Arc-Major's decision. "Good news indeed," Khamen said. "So our friend Vyarhi will once more be in your co-pilot seat, Kyle?" "I think that would be a very good place for me." Kyle looked up in surprise at the familiar serpentine form coming towards them. "Hello again, my friends," Vyarhi said. "I'm more glad to see you all than I can say." "As are we glad to see your safe return," Khamen said. Next to him, Laou whistled. "Damn," she murmured. "How'd you keep that figure so well hidden?" She looked the Kryyjh over with a grin. "Must've needed ten meters of duct tape!" The Line-captain laughed heartily at that, coming forward to embrace all of them warmly. "I'm truly sorry for the trouble I probably caused you all," she said quietly. "Never you mind about that." Trihsken took hold of the Kryyjh's hands. "It makes me sick to think of what your own government would have done to you and the Kryyjh you brought with you if you hadn't escaped. A little hassle from Spentz is a tiny price to pay to keep you from that." The serpent smiled at that. "One thing I've been meaning to ask," Kyle said. "I understand the desire for secrecy you had the first time you were here... but was it really necessary to give us a fake name?" He chuckled. "I still have to remind myself not to call you ‘Ashiya'." "Actually... I would much appreciate it if you still did." She looked a bit sheepish. " ‘Ashiya' was the first thing I could come up with when you asked me my name, Kyle. It's not a name, but rather a word in the Kryyjh language meaning ‘protected one'. It was a term of endearment given to me by someone I used to have feelings for... and as of right now, it holds more meaning coming from you five than my own name does."
"Alright then... Ashiya." Kyle gave her a smile. "I understand the other Kryyjh have been asking about jobs. Spentz told me some of these guys here have been making offers." He motioned to his friends. "That's right. The people I brought with me were very well-respected in their fields before they were discovered to be infertile. They don't want to just huddle in their quarters and wait for other people to decide their fate- they want to contribute, to feel useful." "Pah." Elmez'ki made a disgusted face. "Sorry state of affairs, that is. If fertility were a sign of being able to contribute to society, my parents would be chancellors right now." He chuckled. "I put in a request to Raorahn for any skilled energy-modulation technicians to look me up. Heard that the Kryyjh do interesting things with multiphasic sensor arrays... I can always use new ideas for my development projects." Ashiya laughed softly. "I'm sure there's someone who'll fit that bill for you. You might have guessed, though, that Kryyjh design and implementation tend to be rather militaristic in nature." The cetacean gave a four-armed shrug. "I deal with the Tirarnik on a regular basis. I'm used to that sort of working environment." "Yeah, if you can put up with their paperwork, you can handle anything." Laou grinned broadly. "Now, friends, I think it's time we went ahead and got some food. Spending half the day being questioned by station security builds up an appetite." She leaned on Ashiya lightly, giving the Kryyjh female a smile. "I special-ordered a nice big helping of Mif'laschkin for you, as well." "You can't imagine how much I've missed that food. Laou, you are my new hero." She gave Kyle a playful glance; he'd learned enough about Kryyjh expressions to see it. He winked at her in return. Next to him, Niyre laughed. "There's a tagline for you," the herbivore chortled. "Mif'laschkin- the official food of persecuted reptiles everywhere." "If the way our dear Ashiya here packs it away is any indication," Elmez'ki said with a quirk of his lips, "then our Kryyjh friends are going to make my investment in that food outlet pay quite handsomely." Ashiya leaned against the small cetacean. "I get half, right?" Their laughter echoed through the station halls as they made their way towards the food court. -- "So you say that the incidence of infertility in your species is rising? In both genders?" The Gez'byrin physician was so different than the one she'd had to deal with on Hunter's Respite that Ashiya just couldn't help but wonder how the two could even share the same job title. Of course, this reptile was a hermaphrodite, which made hir unique enough to Ashiya- but the slender, saurian ectotherm was also a thousand times more pleasant and personable than any Kryyjh doctor she'd had to deal with. "It seems so," Ashiya replied. "I never saw any official reports or the like, of course. But it was definitely being talked about in ‘unofficial channels'." "Hmm. Well, that certainly is unfortunate. It's a shame your government hasn't asked us for help- the Rimworld Alliance has made strides in solving this sort of problem for several species. Suns and moons, we've even done the reverse- the Kiknachiki were having a population explosion at one point, their females giving birth to eight or nine young at once. It took some doing to help our little cetacean friends acheive a more managable birthrate." So that explains the size of Elmez'ki's family. Well, in part, anyway. "I wouldn't hold my breath. My government has issues with asking anyone for help with anything." She sighed. "We've been ramming ourselves into the biomechs snout-first for decades without so much as asking the Alliance for a recipe for better rations. Believe me, we could use one." Shi chuckled at that. "Our rations suck eggs just as badly, I'd wager," shi grinned. "Well, we've had plenty of dealings with recalcitrant nations and interstellar governments. I can only hope yours pulls its snout from its vent sometime and goes about things more sensibly." The omnivorous reptile picked up a datapad and tapped on its screen a few times. "Looks like the computer has finally finished correlating your data with that of the other Kryyjh," shi said. "Interesting physiology you all have- true reptilian in almost every aspect but the mammaries and the metabolism." Shi smiled. "Must be handy generating your own body heat." "It's useful sometimes, yes," she laughed. "Though it can cause its own problems. I must have consumed fifty times my own mass in Mif'laschkin by now." "You too, hmm? I can't get enough of it. Neither of my mates can stand it, though... but that just means more for me." The physician smiled. "I can say, though, that your weight hasn't seemed to suffer much from it. In fact, aside from the high PH levels of your reproductive tract, and some leftover toxicity from whatever concoctions they had you taking for their ‘treatments', you're a perfectly healthy young female, with nothing to fear from any common bacteria or viruses you're likely to encounter in Rimworld Alliance space. I've got no reservations against clearing you for active employment and flight." Ashiya positively beamed at the Gez'byrin. "I appreciate that, Doctor," she said. "I've been itching to do anything remotely productive." "Well then, my fellow scaled one, have at it." Ashiya gathered up her things and turned towards the dressing room, then stopped. "One thing," she said. "You said... you have two mates? How...?" She couldn't bring herself to finish the question. The physician gave her a sly grin. "We have hemipenes as well. Highly extendable and flexible ones. One of us plays the part of the male and the other two each choose a side of hir tail." A chuckle came from that broad snout. "Never understood how the mammalian males can stand having just one... but that doesn't stop them from using it well, I can tell you that from experience." Ashiya gaped at hir. "I've half a mind to believe the Alliance holds regular official interspecies orgies!" she exclaimed. The other reptile snorted. "We should be so lucky!" -- "So let's be sure I've got this straight. Because this Maknesh guy outranked you, he essentially had the right to order you to be his mate?" Ashiya shook her head slightly. "Not ‘order', exactly. But Kryyjh society places the utmost importance on rank in the military. Let's say he had the right to expect me to accept because his higher rank signified that he'd contributed more to our people." "So basically he was considered to be your better because of his rank?" "In so many words, yes." Ashiya shrugged slightly. "Our culture is centered around military service, which is why sexually-mature adults are expected to find the highest-quality mates possible and commit their hatchlings to the ranks once they're of age. And, generally, the higher you advance in rank, the more appealing you are as a mate." "Hmh. Pardon me if I find that absolutely screwed up." Kyle leaned back in his seat and sighed. "I can see why you were so reluctant to go back. Honestly, I'm glad you made it back here, Ashiya. If I'd known what you were returning to, I'd have never opened the bay doors for you to leave." She gave him a smile. "I doubt I'd have argued with you very long on the decision." She settled herself into the co-pilot's seat. "Do you often ferry passengers around like this?" "It's a side job, helps keep the bank account happy." He chuckled. "Niyre and I have an arrangement where I'll pick up the occasional group for her planetside transport service when I'm around. The salvage pickings have been a bit slim lately and I've really got nothing else to do." "So that's where this group is going, then? A shame we can't go down there with them. I rather like Eligaria Seven." The serpent smiled, flexing her hood. Kyle knew it to be an expression of humor. "I was a little worried that my security restrictions were keeping you from pursuing more lucrative possibilities." "Trying to do this job myself was accomplishing that well enough." Memories caught hold of him for a moment, before he realized she was gazing at him with what seemed to be mild concern. He did his best to look nonchalant. "It looks like we're coming into range of the station now," he told her. "I'll let you handle procedure from here." "Alright." He saw her glance over the displays for a moment, then with only a bit of hesitation call up several menus. She's a quick study, he thought. "Shadowdancer to station," she said. "Requesting docking clearance." There was a few moments' wait, and then Raorahn came up on a video feed. "Line-captain Syhassi," the felinoid said, his ears up and a smile on his lips. "Good to see you again. You as well, Mr. Aragones. Your ship is cleared on approach vector A-5, to docking station seven." "I doubt I even have a rank these days, Arc-Lieutenant," Ashiya chuckled. "Just calling me Vyarhi will do." "Ah, but we do follow protocol here, and I've yet to receive official word from the Kryyjh government revoking your rank." He winked. "Welcome back, both of you." The image cut out. Kyle shook his head and chuckled. "How a guy that whimsical works for Spentz I'll never know," he said. "He seems a decent one." Ashiya was guiding the ship in perfectly. "He is. Hell, I'd invite him out for a drink but he's just as big on protocol as Spentz is. Much less of an ass about it, though." Kyle watched the station loom larger on the displays. "So how am I doing so far?" the Kryyjh asked. "Textbook perfect." He smiled. "You took to the ship's operating system pretty quickly. Especially considering it's more a homebrew piece of work than anything." "It shows, in a good way. The information flow makes sense. I could tell you horror stories of some military-grade Kryyjh datasystems I've had to grapple with. I swear that ‘user friendliness' is probably an alien idea to whoever coded them." The docking procedure went uneventfully; once the ship was in range, tow beams took hold and guided it into the docking bay. Kyle and Ashiya left their stations to escort their fifteen passengers onto the dock. "Welcome to station Epsilon-Seven-Three," Kyle announced, "under the ownership of Glashow Metallurgy and the gem of this far-flung section of Alliance space." He motioned to his left, where Niyre was approaching; she was clad in an elegant dress, with the logo of her tourist enterprise emblazoned on a sash over her left shoulder. "Your tour now continues on with Niyre, who will be providing transportation to the planet's surface and information on a good number of Eligaria Seven's fascinating aspects." He grinned. "And I can truthfully say that my co-pilot and I both wish we were coming along." There was some laughter from the tourists, as well as Niyre and Ashiya. "Thank you, Mr. Aragones and Ms. Syhassi," Niyre said. "Now, if you fine people will come this way, I'll bring you to one of this station's wonderful conference rooms, where I'll give you all a quick presentation of what Eligaria Seven holds in store for you, as well as the buffet your tour package includes." As the group filed by, the Peshi'ya threw them both a wink before turning to join them. Beside him, Ashiya chuckled. "Interesting job, this," she commented. "But, honestly, I think I'm liking it. It's actually somewhat frightening to be this in-control of my own life, to be making my own choices instead of just following orders... but the freedom of it is exhilirating." "I don't doubt it. I don't think I could ever handle a life in the military, myself." He rubbed her shoulder. "Let's go back onboard. After we put away the seats the tourists were using, we're going to head out to the system's asteroid belt and get you up-to-speed on the weapons systems." They headed back onto the Shadowdancer, gained clearance for departure and left the station. Again, Kyle marveled at how quickly Ashiya had picked up on the ship's controls and the protocols one had to follow in flying through Alliance space. It was even more onerous for her, as every move she made had to be cleared with station security, just like the rest of the Kryyjh- but since Arc-Major Spentz had since delegated the majority of that to his staff, Raorahn foremost among them, it was at least a pleasant experience most of the time, and with the passing days showing that none of the Kryyjh were interested in anything other than earning their own way, the whole procedure was almost becoming rote. As the ship proceeded sunward at just over lightspeed, the pair finished stacking up the chairs the tourists had used during their trip to the station and returned to their stations. "Alright, looks like we're about there," Kyle said. "Drop us to sublight speeds and find us a nice spot with lots of rocks. We won't be actually firing the weapons, but the simulation