Season Five [Part Four]

- 13 -

Sifting through the wreckage left behind after the decisive action taken by The INV Monstrum Provisio was a time consuming task. The capital vessel had dropped into the skirmish and ended it soundly, before tearing away again to another place in need of them. That had happened a little over a day ago, Cael Theo had been contracted by the local authorities to work a salvage crew. It wasn't the worst job he'd ever had, not by far, but he much preferred to share the cockpit with someone. He found the solitude accentuated any boredom he might be feeling.

Cael had been flying someone else's Hauler around the debris field for about an hour, he wasn't counting. Many pilots liked to play music while they worked jobs like that one, but not Cael. He wasn't there to enjoy himself, and to him that job was only a stepping stone. Only a way to log flight hours, steps on his route to joining the Imperial Navy. Cael wasn't bothering to watch the clock, they intended to come get him when his shift was done.

A red light blinked in the distance, catching Cael's eye, even if only fleetingly. He looked around, then to his scope, seeing nothing. He flew the Hauler in the general direction he thought he'd seen the flash.

There, to his left. A red beacon, maybe a data recorder. It was cold, whatever it was, barely visible on Cael's scope. He approached carefully, and as soon as his sensors resolved it, he scanned whatever it was.

An occupied escape pod, three hundred meters and closing. Cael hesitated, his hand hovering over the button that would open his cargo hatch. There weren't supposed to be any escape pods, The Navy managed to get there in time, the only casualty was the Federal ship. Any escape pods should have been collected already.

Unless, Cael realized, the escape pod came from the Federal ship. It likely would have automatically delayed it's transponder, so the enemy would miss it. The idea being, a friendly vessel could swoop in and collect it later. A plan that could never have worked for a vessel this far into Imperial territory.

The red light blinked again, beckoning Cael to do something. He deployed the scoop and collected the pod. Running through the procedures manual in his memory, the page about enemy combatants. He did not need to inspect the pod, it was safe in the cargo rack, but Cael needed to check on them. Escape pods were notorious for having 'acceptable flaws' in their operation, Cael would feel responsible if a simple spot check could have prevented further harm to the occupant.

The procedures were to bring the escape pod to his superiors immediately, something Cael was going to do after checking on it. The cryogenic cycle had completed successfully, and neither of the self-diagnostic cycles Cael ran turned up any errors. There was quite a lot of moisture frosting the glass, Cael noted. The person inside was wearing the distinctive red-trimmed and black uniform of the Shadow-Operations group, as he saw it a tinge of fear ran through Cael.

They were the story told to children in the Empire, of why the Federals were never to be trusted. The spies to look out for, and the agents who stalk troubled worlds. Cael knew better than rumor and hearsay, as a child of a military family he was taught properly when it came to such things. He knew to fear them for what they were, the special forces and internal police of the Federal military. Morbid curiosity drew Cael closer to the glass.

He imagined himself one of the few Imperials to ever be this close to one of them, he smirked to himself as he realized many had, but simply never survived the encounter. He had also been told the Federation had no love for Trans-Humans, so was surprised to see a Feline woman beneath the uniform. Cael found himself noticing how beautiful she was, though her mottled orange and pearly white face was contorted in emotion when she had frozen.

She looked sad, Cael wondered why.

His message was beamed away at the speed of light, it took several minutes to arrive and several more for the reply to return to him. Cael was to wait there, a transport was being dispatched to pick him up. They told him again, not to open the pod unless the occupant was in distress. His shift supervisor told him directly that the Navy would be upset if they lost the prisoner to him being hijacked. They expected to be no sooner than three hours.

Cael waited the first twenty five minutes in the cockpit, then he made his way back to the cargo bay. He spent another ten silently looking at the woman in the escape pod. She looked so upset, like she was hurt, as if someone had wounded her. Cael even looked down through the window to see if she was injured.

"I guess the pod would have told me if you were hurt." He muttered.

Her expression remained frozen, in distress.

"Well, at least you're getting help, right?" He didn't envision anything pleasant when he thought about interrogations.

Cael could barely see the harsh lines of her uniform anymore, he was fixated on her face. There was a strangely flattened patch of the fur on her left cheek, under her eye.

