Starbright Deadly Cargo

By Mr. David R. Dorrycott

Felina copyright Mr. Freddy Andersson.

Used with permission.




Step One

 


Michael Aribis, one of PURPLE PASSION’s less by-the-book pilots, gently guided his compact, ailing cargo shuttle toward one of the ancient ships currently open repair bays. It had been bad enough that he'd awakened that morning with a raging hangover. Now to have half his propulsion system non-functional was the icing on his dubious cake. Michael brooded as he jockeyed his tiny craft into place. Everything had been going fine, he’d even arranged a date with a very attractive lemur dirt-side. Now that the cargo shuttles engines were acting up it looked like he’d be stuck aboard until they were fixed. If he got Damon Andrew’s it could take days. But Lord Luck was with him, his friend Kiko was on duty instead.


Glitch was certainly looking after him today he mused as he focused his attention on the task at hand. He toggled his transmitter to the bays standard frequency. “Repair Bay Two. This is pilot Aribis in cargo eleven. I’ve got a wonky port side thruster pack and I’m coming in on final now.”


Thankfully Kiko had been awake, allowing him to use their friendship to finagle a direct landing in the repair bay instead of catering to Marcus's instinctive love for protocol. ~Going Through Channels ~ would have involved spending half the remaining morning filling out forms before acquiring any repair slot. Then towing the disabled cargo shuttle from its normal portside landing slot to the starboard side where PURPLE PASSION’s joke of a repair bar was situated. A day long job normally.

     

Besides, he reflected. This way he'd be closer to Millin's quarters. That little fact would make it easier to unload the mysterious package that he was carrying. He’d been intercepted en-route to his shuttle by a very delightful lemur, the very one he had a date with. Michael had stowed the heavily wrapped bundle for later delivery, absently wondering what trouble would be coming with this delivery. He wondered again who the cute lemur who had sent the parcel had been. Fighting the on-set of the headache, he had forgotten to get her com-address -- though he had had the presence of mind to arrange a date for the following evening.

     

The repair bay's wide doors abruptly gaped ahead, so Michael marshaled his thoughts. It was a delicate business, landing the overburdened, under performing craft. Still it was well within his skills. He eased the complaining shuttle to the deck, shutting down his engines even as he slipped from the pilot's seat.


Kiko met the fox as he clambered awkwardly from the tiny craft's forward cockpit bubble, smilingly handing him a clipboard of blank forms as she passed. Michael's automatic glance back rewarded him with an unobstructed view of her pert rear. One outlined perfectly by her coveralls as she leaned over to retrieve the onboard data recording module. ‘Ah’ he thought appreciatively. ‘What a waste.’ Though he was well aware of the mouse’s sexual preferences, it certainly didn't stop him, or several others from wondering just what she'd be like in bed. After all he'd heard stories, and it was rumored she had a child somewhere. So she had to have, at least once. Entering the compact cargo office Michael dropped into a waiting chair, yawned, then began the long process of filling out forms. In quadruplicate.

     

A dozen yards away the tiny form of Kiko Nao Rhys leaned further over the uncooperative module. She had to pull it to find out what had gone wrong. However her experience told her it was an injector nozzle. Probably the entire cluster. Still, checking the records first could save her hours of trouble later if she was wrong. That kind of repair wasn’t terribly difficult she knew. Either the nozzles or a booster pump monitor -- one of the complex regulating mechanisms to the port engines --had failed. A simple twenty minute pull and replace in either case. Of course, that was in a fully stocked repair bay. PURPLE PASSION was anything but fully stocked. She might have to repair the device herself, or even craft one from raw stock. That could take minutes or days, depending upon where the fault lay and if they had the part. Finally Kiko turned toward her office, the heavy recording device now cradled carefully in her hands.


She had barely gone three steps when a thunderous blast slammed her full in the back, tossing her forward into the cold steel of the closed office door. Where the monitor went she would never discover. It simply vanished from her universe, or ended up in one of the piles of junk that they later spaced. No one would ever know. Stunned, she slid to the gridded metal deck, to be tossed aside again and end up slamming into a support structure. That impact drew a low groan of pain from her as a few ribs gave up the battle, shattered like old straw by a second explosion. Behind her the crackling of flames began to fill her recovering hearing. She turned her face towards the sound, to find a third of the servicing bay engulfed in dazzling amber and blue flame. Unnoticed, thick choking smoke whispered from her smoldering coveralls as the heat pulsed against her body.

     

"Fireball Five!" she screamed at one of the chamber's intercom units, wrapping her arms around the support beam that had stopped her original slide. It would now act as an anchor for her. Knowing what was coming she held on for her life. If she let go she’d probably orbit the planet below for years before her own orbit decayed. Her long dead body eventually incinerated by the planets protective atmosphere.

     

Michael had been catapulted from his comfortable seat by the blast, smacking his own head roughly against something hard, and very unyielding. As his eyesight greyed out he registered a sheet of flame washing across the thick poly-carbonate panes which fronted the office. ‘Kiko is still out there!’ That thought formed with difficulty, and he locked on it as a focus in his battle against a wall of darkness that threatened to overwhelm him. Dragging himself to a sitting position he massaged his head while he fought to keep conscious. He felt, more than heard the heavy landing bay doors began to open. Felt more than heard the scream of atmosphere as it raged through the gradually widening gap into space. Fear flooded his system like an icy waterfall as gel slowed mental processes told him what was happening.


Struggling erect, forcing his eyesight to clear he saw the doors inching open -- whips of smoke and blazing debris were rushing out into the vacuum. Kiko herself was nowhere to be seen in the chaos. Michael braced himself against the door jamb, pulling at the office door with all his strength. Amazingly it budged, opening a crack. Just enough to allow a howl of air to escape before the injured pilot's strength faltered and left him. Dropping to his knees he peered desperately through one of the door's staggered ports. He was of course trying to see what lay beneath the cloaking layer of vapor and smoke. It was no use though, as both lower panels were awash with a thin coating of rapidly crystallizing blood.

     

With an effort he’d never known that he could manage Michael jerked to his feet, staggering to the main armored glass window. He gaped in stunned amazement at what he saw. Kiko was running away from him into the now darkened bay, the ragged remnants of her coveralls wadded in her upraised hands. The mechanic seemed to be chasing a billowing cloud of green smoke. She was visibly fighting the failing pull of rapidly thinning atmosphere as it exited the depressurizing bay she ran through. Which meant that very soon she would be breathing vacuum, and that was never good for your health.

     

"Computer" he thundered, his own weakened voice sending lances of pain through his battered skull. "Repressurize the repair bay!"

     

-Command invalid- the computer answered. -Emergency voidance program Fireball Five running-. The reply was matter-of-fact and impartial in the computer's synthesized voice. And just as impartial it sentenced the friendly mouse to certain death.

     

Michael leaned against a thick pane, unwillingly watching the mouses desperate pirouette with death. Carefully he wiped blood from his eyes as he struggled to recall the exact code sequence. Something off-beat.... She’d told him once a few months ago. What was it? Suddenly it came to him. "Computer. Override code: Blue Moon" he rumbled anxiously. Aware that the heavily armored pane was bowing outwards in an alarming fashion, "Re-pressurize the bay and close the dammed outer doors. Now!"

     

There was a momentary pause. Michael opened his eyes slowly to a view of the now naked small mouse reaching down into a shimmering green cloud, her clothing still wrapped tightly around her invisible hands.

     


Kiko's desperately anchoring arms had shrieked in pain as the bay's atmosphere roared into deep space. Opening her mouth, she had answered its insistent call. Clearing her lungs to prevent their exploding in the coming vacuum. This wasn’t her first experience breathing vacuum. She could only hope it wasn’t going to be the last thing she ever did. In any case there was an emergency pod only a few meters away. In less than a minute she’d be safely protected from space and the pods machines working to repair any major damage to her lungs. Slowly the winds wild howl had faded away. Her clothing had ceased flapping as the last vestiges of a once-mighty gale whispered into near nothingness. Pulling herself to her feet through force of will alone she scanned the devastated bay before heading to the nearby emergency pod. All traces of the churning wall of flame had vanished, but her eyes had widened in terror at a weirdly billowing green cloud.

     

It had only taken seconds for her to realize what the cloud must be. Her suspicion was confirmed when a stack of metal stock began to melt at its touch. Hurrying she begin tugging off her still-smoking coveralls and the few bits of clothing underneath. If it was what she thought, she’d need all the protection for her hands that she could get. Even the simple process of undressing took longer than she had expected. Something kept catching at her back as she pulled the clothing from her diminutive form. Quickly wrapping her blood soaked work uniform around her hands as a hopeful token protection, she began half-staggering, half-running toward the cloud.

 

    

-Code accepted. Override initiated. Complying- the computer abruptly announced. Its tones were loud in the sealed confines of Kiko’s cramped office. Michael's head snapped up at the unexpected confirmation. He'd been lost in his thoughts as he had watched the naked woman’s slowing dance with death.

     

Straining his hearing the fox could just make out the howl of newly loosed atmosphere as it rushed out of a still-breached bay, whipping a few remaining loose objects with it in a battering rain. Its pitch gradually increased as the computer reversed its previous orders and began closing the heavy portal, at the same time continuing to flood the chamber beyond with fresh canned atmosphere. Michael’s concussed brain could barely make Kiko out in the haze that continued to assault his mind. Continued to try and force him into darkness. She was now hunched over the deck and gripping a glowing object as the remnants of the strange cloud dispersed away from her. He watched helplessly as she lifted the object, then turned to run for the closing outer doors and open space. As light as she was, he instinctively knew she would be swept into the darkness long before the panels finished closing.


In desperation he renewed his attack on the office door, quickly realizing that it probably wouldn't open fully until the pressure in the bay equalized. That, he knew with cold certainty, would be long after his friend's blood boiled in her veins. Moving a few steps back he drew his sidearm and pointed it at the glassite wall before him. His thumb kicked over the automatic fire switch at the top of the pistol's handgrip. Two dozen shots thundered in the confines of the small office as Michael emptied his weapon at the transparent barrier. He winced as razor sharp shards of splintered plastic rained back on him, torn from the port by the hail of bullets. Tasted blood as the heavy sound battered his already cracked skull.

     

Air now screamed through several fist-sized holes, the sound overwhelming everything else, but the window stubbornly held its shape. Shoving his weapon back into its holster Michael spun around, searching the small room for anything else he could use as a weapon. An emergency tank of oxygen, mounted high on the wall in case of accidental depressurization caught his eye. Michael wrenched the canister from its mounts and hefted it experimentally. Possibly a little light for the job he thought, but momentum might compensate for that. Holding the cylinder up as a shield, he turned and charged the spider webbed window.