programs will give you all the feedback as though you were." "Alright." As she brought the weapons controls online on her station, he fed the simulation some data, designating a handful of asteroids as targets for her. Then he leaned back and watched what she could do. Apparently, what she could do was far better than he'd ever seen. He was no slouch when it came to ship-to-ship combat, but Ashiya was so much faster at calculating trajectories and presenting targeting solutions that he was beginning to feel like a rank amateur. She was somehow assigning independent targets for each of the four plasma cannons, executing evasive maneuvers and keeping an optimum flight path through her target field- all at once. She'd finished off all thirty-nine targets he'd given her in under four minutes- when it would have easily taken him more than twice as long to finish the run. She brought the ship to a full stop and turned to look at him; there might've been the slightest trace of a smile on those scaled lips. "How did I do?" she asked. It was a moment before he could speak. "Damn," he murmured. "Regulations or no, if Spentz saw that performance he'd have a recruitment flyer in your hands in a heartbeat." She laughed at that. "The piloting is the more difficult part for me, but I've had years of gunnery experience in a variety of situations. I spent a good part of my career in front-line engagements against the ‘mechs." Her smile grew. "Quite frankly, though, the Shadowdancer has one of the simplest and most effective weapons systems I've ever come across. All due credit for the creators there." Memories hit him from nowhere, hard. Fysher had been proud of the changes he'd made to the combat subroutines; he'd shaved forty percent off their processor requirements and yet made them more robust than the stock software. Kyle had done his own work on the interface and data flow, and the end result was something any military force would've loved to license from them- but it had been their shared decision not to do so. Fysher, especially, had feared that at least one member nation of the Rimworld Alliance might find better targets to use it against than the biomechs. He'd never said it, but Kyle knew- Fysher hadn't wanted his work used by his own species against Humanity if that old conflict ever flared up again. "Kyle?" Ashiya's voice broke through his remininscing. Her expression was one of worry. "Kyle... what's wrong?" "I...." He stalled for a moment to try to think of an excuse, before the blaring of an alarm robbed him of the need. A flashing-red window popped up on both displays: Anomalous warp sphere signatures detected followed by Multiple armed craft inbound. It was the line after that that made Kyle's heart skip a beat: Configuration scan confirmed- biomech skirmish fighters "Ah, shit." Kyle immediately terminated the simulation and brought the weapons live. "Looks like we've got about two dozen ‘mech fighters coming in on us. Send a message to the station warning them; I'm setting a course back there. Not the best odds even with a gunner like you." "I'm on it." Her fingers flew across the panel. "Station, this is Shadowdancer," she said into the com. "Be advised, we have multiple biomech craft at our coordinates." A brief pause to tap out more commands, then she continued: "Relaying active scanner data now, real-time link." A good idea, that, Kyle thought. It would give the station crew the ability to pick out what data they deemed vital rather than having to ask for it. After a few seconds, an image opened on a side panel, of a young-looking Duraour male Kyle had never seen before. "Shadowdancer, this is Arc-Specialist Urnsioi. Your data is being received. Station fighters are being dispatched to intercept hostiles; continue on to station at emergency speed. You'll be given a holding pattern when in range. Be advised- biomech contacts are being reported across the system. You are granted authorization for weapons fire for defense of self, others or station from threats." The image cut off. Kyle felt his heart leap into his throat. The situation had to be unusual if Spentz or even Raorahn were dispensing with customary protocol and giving ships the free-fire option. Then again, this wasn't typical ‘mech behavior- warping into a system piecemeal from several vectors. They much preferred the brute-force approach of sending massive fleets in from somewhere out-system. He glanced over at Ashiya and could tell from her expression that she was just as concerned. "This is one situation I'll be happy to let station authorities handle," he told her. "Agreed." He could see her keep active targeting links on their pursuers, despite the Shadowdancer having a good lead on them. They weren't following at the same speed- in fact, it seemed less like the ‘mechs wanted to catch them than it was they were just heading in the same direction. "I've never known them not to latch onto a target of opportunity," Ashiya murmured. "Neither have I. Let's keep those weapons primed to be on the safe side. Weapon selection is at your discretion." "Understood." It was a short and uneventful trip back to the station; once they were in range, Kyle collapsed the ship's warp sphere and opened up a comlink. "Shadowdancer to Cloudhopper," he said. "Niyre, respond please." There was a worrying pause, and then: "Cloudhopper here. We're back aboard the station, nice and safe. Thanks for checking in on me, furless. Now you two get in here and leave the fighting to the professionals." "Working on that at the moment; we're in a holding pattern. Looks like a lot of traffic trying to get back into the station." He watched a squadrion of Alliance fighters flash past on the port side. "Better free up comm frequencies for the station. Shadowdancer out." "Understood. Be careful, both of you. Cloudhopper out." He terminated the connection and went back to watching the scanners. Nearly two hundred ‘mech skirmishers and drone boats had approached within sensor range- but it looked like the station's fighter compliment were more than adequate to handle the situation, making it more of a mopup than an actual fight. It wouldn't be the first time the ‘mechs got themselves into a situation they'd never had a hope of winning, he thought. They just throw themselves at whatever they find, regardless of the odds. Still, something nagged at the back of his mind, something he couldn't put his finger on. His musings were cut short by a quick gasp from Ashiya. "Damnation," she breathed. "Kyle, I would almost swear that those biomech craft are clearing an area...." She was abruptly cut off by a blinding flash of light that overwhelmed the external pickups' automatic filters. The sensors weren't as impressed, though, and they recorded in detail the opening of a strange ovoid aperature of some sort, hanging directly in space barely a light-minute away from the station. Ashiya was right- that's just where the ‘mechs seemed to be working to keep our ships clear, he realized. The "hole" in space was barely more than a few kilometers wide, but that was enough room for several dozen more skirmishers and a handful of battlecruisers to squeeze through. "Hellfire!" Ashiya swore. "What is that thing? Is it some sort of stabilized wormhole?" "I don't know... I've never seen anything like it. Get what data you can from it on the sensors and pipe it through to station- they'll need everything they can learn about... whatever that is." "On it." Ashiya keyed in a short command. Kyle watched as the aperature widened, slowly, though it seemed that no more ships were forthcoming through it. Then- as if a rock had been dropped in an otherwise quiet pond- the portal rippled outwards to thirty times its original size. Something long, black and metallic slipped through the void that made up the opening's surface, and before the idea of "gun" finished flashing through Kyle's mind, a bright red beam lanced outwards from its tip, streaking across the top of the station. The intense heat from what must have been an incredible amount of laser energy blew apart much of the topmost section of the station, and slagged whatever had managed to hold on. Kyle's blood turned to ice. "Shit! Their communications array! The station's just lost long-range comms!" "Since when do the ‘mechs actually fight with a plan?!" Ashiya wondered. "And since when do they have anything like whatever that battlecraft is coming out of?!" "I don't know, but that thing is bringing friends." Tiny glimmers of light were all that he could see at this distance of the multitude of attack craft that the sensors showed were streaming from the rip in space. A staticky image flashed up on a side panel- none other than Spentz himself, looking as though he'd just rolled out of bed, worry lining his features. "Attention all combat-capable ships," he said. "As Rimworld Alliance regulations allow in times of extreme duress, I am asking all civilian ships whose captains or crews believe themselves reasonably able to battle the biomech attack craft in this sector to do so. Compensation and per-kill bounties will be paid by the Alliance Defense Bureau. All ships who wish to participate in the defense of this station and its people, reply to station security immediately for confirmation and battle orders." "There's still way too many unarmed civilian ships out here," Kyle murmured. "Ashiya, contact the station and tell them we're in. There's no way we can put a dent in that behemoth-" he gestured to the battlecraft that was steadily emerging from the rift, more than two kilometers long- "but we can sure as hell take out the skirmishers and cruisers." "Alright." She keyed in a message to the station, requesting inclusion in its defense. The response only took seconds- apparently automated by the station's computers- and detailed where the ship could best direct its efforts. Kyle knew the station had a military-grade AI, with the input of more than a few trained specialists supporting its choices, so he was more than willing to follow the recommendations. "Alright, Ashiya," he said. "You handle the weapons and I'll do the flying. Targets are at your discretion. Spare no expense." "You've got it." She leaned forward in the seat, her eyes on the display, her fingers almost a blur. There certainly was no shortage of targets for her to choose from, but her primary selection surprised him- a veritable line of skirmishers leading up to the closest battlecruiser. Obviously the former Line-captain preferred the direct approach. "Targeting solution presented," she said. "Let's hit them hard." Kyle immediately set the main engines to full power, and the Shadowdancer leapt forward, shooting out of the line of ships around the station. A fair number of other ships were spread out in a loose formation around them, each of them peeling off to take on their own targets. He noted with growing worry that the ‘mechs seemed to be using real tactics in this attack, forming squadrions and choosing targets. Well, if they've decided to bring their A-game, let's bring ours, he thought. Even with their newfound organization and caution, the ‘mechs never knew what hit them once Ashiya started up. She seemed able to predict their evasive maneuvers, placing her shots with lethal effectiveness; Shadowdancer left a trail of damaged and slagged skirmishers in its wake, the few surviving vessels not much of a danger to anything. The ship quickly carved a path towards the targeted battlecruiser, which apparently took notice of their approach; no less than three particle beams lanced across the Shadowdancer's shields, the thirty thousand kilometers between the two ships thankfully lessening the beams' coherency. The shields complained loudly about the abuse, but held. "Shit!" Ashiya yelped. "Targeting those particle cannons now!" A volley of four missiles was quickly followed by a shot from the Shadowdancer's cannon. The sphere of hyperenergized, partially-quantum-fluxing particles hit the battlecruiser's second cannon, blew directly through it and then detonated somewhere inside the ship. There was no outward reaction, but streams of biomech "blood" began to ooze from the entry point; the larger ship was just beginning to maneuver to gain a better angle when the quartet of missiles hit. Their antimatter explosions caused much more damage, nearly blowing apart the lower portion of the cyborg vessel and sending chunks of flesh and metal spinning off. "Should we finish it off?" Ashiya asked. "No, we've disabled its primary weapons. Save the firepower for fresh targets. The station fighters will put that one down." He checked the scanner readouts; the other ships were doing a respectable job of slagging the ‘mech ships, but it seemed that for every one that was destroyed, five more swarmed through the rift around the biomech juggernaut that was still emerging. Even with the support of the station's gun emplacements, the defensive force was starting to take casualties. "We're going to be overrun at this rate," he murmured. "It looks like most of the unarmed ships have docked safely, though," Ashiya replied. "Wait... one of them is breaking formation. What are they doing?" "Making a run for it? Not the best idea." Kyle brought the ship around on a parabolic course to come up alongside it; the fleeing ship was still within range of the station's guns, but there were a good number of ‘mech ships in its vicinity, and if the ship was making a run for it, Kyle wanted to give it a clear path. But he had hardly gotten a third of the way there when a thick blue beam of energy shot forth from the biomech dreadnought and neatly sliced the escaping ship in two. There was no explosion, no debris thrown free, no spectacular death throes; the beam simply vaporized the entire middle of the cargo vessel, leaving two halves- and the floating bodies of the unfortunate crew caught by the sudden introduction of hard vacuum- to drift off at a high rate of speed. "What the hell...?!" Kyle breathed. Just then, a general audio broadcast played through the speakers, Spentz's voice difficult to hear over the increasing amounts of static. "Station to all ships in the vicinity. The defensive situation in the area has become untenable and escape is not feasible. Prepare for emergency docking procedures; flight plans will be uploaded to all ships. Defensive firepower will be concentrated to provide protection for docking ships." "This is bad. This is very bad." Kyle caught the data being fed from the station and plotted a flight path