"I wouldn't have left you out there, but well... I'm sorry, I guess. We get a couple of hours together, I can at least try to keep you company for now." Cael smiled a tiny smile to himself.

Tears, frozen tears. Cael realized what he was seeing, she had started to weep when the pod sealed on her.

"What did we do to you? Would you even tell me?" He looked at the control panel on the pod.

Cael would describe in his report, that her expression suggested injury of some kind. He acknowledged that he was making a risky decision, but one that was made only for humane reasons. He left out of his report, the later half of the anguished wail that came from her as she thawed.

She gasped and held her hands over her face, tears streaming freely, then the readout in the side of the pod blinked, catching her attention and holding it for a few moments. She began to shake as she slid down into the footwell of the open escape pod and wrapped her arms around her own knees.

"It's okay." Cael said.

She noticed he was there, and shot her gaze at him. Cael stepped back reflexively, for less than a second her glance felt like it was going to cut through him. But her eyes softened, then her lip quivered, and her head dropped back down and she continued to weep.

"My name is Cael Theo, I won't harm you, I promise. What is your name?" He leaned down and sat a few meters away from her as he spoke.

"DuHart, Stephanie. Comiss-" Her rank caught in her throat like poisoned food, she lifted her head and stared agape at her own arms and legs for a moment. "No!"

She began to fight her jacket, like it was strangling her. Cael moved to help her, try and calm her down. But he stopped when he heard the leather being cut. The Half-Feline had bared her claws and was tearing the uniform jacket off of herself. Screaming at it like it would kill her if she stopped resisting it.

After a full five minutes of this display Cael was left terrified, while Stephanie was left sprawled on the floor, surrounded by shreds of jacket and trying to catch her breath.

"They wont have me too." She muttered to herself between sobs.

"Who has been taken?" He asked, bewildered.

"Arrow, They made me kill my Arrow." She spoke quietly, unable to come to terms with what she was saying.

"Who is They?" Cael questioned further.

Stephanie gathered a handful of the shredded uniform surrounding her, and tossed it into the space between them as an answer.

"You are safe now." Cael told Stephanie.

She turned away from him as another round of tears sprung from her eyes. Stephanie knew what came next, she had been on the other side of plenty of debriefings. This pilot's promises were meaningless. He made a sound to get her attention. Cael was holding out his handkerchief for DuHart. She took it hesitantly.

"There may not be much I can do, Stephanie. But I promise to try and keep any harm from coming to you." Cael sighed. "Obviously that would be easier if you co-operate with The Navy."

"Obviously." She used his cloth to wipe her face. "Thank you."

"If you need me to do anything, Just say so." Cael's offer was one that could have been his undoing, but DuHart was no longer the person who entered the escape pod.

"I would l-" She stopped herself, shaking her head instead of finishing her request. DuHart sat there, and wrapped her hands around her biceps.

Something inside of Cael stirred, something novel and startling. He intuited that she wanted to be held, but he did not expect how much he wanted it as well. Very slowly and hesitantly, Cael Theo inched over to Stephanie and held out his arms. He did not hold her, but showed his intent with a questioning expression on his face.

Once she realized what he was offering, Stephanie let out a sob and leaned into him. His hands fell onto her shoulders and DuHart tried to fight her tears. Cael carefully gave Stephanie's shoulders as reassuring a squeeze as he could.

"It's okay to cry, The universe knows nothing of anyone in this cargo bay." Cael let her know. "It will be at least an hour before another ship arrives.”

"Thank you Cael, thank you." Stephanie cried, anguish that had built for years was freed.

She let this kind stranger hold her while she wept, Stephanie DuHart had spent herself and needed that respite. Cael Theo held Stephanie, the first woman to be this close to him in nearly a decade, he blinked away a tear of his own.

He was forced to let them take her away, he promised her again she would not be harmed. Then demanded a similar promise from his superior. The man reminded Cael, that was not his decision to make.

The next day they didn't send him out for his shift, they didn't send him back to his bunk either. He waited for half an hour while his supervisors dodged questions. His confused boredom was finally brought to an end when a highly decorated military official walked into the room. Cael stood and saluted reflexively.