Clearing the desk in a leap, the fox curled his body into a tight ball, his knees raised to protect his lower chest. The weakened panel exploded outward under the weight of that frontal assault, an outward gale of departing atmosphere snatching lethal fragments of the barrier away from the pilot. He struck the deck on one shoulder, losing his cylinder while himself skittering along the deck in a burst of sparks as he was pushed towards the closing doors.

     


Kiko had paused as near to the now closing outer doors as she felt she could safely venture. Even now escaping atmosphere threatened to tear the short fur from her body, and it was getting worse. So was the pain from her injuries. Vaguely she realized that somehow or other her prize had gotten away from her. It lay somewhere on the indistinct deck before her, again obscured by its clinging green cloud. She blinked back chemically-evoked tears, fighting for vision. She needed to be able to see what she was doing. Even though the green cloud, now thickening around the mysterious object, would quickly eat her eyes out if she miscalculated. She hesitated, weighing the cost of her actions. Thinking was getting hard, between her bodies need for oxygen and the pain now ripping up her arms. Yet the thought of permanent blindness, of never again seeing Dai Ti's smile or any of her friends faces sent a wave of pain through her very soul. Making her decision she stepped forward into the knee-deep cloud, searching with clenched teeth for the generator which she knew must be inside. Sight would be a small price for her friends lives. A very small price.

     

It took only seconds to locate the glowing mass, now superhot in the twisting coils of corrosive gas boiling away from it. Wrapping the final scraps of her uniform around it Kiko lifted the device out of the pool of steaming vapors as a twisting current of the bay's departing atmosphere again dispersed the cloud.

     

Time stopped for the mouse. Through raw senses, the mouseling felt Michael's computer override pumping fresh air into the now cold-as-death hollow of the bay. This was the last possible instant for her plan, as the bay doors would close much quicker than they had opened. She felt a powerful thrumming of the door mechanism through her bare feet, carried through the deck with increasing insistence as the atmosphere began to return. With a soundless scream of pain she bolted forward, each step sending even more racking pain through her abused form. Feeling the freshening wind pushing her towards open space she desperately jammed one foot into a tie down ring. As the great doors began to slam home Kiko pitched the glowing core of the bomb through the gap, out into open space. At the same instant she felt her ankle shatter as the wind wrenched at her, twisting her body around like a rag doll as it made one last attempt to send her into space along with the deadly bomb.

     

Behind the deadly device PASSION’s bay doors finally sealed. Exhausted, the mouse barely had enough energy to manage a single, short lived smile. Her ship was safe. Her friends were safe. It was all that mattered. Then the pain of her hands, ankle and chest overrode her terror and the little mechanic pitched to the deck unconscious.


     

Michael reached Kiko as she fell, throwing his body into a reverse slide that put him beneath her barely in time to catch her tiny form. His ears were still filled with the chaos of the emergency, though in the still thin atmosphere he could only just hear alarms, while the ships computer continued to flood the bay with life giving air. Somehow, he had no idea how or the memory of doing so, he had swept up a breathing mask in his careen across the chamber. Slipping it over his friends swollen, battered features he twisted the valve over hard. Oxygen flooded the mouses damaged lungs, answering her body's mute cry. Rising from the pool of blood he'd come to rest in, while taking great care not to jog the mouse more than he had too, Michael felt the frantic fluttering of her hearts through the thin material of his coverall. She was alive, but there was no telling for how long. Not without proper medical care. Turning his back on the disaster he started limping toward the nearest access hatch, and what medical help there was aboard the PURPLE PASSION.


As the bays pressure equalized with the rest of PURPLE PASSION its inner bay doors nearly burst open. Fantus Millin exploded first into the smoke-painted room. He was at the lead of a small rescue party consisting of whomever the ferret had managed to grab on his way. Michael gratefully passed across his charge into the massive catsect Felina’s gentle embrace, then sat down hard. His headache had been mild compared to the new pains he'd traded it for. He hacked raggedly, while absently brushing glassite fragments from the thin collar of his flight uniform. Right now, the exhausted fox simply couldn't cope with one more thing.

 


Many hours later, after the fox had been released by Medical. Having been treated for his own injuries, his friend Fantus found him sitting in Kiko's room. Michael was holding the last bitter dregs of a cup of coffee in one bandaged hand while holding a framed photo in another. Fantus settled on one corner of the neatly made bed, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Well, she'll live Mikey. But it'll be weeks before she fully regains her eyesight" he reported. “It’s her arms Deft’s worried about. Whatever it was it ate the bone, at least up to her elbows Mikey. Maybe further. Deft’s been injecting her with things to stop the destruction, but it’s not looking that good right now.”


Michael grunted, not looking at his life long friend as he mentally relived the morning's events. Marcus had demanded a full report. Aside from the loss of Kiko's services, the explosion had totally destroyed the PASSION’s starboard injector systems. That meant that their ship was effectively dead in space, unless they wanted to blow their cover and use the core’s hidden engines for movement. Otherwise they were unable to move. Not until replacements could be secured or cobbled together. Considering their current balance sheet things were already tight. Unused to such emergencies, their captain had a nasty habit of dealing unpleasantly with the bearers of bad tidings. Frankly, the silent fox had had little stomach for what his captain had demanded. He had pointedly ignored the command to appear on the bridge.


Millin tried again. "Look Michael. You couldn't know that package contained a bomb. It was dumb luck the engines acted up when they did. Dumb luck that she was hurt. But if things hadn't happened as they did we'd both be dead. Anywhere in the main bay and that bomb would have taken out at least the middle cores double hull, along with at least one internal bulkhead. Maybe several. Everyone might have all died!" He paused, searching for words. "At least we can start working on finding out who sent it. Someone evidently doesn’t like us much."

     

Michael ignored his friend, instead apparently inspecting the two framed pictures on Kiko's night stand. One of Dai Ti was currently in his hand the fox noticed, the silver furred rabbit smiled provocatively back at the viewer. She was barely wrapped in a frilly black lace nothing, and looked ready to remove that at a word. He could see that the photo had been taken in Kiko’s rooms, on the bed he was currently sitting on.

Fantus, still standing by the bed, shook his head worriedly. Michael was taking things hard and he wasn't saying anything. Both very bad signs. Kiko was a friend to both of them, a drinking buddy who enjoyed getting them out of trouble as much as they liked getting her into it. Both considered her a sister, and someone had almost killed her. He kept his own council about what he knew of her religion. Kept his own council on how strict its demands were. Unsure what to do further he reached past the brooding fox to pick up the other picture. It was an indoors shot of Kiko in a frilly dress and impractical huge hat. She was hugging some lanky, near furless tiger swathed in an impossibly long, multicolored scarf. From the looks, they were on a set. Not any place natural. Both were laughing. Millin gently replaced the photograph on the table with a soft click. Funny friends she has he mused, glancing back at Michael.

     

Michael carefully set Dai Ti's picture down, closing his eyes in pain. "I'm...really not upset" he managed in a drawn voice. "As soon as we can, we'll grab some help and head back dirtside. We'll be needing a new pair of fuel pumps and at least one regulator in a hurry. That's certain. Along with the injectors. We also have a little unofficial business to take care of. Assuming that is, that someone's stupid enough to keep a date. Or curious enough to want to hear what I might have to say about what happened up here."

     

Millin nodded. Michael was thinking again, planning again. That was good for everyone. Except whomever had sent that bomb.


"Seg, Soosan, maybe Dulas. Not Felina, she’s way too obvious. A lot of it depends on who's off duty and how Marcus sees things. If I can convince him it's not a vendetta, but that we have a problem we have to nip in the bud... I think Kiko mentioned she thought that Dai Ti was in the area. That much I think, from what I was able to pick up off the computer records, I can get The librarian to contact her for help. Once we're down." He retrieved the picture and inspected the rabbit's deep grey eyes uncertainly. "I. For one, do not want to be anywhere around when she sees Kiko. Damn in, we both love this rabbit. It’s gonna be hell when she has to choose, and I wouldn’t hurt Kiko for the universe."

     

Millin stepped beside the mouse’s bed, taking his friends hand gently. Tugging lightly he got the fox to stand, then quietly he led him from the room. As he left he switched off the lights, remembering that Kiko always shut off her lights. It was a thing with her. A drink would help them both, give the healing factors that Deft had injected the fox with time to finish their work. That, and to plan serious revenge. As they left his nose caught a faint hint of perfume that lingered behind, warm in the darkness. Dai’s perfume he suddenly recognized. As if the rabbit already knew and was here, waiting.






Dai Ti



She studied the message from The Librarian with foreboding. Passed on to her from Michael, and without comment. This was unusual for The Librarian as usually the fox’s letters were filled with the events he and his little group kept getting into, along with terms of endearment that always tugged at her heart. And The Librarian couldn’t help but add little notes to such things. Instead, it was a very simple message giving nothing more important than a planets name.


Shutting down her communications gear she turned to look out her ships own cockpit, staring at the night black Pyuian ship she’d just been a visitor of. Her plans were nearing the point where she could inform Pyuian as to the location of a missing transport, but not just yet. It never felt right working with Pyuian, but the ship was headed for the Imperium, and theat would be a fate worse than slavery. Shaking with relief at having gotten off a slave ship still free, Dai Ti consoled herself with the knowledge that everyone aboard that transport was already a slave. Legal property of the people she had just left. Legally bought, and paid for. But she still had some memories of her previous life. Of having been a slave, and what it had been like. Yet it was a life she would choose, when the other choice was to be served at a Welcon victory banquet. As the main course.


Her people wanted Pyuian shut down forever. To this end they sometimes seemed to work with the slavers, though almost every such partnership ended badly for the Slave Clan involved. In one way or another. It was that they were Galaxy wide, accepted with open arms in the systems that had legalized slavery. And there were more systems that had legal slavery than there were that didn’t. Many, many more systems.


It was a dicey situation, and in her heart she knew where she wanted it to end. There were limits to what she’d give up for her dream. Activating her ships navigation computer she entered the data. Minutes later she was accelerating hard towards the brown giants gravity wall.


Behind her the ship she’d just left also began to move. It however turned to another course, another destination. Dai Ti, Investigations Officer, was one of the criminal syndicates better contacts. One they dared not expose. Not just yet. Or so they believed. They had no idea that the White Force agent was working to maneuver them into an impossible position. She was so obviously corrupt after all, why would she ever turn against them?


So little did they understand the ways of White Force, and their agents.


 



Dirtside



Several hours later Fantus Millin Fantus and his battered partner Michael Arbis were finishing preparing their deception. Various bits of a medical kit were spread about the dingy motel room they had taken. Finally Fantus completed adjusting the ornately constructed bandage, stepping back to study his work with the critical eye of a master craftsman. "I think it'll pass Michael" he announced in dubious tones. "Then again, she might be a master spy. Not just your run-of-the-mill girl with a bomb. Spies! Brrrr! They're always harder to pull things over on. Easier to just kill them and leave it at that."