from it. "The station can't communicate through subspace, Alliance military presence is light and the ‘mechs are using real tactics for the first time in six hundred years." "You're not joking." Ashiya's pupils were wide and her hood was slightly extended- a Kryyjh expression of fear, he'd learned. "Kyle, this isn't an attack. This is a harvest." She was right. The only ships that the ‘mechs had attacked were those who were fighting and the one that had tried to flee. Outside of that, they had simply formed a tight perimeter around the station, weathering the fire from the station's guns. Kyle felt a lump form in the pit of his stomach, knowing very much how a trapped animal felt. "Nothing else we can do but hole up in the station," he murmured, "and pray that reinforcements arrive soon." Not that we can call for any with the station's subspace relay destroyed, he thought; without it, regular subspace transmissions would take almost a day just to get out of the system, let alone to adjacent populated sectors. Kyle didn't want to consider what the ‘mechs could do with that sort of time. An eerie sort of calm settled over things as the ships piled into the docking bays as fast as any semblance of safety would allow. The Shadowdancer was near the rear of the queue, circling in a slow orbit around one of the docking bays on the opposite side of the station from where the biomech juggernaut- now completely emerged from the wormhole, which had closed behind it, its four-kilometer bulk looming before them as it closed in on the station; the thing was a prime example of ‘mech ugliness, at a macro scale he'd never wanted to believe could exist. Odd patches of flesh pulsed in-between sections of armor plating to the rhythm of whatever horror served as the monstrosity's "heart". As he was looking over the dreadnought; a gleam of sunlight reflected off of metal caught his gaze; he punched in a command, and the video pickup zoomed in, bringing into view a small spheroid construct that was picking up speed as it flew towards the station. Oddly enough the sensors had no idea it was there. "What is that thing?" he wondered. "I don't know, but it seems to be scan-shielded." Ashiya brought up a com window on the panel. "Station, be advised," she said. "Incoming unknown object at these coordinates-" As if it knew it had been spotted, the spheroid accelerated, covering most of the distance to the station in an eyeblink. A brilliant flash of light flared, and the Shadowdancer's shields turned into a wall of colors, crackling heavily; the sensors picked up a massive EMP pulse, the majority of which had been blocked by the station itself. If we'd taken the full brunt of that, this ship would be dead in space, he realized. God only knows what it did to the station.... As the ship finally reached the docking bay, the video pickup caught what, at the considerable distance between the station and the ‘mech dreadnought, looked like sand spilling out into the blackness of space. The sensors told a different story. "Boarding craft," Ashiya breathed. "Thousands of them." Kyle stared at the readouts for a moment, frozen in place. Bad memories were surfacing, the eerie feeling of deja vu threatening to overwhelm him with panic. He shook his head to clear it. I won't let the past repeat itself, he thought, a grim frown forming on his lips. As soon as the ship was under the control of the dock's tow beams, he unbuckled his harness and jumped from his seat. "Come on," he told Ashiya, leading her towards the crew quarters. They stopped at a row of lockers that he opened with his thumbprint; the doors, a bit dusty from disuse, popped open and slid back, revealing the Shadowdancer's small-arms cache. Almost reverently, Kyle reached in and retrieved the one weapon he'd never expected to see used again. "Here," he told Ashiya, handing her the long-barreled shotgun. "This used to be... my co-pilot's. Now it's yours. Mossberg GR220 semiautomatic shotgun, using these multipurpose shells." He gave her the bandoleer, the thirty-six shells still loaded into it and twenty-four more in its pouch. "Armor-piercing carbide tip with collapsing outer shell; it'll make a mess of any ‘mech no matter where you hit it. Load the shells into the lower port there- it'll hold seven. Then cock the handle on the side to chamber one. The safety is that knob next to the grip." He pointed, and the Kryyjh began methodically sliding the cartridges into the tube. "Have you ever used a projectile weapon before?" he asked her. "No. Kryyjh use pulse weaponry as small arms exclusively. I doubt I'll have much trouble with this, though." She finished loading the weapon and jerked the bolt back. "Wear this," he told her, giving her a black vest with several equipment hooks; she slid it on, adjusting it to better fit her, then put the bandoleer on over it. "That'll protect you from most small-arms fire, energy or projectile," he told her, pulling on his own vest. "And if they make it into close-quarters combat range, you'll need this." He unhooked the dark-grey scabbard from the back of the locker, drew the curved one-handed sword partway from it and handed it to her. "The blade is molecularly-condensed carbon-laced titanium; the edge is fused diamond. You could possibly cut through deckplate with this blade- but the scythes some of the ‘mechs have for limbs can do the same thing, so be careful." "I know that all too well." She quickly fastened the scabbard to the belt of the vest as she watched him pull out his own personal weapon- a GFN M2330 submachine gun, one of the best projectile weapons one could have for close-quarters combat, at least in his opinion. He loaded a magazine into the top, chambered a round, then slid ten more magazines into his vest's pockets. Eight hundred and eighty rounds. Let's hope it's enough. His own melee weapon- a slender katana with a specialized backsheath- was quickly hooked onto one of his vest's clips. With that done, he closed the lockers and turned to Ashiya, who looked as determined as he felt. "What do you think we'll run into in there?" she asked quietly. Kyle was silent a moment before he answered. "Our worst nightmares." -- Even here, on the side of the station away from the EMP weapon's detonation, it was easy to see the chaos it had caused. Lights flickered, infopanels flashed static or nonsense, and doors were frozen half-shut. Ashyia was simply amazed that any part of the station's power and electronic grids had survived what must have been a electromagnetic influx of monumental proportions. She was also thankful that the station's artificial gravity matrix had been unaffected; freefall made her queasy. There was a gathering of some sort at the far end of the docking bay, a combination of station crew and civilians gathered around Arc-Major Spentz and Arc-Lieutenant Raorahn. All of them were very well-armed; across Raorahn's shoulders was slung a heavy plasma cannon that would've seemed too massive for him to lift, though the felinoid seemed to have no trouble with it at all. Ashiya caught the tail end of a statement Spentz was making as they approached. "...don't have any information on enemy strength or arms, but we can assume that with the number of pods that were launched before the EMP struck, the number is likely to be in the thousands. The networks are too damaged to establish communication with the darkened half of the station...." He trailed off as Ashiya and Kyle approached, but not because of them. Heavy boots echoed through the bay, dozens of them marching in cadence; Ashiya stretched her neck to see over the crowd and witnessed a rather disconcerting sight- Tirarnik soldiers, nearly a hundred of them dressed in heavy combat armor and toting very impressive pulse weaponry- walking in lockstep from the far end of the docking bay. In unison, they stopped a handful of meters from the assembled crowd, and the same one that had been speaking to Spentz before strode forward. "Report the situation, Arc-Major," he ordered. If Spentz still held some resentment for the Tirarnik commander, he certainly hid it well; his demeanor was completely businesslike. "The biomechs' EMP weapon did substantial damage to the station's grids. A number of bulkheads were affected, triggering the automatic safety locks; we're literally locked out of about sixty percent of the station. We have no communication with the other side, but as all electronics in the locations closest to the bulkheads are completely fried, it's likely that there's no light or comms available there. I've made plans to breach four of the bulkheads simultaneously and send in combat teams to engage the ‘mechs so that we can evacuate the afflicted sections." "No. Judging by what scans we were able to get before the EMP hit, you're looking at upwards of ten thousand ‘mechs onboard this station, with more being inserted as we speak. Opening the seals would give them an easy route into this section of the station and risk personnel we cannot afford to lose." Now there was emotion on Spentz's face- shock and anger. "Are you seriously suggesting we abandon the people on that side to be torn to pieces by the ‘mechs?!" he demanded. The Tirarnik's eyes narrowed, his ears going flat. "Vent the afflicted area." There were assorted gasps and other sounds of shock- more than a few of which came from the assembled soldiers behind the commander; a quick glance showed that the suggestion didn't sit well with his troops, despite their attempts to look neutral. It certainly wasn't well-accepted by Spentz, whose expression had become one of fury. "There are at least two thousand innocent citizens on that side of the station!" he snarled. "There are children trapped there, for God's sake! I am not about to damn them to a slow death by suffocation or exposure just for expediency!" "For all intents and purposes they are already dead, Arc-Major. Vent the afflicted area and you spare them an even more agonizing death at the hands of the biomechs, and rob the invading force of a large number of units, all in one motion. If you aren't willing to do that, then perhaps I should assume command of this- URK!" Had she possessed eyelids with which to blink, Ashiya would have very likely missed the split-second movement of Lawrence Spentz drawing a large-calibre handgun and placing its barrel underneath the Tirarnik's chin. A heartbeat later, the solders primed and raised their weapons, aiming them at the Human; in that same instant Raorahn's cannon was pointed at them in return. Spentz didn't seem fazed in the least at the standoff. "Now you listen to me," he said, his voice deep and menacing. "The safety of the people on board this station are MY responsibility, and I swear to every last one of your Ancestors that if you so much as entertain the thought of sending them out into hard vacuum, I will splatter that thought, along with your miserable brains, all over the deckplate!" The situation was tense, as likely to explode as an destabilized plasma core and just as likely to end up with a lot of deaths. But just as the Tirarnik commander opened his muzzle to speak, another, deeper voice interrupted him. "Hold where you are." Everyone seemed to turn at once, to the entrance of a tall, black-furred male Tirarnik whose uniform held several commendation ribbons and a very impressive-looking rank insignia. He surveyed the scene impassively, taking in the sight of the weapon being held to his compatriot's muzzle; Spentz hadn't moved an inch. The newcomer finally let out a soft sigh. "Alright, now," he said, his voice quiet yet authoritative. "Arc-Major, please stand down. I will handle this situation." "Yes, Commodore." Spentz holstered his weapon, standing back; after a moment, everyone else lowered their weapons as well. The Commodore strode up to stand before the junior-ranked officer. "Beta," he murmured, the term seeming to be a lesser rank of some sort to Ashiya's imperfect understanding of Tirarnik military protocol. The Beta seemed to struggle to regain his dignity. "Alpha. The Human refuses to vent the afflicted portion of the station, though I've explained to him the tactical advantage-" One of the Commodore's ears lowered, just slightly. That was enough to quiet the junior officer. "Beta," he repeated. "Repeat the Third Precept." A confused expression crept over the Beta's features. "Alpha? I don't understand...." "Repeat the Third Precept." "I...." A moment's pause, and then: "Rarrou dhii'arrroau kyahrau nishkhiau di'dihau, di'dikresh." The ear lowered a bit more, a tinge of irritation entering the quiet voice. "Well done, Beta. Now, again, in GalCom1." The Beta seemed strained, but complied. "The true Hunter will harm none but Prey, and Threat." "Correct. The people aboard this station... are they Prey?" "They are not, Alpha." "And are they Threat?" "They are not, Alpha." The Commodore moved closer, staring down at the junior officer with harsh amber eyes. "Then you will not again mention, nor attempt to implement, any plan of venting any part of this station, or I will save the Arc-Major a bullet by shooting you myself." With that, he turned away from the Beta, who looked for all the universe to Ashiya like he'd just escaped a death sentence. "I apologize for my lateness," the Commodore said. "I was gathering information on our situation. The biomechs are employing a broad-spectrum neutrino field that is making the formation of warp spheres extremely difficult; it seems that they do not wish us to leave." He made his way over to the Arc-Major. "Now. If we are to be of any use to the people trapped on the other side of this station, we must move quickly. Arc-Major, I expect you have a plan?" To his credit, Spentz didn't miss a beat despite the bizarre exchange that had just taken place. "Yes, Commodore. I've selected four bulkheads to penetrate that will give us the best chance to flank any biomech forces present on the station and secure sections where citizens would have retreated for safety. A good number of my people are on that side; I have no doubt that they'll have set up strongholds." "Good. The strength of your forces?" "Everyone you see here, Commodore. Station crew and security personnel as well as armed civilians." The Tirarnik flicked his ears in seeming satisfaction. "Not many, but we will have to use what we have to maximum effect. With my people here you will have just shy of four hundred brave hunters to fend off our unwelcome guests; if we are quick, we may still be able to save many of those