"I was not aware you are Navy, young man." Admiral Phelix Livius quipped.

"Oh, uhm I am not, Sir." Cael admitted, slightly embarrassed as he let his arm fall to his side.

"Not yet, I presume." Admiral Livius smiled. "You have ambition, that's nice. But you have tenacity, young man, and that is better."

"Thank you, Sir. But if I may ask, why do you say this?" Cael had only known the Admiral for a few moments, and that was quite the judgement to make.

"You must have, I am here because you have been requested by name." The Admiral smirked as he spoke.

"Who in the Imperial Navy knows me?" Cael wondered aloud.

"No-one, you've been requested by the prisoner you found." Livius let out a single mirthful snort.

"Is Stephanie okay? Why is she asking for me?" Cael suddenly became worried he had been made a liar.

"This is exactly what I'm referring to, young man." The Admiral enjoyed Cael's confusion for a moment. "Stephanie is perfectly alright, but is not being very forthcoming. She has offered to speak with you, and to be frank, we are not asking, we require your presence. Clearly we do."

"Clearly, Sir?" Cael was already prepared to follow the Admiral, but still confused.

"Yes. She wouldn't even tell us her name." Admiral Livius explained.

Cael was led through the facility to where they were holding her. The Admiral left the pair alone, surprising them both.

“Have you been hurt?” Were Cael’s first words to her.

“How did they bring you here?” Was her reply.

“By cart, are you-” He was not given the time to finish.

“What did they offer? Did they threaten you? You can say nothing and I will understand.” Her words were well planned and delivered frantically.

“No, what? No, Stephanie. The Admiral collected me, he said you asked for me by name.” Cael explained, worry in his voice.

She took hold of his shoulders, startling Cael with her strength. She peered into his eyes, scanning them for truth or lack thereof. As DuHart grasped that Cael was not lying to her, she released him. She let out a single relieved laugh, then ran her fingers through her hair.

“He did…” Stephanie hadn’t for a moment believed the Admiral when he offered to take up her request. She had said that it was the only thing he could do to win her trust. Stephanie turned and spoke to the mirror that made up one wall. “I believe you Phelix. I will give you the Access Codes.”

“How have I changed your mind?” Cael wondered to her.

“You haven’t, I must apologize. I was using you to test the Admiral. He’s passed.” Stephanie explained.

“Then I am glad to have been of service, Stephanie. You have no need to apologize.” Cael replied.

- 14 -

“Glad to be of service, Steph.” Tactical Officer Theo told his Captain.

“Thank you Mister Theo. Should we be forced to extend our ETA I shall inform you.” DuHart replied as she stood up from the seat.

“Take your time, I think I shall have a joy-flight around the nearby hills.” Cael smiled as he spoke.

The Captain stepped off the Gutamaya Courier that ostensibly served as her yacht. The idea seemed preposterous to her, but on that day the vessel had proved convenient. Stephanie’s Pallaca Stepped off the craft behind her. The wedding was now over and those who required it, were to be ferried back to the center of the Empire aboard The Queentia Iactura. Preparations were being made to leave, so scheduling was simultaneously tight and therefore a nightmare for many of DuHart’s crew. Cael’s suggestion of having him fly them to Vish-Two had proved the best plan, by far.

“So, the commercial district is that way.” The girl noted a signpost and gestured at it.

Stephanie smiled as she watched her take the lead. This emergency mission they were on was DuHart’s fault after all, but Stephanie was finding it difficult not to be amused by the situation. The girl was such a sight, prancing around in a borrowed outfit, several sizes too big. DuHart’s black skirt fit the girl much more modestly than it did the Captain, and the shirt they had selected looked more like a short dress on the girl. DuHart had been unable to convince her to borrow the boots, the girl had her own shoes it was true. But Stephanie thought the way her boots reached past the girl's knees was adorable.

Word had made it to the girl that the second planet in Vish was experiencing a boom in trade, since the arrival of the wedding party. Anyone in the need of clothing or furniture would be able to find a fantastic bargain. Thanks to Stephanie’s exuberance, the girl was in need of one of these things.