     

Michael Arbis scooted uneasily along the edge of the bed, trying to get a clearer view of his reflection in the room's sole mirror. He grimaced at what he saw. One heavily shrouded arm secured in a sling, the other hand lightly bandaged, and with his still aching head wrapped in lightly stained linen he appeared to have only recently returned from hell. “Even Dai” he asked, practicing sounding like a man with a damaged throat.

     

Millin reached forward to adjust the fox's neck brace. "Even Dai, if it comes to that my friend. To protect the family. Even Dai.” He moved a bandage just a touch. “I don't think she'll notice the com gear packed in there, so I can talk to you through the bone conduction-speaker above your right ear. Just don't forget yourself and answer me if I do! If your date is what we suspect, you'll be in a very risky situation." He gave the apparition of near death a friendly pat. "J.P and... No, he’s gone isn’t he? Sometimes I forget. Soosan and I have to be able to follow you wherever you go, right?"

     

Michael coughed nervously, the sound a deep rumble in his grey chest. "I don't see why you can't just use the homer implant Deft put in my side last year. As for your little girlfriend, this isn't going to be easy. It takes a light touch and I'm not sure I can manage that right now. All things considered."

     

The Ferret shrugged and preened. It was after all, his plan. "Voice contact is more valuable and you know it. With a fixed locator transmitter you can't pass on messages. Things like ‘gee, a gun? I’d never have thunk it.’ Just don't worry. Soosan will be on a continual low flyby and I'll be on the ground on one of the turbo cycles."

     

Brushing the thick mop of hair back from his eyes the fox took a deep breath before answering. “Yeah, but Soosan isn’t exactly the fastest member of Passon’s crew. Sloths are by nature slow after all. I’d rather have Yano up there. But we both know how she feels about violence. Felina would have been our best choice, but we don’t have a flyer big enough for her.” He sighed in defeat. “Okay, better get this show on the road then.” Walking to the door he looked once out the rooms cracked window, as if he could see the Passion in orbit, then started on his way to the distant cabaret -- and his date with danger.


 


















Dai Ti



Dai Ti eased her sleek launch into the PURPLE PASSION's orbital pattern, coasting unpowered toward the massive, hulking, disaster of a conglomeration of parts trader. As her trim vessel arced aft, moving around the spacecraft's wedge shaped nose the rabbit leaned forward into the curve of her canopy, seeking to make out the flickering yellow outline of docking bays. What greeted her piercing gaze came as a shock. Fully half of the massive craft's starboard navigation strobes and running lights were dark. There was no sign of life or motion on the ship's confusing topography.

     

To the casual observer it looked as if the crew had simply forgotten to activate their navigational systems. Dai’s extensive knowledge of spacecraft and the rules of space, particularly while in planetary orbit, told her differently. Navigation lighting was a critical factor in travel in orbits. Running lights were fully automated in everything but warships. For that many systems to be off-line there must be considerable damage aboard the drifting ship. It also explained the high orbit PURPLE PASSION was currently settled in.

     

Michael's second message had been vague, as if the fox was rushing things to send any message before he was discovered, or needed elsewhere. He had only outlined that a bomb had exploded aboard, then the link had been abruptly broken. That there was no apparent damage to the ship's star-pitted alloy skin indicated to the rabbit that any possible explosion had been internal, and had probably done extensive damage to the PASSION’s systems. Probably, she reasoned as she coaxed the launch in close to the curving side of the ancient ship, the force of the blast had turned inward. In such a complex miss-mash of pods, tanks, tubes and such there would have been an awful lot of casualties. Even through her calloused soul a sudden lance of fear struck her. Michael was apparently well, but Kiko’s work area was the starboard side. For the first time she realized that her games with the mouse had sometime ago moved into a different area. “Fargs” she whispered. “Don’t tell me I’ve gone and really fallen that far in love with her. Not now.”


Dealing with Pyuian she knew, was astronomically more dangerous when one was in love. It gave them a hook, should they discover it. She might have to turn the entire project over to another agent. Who would have to start almost at the behinning.

     

A dimly lit, a thirty-foot wide yellow hexagon Dai Ti had been seeking suddenly came into view. Steering rockets brought her ships tail around so the delicate little ship pointed in the proper direction. Dai frowned, for uncharacteristically, the heavy outer doors of the bay were already gaping wide. A pale, cold blue light spilled from the chamber beyond. Retrieving the helmet of her spacesuit from its place on her rarely used co-pilot's seat, Dai carefully locked it into place on the suit's bulky shoulder yoke. No point in taking chances. If the Passions control systems were weakened or compromised, it was best to play it safe until she was well within the double hull. Air hissed in her ears, which complained for being bent unnaturally within the confines of the plastic and metal globe.

     

With practiced skill the rabbit brought her small ship down onto the cushioned deck. Her arrival was a second shock. Around the fringes of the vast chamber a scattering of ancient Tiger fighters were being automation-loaded. Worse, they were being loaded with military class weapons. She stared numbly as a cybernetic crawler trundled forward, to wedge a state of the art external pulse cannon's module under a fighter. One which currently hung from ceiling-mounted launch racks. A wash of sparks rained down from the points at which the little device's welding arms labored at attaching cables and struts to the sleek weapon.

     

Dai loosened her seat harness, her eyes still on the mechanical bustle which surrounded her. By themselves, the two-seater fighters meant nothing. Tiger J’s were readily available on the surplus market. Had been for over a generation. They were available by the same principles which allowed private industry to obtain declassified warships for use as armed cargo haulers and corporate yachts. These state of the art munitions however were another matter. Those could only be found on the black market.

     

A flash of suspicion caused Dai Ti to stumble as she picked her way back out of the cramped cockpit into the main body of the launch. Her unexpected motion caused the craft to buck slightly on its spring loaded landing legs, and the rabbit grunted in pain and annoyance as she barked her shin against a projecting stanchion. She had answered Michael's distress call primarily because the few details he'd given of the explosive device had mirrored the known facts regarding a series of terrorist attacks she'd been following. Though her work to date had been primarily planetary enforcement, she'd long studied the terrorist networks, a concession to her compulsion for the advancement of her plan. Bombers, like petty criminals, had their own, individually distinctive modus operandi.

     

It had taken a few hours to piece together the group in question's trademark. They uniformly used a superhot corrosive generator hidden within an explosive block. The theory behind this type of explosive, originally created for use in the First Industrial Uprisings and long since banned under treaty, was lethal simplicity in itself. Known as ‘Ship Killers’, the bombs functioned best in outer space. Their outer sheath of explosive detonated, releasing a rain of embedded chunks of shrapnel. At the same time the explosion opened its inner core, releasing a highly corrosive mono-chemical. This instantly vaporized on contact with any atmosphere, or any lack of atmosphere. Detonated anywhere near an outer hull, a Ship Killer could eat through to the vacuum of space in a few minutes, dooming all aboard.

     

There had been no doubt in her mind of the device's origins. Michael’s terse description had instantly determined her course of action. That the investigation would also offer her an opportunity to see both the fox and the mouseling had clinched the rabbit's decision. She keyed her launch's outer hatch control, feeling the compact servo motors inside the hull whirr into unseen life at her touch. A faceted rectangle popped slightly outward to clear the locking pins, then swung upwards. Dai stepped gingerly out into the bay.

     

One of Passions many two-tiered carts moved past Dai, both shelves were loaded with laser guided space to ground missiles several generations old. One corner of her mouth grimaced in thoughtful speculation. This was going beyond the point of no return. If she’d had half a brain the rabbit knew that she should have turned her tiny ship around the moment she'd noticed the pulse cannon. Ignoring her grave situation Dai skirted another munitions loader as it thrust up out of the deck. Forming a plan as she walked, she headed for the bay office airlock and a waiting crewman. Unfortunately, saving her own pelt wasn’t that simple. True, her situation with PASSION’s Captain had finally devolved to a simple business arraignment, but there were several people aboard who had gone out of their way to help her. Not to mention her main problem, that she’d apparently fallen hopelessly in love with one of them. And had serious interest in another.


Dai had her ambitions true, all her kind did. It was the only proven way to remain sane with most of the Galaxy hating them. Though in the rabbits place hardly any of them were exactly legal. In fact more than a handful were defiantly illegal. She also had friends aboard this ship. Turning them in by-rote would have been hard -- having to coolly consign Kiko or Michael to the wrath of the authorities, or blood soaked knives of Pyuian assassins, had made it an unacceptable option. Seeing them on a slaver’s block if a Pyuian cell got their hands on them was completely unacceptable. Not that Dai gave a damn about the rest of Passion’s crew. But those two were different. Very different. She made her decision then. Pyuian had to go. At least those she had any contact with.

 

As she stepped into the small airlock compartment, Dai mentally reviewed the few notes concerning the Passion that she'd picked up from the official reports. Like all Free Traders, a few items didn't jibe. For one thing there was the Captain, whom she knew in more than a friendly way. She had met him when she had dropped Michael and company off at the spaceport, back on Hifa. While Marcus Grandell was male and a bear there was little other similarity with the original captain profiled in her reports. Evidently something had happened prior to the ship's arrival on Hifa. Possibly a mutiny, accident or simple natural death. By normal shipboard line of succession a relative would have stepped into the slot. She mentally kicked herself for not checking that possibility before. For letting her hormones make decisions better left to her brain. At the time it hadn’t seemed important. That was a mistake she’d never make again.

     

Rolling this possibility over in her mind the rabbit scowled again. Marcus was a gambler and a bit of a loose cannon, which made her present situation less than ideal. If he were to suspect that she was more than she’d let him know, her near future didn't bear close consideration. Not many Free Spacers had any love for White Force agents. Even less for ones who happily walked both sides of the law. Emerging into the bay's small office she struggled out of the clinging spacesuit, secured it in a waiting rack with help from the waiting mole. Thanking him, she began the very long journey to the freighters main bridge.

 


Marcus Grandell had a knack of combining truths and half-truths -- or of spinning outright lies -- which had always served him and his deceased brother in good stead. One of his more accomplished tricks of the trade was in knowing when to avoid too much detail, letting the simplicity of his presentation carry him through to the end he desired. Another was when to give the hard truth.

     

"So you see," he announced in a confidant, even tone. "The device ate through the bay's primary inner wall and damaged some of the major systems control conduits. I have the crew stringing new lines, but we're stranded here until replacement parts arrive. I have several teams planetside, picking up the needed components. Once they return we'll be leaving the system. We have a consignment of industrial bauxite to pick up, so time is critical. By the way, congratulations on your promotion."

     

Turning to face Dai Ti the captain put on his best poker face. He needed it. The ursaroids eyes wandered up her flawless legs, across the taut swell of her half-fastened tunic, and lingered on the impressive display of cleavage. Memories of past encounters before he’d become Captain filtered through his mind. Damn, he thought distractedly, it's hard to believe that she's wasting herself in security -- even if she's reportedly one of the best in this sector. She looks more like a high class bar girl than a security investigator. He of course, believed her to be a simple sector security agent.