trapped on the other side and add their numbers to our ranks. What we are to do about the dreadnought waiting outside, however, is more of a problem; our ship has no subspace relay. It seems we are cut off from the Rimworld Alliance." Next to Ashiya, Kyle raised his hand. "Maybe not," he called out. Spentz, Raorahn and the Commodore all looked up. "What is it you mean?" the Tirarnik questioned him. "I know a Vii'nev who should still be on the station somewhere. Lisschek Vi'vi'asken'vii. If... if he's still alive, he can relay anything we need to his hive. I sincerely doubt the ‘mechs can block his telepathic link." Spentz spoke up. "The station computer and comms system are useless, Aragones. How are we supposed to find your friend, let alone tell him what we need sent out?" "He taught me a trick to contact him. Hold on a moment." The Human fell silent, his forehead creasing in concentration; Ashiya felt an odd tickle in the back of her mind. A moment later, Kyle's eyes opened again. "Lisschek's alive," he said, relief plain in his voice. "And on this side of the station. But he's trapped in his quarters- the door won't open. He says he knew something was wrong and didn't want to bother station personnel with what he thought was a minor issue." He chuckled. "Deck twelve, section three, number thirty-seven. That's where he is." Spentz nodded. "Arc-Lieutenant," he said, turning to Raorahn, "take two security personnel up to free our trapped Vii'nev." The felinoid nodded and started off, motioning to two of the armed station personnel, who immediately fell in behind him. Spentz quickly began assigning teams in preparation for breaching the bulkheads, giving Ashiya a moment to speak with Kyle. "You're a telepath?" she asked him. "Latent." He chuckled. "Not enough ability to actually communicate with anyone normally, but Lisschek taught me how to focus my thoughts so that he could pick up on them if he wasn't too far away. Just in case of emergencies, he'd said. I think this situation qualifies." She found it in herself to laugh quietly at that, before his gaze became alert. She twisted her neck to look behind her and saw Lisschek walking towards them, wearing plain grey wrappings instead of the ornate ones she'd seen him in last time; apparently, he'd gotten caught in whatever the Vii'nev version of "casual clothing" was. He didn't seem to mind any, though. "This one expresses apologies," he thought to everyone around him. "There would not have been such delay in offering help had this one known how dire the situation was." Spentz waved a hand. "Don't worry about that. We need information relayed to your hive and then to the Alliance in general. We have no other method of communication open to us right now." The large carapaced head nodded. "What you tell this one, the hive will know, and will relay to all who can be of help." "Alright then. The station is under heavy biomech attack, with serious electronic disruption caused by an EMP weapon. Access to roughly half of the station is prevented by emergency bulkheads. Enemy forces are expected to number in the thousands and casualties may already be high. We will do what we can to remove the biomech presence from the station but require significant reinforcements to drive the biomech dreadnought from the area, or we will be overwhelmed in very short order." The large insectoid silently took in every word, and was quiet for a moment longer before he once more "spoke". "The hive is relaying your needs to the Rimworld Alliance military at this moment, and is also moving forces to act in relief as well," he told them. "This one has been told that your situation is not unique." The Commodore frowned. "What is happening?" "The hive is receiving reports of other stations being attacked in a similar fashion- six, not including this one, all in similarly distant areas. The Human phrase ‘caught with their pants down' seems to best describe the RA military's reaction to this development; substantial help may be slow in coming." "Frost and night." The Commodore's ears were laid back. "This speaks of coordination on a scale I never thought the biomechs could accomplish. Caught with our pants down, indeed." His eyes closed for a moment. "Well. One adapts, or one dies. Arc-Major, my people are at your command for the duration of this incursion. As this station is under your purview, I will accede to your authority as pertains to tactical and rescue maneuvers. I think you have proven beyond a doubt that the safety of the citizens aboard is your highest priority." "Thank you, sir." Spentz actually looked pleased for a moment, before his expression returned to one of determination. He quickly split the assembled soldiers and volunteers into four groups; Ashiya was glad to see that no small number of Kryyjh had come forward to be included, two of whom ended up in her group. Each group's leader and second was given a hard-copy map of the station with objectives and rallying points outlined on them; real-time communications would be impossible, at least until some semblance of functionality was returned to the comms systems. Doing so had been listed as a "strongly desired" secondary objective. Once the group assignments were done, Lisschek stepped forward. "This one requests a weapon," he told Spentz. "I'm afraid I can't allow you to take part in this." Spentz seemed honestly regretful. "You are our only communications link and I can't afford to let you risk yourself." With Lisschek's reluctant but understanding assent, the Human turned. "Arc-Lieutenant Raorahn, you'll be leading the first group." He motioned to one of the Tirarnik soldiers. "Pack-Alpha, you'll be in charge of the second group. I'll be leading the third, and-" Raorahn spoke up. "I'm sorry, sir, but you can't." Spentz whirled. "Why not?" he demanded. "Rimworld Alliance regulations require that the commanding officer of an installation under attack remain in a safe command post for as long as reasonably possible. That's you, sir. I'm afraid the Commodore is included in that as well, as he's in charge of the Tirarnik detachment here." It could have been just the slightest smile on the felinoid's lips. "Even in a situation like this we have to adhere to regulations, Arc-Major." Spentz opened his mouth to speak, but the Commodore placed a hand on his shoulder. "The Arc-Lieutenant is correct, Arc-Major," he said. "I will need your assistance here to coordinate our responses. I do not doubt that your second-in-command will act well in your stead." With no small amount of reluctance, Spentz complied, sending another security officer in his place for group three, and a second Tirarnik for the fourth group. Lisschek gave them both a glance. "Both of you be careful," he thought to them. "This one will be with you in spirit if not in body." Ashiya's group was led to one of the bulkheads chosen to be breached. Two Tirarnik planted directed explosives on either side of the heavy seal, then commanded everyone to stand back; with the press of a button and a loud bang, the bulkheads were blown open. Past the smells of scorched metal and discharged plasma, Ashiya could scent blood and fear; apparently the ‘mechs were already hard at work. She gripped the shotgun tightly and moved when commanded to. Utter darkness greeted her beyond the bulkhead, interrupted only sporadically by the occasional light panel discharging some pent-up reserves of power, prompting those with lights attached to their weapons to activate them. For several long and suspenseful minutes, the only sounds to be heard were various types of boots on deckplate and harshly-whispered orders. A good number of the group flinched when a distant scream echoed through the corridors; the group leaders quickened the pace, clearing each hallway and section carefully, even checking the ventilation and access shafts. Ashiya knew from experience that the ‘mechs were clever when it came to finding hiding places to strike out from. Their advancement went unchecked until they reached the beginning of this section's crew quarters, where Ashiya spotted several smears of blood of varying colors making trails away from their position, towards one of the common areas. The blood appeared fresh. There won't be any bodies, though, Ashiya thought. The ‘mechs take those for biological material for their spawning vats. They're the lucky ones; anyone they can take alive ends up much worse. She shuddered to think of how close she'd come to being one of those unfortunates. Damned if I'll lie on my tail and let anyone else suffer that if I can prevent it. Her thoughts were interrupted when the lead Tirarnik stopped in mid-stride and raised a hand in warning, her pointed ears swiveling back and forth. With a few hand gestures she sent several people to either side of the next corridor entrance, then raised her pulse rifle and advanced forward carefully to the nearest intersection. She risked a peek around the corner- then let out a yelped profanity and scrambled back the way she had come, the hall behind her turning into a wall of flesh and metal as a compliment of ‘mechs did their best to swarm her. Ashiya had only an instant to take in the revolting sight of the biomech invasion force- a mixture of bipedial, quadrupedial and serpentine forms, each and every one of them a seemingly random mishmash of grown flesh, haphazardly-welded armor and various weaponry- before the corridor was lit up by a veritable wall of covering fire. Some thoughtful soul pulled the Tirarnik female to safety, getting her clear as plasma spheres, pulse bolts and kinetic-energy rounds slammed into the ‘mechs. Not a single one of them managed to get a shot off before the entire group was laid to waste. The female Tirarnik let out a soft sigh as she was helped to her feet by one of her compatriots. "Well," she murmured. "If they didn't know we were coming before, they certainly know now." She surveyed the smoking pile of flesh and metal for a moment, then gingerly stepped around it. "Come on. We're working on borrowed time." The group slowly dwindled as it made its way through, as small groups were stationed at intersections along the way to cover their flanks. Once their numbers were bolstered by whoever they could rescue, they would do what they could to cleanse the sections nearest the breached bulkheads- but for now, their primary objective was to locate as many people as they could and get them to safety. After checking a few empty hallways and unoccupied outlying offices, the group leader came to a doorway leading into a small office of some sort; the emergency shutters had come down, sealing off the room. The Tirarnik officer placed one ear against the shutter, then went to the wall on the far side, opened up a small panel and punched in a code on a keypad hidden beneath. Her ears lowered as nothing seemed to happen, and after another unsuccessful attempt, motioned for another breech charge to be brought forward. Just as the other Tirarnik was bringing it up, there was a soft creak from the door, making everyone freeze- -and then the panel practically blew out of the doorway with a loud clang, as a ‘mech soldier- this one much taller and more massive than any Ashiya had seen before- leapt through. Those nearest the creature let out cries of distress as they scattered to get away, while the cyborg nightmare raised a set of wicked talons and prepared to leap. Training and reflex kicked in, and Ashiya brought the shotgun to her shoulder, leveling the sights on the creature's chest as she squeezed the trigger. *BOOM* The recoil was considerable to someone who had never fired a kinetic-energy weapon before, even though Ashiya knew she had been spared the brunt of it by the shotgun's design. But any doubts she may have had about Humanity's particular contribution to weapon technology dissolved as she saw a crater tear itself open in the ‘mech's upper chest; foul gore, tissues and splintered metal burst from its back as the heavy slug literally blew through the large biomech hunter. It reeled, stumbled, but somehow managed not to fall, catching itself on the walls; its claws screeched across the deckplate as it fought to keep itself upright. Ashyia was only dimly aware of the soft, hollow sound of the spent shell hitting the deck beside her tail as she brought the weapon back down, sighted her target and fired again. *BOOM* The second shot, directly into what passed for the ‘mech's abdomen, very nearly split the creature in half. Its limbs flailed wildly as the lack of structural support from its torso made its strength meaningless, falling onto the deck and twitching maniacally for a moment before going still. Whatever it had for a heart splurted sticky yellow fluids all over the deckplate for another few seconds before the monstrosity finally expired. Ashiya watched the ‘mech through the shotgun's sights for a moment, her quickened breathing bringing the acrid scents of scorched ‘mech flesh and burned carbonix propellent into her snout. Then loud screeching caught her attention as a half-dozen or so more ‘mechs tried to pile through the doorway to see what was going on; they were greeted by another barrage of fire, sending them back into the office in a great many more pieces. Her training overrode the brief moment of shock that had taken hold of her, and she reminded herself that her weapon had less than a full load of ammunition; she quickly drew a pair of shells from the bandoleer and slid them, one at a time, into the shotgun's tube, barely pausing as she felt Kyle's hand on her shoulder. "Good shooting," he told her quietly. She patted the shotgun's warm barrel lightly. "Good weapon," she replied, giving him a slight smile before turning to see what the office had in store for them. It didn't take her long to regret the decision- apparently what was supposed to have served as a safe haven for more than twenty people had instead turned into a deathtrap, as the shutters had sealed the poor souls in while biomechs had infiltrated the room through ductwork. Bodies lay strewn across desks and chairs, with blood of various colors splattered on the walls and even the ceiling; some disgusting-looking fleshy sacks held some body parts, which the ‘mechs had no doubt been gathering to take back to their ship for processing. Ashiya swallowed back vomit and turned away. "...nothing we can do here," the squad leader half-whispered, her ears back. "We need to keep moving." And move they did, with more urgency than before. Ashiya winced as a