The commerce district was already busy, the girl was pleased to see rack after rack of clothing brought out into the street. They began their hunt, the girl’s primary prey was a replacement plain gown. She was having trouble finding anything in white. Eventually understanding the issue but not the cause of it, DuHart asked a salesperson if they offered a dress without color.

“Yes, in the back.” She replied, giving Stephanie a wary look.

“It’s best not to ask.” The girl whispered as they followed the saleslady.

“Here, hurry up. Don’t forget to pay, these all have tags on them.” With that brusque warning, the woman left them with the hidden rack of gowns. The exact type the girl had been having difficulty finding outside.

“I have missed something.” DuHart admitted, as she saw her Pallaca sullenly looking at dresses.

“These gowns are for whores.” The girl sighed. “I hoped to find something without admitting to it.”

“Then why have one at all, we can get you any color of gown, any material you want.” Stephanie said, looking from the girl to the cloth in her hands.

“I want one of these.” She said quietly. “I didn’t want you to be treated that way.”

“Should I be okay with this treatment, for you?” Stephanie rebutted.

“I am a whore, but you are not.” A devious grin played across the girl’s lips. “I am Your Whore.”

“Is that dress the one?” Stephanie asked, taking it from the girl’s hands.

The girl nodded, so Stephanie held it out to her, judging it for size. She directed Her Pallaca to raise her arms, before she turned the dress and made the girl face the other way to double check it against her back.

“This looks a good fit, perhaps we ought to purchase more than one. Just in case.” Stephanie blushed a little, but her fur hid it.

“Agreed, I guess we can get out of here.” The girl draped the clothing over her arm and turned to leave.

“So, these are a whore’s uniform?” Stephanie’s question caused the girl to turn back.

DuHart had found a larger gown, and was holding it against her body. She did her best to strike the kind of pose she’d seen women in Holo Shows and Advertisements use. The girl was taken aback, excited. Stephanie smiled then stood properly, holding the dress in place for only another moment before making to return it to the rack.

“You look good in that.” The girl admitted, staying Stephanie’s hand.

“Fashionable?” DuHart quipped, chuckling and taking another look at the dress.

“No, good.” Stephanie’s Pallaca explained.

With their dresses bought, they continued looking for clothing. They now had no specifics in mind, only things that caught their eyes. The process of hunting for a fit was something Stephanie found amusing. After nearly an hour had passed, and many potential outfits were purchased Stephanie asked the girl a telling question.

“You know how to sew, to fit your own clothes?” DuHart had pieced it together as the girl mentioned hemming a pair of pants.

“Of course.” She replied.

“Have you ever had something tailored?” DuHart posed another.

“Well, no. If I can’t do it myself I just wouldn’t buy it, find something else instead.” The girl answered.

“Would you like to?” Stephanie asked.

“I can do my own fitting with this stuff, it wouldn’t be worth it.” The girl answered, smiling shyly.

“For something new.” Stephanie’s clarification stunned the girl.

“I… I would like that.” She admitted.

The pair walked to a more affluent part of the market, finding a tailor without much trouble. DuHart had a dress made for the girl, regal blue with emerald touches. The collar and cuffs were touched with golden lace, matching the buttons. Stephanie’s Pallaca wore her new gown out of the shop, DuHart carrying the packaging it was meant to be in.

“We must visit a haberdashery next.” Stephanie noted, seeing the girl in the light of daytime.

“A what?” The girl asked, a worried expression on her face.

“A hat-maker’s.” Stephanie explained, trying to hide her mirth. “We may want to get you a pair of shoes, as well.”

“I have shoes.” The girl scoffed a little, before running her fingers through her hair. “Do you think I could use a hat?”

“It would complete your outfit, I think.” Stephanie replied.

They discussed styles of head-wear while finding the shop. Once inside, the girl discovered a green wide brimmed hat with a golden band. She decided it was perfect immediately. Stephanie convinced her to have a floral accent added to it. They left, the girl’s new headgear contained in its cylindrical box.