Dai Ti unhurriedly consulted her notes in silence, seemingly oblivious to the captain's interest. Satisfied with the way her notes were adding up, Dai accessed the tiny portable computer she'd brought with her and began cross referencing data. Contrary to appearances, she was well aware of the effects of her attributes on Marcus. She was also keenly aware that she was barely skirting the fringes of the taller male's control. Still, the tactic worked as she'd intended. It effectively kept his mind on her and away from the fact that she must possess a fairly damning knowledge of the ship's true situation. Assuming she wished to leave the ship alive, it was probably a good idea to continue the distraction.

     

Her computer beeped softly, its intricate comparison of files completed and duly flagged for her attention. Endless eyes inspected the tiny unit's findings. As she'd expected there were no surprises. "It's Tar'sh all right," she murmured, her voice fixed in its most husky tones. "The big question is, why they're out here...and why they would target an.... independent trading ship.” The rabbit kept her questioning glance at Marcus within the curious-but-bored range she'd observed in other, more jaded investigators. Disinterest often opened doors, and she had noticed that the bored, disinterested security officers waiting for their pensions to kick in frequently got the most spectacular leads. Not that they necessarily wanted the added aggravation. "Tell me Captain, are you carrying any special cargo at the moment?"

     

Marcus's hackles raised minutely, twitching to an abrupt half-erect as his willpower exerted itself. He shook his head and managed a shrug. "Nothing. You can check the cargo bays yourself. As I say, we're on our way to pick up a load of refined minerals. Operating this far out in the system and with a war going on, most clients hesitate to trust particularly valuable cargoes to independents." Something half-formed at the back of Marcus's mind, but Dai Ti's distraction tactics worked as intended. The nagging idea failed to gel. "What will you do now?" he finished.

     

The rabbit secured the terminal in a pouch hanging from her belt. So far, so good.

     

"I'll need to personally inspect the damage, with your permission. After that I move planet side to pick up the trail. With any luck it's not yet cold." she offered, mentally adding 'And that's where Michael and Kiko will be.'

     

Marcus gestured to the door, which silently slid open as the mechanism sensed the motion. "Portside repair bay. If you have questions, ask Damon Andrews. He'll be heading the repair party."

     

"'Andrews'" the name came back bearing a distinct but faint trace of disappointment. A self-centered stubborn mule who thought he was the Gods greatest gift to women. "I'd rather talk with your other master mechanic. Rhys, I think the name was. We know each other from your last visit to Hifa. Aside from her background in mechanics, she'd be more able to get into the small places where anyone else would have to use a probe. I'd get more from her."

     

Marcus's face fell. Delivering bad news had never been his strong point. "You mean, you hadn't heard? One casualty, and it was Kiko. She's in sickbay now, but Jeffary doesn't hold much hope of a recovery. Or even of being able to stabilize her system. There was extensive physical damage."

     

Dai Ti's expression was almost a physical blow. Marcus arched an eyebrow as he half-turned. Obviously there was more going on beneath the surface than a simple debriefing. He watched the rabbit's hasty departure. Unpleasant as the thought was, it might possibly be as well that the mouse might not recover. From a cosmic viewpoint, at least. It would seal a potential information leak before it could add to one which had somehow evaded his attention. A Hyperion Security Officer shouldn't have appeared so quickly after the explosion. From what he'd seen of his visitor, Marcus had found himself desperately afraid that she might get straight to the heart of matters. He wasn't yet prepared to deal with that. Still, Kiko was skilled beyond just tinkering entropy worn fighters back into life. Her loss would be a major setback for the entire ship.


And she was very popular with a certain crowd. Which included the elusive, and critically needed Librarian.

































Dirtside


     

Far, far below the orbiting ship Michael spotted his quarry almost the instant she floated through the darkened glass double doors. Her dress, what there was of it, commanded attention. Silver on black it drew light and cast it back in a dazzling array which easily defeated the subdued light of the club. The star-knight didn't care for the impression he got. That dress was impossible not to notice, even out of the corner of a disinterested eye. It was obviously worn for other than aesthetic reasons. Easy to see he concluded. She wants someone to keep track of her. This is going to be dangerous...

     

The fox pulled himself to his feet, counterfeiting considerable pain and battle damage. With an unseen but presumably keenly interested back-up team, he mustn't get sloppy now.

     

The seemingly boneless lemur, abruptly confronted by a ghost that rose up from the low table came to a slightly awkward halt. She had plainly not expected the fox to keep the date he'd made the morning before.

     

"Sorry to be late. Hope you don't mind the bandages. We had an accident aboard the ship" Michael explained, unconsciously pitching his voice to be picked up by the microphone concealed in the wad of

bandages massed around his left shoulder.

     

"Er...of course not...er..." the other managed, a half-solidified look of concern in her large eyes.

     

Fickle, the fox mentally chided. Can't even remember a simple thing like a name.

     

His face mirroring innocence, he extended the lightly bandaged hand by way of a reminder. "Michael Michael, transport pilot aboard the free hauler PURPLE PASSION, ma'am. And you?"

     

Blushing slightly, the lemur snickered. Michael wasn't sure if the blurted laughter carried a note of panic or not. "Tamia Tarshin. Redball Delivery driver."

     

Michael held his breath as he considered the situation. If she was lying, she was good and, more importantly, she was fast. That either indicated a professional, or someone who'd been gulled into handing over a not so innocent package. Better to play this as a game of double-cross than to walk into a vorl trap with his eyes closed. He winced as he shifted position in his chair.

     

"My shuttle lost control as I was landing and crashed in the cargo bay. It exploded as they were taking me to sick bay. The crash must have created a leak in the fuel system."

     

"Goodness!"

     

"A lot of the electrical systems were damaged in the explosion. Our captain says it'll probably be a couple of weeks before we can have full engine power back, so I was sent down here for medical attention. We're also looking to replace a few of the casualties. We lost several good people. Friends."

     

Ice momentarily crept into Tamia's slit eyes. The captain of the orbiting ship must be a complete idiot not to have recognized acid damage, and the repair team should certainly have realized that this was more than a simple fuel explosion. Possibly the near-incandescent wash from the rupturing fuel cells on the shuttle had neutralized the acid before it had fully escaped. Or, she decided, this could be a trap. Better to play Michael along and see what information she could gain, before making a definite move. To all appearances the device had still surpassed the expectations placed on it. Taking out the Ferret and the unwitting deliveryman would have been enough of a start. Actually crippling the mothership was icing on the cake.

     

Coaxing a reluctant tear into the corner of one eye, she allowed her shoulders to sag a sympathetic inch. With a near-derelict ship overhead and locked in orbit, the news she should need would doubtlessly be on the televisor networks. It was time for her to personally tie up one loose end.

     

"I-I'm so sorry," she cooed. "I wish I could help. That's the way I lost my Father, a shipboard explosion. Would you like to take a walk, until the kitchen opens up for dinner?"

     

Michael, with the skill of a master poker player had caught the subtle signs that the other was spinning an intricate web with her words. Heavy hearted, he realized that she was deeply involved in the 'accident.' The offer of a quiet walk could only be a trap, and that implied that he wasn't the only one at the table who had unseen friends.

     

"Why not. I hope you aren't in a hurry. I decided to leave the cane behind. It gets in the way."

     

Favoring her victim with a pleased, seductive smile Tamia stood. "I'm sure I won't mind. If you get tired, just let me know."

     

Michael stood slowly. Fully two heads taller than the diminutive female, he was fairly certain that she had deliberately been responsible for the explosion, and Kiko's mutilation. But he had to have absolute proof before he could act. Offering his unencumbered arm he managed a thin smile.

    

"Shall we go?"

































     




Dai Ti

     


Dai Ti stared dazed through the ICU's broad glass viewing window, looking at a tiny figure caught in the unfiltered glare of half a dozen generator-driven emergency lights. Kiko was the only patient in the neat, wide chamber.

     

"Friend of hers?" came a soft voice. Dragging her eyes from the compact, deathly still form, the rabbit found herself face to face with a female lynx in medical white, the blue and green worked emblem of a military trained doctor on the lapel of her lab coat. Along with another, more telling badge. That of a Class eleven sniper.

     

"Lt. Major Jeffary Deft, in charge of the patient. If you want to visit her put these on." The medico indicated the armful of starched white clothing held by a small female mink, one wearing the simple green of a nurse, who was standing beside her. "Just don't expect answers. Or stay too long. She's borderline as it is. I’ll probably loose her before morning.”

     

The rabbit accepted the proffered clothing and clumsily tugged it on over her uniform, the mink quietly helped as best she could. It was more than a snug fit, and the papery thinness of the fabric made easing the tunic into place a painstaking procedure.

     

The physician waited patiently as her rabbit visitor struggled to secure the sterile suit. The velcro fasteners hadn't been intended to restrain anything on the line of Dai’s chest and threatened to surrender at any moment.

     

Millin had given ample warning of Dai Ti's visit, and of the fact that any attempts at forestalling her visit to the patient would probably result in considerable damage and risk to life and limb. Even so, the lynx had no intentions of leaving her unattended with a critically injured patient.

     

In a few moments the other's ample charms were passably concealed. The lynx smiled to herself as she led the way toward the door to ICU. Even sheathed in a sterile suit, the rabbit managed to project a strongly female essence. One which was mildly annoying in its persistence.

     

"She can't hear you," she cautioned the rabbit. "I have her sedated to the point of a mild coma. Otherwise, the pain would have driven her mad, or I'd have had to overload her system with pain blockers. In its current state, I doubt that her body could have stood either for more than a few minutes. Besides, if she's running at quarter speed I have an edge if I have to go in fast for some emergency."

    

Dai Ti nodded in agreement silently, her mind awash with whirling images and questions. On her previous visit to the Passion, only several weeks prior, she had spent more than some small time alone with the mouse. Still the rabbit had at that time considered the other only a close friend. A close friend one could share pleasure with, but still nothing more. So what were these feelings churning inside her? It wasn't as if she was really that deeply in love with the petite muridae. Was she?


Stepping in close to the medical couch she stared down at the mouseling's still form. Even close to death Kiko's exciting scent fought the sterile tang of the sickbay, bringing a twitch to Dai Ti's keen nose. The rabbit's hand slowly ground into the immaculate side table as she regarded the still form before her.

     

Swathed in layers of saline soaked bandages, with a baffling meshwork of tubes and wires emerging from her torso and extremities the mechanic resembled a mummy. Carefully the doctor stepped close.

     

"Truth. How bad?" The question came in a low voice. One which fell just short of being threatening.

     

Jeffary flipped through the chart clipped to the foot of the couch with powerful magnets, then glanced at the tense Security officer. She recognized the onset of an emotional collapse when he saw it, and the rabbit was clearly operating several notches above her peak capacity. If this was just the result of trying to hold her feelings in check, something would give very soon.