high-pitched sound echoed down the halls- machinery moving, or someone screaming, she couldn't tell- and tightened her grip on the shotgun. Been too long since I've been at the forefront of battle, she thought. I've lost some of my edge. I need to calm myself, detach my analytical mind from my emotions. She let out a slow breath and concentrated, trying to implement her old training, to become a tactical unit rather than a feeling creature. The lights the group carried speared through the darkness, lit otherwise only by the occasional sparking terminal or flickering illumination panel. Even Ashiya's relatively limited hearing could pick up on strange noises, creaking metal and dripping fluids, that echoed through the abandoned corridors, making her twitch at every new sound; she could only imagine what those in the group with better aural capacity were going through. More than once she saw the ears of one of the Tirarnik soldiers twitch at some sound she couldn't pick up. Her heart seemed to miss a beat when the lead soldier threw up a hand in a signal to halt. As silence fell over the stilled group, Ashiya could barely make out a new sound- a rhythmic thudding, like steel bearings falling into a padded bin. Footfalls, she realized. Dozens of them, possibly. Coming from where? She swept her gunsights between the two corridors before the group, unable to tell which one the ‘mechs might be coming from... until the sounds got closer, and she realized that both corridors were echoing the metallic clanks of biomech movement. "Form up!" the group leader growled, shouldering her weapon. "You five, cover that corridor! All others, this one!" As one of "you five", Ashiya took position near the edge of the rightmost corridor, aiming the shotgun towards the next bend in the path, about a hundred meters away. At that range, anyone with functioning eyes would be hard-pressed to miss- but then again, so would the biomechs. Two other volunteers took position at the other side of the corridor, and the last two went into a prone position not far away from the edges, their weapons aimed slightly upwards to give a more effective field of fire. Ashiya swallowed, shouldered her weapon and stilled her thoughts, waiting simply to react. Yet despite her inner calm, she couldn't help but shudder when more warped shapes scrambled into view. As soon as she had a clear shot, she pulled the trigger; the heavy slug's velocity didn't seem to suffer very much for the distance, as the hole that opened up in the ‘mech's chest would attest. But the ensuing rush of ‘mechs she was expecting failed to happen- instead, the few who had shown themselves retreated back past the corner, one of them only pausing to fire off a few unaimed pulse rounds as if... as if to cover their flanks, she realized. They really ARE using tactics now. In a bizarre way it made the job easier on them; trained soldiers could give rational responses to an enemy who used recognizable tactics. Apparently the Tirarnik felt the same way. "Move up!" the group leader called out, motioning for several of her fellow soldiers to take the lead into the leftmost corridor. "This section is a loop. We'll pincer them." She turned to Ashiya. "You, Kryyjh. I'm assigning you one of my people as a sub-leader, and you'll be his second." She motioned to one of the other lupenoids, a young-looking male who stepped forward. "Take ten others of your choice and claim that corridor." With an exchange of affirmative ear-flicks from the young male, the group leader left Ashiya to make her choice. Kyle was her first choice; one of the other Kryyjh was her third. She left the other two of her species for the other group, to give it the benefits of their heat-sensing abilities. Her other choices gave her a fair mix of strength, agility, and sensory advantages; she found it gratifying to have such a wealth of choice, after a career in a one-species military. The group leader seemed to approve of her selection as well, immediately gathering the twenty or so remaining people and bringing them through the other hall. Ashiya took position behind the male Tirarnik and signalled for the rest of the group to follow in close; the sub-leader slipped something off of his belt and stuck his head around the corner. "Flash out in three!" he barked. "Heard!" came a response. The soldier pushed a button on the small device, waited exactly three seconds, then reared back and threw it further down the hall. "Flash out!" he shouted, before plastering his back to the wall once more. A bright burst of light painted the nearby corner in a kaleidoscope of bizarre shadows as a loud bang echoed through the halls. "Move!" the male ordered, before swinging himself back around the corner, weapon at the ready. Ashiya was right behind him, just off to his right, shotgun shouldered and ready. Several of the ‘mechs had been caught in the open by the flashbang device and were still stunned; she was only too happy to take advantage of the situation, placing shot after shot into the crowd, the rounds tearing the ‘mechs apart. The Tirarnik's pulse rifle joined in after a second, and the weapon's fast-moving blasts scorched and pockmarked the ‘mechs' flesh and armor. Just as the group was starting to recover, more fire poured in on them from the other corridor; someone in that group was sporting a plasma cannon, and bright blue lights strobed through the hall as a steady stream of superheated gas poured into the disorganized attacking force, actually setting one of the ‘mechs on fire as it stumbled to the deck. In only about ten seconds, the small ‘mech squad was downed. Ashiya loaded more shells into the shotgun as the male Tirarnik shot her an appreciative glance, before he rushed forward to make sure the ‘mechs were completely out of action. Apparently one of them wasn't, earning a sustained burst from his pulse rifle. Ashiya moved to cover him as he loaded a fresh pulse coil into his weapon, noting with some satisfaction that Kyle was right behind her doing the same. "You look a hell of a lot more calm than I feel," he murmured to her. "I could say the same about you," she returned, clasping one of his hands in hers and squeezing it for a moment. "I'm not sure I agree with what you said about not being able to make it as a soldier." "No way I could do this for a living. I'll leave it to you professionals." He gave her a weak smile before turning his attention back to the situation at hand, as did she. The Tirarnik group-leader, apparently pleased with how the two sub-groups were functioning, had them split up to cover more ground; given that the ‘mechs were spreading faster than even she'd thought possible and seemed to be taking a defensive posture to hold what they'd taken, the plan seemed sound enough to Ashiya. They'd just have to depend on the rear guard they'd left so far to watch their backs. What had been a careful advancement became a cautious rush through the darkened corridors, in a hurry to get to possible holdout points that hadn't yet fallen. Rooms were given cursory checks to make sure they didn't contain ‘mechs or possible victims, and hallways were covered just long enough for the group to advance without harrassment. It was only when the group stopped briefly for the sub-leader to consult his map that Ashiya heard oncoming footsteps moving at a very fast speed. A male Peshi'ya stumbled around the corner, looked up, saw them and opened his mouth to call out- -only to be speared through the chest by the scytheblade of a biomech's limb. The male let out a choking scream of agony as he was literally pinned to the floor, flailing wildly as the ‘mech raised another limb to finish him off. Ashiya raised her shotgun to fire, not even knowing if she had a clear shot or could hit at that range. A burst of gunfire to her side startled her. Kyle rushed forward, firing sustained bursts at the ‘mech as he ran; amazingly, despite the considerable distance and his movement, his aim was exceptional. The rounds took the ‘mech off-balance, forcing it to withdraw its limb from the stricken herbivore in front of it and stagger back, and just as Ashiya realized she was doing her utmost best to keep up with Kyle, her shotgun joined the fray. More fire joined theirs after a moment, and it wasn't long before the ‘mech was brought down. Kyle took only a moment to check and clear the hallway before running to the felled Peshi'ya. A horrible wound gaped in his chest, through which Ashiya could see one of his ribs, neatly bisected in two by the ‘mech's bladed limb. She was no cross-species medic, but it seemed to her that the wound- while not imminently fatal- was critical and needed to be seen to as fast as possible. She raised her head to call over the sub-leader and found him already there, looking over the wounded male with a grim expression. "Bandage him up as well as you can," he told one of the others, a felinoid who'd been designated as a field medic, before pointing to two others, a Gez'byrin and an equinoid whose species name Ashiya couldn't remember. "You and you. Get him back to our last held point as fast as you can without making his condition worse. Have them get him back to the command point for immediate treatment and then return as fast as you safely can." "Understood." The medic stripped the wounded male's shirt off, applied a medical-nanite gel and did his best at wrapping the wounds to keep pressure on them; the herbivore clenched his fists and hissed, but didn't cry out. "Listen," he coughed. "There's more... there's others further in. Younglings with them. Secured a schoolroom, but... not sure we can hold it. Follow my scent trail. You need to... get there... gah!" He went into a coughing fit, spraying blood onto the deckplate. The soldier knelt down next to him. "We'll get them out of there," he assured the stricken male. "Now save your strength so we can get you to safety." He watched for a moment as the Peshi'ya was gingerly placed on the Gez'byrin's back, before the sauropoid carefully carried him back the way they'd come, with the equinoid providing armed escort. With that done, the soldier turned towards the hall the Peshy'ia had fled down, and growled a single word. "Move!" They moved. For the first time in her life, Ashiya wished she had legs instead of a tail; she felt like she was blocking the path, slowing the group down. She urged herself to go faster. Innocent lives were at stake and she would not let her own shortcomings lead to their loss. The group was slowed at a couple of points by a handful of ‘mechs putting up a resistance, but the determined group simply plowed them over; one of their members caught a spazer shot to the shoulder, scorching skin and fur, but insisted that she could go on. Finally, after far too much time, they reached what they were looking for- one of the station's school compartments, splattered in biomech blood and entrails, with several of their corpses decorating the front walkway. As the group spread out to secure the area, Ashiya noted the utter silence coming from inside and felt a lump of despair settle in her stomach. That feeling ended when what had seemed to be a barricaded window opened slightly, and the barrel of a weapon poked its way out, pointing directly at her. "What the...?!" she heard a voice mumble. "Open the door! We've got friendlies outside!" The window snapped shut, and a moment later the front door- scored by slash marks and weapons fire- rattled its way open. Two armed civilians rushed out to guard the group's flanks, and motioned for them to enter; the Tirarnik nodded his assent, and they went in. What greeted Ashiya's eyes once they were inside shocked her. Desks were overturned to create makeshift barricades, pockmarks and melted spots decorated the walls where the occasional ‘mech fire had gotten through the windows, and discarded pulse coils, energy cells and magazines littered the floor. Behind a veritable wall of stacked desks and other obstructions, Ashiya could see almost fifty children gathered together in a tight group. Some were crying, some were huddled together in fear, but most seemed to be simply exhausted; a few were even managing a fitful sleep. A good number of adult civilians were present as well; some were armed with an assortment of weapons, but most were not. Ashiya's surprise grew when she located Trihsken and Elmez'ki keeping watch near the windows. The felinoid seemed unharmed, but the cetacean had lost one of his four arms at some point; a tightly-wound, bloodied bandage covered the stump where his lower right limb had been severed, just above the elbow. Both seemed immensely relieved to see her and Kyle. "Thank the Lady of Infinity," Elmez'ki murmured. "One less worry on my mind, now. You two are alright?" "As well as anyone can be in this situation," Kyle returned. "What happened to your arm?" "Biomech skirmisher took it when I showed an objection to the damned thing trying to skewer the young ones." He sighed. "This was my favorite arm, too," he said forlornly, gazing at the limb for a moment. "Going to be a pain having it cloned and reattached... if we live long enough for it to happen." He looked up. "I take it Yurarand found you?" "You mean the Peshi'ya male?" Ashiya asked. Elmez'ki nodded. "Yes, though a ‘mech found him first. He's wounded but alive," she added quickly, "and on the way back to our command point for treatment. He told us your location and status." "Bravest damned male I've ever met," Trihsken half-whispered. "We couldn't even spare him a weapon, but he volunteered to make a run for help, since he was the fastest of us here. I'm glad to hear he's in good hands." Kyle nodded. "We're going to be moving all of you out of here," he told them. "We've got a path back to the docking bay with backup along the way. We've also got enough weapons to arm anyone who wants to help. First priority is the children, though." "Absolutely." Trihsken pushed herself off of the wall she'd been leaning against. "Who's in charge of your group, Kyle?" "The Tirarnik over there. We've got a small company of soldiers supporting us. Only a few hundred, but that's a lot better than nothing. We also found Lisschek, and he's got Vii'nev reinforcements coming." The Kiknachiki let out a slow, clicking sigh of relief. "Best news I've heard all day," he quipped. "Let's get moving." The children were being gathered together to make the trip back; it seemed that the decision had been made to move the children in two groups, leaving half behind in the school- which