Walking through the courtyard, the pair debated the relationship of a hat’s cuteness to the lack of rigidity in the rim. They were laughing with each-other, when Stephanie’s P.A.D. chirped in her pocket. Her mirth died suddenly as she snatched the device up to inspect it.

[Theo]: Find LZ. Needed in Orbit. Brass Talk.

“Shit.” Stephanie muttered.

[To Theo]: On me.

The Captain sent the message and walked to the middle of the square, leading her Pallaca there. She shot the girl an apologetic look, before turning away and fishing her badge out of her pocket.

“By order of The Imperial Navy! Please clear the square! We apologize for the inconvenience, thank you!” The Captain ordered, holding her badge aloft.

Space was made in the paved courtyard and in a short few minutes the Courier arrived. Cael screamed the craft low and between buildings. He pirouetted the vessel and fired its main thrusters to arrest it. He came to a landing with the kind of rapidity that combat deployment dictated.

Stephanie’s Pallaca would have stepped out from under it, if DuHart hadn't stood there stoically, holding her hand. The ship came to the ground, cracking the pavement. The front landing gear a few meters from the pair. Captain DuHart marched up the ramp into the ship without hesitation, pulling the girl alongside her.

The Gutamaya craft blasted up and away from the market, headed to the nearest airlock on the edge of the dome surrounding the city. Elegant and with economical motion. To those on the ground and one inside of it though; the craft and its behavior were the pinnacle of opulence. A short Frame-Shifted trip brought them alongside The Queentia Iactura, and revealed the chosen vessel of Admiral Phelix Livius.

The INV Lytrum, Captained by a man named Flecher. An O’ Brien Cruiser, bulkier looking but smaller than a Majestic and drastically less sleek. They were phasing out the craft, in favor of the domestically constructed Gutamaya Capital vessel. Admiral Livius preferred the older, sturdier Lakon design, even though they were less capable.

As Cael docked the Captain’s Yacht, they caught sight of the swarm of shuttles ferrying people and materials between the two Imperial Navy Capital ships. DuHart was concerned about orders being given over her head, but more-so about how severe the situation warranting this must be.

Once docked, the trio marched directly to the bridge. Admiral Livius was waiting for The Captain beside her chair.

“Admiral.” Captain DuHart saluted, so did Cael. “I apologize for my attire. The ready room?”

“Yes.” He agreed, still looking at the main view-screen. It was blank.

Cael was already preparing to lead the girl off of the bridge, as DuHart led the Admiral to the ready room. The Admiral remained silent until after a few moments alone with DuHart.

“There’s a new mission for you, it’s extremely important. Time is of the essence.” He spoke sullenly.

“My passengers will complain about their new accommodation.” DuHart quipped.

“No longer your concern. You must meet with someone.” Phelix’ voice was quiet.

“Who and where?” DuHart took heed of the weight of the situation.

“A handful of light-years from here. They’ve just won an election. You aren’t going to ask me why?” The Admiral was fascinated by DuHart.

“You’ve just told me, Sir.” She could read into what he meant faster than he could work towards his point, they were also on ground DuHart had tread many times.

“How will you proceed?” Admiral Livius asked.

“I will pay them a visit, meet them. That may be all.” It may also not be, they both knew.

“We have nothing but a few suspicions, and in terms of assets in the area; we are unsure what we have.” Livius spoke slowly, trying not to be rude.

“Unproven assets?” Captain DuHart knew of no other Imperial Navy near Vish.

“Yes, they are being deployed regardless. Prove yourself, Captain.” The Admiral answered and explained.

“Thank you for the opportunity, Admiral.” She realized he had meant her, but The Captain would not shrink from a challenge, this could barely befit the word.

“Thank fate.” Admiral Livius blew air through his nose. “I would rather have no need to send anyone, for this.”

They saluted each-other, then he left. Shortly thereafter Cael Theo came into the ready room. He saluted his Captain, who saluted again to return it.

“Captain, I have had Petty Officer Yates escort your, umm Girlfriend back to your quarters, Ma’am.” Theo reported.

“We have a new mission, I can say no more.” DuHart said. Stephanie wished to address his hesitation, but The Captain had no room for that here.