     

"I could give it to you in medicalese, but I think not. Plainly put, currently she's blind. The explosion slammed her into a pressure door causing a major concussion. It also perforated her chest with fragments of the shuttle's hull. A fragment perched her back." She paused, re-consulting the list in her hand, listening to the scream of failing velcro as the rabbit inhaled deeply.

     

"Considering the location and angle at which the shrapnel struck, it's a good thing her race wears their hearts on the right side, and not the left. Even so she's lost a third of the left lung and one floating rib. Both hands are burned to the bone, such as it is. Whatever corrosive was used in the bomb ate most of the bone up to her elbows. Soft tissues largely survived. Apparently it was a metal specific compound. Her right ankle's shattered beyond repair and what remains of both lungs have major vacuum scarring. Put it all together, she technically shouldn't be alive. Bluntly, even if she does survive. Miss Ti, Kiko’s lungs will fail in less than two years. At best."

     

Dai Ti closed her eyes against the leaden weight of the words. Considering the damage done to her Kiko should be dead. A spectrographic scan of the drifting cannister, after Kiko had jettisoned it through the bay doors, an analysis gleaned from the Passion's main computers with Marcus's grudging 'help', had indicated that the damage to the ship and all aboard her would have been equally as disastrous if Kiko hadn't acted.

     

As it was, some forty feet beneath the damaged bay a creeping threat of incandescent vapor had laid bare the Passion's inner skeleton, and had come close to rupturing one of the fuel reservoirs. Even with Kiko's self-sacrifice the ship had come terrifying near to descending into the planet's atmosphere. A spiraling twisting torch against the surrounding darkness.

     

Dai Ti snapped a glance at the medico. "What are her chances of recovery?"

     

"Assuming I can get her system to level out, and break the pain before I bring her out of the sedated state? Good. Her eyesight will recover. Most of the damage is due to blood vessels which ruptured during decompression. We have drugs which can force the tissues in her hands to grow back at an accelerated rate, but the bone's gone. I've cleaned out the trash and introduced stretchers, but proper prostatic work for the arms and ankle. Impossible. I might as well take them off before she regains consciousness. They won't be much good to her as they are. Otherwise most of the damage will heal, with enough time and drugs. And I'm running critically short of both."

     

The rabbit turned away from the pale, shrouded figure and faced the ICU's blank, antiseptic white wall.

"Kiko follows a Goddess called Merithel. You know what happens when any of her kind lose their limbs." she whispered raggedly. "They die. Every last one of them. They die." She shook back her shock and returned to the refuge of the practical. "You're running out of drugs you need. Why?"

     

Jeffary shrugged, the weary professional confronting a timeless foe. "The universal healing factors are a tightly controlled resource. MegaGalCorp developed them and later refined them into variations to meet the genetic needs of virtually all life forms. The catch is that they are expensive, and you can only stockpile so much at one time. I always keep some on hand, but we could never afford enough for something like this." She picked up a slim, double-walled glassite container from the bedside table and sloshed the contents for emphasis. "The healing regent's expensive and scarce. On top of that I need some that's specific for her species. I'm using the general purpose healer I have on hand but there isn't enough on hand to do anything really long term positive. I could also do with programmable medical nanos, to regrow her lungs. But those cost more than anyones worth. This isn’t a rich ship Miss Ti. It’s a huge ship but it isn’t rich."

     

The rabbit inspected the pale fluid speculatively. It resembled common cleanser stirred into slightly oily water. Certainly nothing in the concoction's appearance justified the rigid controls blocking its general release.

Jeffary caught her wide eyes. "What we need is available on the planet below. The MGC facilities are set for system-wide distribution. They would have everything I need. We just don't have the funds to cut through the red tape. Or pay the bill when all was said and done."

     

The rabbit half-smiled at a sudden thought. She'd learned from her inspection of the main computer's Incident Log that Millin and Michael were planet side, with a few others from the Passions complement. Assuming they knew what she'd only just learned, or that she could contact the away party... She patted the oversized firearm strapped to her hip, beneath the sheer fabric of the protective coverall. "I think I can arrange to obtain what you need. Just give me a list."

     

Deft removed a small yellow medical records disc from her pocket and passed it to the rabbit, then turned back to inspect the bank of indicators set beside the bed.

     

"I think," she announced in a dry tone, "that their frequency is Baker 28A."

     

Inserting the disc through the slit in the front of the sterile suit, Dai Ti leaned across the reclining form to kiss the drugged mouse on her uncovered nose. "Sleep, Darling. I guess have plans now that require you," she breathed in an undertone. Without another word she turned and left, tearing her flimsy paper coverall away as she crossed the foyer, tossing the rags to the startled mink as she passed through the outer door.

 





































Dirtside

 


     

Millin yawned widely, his long pink tongue curling up and back with the effort of continually monitoring what had been, so far, an extremely slow and very dull rendezvous. If anything the ferret decided, Michael's idea of romantic small talk was woefully inadequate. ‘I'd have walked out on him half an hour ago’, he had decided, ‘If he wasn’t so darn handsome.’ He rechecked the tiny amber screen on the tracking monitor, currently wedged uncertainly across the powerful turbo-cycle's handlebars. Evidently, after almost three quarters of an hour Michael and the mark were still dragging along the streets. He paused to check his city map. The two had entered the warehouse district some minutes before, and he'd instantly noticed the lemur's conversation had shifted into high gear. Millin presumed this was an attempt to prevent the fox from noticing the secluded, run-down surroundings into which he was being led. Millin scooted the nose of the 'cycle around the corner, just close enough to afford him a clear view of his prey. Distant as the two ambling figures were, that silver dress shone like a beacon from the shaded sidewalk.

     

It had been something less than a classic textbook surveillance. The ferret's mount was neither silenced nor inconspicuous. He'd caught Michael's covert wave as the fox had allowed himself to be led from the cabaret, and had dutifully followed along behind. Not without difficulty, though. The turbo cycle made so much noise that he'd had to take a number of false turns, just to allow the lemur to move out of earshot. Consequently he'd lost and found Michael and Tamia a dozen times.

     

Somewhere above, cloaked by a low cloud cover, one of the PASSION's tiny recon helicopters was circling. Millin hoped Soosan was faring better against the elements, which were turning decidedly cold and brisk. A comlink attached to one of the Ferret's suspenders gave a hesitant chirp. Millin started slightly, losing his grip on the ‘cycle's throttle. The powerful engine gave a disdainful cough and died. He savagely tugged the communicator free of its mooring, then keyed the power switch. Rhimus Lee’s dark more than desirable face appeared faintly on the liquid crystal display, skewing slightly to one side as the device struggled to lock in on the frequency.

     

"Doom approaches," the mink announced in properly sepulchral syllables. "Have you prepared?"

     

"Any particular doom. Or are we just talking 'old age'?" the ferret demanded, again leaning forward for a lightning inspection of the strolling couple. The lemur he noted, was obviously steering Michael toward one of the hulking, disused warehouses which overhung the avenue. A shadow flickered somewhere behind them, catching his attention for an instant.

     

"A Lt. Ti of Sector Security is on her way. I gather she's looking for you. Certainly she held no interest in me, thank the seven Gods. She is soo attractive, ah believe that ah would jus swoon inta hre arms."

     

 Millin choked in response. Lee though looked amused.

     

"She should arrive planetside in about four or five minutes. Allowing trip time from the spaceport -- and she's sure to have the credentials to help herself to a squad car. I figure you'll be charming her within oh, fifteen minutes tops?

     

"You could have warned me!"

     

The minks image in Millin’s palm shrugged elaborately. "I just learned myself. She apparently came aboard shortly after you left the ship. Ah...From what I've heard. She is noh in ah very good mood."

     

The Ferret winced. "She saw Kiko?"

     

Lee nodded yes. "And had a talk with Jeffary. I hope you have good news to report. If you don't have a lead I'd head back here now, and take my chances on losing her in the bustle of a spaceport terminal. By the way, Jeffary's come up with a full list of what we'll need. She thinks you'll find all the ingredients at a MegaGalCorp’s distribution warehouse. I've downloaded the list into the databanks in everyones comlinks. See what you can hunt up, if there's time."

     

Millin nodded distractedly. Lee’s suggestive accent faded in and out as she desired, and circumstances required. Still, when she used it, that accent could have his blood boiling in seconds. Glancing up he noted that Michael and the female were no longer in sight. Either he'd somehow overlooked a corridor between the featureless grey building's, or the duo were now inside. Well away from prying eyes. He hunched over the monitor, pressing the receiver earbuds deeper into his ears and searching for telltale signs. After a moment, he picked up the fox's audio signal, weakened by the intervening metal of the storehouse's framework. Michael was being painfully coy -- probably buying for time and wondering where the devil the errant ferret was.

     

"Are you sure you want to?" came a reedy facsimile of the pilot's usually deep voice.

     

"Of course I am silly," came the response. The lemur's voice was converted into a half-obscure electronic whine and a few words were deformed. The ferret stared at the monitor in bewilderment. Surely she hadn't called the fox a 'reluctant couch'. Then that shadow moved again and Millin was certain, the lemur had a tail. Other than the cute one on her back. Slipping off his cycle Millin moved swiftly, and extremely silently towards the other.

     


Inside the last warehouse in the street Tamia leaned back against the office desk -- one Michael's keen eyes noticed had obligingly been wiped dust free. Well, if you were going all out to arrange a trap, neatness never hurt. There would be no troubling the authorities with smudgy fingerprints, and no incriminating dust stains on the murderer's back.

     

"Of course I am," the lemur repeated as she unclasped the worked silver pin holding her dress in place. It fell away, revealing her nude form. Her fur was slightly darker at the ankles and wrists he noted. "You're hurt and you've lost friends. I-I feel somehow responsible," Tamia pouted, enthusiastically working the fox's black tank top up his chest and tousling his stomach fur as she did so. Michael's eyes rolled back in his head in spite of his resolve. He'd always been a sucker for a good belly rub. He barely caught that the lemur did something invisible behind her back with one slim hand.

     

"Besides" she protested. "I really do find you attractive. Much more so than that silly little ferret. Even though he is a lot of fun."

     

Michael caught a brief pinpoint of reflected light as her hidden hand swept up and around in a dangerous curve. He whipped the arm slung across his chest out, catching her painfully across the descending forearm. Tamia gasped as bone grated in its socket from the force of the blow. An ornate dagger spun from her unclasping hand and stuck at a sharp angle in the worn wooden paneling. Michael kicked out, knocking the female away as he tugged the false bandage off his arm. His other hand flashed up and wrenched the loosely cinched neck brace away, revealing the microphone clipped to his shoulder.

     

"Millin! Now!" he barked, diving after the still spinning lemur. He got a grip on her tail in passing, locking his heels in rotting carpet, the better to reel in his catch. Tamia gave a shriek of outrage and kicked with taloned feet.