had already been proven a defensible position- to make the journey more managable. Several of the unarmed adults had volunteered to go as well, so that they could be armed at the command point and return to rescue the rest of the younglings. The youngest children were chosen, grouped together and quickly ushered to the entrance. Despite their obvious fear, they were quiet, many of them holding each other close for a sense of security. Ashiya was suddenly hit by an unexpected and overwhelming feeling of maternal protectiveness towards the younglings before her, as strong as if they were the very offspring her own biology had denied her. They were innocents, who had done nothing to deserve being in this situation... but the biomechs saw them only as more sources for DNA and biological material, and would slaughter them with the same unfeeling butchery as anyone else they found on the station. There was absolutely no way Ashiya could consider herself to be a compassionate being and not do everything possible to prevent that from happening. "Don't worry, young ones," she murmured to them. "We won't let any harm come to you." The Tirarnik returned, his ears and face set in a determined expression. "We're getting these cubs out of here now," he said. "Speed is our priority. We'll take the same route back, and if any biomechs impede our progress... remove them with absolute prejudice." He slapped the handguard of his pulse rifle in emphasis. Nods and grunts of assent could be heard from those gathered around, as well as the various clicks and mechanical whines of weapons being primed. The emergency shutter was opened, and the group filed out, as quickly and efficiently as nearly thirty children could be made to do. The sounds Ashiya had heard before, once quiet and distant, had returned with much more urgency. With a shudder, she realized that somehow, the ‘mechs had picked up on their movements and were not going to allow them to proceed unchecked. She kept a close watch on each corridor they passed, ready to fire at the merest sight or flicker of heat of an approaching ‘mech- but none showed themselves, despite the ever-strengthening feeling that the group was being shadowed. It amazed her to no end that they made it to the first of their sentries unmolested. The situation was explained, the children were turned over for evacuation to the command point, and the several unarmed adults with them were brought along to be equipped. The rest of the group waited at the edge of their "controlled ground" until reinforcements could be sent. "This isn't right," she heard someone mutter. "What are they waiting for? I know they're out there!" "Thrice-damned things are thinking," someone else replied. "Or something's thinking for them, I don't know. Just stay calm, they're trying to spook us." "They're doing a damned good job of it!" the first person grumbled. It wasn't soon enough that the reinforcements came, with news that the children had been safely escorted to the command point. With their numbers bolstered by the fifteen brave volunteers who were now sporting rather impressive weaponry of their own, the group retraced their steps to the school building. Ashiya could almost FEEL the ‘mechs just behind them, just out of sight and heat-sense range, but their scent was as thick as fog in the air. Still, they failed to make an appearance as the group regained the school and were let in. Once inside, the Tirarnik male spoke up. "A decision has been made. Once the cubs are evacuated and power restored to usable levels, we'll be using this school as a tactical hardpoint to push the ‘mechs back, which means we'll need to maintain a guard here." He looked around at the few defenders who had managed to hold the school so far. "I'll take volunteers, but those of you who were here first would be the most valuable. The choice is yours." Ashiya wasn't surprised in the least that those the Tirarnik had spoken to willingly stepped up to keep their posts. It wouldn't be an easy job- she didn't doubt that once the ‘mechs realized the place was being made a stronghold, they'd stop at nothing to get at it- but these people had shown that they would not shy from battle. They were supplemented with several other volunteers, and told that once power was restored they could expect to see a full contingent of soldiers moving in. With that done, the older children- fourteen of them in all- were gathered up and escorted out of the school. Ashiya and Kyle paused just a moment to wish Trihsken and Elmez'ki luck before they followed. All hope that this trip would go like the first vainished when the Tirarnik halted abruptly and waved his fist in a signal to stop. A moment's pause, a nervous twitch of the ears, and then he whirled. "Fall back!" he snarled. As if on cue, half a dozen ‘mechs spilled out of the corridor they'd been about to cut through, each of them screeching and scrambling to leap at the group. Weapons fire erupted immediately as the group doubled back; those on the rear guard showed their discipline by forming collapsing firing lines, several of them providing covering fire as others retreated, then receiving cover as they themselves fell back. It wasn't easy for a group of more than thirty people- almost half of them unarmed younglings- to move tactically through darkened corridors, but somehow they managed to retrace their steps halfway back to the school... ...where a second group of ‘mechs cut them off once again. Ashiya swore beneath her breath as her shotgun turned the lead ‘mech into a pile of smoking meat. The Tirarnik barked out- literally- an order to retreat into a third hallway, pausing to provide cover fire of his own as Ashiya slithered behind him, loading more cartridges into the shotgun's magazine. The ‘mechs hadn't fired a shot yet, for which she was both thankful and dreadful; it could only mean the ‘mechs wanted them alive. For his part, the Tirarnik seemed to have no intention of letting the ‘mechs herd him- his quick decisions as to where to turn were managing to keep them just out of biomech striking range, even though Ashiya could tell the ‘mechs were doing their absolute best to flank and box in the group. Finally, after almost five minutes of outright fleeing, the group happened upon a long hallway that terminated at three small service hatches. After making sure that all three hatches were secured and free of biomech presence, the group formed a defensive perimeter along the hallway itself; as if knowing they'd been thwarted for the moment, their pursuers pulled back. Kyle leaned against the wall next to her, panting for breath and sweating as he loaded a fresh magazine into his weapon. "Too damn close," he muttered. "Thank God the kids are still okay. You alright, Ashiya?" "Define ‘alright', if you would." She was similarly panting, her body trying to be rid of excess heat, and she mildly envied Kyle's ability to sweat. "If nothing else, I'm just glad the ‘mechs didn't attack the first group." She looked over the group of younglings, who were obviously terrified but resisting panic so far. "Now we just have to figure out how to get these young ones out of here." She turned towards the hatches. "One of them may lead us back near the command point, if the ‘mechs haven't infested them already." Apparently the Tirarnik soldier had come to the same conclusion, though unfortunately his copy of the station map did not include the service corridors. Thankfully he possessed a good sense of direction, which told him that the rightmost hatch would be the most likely candidate. "We need someone to check it, though," he continued, turning his gaze to Kyle. "And we all know how well you Humans do at getting through tight spaces, so I'm going to ask if you can handle that." Kyle nodded. "I'll do it," he said. "I'll need a light, though." "Take mine." The Tirarnik removed the small illuminator strapped to his uniform shirt and handed it to the Human. "And be careful in there. I don't think I need to tell you how much biomechs like lurking in places like that." "I know that from experience." He slung his weapon, watching as two others unlocked the hatchway and opened it. Ashiya felt compelled to lay a hand on his shoulder. "Be careful in there," she told him quietly. He patted her hand. "I will," he replied. "I promise." She watched uneasily as he disappeared into the darkened access tube. -- Come on, Kyle. Every hologame you ever played as a kid had you crawling through some kind of airduct. You ought to be used to it by now. Hell, maybe there's a crate to smash at the other end. It stank inside the maintenence tube; the foul odor of biomech flesh filled the air like a noxious fog. He couldn't hear them, though, and in these tight quarters he doubted even they could move around quietly; that at least gave him a small measure of comfort. He just had to hope that they didn't attempt to swarm him, since even reloading his weapon inside the confines of the tube would be a real bitch, let alone evading return fire.... Damn it, Aragones, just stop thinking and get things done. It was a long and lonely crawl through the darkness, though thankfully the flashlight the Tirarnik had provided him with did a remarkably good job at illuminating his way. He hadn't done this kind of thing in years, and he was starting to ache; he was going to need a nice hot bath after all this, provided he survived the whole thing. I'm getting too old for this shit, he decided. Ha, only 31 and I'm saying that already. Time to pack it in already, gramps? Not yet; there's a bunch of kids back there who need you to pull all your tricks out of the hat. He'd made it- by his own estimation- about six hundred meters when he came upon something interesting. An ordinary service panel was flickering, apparently attempting to reboot; the fact that it was both functional and receiving some sort of power gave Kyle the first bit of hope he'd had in the last few hours. Quickly, he bypassed the normal startup procedure, threw together a rudimentary operating protocol and input a string of commands to find out the status of the network and powergrid. "Ah, hell, what a mess," he muttered as he stared at the display. Several nodes of the network had survived the EMP blast, but all were functionally cut off from each other and the main network hub, making a full-out restart of the network impossible. Without those nodes talking to each other, rerouting power around the burned-out sections of the grid would take dozens of technician teams and hours of labor- something the ‘mechs were certainly not going to allow. Then he noticed that many of the network groups still functioning had secondary or tertiary connections to another primary computer terminal, which looked to be fairly close to where he was now- and therefore, close to the school and where the group was holed up. Trying to run half the station's power distribution on such a shoddy setup was any network engineer's nightmare, but time was of the essence and every extra bit of advantage could be crucial, so Kyle made quick note of the terminal's designation and location and moved on. He passed three more nonfunctional panels, a collection of power adapters and one network plug before he reached the end of the tube. He was immensely gratified to find that there were no branching paths; so long as they could hold both ends from intrusion, there was absolutely no way the ‘mechs could get inside. A quick peek through the hatch showed that, while dark, the hallway outside showed no biomech presence; he wasn't sure just where it was, but he found it likely that it was closer to the command point than his group's current hidey-hole, so it would have to do. He carefully resealed the hatch and clambered back on aching elbows and knees to report what he'd found. The Tirarnik male broke pretty much every rule of his species' relations with Humanity by literally clapping Kyle on the shoulder in congratulations. "Excellent work!" the lupenoid exclaimed. "We'll need someone skilled in programming and interfacing to handle reaching and using this secondary terminal, and several others as escort. Who can go?" Immediately, one of the other Kryyjh raised his hand. "I can," he announced. "I've been studying Alliance computer networking since I arrived on the station, and I have decades of experience keeping antiquated Kryyjh networks up and running. Some of them made this whole mess seem perfect by comparison." The reptile chuckled. "Let me do what I can to help." "Good. You're in. I'd like you to go as well, Human," the Tirarnik said, turning back to Kyle. "I can see you have technical expertise of your own and can handle that pellet-spewer you're carrying." Kyle gave a short nod of assent. "Count me in," he said. "Very good. And you, Second," the soldier continued, turning to Ashiya. "I'll need you to head up this squad while I escort the cubs back to the command point. As soon as the young ones are safely deposited, I will return to reinforce your group until you've done what you can." "Understood." Ashiya bowed her head and flexed her hood slightly. Satisfied, the Tirarnik chose five more volunteers to go with them; Ashiya quickly organized the new group, opting to wait and provide cover until the children had been moved into the maintenence tube before heading out. None of them knew this area of the station well, but they had a general direction to look in and an idea of what they were looking for, so it was only a matter of time and luck. Not that we've got much of either right now, he thought. Again there was that distant chittering and clanking, the ‘mechs keeping just out of sight as they tailed the group. We're moving at a good pace, at least, Kyle realized, pausing just a moment to cover yet another pitch-black hallway. Though ironically I'd be less worried if the damned ‘mechs weren't being so cautious.... Then the group came to a halt, and Kyle realized they'd reached their goal- not by some bright beam of light or giant sign, but by a single blinking green dot. A terminal in a darkened, abandoned security station was flashing a status light, indicating power and connectivity. All that would be needed was a restart. The male Kryyjh hissed something in approval in his own language, causing Ashiya to chuckle to herself, before rushing into the station and taking a seat at the terminal. As they moved in to cover him, Kyle leaned over. "What'd he say?" he asked her. "Apparently he still hasn't gotten used to Alliance technology having ‘Start' buttons." She chuckled. "Can't say I don't feel the same way." The male Kryyjh- one Line-Corpsman Hessirin Farhajah, as he introduced himself- quickly settled down before the console and brought it online. Icons flew back and forth across the display as he quickly ran diagnostics and sent out network queries; Kyle, who himself was no slouch when it came to interfacing, felt like a second-year student before a master. "You Kryyjh are starting to make me feel a little inadequate in the technical department," he murmured. The male serpent smiled. "Kryyjh education is amazingly efficient," he replied. "It is also a completely miserable experience in every other way. Now... hm." His lidless eyes glanced over the various status icons. "The EMP the ‘mechs detonated made a complete shambles of this network, but I do have to hand it to you Alliance people- you know about redundancy. I might be able to restart enough of the network from here to bring power and functionality back to usable levels, but it's not going to be a matter of just inputting a couple of high-level commands. I'm probably going to have to run half of the process manually, at least until I have the remote systems stable enough to take over the majority of the work. And that means I need cover from the ‘mechs." "We'll keep them off your back," Ashiya said, turning to direct the others into defensive positions. Kyle bent down to watch the display for another moment. "How long do you think it'll take you?" he asked the serpent. "I wish I could give an estimate. A lot of this is going to depend on luck, and how well I can react to what your systems throw at me." His scaled fingers flew across the display. "I see the work you did here on terminal 74-Alpha. Used to doing on-the-move coding?" "It's been necessary a few times. I try to keep sharp." "You did a good job. Stay here with me if you would; I might need your help." "Alright." Kyle set himself down in a half-crouch, leaning against the counter of the security station, listening to the soft taps of Hessirin's fingers against the display and the beeps it made in response. A glance upwards showed that all but one of the others were positioned at the primary entrance to the security station; that individual was near the maintenence hatches, probably as much as a last-ditch tactic to keep any ‘mechs who overran the rest of the group away from the tubes as to keep any ‘mechs from coming through the tubes. Kyle held no illusions- he and the rest of this group were expendable if it would help save the lives of the hundreds still trapped on this side of the station. Then a shout from Ashiya derailed his train of thought. "Incoming hostiles!" And by the sound of things, there were a lot of hostiles; apparently the ‘mechs had gotten some idea of just what the group was doing, or were simply tired of playing cat-and-mouse- but the wall of flesh and metal that charged down the corridor left no doubt that the ‘mechs were now absolutely determined to finish them off. Kyle wiped sweat from his forehead and forced himself to loosen his deathgrip on his weapon. Come on, Kyle, get your head together! he told himself. This isn't like last time, and you need to stop reliving the past! A quiet voice broke through his self-recrimination. "Mr. Aragones, I need you for a moment," Hessirin said. He tore himself away from the carnage to return to the male Kryyjh's side. "This node is refusing me deep-level access," he said. "Am I making this request incorrectly?" "...huh? What? Oh, no, no." Kyle forced himself to focus. "That's a legacy server, probably twenty years old or so. See the lower number on the end of the response protocol matrix? Outlying stations like this have to mesh obsolete tech with new. Separate the acknowledgement and query requests or else it basically gets confused." "I see. Nothing like a little added complexity to keep it interesting...." The Kryyjh spared a glance at the ongoing firefight not a hundred meters away. "I know you would rather be killing ‘mechs right now, Mr. Aragones. I feel the same way. But this task needs me, and I need you." "I know." Kyle sighed. "I just don't like feeling trapped." "Neither do I, I can honestly admit." He paused a moment, concentrating to send out a batch of multiple commands. A good number of red blips on the network display suddenly went yellow or green, and the Kryyjh flexed his hood, his species' equivalent of a satisfied nod. "Looks like we're making some progress here. Now it's going to get complicated, I'm afraid." He started tapping out and sending commands to entire server clusters; watching him do all this on the fly was making Kyle's head spin. He found himself glancing back at the corridor, which was still being held; the two-meter high wall of ‘mech corpses they'd accumulated acted as both testament to their abilities and barricade to further ‘mech encroachment. Kyle was just starting to feel as though they'd gotten through the hardest part... ...when a deep, bellowing roar let him know just how much of a remote chance that was. Something large, quadrupedal and very angry lurched into view in the corridor; from what little of it he could make out under the portable lights aimed at it, it had to be at least three meters tall, and was covered in thick armored plates that gave off a strange blue sheen. When Ashiya and the others opened fire on it, those plates sparked and hummed loudly. "Ah, hell," Kyle breathed. "Charged deflection plating. I wasn't aware the ‘mechs were using it as personal armor." Next to him, Hessirin let out a soft hiss. "I'll handle the console for now; they'll need your firepower." "Got it." Kyle ducked down against the wall of the security station, leveling his weapon at the monstrosity, which was methodically stomping its way through the pile of its compatriots and shrugging off their fire. The thing wasn't moving very quickly, nor did it appear to be armed- no doubt the weight and energy-consumption rate of those deflection plates were a severe offensive handicap- but if they couldn't bring it down before it reached the station, it could simply stomp them into oblivion. He shouldered his weapon, lined up his sights, waited for the thing to clear the hallway so that he could avoid any stray or deflected rounds hitting the other defenders, and then opened fire. Molecularly-condensed, tungsten-encased iridium caseless rounds, each one carrying enough kinetic force to go neatly through ten centimeters of plain steel plating, tore through the air. But the layer of charged particles over the armor plating were slowing the rounds too much, leaving them to ping harmlessly off the thick metal beneath. Kyle did his best to aim around the armor, but the ‘mechs had done an atypically competent job of ensuring coverage; what few rounds he could get in between the seams did little damage. He ejected a spent magazine and slid a fresh one home, loading a new round into the chamber, and wondered what in the hell he could possibly do to stop this juggernaut without the use of anti-armor weaponry. He could see the rest of the group lining up at either of the ‘mech's sides, still firing, while Ashiya was yelling something he had trouble hearing over the noise of their weapons. "Aim... same panel!" he could barely make out. "Weaken... single...!" It made sense. You could create a weak spot in any armor system if you simply caused enough stress on a single point. Kyle chose the largest plate he could see from his vantage point- a wide panel that served as a breastplate, of sorts- and began concentrating his fire on it; Ashiya quickly took his cue, maneuvering the remnants of the squad to either side of the security station and directing their fire to match Kyle's. Even despite its advanced shielding, the ‘mech monstrosity stumbled a moment as the torrent of destruction focused on it, before letting out a deep scream of fury and doubling its efforts, leaning into the oncoming rush of projectiles and energy as if bracing against the winds of a storm. It isn't working fast enough, Kyle thought. It's going to reach us.... *POP POP POP POP* Hessirin's pulse pistol joined the cacphony, firing nearly-invisible bursts of contained ultrasound energy. The ‘mech's breastplate- its charged field weakened under the intense onslaught- finally failed, losing its charge and then cracking under the withering fire. The creature wailed in anguish and reared back as its chest was torn apart, splattering noxious yellow blood and steaming bits of flesh everywhere... but still it pressed on. Just as Kyle was contemplating grabbing Hessirin's arm and pulling him out of the security station, the behemoth let out a third ear-splitting screech... and then collapsed, its heavy upper body thudding against the deckplating, spasming for a moment and then becoming still. Soft electric crackling came from its armor as the plating lost power and gave up its charge. The ‘mechs were not content to let them celebrate their victory. More of their soldiers swarmed through the hall as soon as their juggernaut was down, catching the defenders unprepared; outmaneuvered, the group retreated towards the security station, several of their number taking wounds from ‘mech weaponry along the way. With their advantage lost, Kyle knew it was a matter of time before they were overrun. "Hessirin...!" he shouted. "Give me just twenty seconds!" the Kryyjh responded. "I almost have it!" Indeed, it looked like several light panels were beginning to flicker on even as he spoke. But as a depleted-uranium spike lodged itself in the front of the station, Kyle forced himself to bite back a profanity and concentrate on loading his last magazine. Incoming fire tore chunks from the plastisteel barricade, forcing him and the others to duck down in order not to have their heads blown off. He answered their attack with carefully-placed bursts, painfully aware that after this magazine, he had only his sword to depend on as a weapon. Without lights he was having trouble even counting how many ‘mechs were left, let alone where to fire. Then, just as he'd emptied half his magazine, the lights snapped on in full force, making him wince and squint his eyes. Most of the ‘mechs, caught in the open, were completely stunned by the sudden illumination; the group took the opportunity to gun them down. Kyle's weapon ran dry with two more ‘mechs left to bring down- but just as he began to draw his sword, a pair of blasts from Ashiya's shotgun sent the creatures reeling back, falling to the deckplates. A stray shot had carved a furrow in the scales of her shoulder, just above her body armor, but she seemed none the worse for wear otherwise. The same couldn't be said for several others in the group, however; two had taken hits to their torsos, serious enough to require immediate medical attention, and most of the others had been hit at least somewhere. Then Kyle's breath caught in his throat as he turned back towards the security station. "Hessirin!" The Kryyjh male was slumped over the computer terminal, the desk beneath it streaked with blood. Kyle practically dove over the station's pock-marked wall, rushing to his side; as gently as he could, he pulled the reptile up and away from the desk. A lucky ‘mech shot had caught him in the base of his neck, cutting whatever the Kryyjh equivalent of the carotid artery was, and blood was pouring from the wound. Bloody smudges on the terminal's screen showed that he'd finished his work after being hit. Kyle pulled a nylon bandage from a pocket on his vest and pressed it against Hessirin's wound. "Stay with me," he murmured. Hessirin weakly raised a hand and placed it on his, smearing thick blood over his skin. "No time...." he rasped. "Networks are up, independently... go back, save who you can. Kill every last mech on the station." "No. I'm not going to leave you here to die." "My people called me worthless because... I couldn't create life. At least I'll die knowing... I can protect it." The reptile's hand patted his own. "Go... save every life you can. Make the ‘mechs pay...." He glanced over at Ashiya, who had come to crouch on his other side; her hood was lowered and her snout pointed downward- the Kryyjh expression of grief. He whispered something to her in their language, and she gave a quick nod and a one-syllable reply, reaching down to pat his shoulder. The slits of his green-grey eyes closed, and his body slowly went limp. Kyle lowered the corpse onto the floor, removing the now-bloodsoaked bandage and letting it fall from his hand. It's happening again, he thought, staring at the dead Kryyjh. People are dying and I can't do anything about it.... A gentle but firm grip on his shoulder broke his reverie. Ashiya stood before him at her full height, gazing down at him. "You did what you could for him, Kyle," she said quietly. "The ‘mechs are to blame for his death, not you." He closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. "I know," he murmured. She squeezed his shoulder. "Good. We need to vacate, now... stay with me." As it would be impossible to move the most severely injured through the access tunnel, Ashiya made the decision to bring them through the halls as quickly as possible; their severely depleted ammunition reserves would only be able to hold off a handful of ‘mechs at best, and half of them were too severely wounded to have any chance in melee combat. Kyle had never felt so vulnerable as he did at that moment, with only twenty-seven rounds and a sword to defend himself against who knew how many more ‘mech soldiers standing between them and safety. But if nothing else, he refused to let Ashiya down, and so he shouldered his nearly-empty weapon and carried on. The going was much faster with the lights back on, but he knew that the ‘mechs weren't far off, and wouldn't let a little thing like illumination stop them. When one of the wounded nearly collapsed from overexertion, Ashiya called for a moment's rest; Kyle took the opportunity to lean against the wall, wiping a sheen of sweat- a product as much of fear as of exhaustion- from his forehead. "We're more than halfway there," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "Good chance of us running into friendly forces...." His voice trailed off as he noticed a strange vibration coming from the metal beneath his hand- a rhythmic shuddering, almost like the beating of a heart, or the marching of feet. He looked down at the slab of metal his hand was resting on. A neatly-printed sign read, in both Galactic