- 15 -

They took nearly the same amount of time to traverse Hyperspace to the system, that it took to move the delegates over to Captain Flecher’s vessel. The largest orbital asset the system could boast was just an industrial outpost, but the place was resource rich, and had a large population. Stephanie had immediately noted the tactical value of the stability of a system like this, and the vulnerability of it.

Captain DuHart and Tactical Officer Theo discussed a plan in the ready room. Cael did not like the new layer of secrecy DuHart was bringing with her. Stephanie would have explained if she could.

“if something is going on, then as your Tactical Officer I advise an escort.” Cael pursed his lips in frustration. “Frankly I don’t think The Captain should be going on any inspections like this alone, regardless. You have people you can send for this type of thing.”

“Cael, only I can determine if what might be happening actually is. Without presenting a real accusation.” DuHart tried to explain.

“Who is being accused, of what?” Cael was excellent at his job, which involved little subtlety.

“No one, and of nothing. That is not how this works.” DuHart sighed, she looked at him. “I will leave you in command, while I am gone. I can handle any danger that may find me here, and to prepare more thoroughly would only prove us the heel should these suspicions be unfounded.”

“Preparations? Suspicions? I do not feel that-” He saw her shake her head, sullenly and only a little. “Oh, I see.”

“You do?” Stephanie was a little taken aback at how well he already knew her.

“This is wetwork.” Cael said, simply and without accusation or judgement.

“Not yet.” DuHart admitted.

He flew the Courier to deliver her to the outpost, Cael offered to stay in the dock and wait for her. In case DuHart needed him. She told him that he should return to The Queentia Iactura, and that the few minutes extra time would have no difference on whatever was to transpire. She thought her words were reassuring. He worried deeply as he flew away.

Stephanie was met by a concierge working for the local government, just inside the outpost proper. He led her to the main offices and told her the Provost-Elect would meet her shortly.

The Provost-Elect and The Captain shared a knowing smile when she stepped inside the hall. Though each of them wore theirs for different reasons. She offered a drink in her private office, but Stephanie declined and suggested a walk. The Provost-Elect knew this code as well as she knew DuHart, or thought she did. After hesitating for a moment so short few people would have noted it, she agreed. They stepped out of the building and into one of the few open areas of the interior of the outpost.

“I did not expect a visit, Herr DuHart. Nor was I informed of your change in status.” She said, as casually as she could.

“I was in the neighborhood, Dufresne. Decided to check up on you. What are you getting into here, report.” DuHat gave her command in a harsh tone, after speaking conversationally.

“The usual, projecting three years. Two if we’re lucky, four if not. You don’t need to get a report from me. What did I screw up, why did They send you?” She replied, becoming anxious.

“They didn’t send me. I told you, I was just nearby, wanted to catch up.” DuHart answered casually.

“I don’t believe you, but I’ll play your game DuHart. Maybe I can guess what They have you doing, so important you have an entire Majestic as disguise.” Dufresne was less worried that she was in trouble, but still confused.

“I told you Dufresne, They haven’t sent me.” DuHart offered this clue, and watched worry return to the Provost-Elect’s face.

“What are you saying.” She asked, slowly and carefully.

“Only one of us is wearing a mask right now.” Stephanie said with a smirk.

She made to break Stephanie’s toes, but The Captain’s boots were too rigid. Then the Federal operative made her best to escape. They both knew DuHart was faster on foot, neither of them hesitated to draw their weapons.

The Captain stopped running and planted herself to take the shot, Dufresne did not. The debate over such decisions while in the heat of battle has been raging for nearly ten thousand years, perhaps more. An argument since the first Human thought to throw a rock. Stephanie had made an easier target of herself, in exchange for her improved stability. Dufresne had not been able to capitalize on this though, instead hoping to lay suppressive fire while making her escape.

DuHart’s bullet tore through Dufresne’s cervical spine, expanding and opening her throat from chin to collarbone. She was dead far from instantly, but completely disabled before she reached the ground.

The first bolt of plasma from Dufresne’s burst ripped through the air so close to Stephanie she could smell her fur cooking. The second one passed further away, and on the opposite side of her. The third through fifteenth all made their way into the storefronts lining the boulevard.