Millin arrived in an explosion of wood chips and dust. Reasoning that parking his ride outside would waste precious seconds, he'd simply opted to enter through the yards-wide wooden facade which surrounded the front doors. Heavy panels sprung from their moorings, crashing inwards. They showered the struggling fox and lemur with beads of safety tempered glass. Millin slewed to a halt and in a flying dismount came to his friends assistance. Almost in passing he kicked out a long leg to trip Tamia, who'd finally succeeded in removing her somewhat frazzled tail from Michael's death grip.

     

Tamia spun in place, neatly dropping into the waiting pilot's arms. Michael came to his feet slowly, lifting the female's full weight by her neck. Tendons creaked, there was a crack as his free fist struck the woman’s skull and the lemur went limp. Then the fox gave a full-throated growl.

     

Millin picked himself up and inspected Michael's purpling catch unenthusiastically. "Enough Michael. We need information. Not a body. She’s too pretty to die this way."


The fox released his hold and Tamria dropped to the floor in a limp tangle of arms and legs. Michael then began gingerly removing the remnants of the false bandages. "What's next mastermind?" Millin’s reply was cut short by the clicking of heels on the fragmented glass which now carpeted the chill floor. Michael's head came around in surprise.

     

"We need information" Dai Ti announced. "And of course, I know how to get it." The rabbit fished in the pouch mounted on her belt and produced a small, but unpleasant looking syringe. She tossed it to Millin, who somehow managed to ensnare it between the tips of two reluctant fingers. He regarded his prize unhappily.

     

Dai then kneeled and inspected the prone lemur with clinical disinterest. "Give her this, then leave us alone for a while. I have a few things I'd like to discuss with her. You understand. Girl talk."

     

Millin knelt and injected the solution in the lemur's arm. There was only a thimbleful he noticed. "Something to wake her up" he asked.

     

"Among other things” Dai Ti admitted. “You'd better leave. I promise you, you wouldn’t like what I’m going to be doing." Her voice was devoid of emotion or humanity. The spacers exchanged uneasy glances, Michael's hackles stirring slightly. Making their decision both turned to leave, Millin retrieving his turbo cycle as they left. Quietly they retreated to the shadowed street. Neither had heard that tone from the attractive rabbit before, and neither wished to hear it again.

     


Tamia began to recover consciousness, slowly, painfully pushing the confusing darkness aside. The dim light hurt her eyes, she bit back a wail of pain at the unexpected sensitivity. Her fingers felt numb, as did her toes. Had the fox really broken her neck? Gathering her courage she gingerly opened one eye regarding Dai, who was now perched on the edge of the room's sole desk. "Who..." she managed.

     

The rabbit in the red and grey tunic smiled coldly. "Let's not bother ourselves with details dear. We have so much girl talk ahead of us as it is. You're going to tell me everything I want to know, and you're going to be very quick about it."

     

The prone captive choked back a laugh, abruptly realizing that her limbs were now completely numb and uncooperative. "He did break my neck” she whispered, true fear in her voice. “He’ll leave me. He’ll leave me.”

     

Dai Ti leaned back and tented her fingers on her lap. "No, your neck isn’t broken little one. At least, not yet. I knew you could use a little rest. What I gave you, it keeps you awake and alert, but shuts down your conscious nervous system. You'll get worse before you begin to recover. I hope you don't have a weak heart though. They sometimes fail under the influence of the serum."

     

"Bitch!"

     

The rabbit continued on serenely. "We should have six or seven hours to cover everything."

     

The lemur closed her eyes, shutting out the sight of a pale demon sitting atop the desk. "So you plan on killing me. I'm prepared to die. You won't learn anything. I love him. I knew I might die but he asked. I couldn’t refuse him anything. So do your worse, to die for him will prove my love."

     

Dai lowered her long legs over the edge of the desk and eased herself to the worn floor. She loosened the belt of her tunic. The jacket gaped and fell away, taking the attached skirt with it. Clad only in her boots and silver panties, the agent leaned forward, looming over the immobile terrorist. She had fished something from her belt pouch and held it where the other could see it.

     

There were two objects actually -- a compact but lethal looking blade, and a short, rubberized black rod. Holding the latter close to the other's fur, she depressed a stud set into the side. Blue tendrils of electricity danced along the short, uninsulated end of the device. An odor of scorching fur tainted dry air. "I think I will. Lets say its the optimist in me" Dai whispered as she slipped out of her remaining clothing. "And you know something? You won't even be able to scream."

  


Outside, the helicopter purred overhead, slowly lowering out of the wispy clouds for a better look at the scene below. Michael and Millin were at the curb, some distance down the block from the warehouse. They had been waiting for almost two hours and the ferret's curiosity was beginning to get the better of him. Abruptly their comlink peeped. Millin regarded the sloth’s washed out image apologetically. There was really nothing new to report. "So, what's going on?" the hovering pilot demanded.

     

"Well..." the ferret began.

     

A slight noise came from down the cul de sac. Millin spied Dai Ti exiting the darkened warehouse, She was, he noted uneasily, very much alone. "She's coming out now, and she looks tired." he reported.

     

The sloth leaned back in his seat as he levered the compact 'copter's nose up so that he could withdraw into the low hanging clouds. There had been no sign of any more unwanted company coming to the lemur's rescue, but there was no sense in taking chances. He'd remain on point until the party was on their way back to the spaceport. That was assuming the local authorities didn't send out a patrol to investigate the blip he must be making on their radar. He hadn't exactly checked in at the 'port, or filed a flight plan. Acting on Millin's prompting he'd taken the helicopter directly from the Passion, landed long enough to convert it to in-atmosphere operating mode, then had made a beeline for the indicated sector of the city.

     

Dai Ti approached the parked turbo cycle, still adjusting her tunic as she walked. One breast momentarily fell free, causing the ferret's eyes to bug out slightly before the rabbit could lever it back into concealment. Michael ran his tongue across dry lips and wondered, for the hundredth time, exactly what kind of thread she had used to secure the uniform's buttons. Whatever it was, it was obviously more resilient than anything generally available on the market. "Well, what did you find out?" the pilot asked, sending a nervous glance over his shoulder down the deserted street.

     

"Incredible news," Dai Ti replied. "She's one of only seven agents, all working for a mid-level corporate 'suit' named Terrance Vardmunk. Apparently he sent her along to see if Michael actually made his date. If he did, to more or less to determine the damage the bomb did. He's waiting for her report, sitting fat, dumb and happy at home. I have the address by the way." Dropping a small silver bracelet into Millin's hand, she patted him on the head. "You took care of her partner earlier, thank you. There won't be any backup to worry about."

     

Michael started slightly. With the military of several systems on the hunt for the vanished warship, the possibility of a corporation joining in set up several disturbing questions. He blinked, dubious. “All this from some company button pusher?"

     

"Right," Dai Ti continued, forcing the last reluctant button home. "He was at the spaceport when you arrived. Your little friend wasn't certain how, but he somehow guessed who you were and started adding things up. Apparently he expects a major promotion from this. So he hasn't shared what he knows with anyone else yet."


"Corporate paranoia at its finest," the fox commented dryly.



Millin whistled. "For a stupid promotion, an overgrown errand boy's willing to snuff out over two hundred lives?" He paused, noticing a glimmer of black mounted silver in the open pouch mounted on the rabbit's hip. "Errr, Dai Ti? Isn't that the girl's dress you have there?"

     

She sighed, primly clipping the pouch closed against the errant scrap of cloth. "Yes. She won't be needing it ever again. I noticed there's a nurse about her size assisting with Kiko aboard the ship. I thought it might be a nice gift. Once it's cleaned that is. There are a few... stains." She extended a small piece of paper. "His address."

     

"She's dead, then?" Michael asked, disconcerted. He hadn't imagined Dai Ti could kill in cold blood, and there was the slightly unsettling matter of his suddenly being an accessory. Besides, he had been truly interested and though he’d killed his share of both sexes, never anyone he’d been willing to bed.

     

Dai leaned forward to kiss her sometimes lover on his nose. "No, but remind me to notify the local police she's in there, when we leave the planet. Before slavers stumble across her. It’s a possibility you know. They do wander around on this planet and she is prime beef for their shops. But she did this strictly for love. That kind of love rots your soul before you know it. I’ve friends who might be able to help her, she was apparently a pretty good agent before Vardmunk got his claws into her heart. I can’t fault someone for loyalty or love, but I do make them pay." Throwing one shapely leg over the broad seat of the Ferret's turbo cycle Dai Ti dropped into place, pressing herself hard against the pilots back. "Maybe Pyuian’s gentle guidance will straighten her out. I’ll buy her back, I promise. Now make it exciting Fantus! I need it!" she cooed into the ferrets ear.

     

Millin tossed the tracking monitor to Michael, ran a quick check of the tiny grid map of the city he'd called up on the control panel's monitor, then popped the clutch. Nearby, battered windows shattered under the full assault of the powerful engine's scream. With an exultant ferret only tokenly in charge the 'cycle vanished in an instant, careening wildly down the street at a breakneck speed.

     

Michael inspected the instrument in his hands critically. Three was a bad taste in his mouth about the lemur, but nothing he could do about it. Yet to his mind the rabbit and ferret had overlooked one small element in their shared scenario. Suddenly a small helicopter chugged down out of the sky, coming to a rest a dozen yards down the street. Soosan popped the side window open and leaned out.


"Taxi, mister?"

  

  

In orbit aboard the ship Jeffary consulted the telltales on the mouses bed and shook her head in dismay. She keyed the intercom to call her assistant, who had spent the morning entombed in the medical center's small, dimly lit records center cataloging and cross-referencing. "Mira? I'm going to need a number six medical tray...drug case 10-B please. And your assistance. The patient is going into shock. I think I may have missed a fragment."

     

There was an instant response. Mira was an excellent assistant, though three was something wrong with her mind that Deft couldn’t yet tack down. Jeffary couldn't think how she'd managed without her help before now. Certainly, she'd have to thank Rhimus Lee for finding her, the next time the mink popped up for a medical reason. Moments later an interconnecting door hissed open and the female mink, barely taller than the prone patient, entered with a surgical tray.

     

"Everything you wanted ma'am;" she explained in a barely audible voice. Mira quickly took her place across the surgical couch from the lynx and waited for instructions.

     

Jeffary sighed. An excellent assistant, true, but too much on the submissive side. Clearly someone had their work cut out for them if the introverted mink was to be pulled out of herself. Pulling down the moist sheet that covered Kiko's still form the lynx began neatly cutting through temporary stitches. Somewhere in the mechanic's battered body lurked an undetected foreign body, and if the two couldn't locate and remove it in time... The mouse would die within hours.