Common languages, "Maintenence Access Hatchway D-F-49". "Oh, shit!" he yelped. "They're coming through the walls- MOVE!" He'd gotten two backward steps away from the hatch when it banged open. Something practically flew through it, almost as big as he was, metal and exposed flesh gleaming in the light as it leapt at him- -and then his world exploded in pain. -- Ashiya had heard stories from other frontline soldiers about how sometimes, in the heat of battle, time seemed to slow down, dragging a single moment out into a subjective eternity. Despite numerous engagements during her career, she'd never experienced it herself, until now. She swore she could make out every detail of the assassin ‘mech as it stretched out in midair, one scythe arm drawn back, aimed at the stumbling Human's chest as he raised his weapon- too late, he would never get a shot off in time. Neither would she. Everything sped up again. Kyle screamed in agony as the scythe plunged through his chest at a downward angle, spearing through his armored vest as though it weren't there. The impact slammed him to the deckplate, pinning him down, splattering his blood across the cold metal and sending his weapon tumbling away; the ‘mech raised its other scythe to finish the job, screeching in triumph. *BOOM* The first shell took off that scythe at the elbow, sending ‘mech blood spurting through the air. The creature reeled, its screech turning into a bellow of pain; it turned towards her. *BOOM* Her second and last shell tore off the ‘mech's other arm at the shoulder, sending it spinning off of Kyle's unmoving form. She dropped the empty shotgun, coiled and leaped forward, pulling free the sword Kyle had given her; in one smooth motion, she brought the weapon around in an upwards swing, the incredibly sharp blade cleaving through metal, flesh and bone with seeming indifference. The attack very nearly cut the ‘mech in half from hip to shoulder, and what was left of it tumbled backwards to crash onto the deck, smearing its vile fluids across the metal. Clanking and screeching indicated that the ‘mech hadn't been alone. Ashiya swapped the sword to her left hand, seized Kyle's weapon from the deck and brought it up to aim at the hatch, where two more ‘mechs were scrambling to get out. She pulled the trigger, the weapon roared, and holes blossomed in the ‘mechs' bodies; three others joined in just as the submachine gun's magazine went dry, finishing off the small squad of biomechs. One of them slammed the hatch shut again and used the dismembered arm of the first ‘mech to jam its hinges. Ashiya let the projectile weapon fall to the deckplate as she rushed to Kyle's side. Though no expert in Human anatomy, she could tell that the scythe had likely missed his heart and lungs- but there was plenty of blood to indicate that he hadn't escaped with a mere flesh wound. She grabbed the scythe just above the end of its blade and, with a snarl of effort, pulled it free, letting it fall aside. "Kyle," she hissed softly. "Kyle, answer me." His eyes slowly opened, focused on her. He opened his mouth to say something- but all that came out was a strangled cough and flecks of blood, as his body began to shake violently and his skin began to lose its color. She lifted his head gingerly and looked into his eyes; his pupils were wide open, his gaze glassy and unfocused. She forced herself to think rationally. Shock? No- it's a serious wound, but not that serious. Assuming Human physiology isn't all that different from Kryyjh, most of his organs are probably doubled for redundancy, and I can't believe that anything critical would be so far below the ribcage.... It was then that she noticed that his body temperature was steadily rising, making him almost seem to glow to her heat-sense. Oh, no. For whatever bizzare reasons the ‘mechs did the things they did, some of their units exuded a highly-toxic substance onto whatever blades they were equipped with. It was a serious threat to the health of its victims, but especially so to the small percentage of those whose bodies had an allergic reaction, triggering anaphylactoid shock on such a scale that their immune system literally killed them through overreaction. Though she knew little about mammalian medical traits, this had all the classic symptoms. "Medic!" she called out. "He's been poisoned by the ‘mech! He needs a counterserum as soon as possible!" "Oh, hell." One of the other survivors- another of the equinoids whose species-name Ashiya still couldn't remember- knelt down next to them. "Ma'am... we don't HAVE a counterserum for ‘mech toxin. We've never been able to figure one out." "Oh no." She'd never even thought to ask; she'd simply assumed that, as far along as Alliance medical technology was, they'd have developed some method of stopping the toxin. Kyle's seizure was worsening, and his breathing was becoming hoarse and ragged. She could see panic in his eyes. "Kyle," she said quietly, unfastening his armored vest and pulling it open. "Do you trust me?" He managed a quick nod. "Then trust what I'm about to do." With a conscious effort, she extended her fangs, reared back and buried one of them into his shoulder, just below the collarbone; with the careful contraction of a muscle, she envenomated him. His expression dissolved into shock and confusion for a moment before he slipped out of consciousness completely. "Saints- what are you doing?!" the equinoid demanded. "Saving his life." She watched as the tremors that were wracking his body slowed, and his breathing became easier and more even. "We need to get him to medical attention now. Help me-" "We have incoming!" someone shouted. "Egg-sucking tail-chewers!" she swore, carefully laying Kyle back down before spinning around, sword held in both hands. At the end of the hall, a single ‘mech clambered into view, raised the cannon on the end of its arm- -and was summarily torn to pieces by heavy spiked rounds of some sort, fired from somewhere further down the next corridor. Ashiya almost fainted from sheer relief as a literal swarm of Vii'nev- all heavily armored and armed- stormed into the area. One of them, with a swath of gold cloth draped over its armor, rushed to Ashiya. "This one is called Jyiahal Vii'vii'asken'arvii," it- she- thought to everyone in the area. "Vii'nev reinforcements have now supplimented the station's defenders and are helping to eliminate biomech forces still aboard. The ‘mech dreadnought has been forced to disengage, and all exposed areas are sealed." "Thank the Spirits!" the equinoid shouted. "I don't think I've ever loved you carapaced ones as much as I do right now." That brought forth a chuckle from the Vii'nev, before she crouched down to examine the unconscious Human. "Friend Kyle is gravely wounded. What is his status?" Ashyia forced herself into a mindset of clincal detachment. "Anaphylactoid shock from biomech toxin. I've envenomated him to help offset the symptoms, but he needs attention immediately." The insectoid nodded. "Medical help is already on its way. Friend Kyle will be given top priority in treatment, and your other wounded here will be seen to as quickly as possible. A contingent will be left here for your defense, but we must move on." "Understood." Ashiya patted the Vii'nev's arm. "I think we all owe you quite a bit." "The Vii'nev are very protective of our friends and allies, friend Ashiya." The female insectoid gave her the mental version of a smile. "The one called Lisschek asks that I send his thanks to you as well. He will see you and friend Kyle as soon as he is able. At this moment he still acts as a relay for the Tirarnek Commodore and the Arc-Major." "Let him know he'll find me with Kyle." Ashiya let her body fold itself into an exhausted pile, next to Kyle's still form. -- "So you envenomated him as a time-gaining measure?" The physician- this one a Human female, dark of skin and rather short, and quite friendly and outgoing- gently spread a nanite gel over Ashiya's wound. "Yes," Ashiya replied. "Kryyjh venom is primarily a muscle-relaxant and immunosuppressant, and for some reason it has a slowing effect on the toxin itself. We know from our own encounters with the ‘mechs that it can help alleviate the worst symptoms of their toxin for a short time, at least long enough to get the victim to treatment. We developed our own counterserum from it, since we're not immune to our own venom's harmful effects." "I wish we'd known. The Alliance has never made any headway on solving that particular problem." "I wish I'd known that, as well. I'm sure all of the Kryjjh aboard the station would gladly give venom samples if you need them to produce your own counterserum. I'll do it right now, if you like." The physician retrieved a specimen cup, and Ashiya filled it with as much venom as she could, practically squeezing the glands dry. "That should be more than enough," the Human said, sealing the cup and placing it on a tray before calling an orderly to retrieve it. "I'll have that sent to the analytics office for immediate examination, and we'll schedule appointments with the other Kryyjh to collect samples from them. As for you, Line-captain, I'm placing you on official medical leave effective immediately. All your expenses will be covered by the Alliance until such time as you are back in full health." She smiled. "It's the least I can do given what you've done for the station." "I appreciate it." Ashiya slid off of the table. "Has there been a casualty report yet?" "A preliminary one." That expressive face became distant. "At least five hundred dead, hundreds more wounded. The ‘mechs made such a mess that it may take us weeks to identify some of the victims." She sighed. "But... it would have been much worse if not for you and all the others who volunteered to go in and do what you could." "It had to be done." That was all she could say about it, really... across the gaps of species, culture, thought processes, there had been a knowledge that the ‘mechs had to be stopped, that innocents had to be protected. She donned her robe as the physician entered her record into the system. "If you need anything else, Line-captain, simply call the office here," she said. "We know how to cut through the bureaucratic nonsense here." "I'll keep that in mind, thank you." Wearily she made her way out of the examination room, back out into the main lobby. To her surprise, all of Kyle's friends were there; Laou literally bounded out of her seat and rushed to give Ashiya a crushing hug. "Gah! Careful, Laou!" Khamen called out playfully. "She didn't survive the ‘mechs just so you could squeeze the life out of her!" "Settle down, big lizard," she replied with a teasing grin. "I'm not planning on harming my favorite Kryyjh in the universe." She released Ashiya and gently gripped her shoulders. "We've been worried about you, lady serpent," the ursinoid said. "I'm alright. Thank you," Ashiya murmured. She patted Laou's hands reassuringly. "It was a minor wound, it should be healed in a couple of days. I've been wanting to know how Kyle is." "He's still in the emergency room." Laou walked with her back to the seats. Ashyia took a seat next to Elmez'ki, whose severed arm was now neatly covered in a medical wrapping. "It'll be a couple days before they can grow me a replacement," he explained. "No rush. There's plenty of others with greater needs." The cetacean spared a glance down one of the halls, presumably where Kyle was being treated. "We did get word on Yurarand, too. They have him stabilized and he's expected to make a full recovery." Ashiya let out a soft sigh or relief. "That one's more of a hero than I could ever be. I don't think I could have run through those pitch-black corridors unarmed." "This one would not have you discount your own brave actions, friend Ashiya." Everyone turned as Lisschek followed his thoughts into the room. "This one would commend all who fought against the biomech threat aboard this station. There are many young ones whose lives are owed to friend Elmez'ki and friend Trihsken, due to their part in the defense of the school." The Vii'nev carefully crouched down near where the others were seated; the chairs hadn't been designed for his physiology. "Others did not fare nearly as well. The hive has learned that another station targeted by the ‘mechs has reported nearly ninety-six percent of its inhabitants as casualties." Ashiya winced, and next to her Laou let out a whimper of distress. "Love of the Goddess," she murmured. "Such massive loss of innocent life is tragic beyond description. The Rimworld Alliance has been dealt a harsh blow. It seems that the biomechs have chosen to evolve from a nuisance to a threat." Inasmuch as it was possible for an insect to do so, Lisschek looked utterly distraught. "Clearly the Alliance must reassess its defenses if attacks such as this are to be expected." He let out a soft chitter before turning to look at them. "However, this one did not come merely to relay such depressing news. Is there any word of friend Kyle's condition?" "Only that he's still being worked on," Khamen replied. "I imagine it'll take a while. That ‘mech toxin is trouble even in the best of cases, let alone when it causes a reaction like the one Kyle had." Silence fell over the group for a while, and Ashiya found herself fighting off sleep; the running and fighting had taken its toll on her. Lisschek must have noticed. "You appear exhausted, friend Ashiya," he thought to her. "Would you like to rest?" "I just... I want to wait until word on Kyle's condition comes in." "Then rest. We will wake you when it arrives." "That's right, lady serpent," Laou agreed, reaching over to pat Ashiya's neck. "You've earned a bit of sleep. We'll let you know, don't worry." "I... alright. Thank you." At Khamen's gentle urging, she placed her head on his shoulder, let her pupils close, and drifted off into an uneasy, fitful sleep. "Ashiya. Wake up." Trihsken's voice whispered into her ear. "The doctor is coming out." Ashiya jolted awake, blind for a moment until her pupils opened. The sight to greet her was that of a white-clad Gez'byran slowly removing a surgical mask and hood. Shi came to a stop in front of the group. "You are all here for Kyle Aragones?" shi asked. All of them made some sort of affirmative response. "Ah, good." A smile crossed the doctor's snout. "He's being brought to the recovery ward now. We expect him to recover fully." Laou's exclamation pretty well summed up what everyone was thinking. "Thank the Goddess!"