“A carbine? You bitch!” DuHart fired off a second round into the prostrate woman. Her death came more quickly now, but still not mercifully so. The Captain snatched her P.A.D. up and shouted into it. “This is Captain DuHart. Emergency response teams are to be deployed immediately, supplement the outpost personnel.”

She looked around, her gun still in her hand. Standing a few feet beside her and to her right was most of someone’s leg from below the knee, charred and paired by another beside it that had fallen over, all that remained of an unfortunate pedestrian. To DuHart’s left was pandemonium as fire began to take a ruined shop, people crowding just outside. Stephanie holstered her weapon, and manually closed her Remlok mask.

“Step away, Emergency Services will arrive soon. I will do what I can. Please step aside. Don’t become another casualty.” She spoke to each member of a family that had made it out, to try and keep them from going back in for who remained.

The fire suppression systems inside were fighting the plasma, slowly winning the battle against Federal weapons engineers. Stephanie called through the smoke but got no response. Shouts and cries from outside were making it difficult to be sure.

The bolt of plasma had cut through the windows and exploded when it hit the back wall of the store. Stephanie made her way to what was left of the counter and found him. He’d been flayed, one of his arms was a stump.

Captain DuHart couldn’t believe he was still alive, let alone trying to crawl. She knelt beside what was left of the man, he was blinded and disoriented, fighting his way deeper inside rather than to safety.

“Stop, let me help you.” Captain DuHart said, knowing her offer was a lie.

He said nothing coherent in reply but kept trying to crawl away. She held the least burned part of his shoulders to stop him, again offering to help.

“Why?” He managed a word, DuHart knew the only way left to help the man was closure.

“Because I am a fool.” Stephanie gave him honesty

“You?” His reply was sullen, rasping.

“I’ve failed my duties, my apology is meaningless but you have it.” DuHart looked into his remaining eye, hoping it could see her. “I am sorry.”

He turned away, and again began to try and crawl.

“They are safe, all eight are outside.” Stephanie hoped they would not have to watch him die so gruesomely, she had also hoped he would be able to hate her for what had happened. She could understand that.

“Nine!” He gasped, scrabbling ineffectually at the floor. Stephanie suddenly saw where he was failing to work his way towards. There were stairs in the back of the shop.

Stairs to an apartment. There should be nine people outside. The Captain shot up from her place on the floor and stormed past the dying man. DuHart did not have the time to even look his way, but he stopped crawling when he saw her move. He was dead before her return to the ground floor, he died seeing a hero taking galloping strides in a white and blue uniform, saving his grandson. A few minutes before Stephanie DuHart slowly trudged back down the stairs.

She was carrying the baby, wrapped in it’s bed-sheets, streaking her uniform with red stains. The second story window had been shattered by the differential pressure downstairs, pulling the shards of glass inwards with deadly velocity. The child’s crib had been placed near the window, he liked to watch the street. The door to the nursery had ripped through the jam in the blast, the crib was toppled. The Navy would pay for all of the funerals.

The hate Stephanie had expected from the man inside was delivered eight-fold back on the street. She gave the baby to a paramedic, and waited in silence the few moments it took for him to pronounce death. Then the family began to scream at her.

She looked into each of their eyes, tasting their hate, savoring it. Stephanie knew she deserved their ire, it was scarcely a droplet of the torrent she deserved. She did not defend herself, she held her expression stoically, showing none of her pain.

They needed her to be the cold unfeeling bastard who had just killed their loved ones. The Imperial Navy would see to their worldly pains, but now it was DuHart’s duty to be the whetstone against which they sharpened their ephemeral hurt. Stephanie could bare it, in truth she felt a twisted satisfaction from it. For a moment she had been worried how she would accept being ‘The Hero’, for only pulling one of them out. Stephanie did not need to hate herself for having that thought, there was a chorus of others to do it for her just then.

The fires were felled, and casualties were seen to. The Captain returned to her vessel, rapidly showered and put on a fresh uniform. Her bloodied one was shoved angrily into the disposal chute, lest it be cleaned and returned to her wardrobe. Then over a delayed transmission, The Admiral told DuHart that this bode well for her career. He told her that the tacit nature of the execution of her operation had been noted positively. The Captain thanked him and hoped the low resolution of her image would hide her pursed lips. Her orders were to return to the core of Imperial space, but The Admiral admitted that there was no need to rush.