 


At the same time, down on the planet, Soosan spotted a purplish reflected glint of the intercepting force long before they were able to close in on the thundering turbo cycle. He keyed the filter control on the 'copters compact control board and the glassite bubble nose of the ship darkened slightly. Still he squinted against the sullen rose glare of the setting sun. The unmarked metal bobbins swung low over the cityscape, missile pods clustered on either side of their pointed, lethal-looking noses. With a grim shrug he tilted the helicopter's stick forward, and the powerful little machine purred downward in a determined dive. "Millin," he advised. "You have two intercepts at two o'clock. Elevation's 32 degrees. They aren't transmitting the usual police locator codes so they have to be private guards."

     

Below the ferret glanced briefly in the indicated direction, the sloths warning having come clearly through the receiving buds seated deep in his ears. Returning his gaze to the roadway ahead he barked his plans to the rabbit leaning over his shoulder. Dai Ti simply tightened her grip around his waist.

     

The racing 'cycle had quickly climbed out of the warehouse district and had spent the last ten minutes tracing a broad, immaculate boulevard dominated by pristine estates with heavily guarded fences. As the searchlights of the pursuing 'copters pinned the careening 'cycle against the black asphalt Millin unexpectedly made his move as the number ‘1447' abruptly flashed into view, emblazoned in gilt letters on a black basalt gatepost. Standing in his seat and throwing his weight to one aide, Millin wrenched the steering fork hard over.

     

His 'cycle screamed in outraged protest, tried to upset, then straightened to tear off of the street and through the wrought iron gateway. Ignoring the massive limousine parked squarely across the driveway Millin hurtled a fringe of flowering bushes which skirted the gravel drive, slamming into the immaculate lawn. He laid the 'bike down in a barely controlled slide, spilling off in a tight roll while somehow maintaining his grip on the delectable rabbit. His machine continued on uncontrolled, tearing the front off a metal lawn deer. There was an acrid spurting of fuel, then the powerful vehicle erupted thunderously into a glaring blossom of flame.

     

Both pursuing helicopters banked and shot overhead at tree-top, momentarily frustrated at the apparent destruction of their prey. Powerful night vision goggles were brought into play in an attempt to locate the

crouching, darting ferret and his partner. Circling the rolling fireball, which was beginning to climb an ivy facade of the monolithic building, they began a slow climb back into the low clouds.

     

Soosan watched the two gunships' attack run, Millin's unpredicted maneuver, and the team's zig-zag progress up the sloping lawn. Grinning he slid the helicopter around so that it climbed into attack position behind the two purple ships. Somewhere in the rear of the crowded cockpit Michael was making chuffing sounds. Soosan cocked his head around just enough to see the fox forcing his broad shoulders through the harness of a paraglider pack. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded, glancing forward again as the 'copter jogged through an air pocket.

     

“You can handle things up here," Michael explained shortly, wrenching loose the locking pins which held his side door. "I'm going to get back into the action. Something tells me reinforcements are in order." He dropped through the opening, the slipstream slamming the panel closed in his wake. Soosan shrugged and clicked the safety off the ship's armament systems. In another instant he was within striking distance of the enemy craft, which were coming around, apparently to try a strafing run on the estate. ‘Hmmph’, the sloth reflected, ‘They must be desperate.’

     

As the rotating craft converged he squeezed off two missiles. Both enemy pilots registered the incoming fire and tried to compensate, but it was much too little, much too late. There was a violent blast of flame and shrapnel, followed by a downdraft which pitched the Passion's 'copter onto its side. One of the interceptors swung away, pitching end-over-end toward the ground. It impacted somewhere in the thick copse behind the mansion. The second craft regained an even keel, but was unable to hold altitude. It coasted downward, eventually colliding with the buildings peaked roof. Sparks and debris rained down onto the curved drive. At the main gate the limousine began to burn as wreckage enveloped it.

     

Soosan pulled his hovering 'copter into the protective clouds and headed back towards the spaceport. He wasn’t needed now. In fact he’d be a liability when the legals finally reacted. The trick now was to locate the PASSION's cargo shuttle and begin loading his compact attack craft into it. When the others returned they wouldn't be in the mood for delays.

     


Michael's arrival was noisy and abrupt. Realizing that he presented a tempting target to any defenders lurking in the estate below he popped the trim panels on the glider while he was still a good hundred

feet above the tree-tops. Its fabric surface suddenly reduced by a third, the paraglider dropped like a stone.

     

Michael kicked out, fending off a massive oak. Swinging wildly in his straps, he plummeted in a gap between the uppermost branches, then the glider fouled, yanking the fox up and back with a force that snapped his teeth together with an audible "click." Michael triggered the quick-release buckle on his chest and dropped unceremoniously into the rose bushes.

     


Several yards down the lawn, Millin paled beneath his fur. An eerie moan had reached a trembling climax, slowly dipping into a subdued whimper. Clearly some damned soul in eternal torment had woken to the surface world for a moment. While he regarded the sound there was a crashing of branches and Michael dropped into a crouch next to the raiders, his face twisted in pain. Millin raised an ironic eyebrow. "What's the matter with you?"

     

"Forget it," the fox managed. "What's next?"

     

Dai Ti leaned forward and flicked several large thorns from the fox’s shoulder fur. "Four defenders left. I got one as he was coming out to see what the racket was. Understand this, Vardmunk is mine! Take him and I’ll kill you. No excuses."

     

Michael nodded, the rabbit's powerful scent making the assault a peculiarly erotic experience, one he didn't find completely daunting. In fact, he felt as if he could handle any enemy which might come along. Still, the other's voice fairly dripped death and he had no desire to refuse her. Beside him Millin eased forward and peered through a tiny gap in the brush.

     

"Well, now what?" he asked, slipping a blue-marked magazine into his pistol. Michael winced, recognizing the color coding for explosive shells.

     

"Well, err..." the fox began.

     

At that instant, the mansion's front door grated open and two dark forms lanced through the narrow opening. Michael caught the dull glint of body armor in the pale light of the rising moons. Three weapons spoke as one, slamming the new players against the chill brick wall. Fragments of stone and armor scattered across the broad porch.

     

"Five down, three to go," Dai Ti growled. "Let's get in there before any more decide to crawl out of their little love nest." The three raiders began a quick duck-walk through the foliage, slowly separating as they approached the circle of dazzling light which now surrounded the building.

     


On board the orbiting space cruiser, Jeffary Deft shook her head at the sight of the thin sliver of crystal which Mira had found nestled close beneath Kiko's liver. Lying undetected, it had slowly sliced a jagged incision across the coiled intestines and infection had quickly set in. No wonder the mouse's vital signs had taken an alarming nosedive! Somehow the compact little mink had spotted the transparent killer half-concealed by the oozing sac of infection.

     

"Mer, give me 30 cc's of Telercillum in a flushing syringe," Jeffary murmured as she leaned across the mouse's opened belly, stitching needle poised. For over an hour the lynx had worked mutely, searching for a particle of shattered shuttle viewport. Three hours of both their hands painstakingly moving the muridae's insides around like the pieces of some intricate jigsaw puzzle. If Kiko survived this, she could survive anything.

     

Accepting the indicated syringe, Jeffary carefully flushed the wound with the potent antibiotic. Satisfied, she handed the device back to the waiting mink, then began the long task of sewing up the mouse's belly with the smallest stitches that she could manage. Kiko had no medical nano’s to help her heal, it was against her religion. Thus her survival was completely in h own hands now.

 


On the planet far below Dai Ti slipped along the perimeter of a wall of light surrounding the darkened manor house, searching for a way to get in closer. A slight dip in the lawn offered her an opportunity. She hit it in a low, fast roll. The action brought her half-way to her goal. Shots from the front of the building indicated that Michael, and probably Millin, had decided to try picking off the overhead lights. Most likely in hopes of setting up a direct frontal assault. At least that would be what the defenders would expect. A volley of automatic fire racketed out into the night air. Probably carrying for miles the rabbit thought grimly. Either her intended prey had clout with the police, or this sort of nighttime racket was usual in the neighborhood. Considering what she'd learned in the deserted warehouse, it could be either, or a little of both.


Relying on the clamor at the front door to distract the besieged defenders, she risked a headlong dive into the cool grass at the base of the last wall. Dai slowly rose to a low crouch and began following the pitted brickwork, searching for some way inside.

     

"Look mister," a deep voice protested out of the darkness. Dai Ti froze, gun raised, until she identified the source of the interruption. It came from an open window several feet away. The voice continued, clearly upset. "You hired us to do a job. The job's done. Now you pay us. We’re outta here."

     

There was a scuffling, followed by a reedy voice, raised in indignant outrage. "But they're out there! They've killed your friends. Doesn't that mean anything to you?!"

     

The deep voice choked out a ragged, humorless laugh. "We don't have friends. Makes business complicated. So they got your little love slave and a couple of hired guns. Doesn't mean nothin' to us. Slaves are cheap and so are mercs. We still have a deal on. Now, pay up or we toss you out a window and let you play with them yourself."

     

The rabbit's attention was caught by a shift in the overhead light. She glanced up to see a line of deep shadow progressing along the steep wall, accompanied by a bull fiddle roar. Evidently Michael had fit an oversized magazine into his pistol, turning it into a machine gun. Effective true, but the move was likely to draw unwanted attention to her hiding place. The action had also fairly well pinpointed the direction from which the assault would come.

     

Michael arrived in a stinging cloud of dust and leaves, taking the eight foot leap from the hedge in a single headlong lunge. Millin pattered up from somewhere in the rear, checking his ammunition in the moons' half-light.

     

Dai pointed to the gaping window and raised three pale fingers. Michael nodded and produced a small metal grape. A compact flash grenade from somewhere in his belt. He deftly popped the bomb's tiny pin off with one sharp claw, sending it away in a glittering arc. Millin just as deftly plucked the curved sliver of metal from the air. No point in leaving identifiable, traceable evidence behind after all. The fox then lobbed his tiny capsule into the now darkened room and threw one forearm across his squinted eyes.

     

There was a distinct thump, followed by a painful blast of searing, violet-hot light. Voices swore and a table was loudly overturned with a crashing of glass. An automatic weapon stuttered and Dai Ti felt the thump of bullets on the other side of the wall.

     

Michael swept up over the low sill, carefully keeping his entry well below eye level in case not everyone inside had been blinded. Millin followed, rolling to the other side so that his aim wouldn't be blocked by the crouching fox. Muzzle flashs sparkled in the room as Dai Ti entered and got a grip on a tall, emaciated wolf in thick glasses who stood behind an ornate desk near the window.

     

Though blind the wolf reacted to the rabbit's touch, jerking spasmodically backwards. Dai Ti lost her loose grip on the collar of his jacket when he did. One wavering hand plucked a heavy revolver from the blotter on the desk and swung the weapon up to send three dazzling shots in the rabbit's direction.

     

Fortunately the rabbits reflexes weren't impaired by the grenade's flash. She ducked below the bullets, then savagely kicked out. There was a splintering of bone, loud in the charged darkness of the room. A sound of the gun skittered into the corner, tearing polished parquet in its wake.


Millin looked up from his prey and winced at the bright blood welling from a large wound in the rabbits left hand. Evidently the wolf's aim had been better than it first appeared. Or luckier.

     

Meanwhile Dai Ti secured the wolf's collar in a death grip and tugged him closer, carefully pulling him off balance to maximize the effect. Michael produced a poker from the far side and carefully rammed it into the woodwork of the door's' jamb. Whoever else was in the house would have to work to get into the locked study. Millin switched on the desk lamp, then took a post by the opened window, at the ready for a flanking attack.

     

Dai Ti's voice carried the chill of a soulless arctic wind, as she fought to maintain control in the face of her rising fury. "Who else knows about the PURPLE PASSION sheep dung."

     

"No one," squealed the wolf, with a calculating glance at the fireplace. He was, Michael noted with interest, quickly recovering from the effects of the flash bomb. It generally took five to ten minutes for a victim to regain even partial eyesight. "Honestly! No one. I only knew because I spotted the fox in a newscast a month ago. Please! Please don't hurt me!"

     

Dai Ti shook, her wounded hand coming up with a knife. A hand surprisingly steady in spite on the heavily bleeding injury. "Oh, I'm going to hurt you" she growled, "I'm going to hurt you a lot. Just like I did your little girlfriend. But unlike her, you I’m not selling to Pyuian."



In orbit high above Jeffary Deft closed her report cover and picked up the ceramic mug of steaming tea Mira had made far her without asking. All indications now were that the mechanic might live. With the infection cleared out of her body her vital signs were slowly approximating normal, but the damage was so heavy that odds were heavily against her survival. Shutting down the medical station, she glanced up at the silently waiting mink. “You did fine work. You'll make a fine surgeon. Tell Rhimus I said that." With a deep drag of the drink she consulted the wall clock. "Other than an emergency, I'll see you in nine hours. Now go eat and get some sleep."

     

Mira smiled in response. It was something the medico hadn't seen often. "Thank you Major. I will be back in nine hours." The mink departed, her oddly enticing scent slowly clearing as the door closed behind her. ‘If I were interested in tearing my soul apart again. Maybe’ Deft thought, then pushed the idea away. She’d had too much of dead friends, dead lovers. An image of her last lover, his face a crater of bubbling organic goo filled her mind. ‘No. I can’t take that again’ she thought. Then making certain that the Med-Bay was locked, she queried if The Librarian was available.


It was, so the lynx asked to talk.




Soosan selected a landing spot for his hastily borrowed craft, just down the sloped lawn from the now burning manor. He had returned after storing away his little attack copter, having been called back when it was discovered that there was a dearth of transportation available. Finding a safe spot was simple, with the entire second and third story blazing there was plenty of light. Loosening his straps he levered the stolen taxi's side hatch open. Dai Ti and the others clambered unsteadily aboard and huddled tightly together in a seating compartment meant to hold six passengers, Somehow Michael got the portal re-fastened.

     

Soosan noted Dai Ti's dripping-wound and dragged the vehicles compact medical kit out from under his seat. He tossed it into the back of the compartment as the craft lifted into the night sky. "We'd better hit the spaceport running” he advised. “I passed fire trucks on my way in. The other party's are already aboard the ship with a few supplies. They didn't get much. Apparently MegaGalCorp moves the prime ingredients regularly, to thwart nasty little thieves like ourselves. I'll put you down alongside, we’ll be on the PASSION in half an hour. Tops."

     

"We need to get aboard faster than that" Millin reported, raising his voice to be heard above the thrumming of the overloaded motor. "She'll need expert help to save her hand."

     

Dai Ti gripped the front of Michael's jacket with her good hand and dragged him painfully close to her down turned face. "Parabla Medical Supply. Grid seventeen north, two-seven-two east. Kiko...needs...things."

     

Soosan glanced back at the bloody rabbit in the overhead mirror, then at Michael. The fox nodded yes then returned to tightly winding a sterile bandage around the quivering rabbits hand.

     

"Parable Medical, then," the sloth agreed, bringing the taxi's nose around toward the indicated heading.

Crazy Female, he thought. That hand's a mess. She'll probably lose it and she wants to gallivant across a hostile city! Well, he reflected after a moment's consideration, at least Karl and Bandel had located the parts needed to get the PASSION’s outrigger engines back into working shape. That would save some time. His small craft swung across the pale disc of the largest of the planet's three moons, heading for the biochemical storage center.

     

     

Jeffary was awakened by the hissing of sickbays doors opening. Soosan and Millin appeared on the run, carrying several oversized crates still bearing their warehouse seals. Michael followed at a near crawl, half-carrying Dai Ti. A steady trickle of blood was coming from the policewoman's bandaged hand, pooling on the polished plastic flooring. Jeffary let the bearers go and concentrated on steering Dai Ti into the inner chamber and onto a vacant medical couch. As she entered the room she slapped the lighting control, raising the illumination level significantly. Dai Ti was clearly bordering on shock induced by loss of blood. The lynx keyed her intercom as she prepared things. "Mira? Sickbay. I need you now. Move it!" Lowering her charge onto the bed she triggered a switch, a gentle restraining net quickly snapped into place, keeping the rabbit from moving for now.

     

Satisfied that Dai Ti wouldn't writhe off the couch Millin indicated the outer room with a nod of his grimy head. With Michael in tow the two headed back out, past the stacked cargo cases. "But.. but she may need my help..." the fox protested as the doors sealed.

     

Millin shook his head and indicated the small mink rushing past, discarded bedclothes spewing in her wake as she struggled to dress at a gallop. "That's all the help Jeffary needs. Unless, of course, you want your medical records misplaced. Besides, three are a lot more crates to be delivered. Remember? We need to get out of the way."

     

Michael shuddered and made a face. One brush with the lynx's prize tactic in protecting Mira from unwanted attentions had been enough. True, Michael had only wanted to quiz the mink about news from his home system, but Mira had instantly misinterpreted the action as a threat and had gone into near-hysterics. Jeffary's vengeance had been swift, and terrible. There had been no possibility of mercy.

     

Allowing himself to be led into the waiting room, Michael absently pulled a magazine from the rack and began flipping through the brightly colored pages without paying particular attention to the contents.

     

Millin snickered and fluttered his eyelashes. "You know," he observed in the fascinated tone of a deliver of the truth, suddenly confronted with an unexpected mother load, "I never realized you had an interest in women's fashions Michael. See anything you'd like me to pick up for you on our next planetfall?"

     

The flying magazine triggered the outer doors sensors and dropped into the corridor at the feet of a startled Rhimus Lee. The mink glanced bewilderedly at the sickbay as the doors resealed behind the missile.

     

Michael regarded the Ferret sourly over folded arms. "Two of our closest friends may be dying and you make jokes!"

     

Millin shrugged. "Can I help it if I'm witty? Besides, I'm no doctor. There's nothing else I can do."

     

Michael acknowledged the point with a curt nod. "You're right."

     

There was a pause as he inspected the white ceiling of the small room.

     

"So, tell me about the two Alebran folk dancers and the farleuf fruit."

     

Millin grinned wickedly and began mentally assembling the story.

 


Nearly seven hours later the inner door hissed open and Mira stepped out of the operating theater, motioning wearily to the waiting men. "You can see her now," she directed in a weak, quiet voice. "But not for long. She's awfully tired." She gave Millin a look that would have perked the ferrets interest, had he noticed it. Instead he simply slipped by, thanking her. Completely unaware of the deep breath that the mink took of his scent as he passed.

     

Michael and Millin quickly, but carefully crowded around the rabbit's bed. From it a topless Dai Ti inspected them with a wan smile. "I guess I should've listened to Soosan." Her voice was a paper rustle in the stillness of the antiseptic chamber.

     

Michael touched the rabbit's cheek lightly. "You? Listen? When? How do you feel."

     

"Tired," came the reply, drifting in from somewhere close yet far, far away. The rabbit closed her eyes and added. "But good. Jeffary says we got the right materials. She'll work on Kiko in the afternoon, after they both get some sleep. Since I’m not crew I can leave as soon as my strength is back. With aggressive therapy my hand will be fine. In three or four months."

     

Michael nodded in agreement, a moist glisten in his eye. His attention was drawn to the lynx, who was currently gesturing at the clock and making slicing motions across her neck from the next room. Nodding in agreement he patted the rabbit lightly on her right shoulder. "We'll be back in the morning. Promise."

     

Dai nodded faintly.

     

"Morning okay," she managed as she slipped into a drugged sleep.

     

Both pilots slipped quietly out of sickbay, Michael with his hands dug deeply into his pockets and one corner of his mouth twitching slightly. Millin, familiar with the signs, waited for the fox to unburden himself.

     

"You know what the problem is now, right? I mean, with them both on the mend?"

     

The ferret leaned against a cool wall and fiddled nervously with one of the pins which held his shirt in place. "Of course. Just how are we going to keep Marcus from guessing she suspects the PASSION’s core. He wouldn't kill her I'm sure, but he'd be likely to do something major to preserve security. He might even sell her to Kiko, after training. Maybe even Pyuian training. Now that would cause a stir, ‘cause that mouse is more than in love with that rabbit. She wants to marry her."

     

"How do you know all this stuff” the fox asked, surprise painted on his face. “Later” he decided. “Anyway, more important right now is the locals. Sacrificing a cargo shuttle so they can't clearly trace it to us may buy us enough time to get the engines working and move out," Michael pointed out. "Even so, you can bet there'll be eyes on us until we clear the outer moon's orbit. Maybe longer. He's bound to be paranoid, and I can't help be feel we've forgotten something downside."

     

"With reason." Millin replied. "You know you have another problem don't you?"

     

Michael looked up, bewildered.

     

"When we were on the 'cycle" Millin continued, "Dai Ti told me she was in love with both of you. How are you going to settle this one? ‘Cause that mouse can seriously kill you. Without breaking a sweat."

     

Michael stopped, looking back down the hall. "I don't know Fantus, I honestly don't know. I could fight Kiko for her, but I’ll be honest with you. Your absolutely right. She’d cut me into little pieces and I’d be lucky to scratch her. She’s that good, so don’t you ever anger her. And don’t try any of your tricks, Dai’s just as deadly."

     

The ferret stretched, yawning. "Bad news then. So cutting her throat is out. Meet you back at sickbay in the morning, ok?"


Nodding in agreement the fox headed slowly back to his quarters. Several yards down the curving passageway he stooped to pick up one of Mira's discarded bedclothes. The mink's sleeping scent clung to the linen, taking some of the edge off his fear as he considered matters. Dropping the fabric in a pile outside her cabin door as he passed, he continued to the next pod and his quarters. Vanishing inside.