Stephanie saluted his image and waited the awkwardly extended time it took for him to see, then for his salute to make it back to her. Her arm eventually fell to her side, as the screen went dark. She breathed for a moment while continuing to sit at her desk. The light in her office was bright and harsh, the door was locked.

Circles, oblong loops like a highly eccentric orbit. Impossible to track properly, constantly defeating all projections. Yet always returning to the same place, inexorably. Stephanie wanted to throw everything off of her desk, maybe scream at her pens a little. She resisted the pointless urge. Pens belonged on desks. As deeply upset as she was with the situation, she couldn’t disrupt something that fit so nicely into its place.

Captain DuHart reached out and took up one of those pens, then gestured at the surface of her desk to liven it. She brought up an incident report template and began to scribble truncated notes into it. Stephanie had no idea how long this task could take her.

“Stephanie?” Her Pallaca called through the door as she knocked on it. “The light has switched off. I can speak, yes?”

“Yes, go on.” DuHart replied. She should have let her inside to speak, but politeness was being defeated by dismay.

“I thought you would take longer with your call. Supper will be ready in half of an hour.” The girl declared.

“That is perfect, thank you.” DuHart felt a tiny worry lift away. “I will join you, then.” The report would take no more than thirty minutes to fill out.

- 16 -

The girl had prepared a traditional Imperial meal, thin noodles with a seasoned tomato sauce. Chopped garlic and olives. Before meeting Stephanie, the girl had never thought to substitute anything for the salted small fish the recipe called for. But Stephanie’s Pallaca found diced salt-meat and mushrooms to be far superior to the original.

They ate quietly, enjoying their meal. The girl brought out bowls of mixed berries and whipped cream for dessert. Stephanie offered to clear the table, the girl smiled as she moved to their bedroom to await DuHart’s arrival.

The girl wore one of her new linen gowns, and laid across their bed. When Stephanie arrived she shrugged her uniform jacket off immediately, then began to work on her shirt buttons as she crossed the room. Stephanie’s Pallaca watched her march to the closet and disappear inside of it without a word.

Stephanie emerged a few minutes later, clad in her own linen gown. She slowly approached their bed and lowered herself into it, remaining a handful of centimeters away from the girl. Stephanie pulled the duvet over them both, then wrapped her arms around herself.

“Is everything alright?” The girl asked quietly.

Stephanie closed her eyes, and tightened her grip. She took a deep breath and held it for a moment, before letting it out hesitantly and slowly opening her eyes. DuHart looked at the girl and blinked, then reached out under the covers to touch her. To make sure she was truly there.

The girl took Stephanie’s hand from her bicep and entwined their fingers. Stephanie visibly loosened, her shoulders softening and her other hand relinquishing herself to caress the girl’s cheek.

“Yes.” Stephanie said with a sigh. “Everything is alright.”

DuHart wrapped her free arm around the girl and pulled her close. The girl entwined her free hand behind Stephanie’s neck and through her hair. Their fingers were locked together, pressed into the combined warmth of their breasts.

Stephanie’s Pallaca pressed their lips together for a kiss. Stephanie did not open her mouth for the girl’s tongue, even though she reciprocated with her lips. The Concubine ran her fingers through the Trans-Human’s hair towards her ear, then began caressing it between her thumb and the rest of her fingers. Stephanie made a groaning sound.

DuHart took her hand off the girl’s back and covered her face as a sob escaped her. The girl became worried and stayed her hand on Stephanie’s ear. DuHart turned her face into the pillow, away from the girl.

“Don’t stop.” Stephanie’s sobbed words were muffled.

The girl nuzzled up to Stephanie pressing her forehead to her lover’s temple. Stephanie’s Pallaca began again to massage her ear, running her fingers up and down along it, inside and out.

“Everything is fine, I’ve got you.” The girl murmured.

Stephanie’s legs curled up, holding the girl’s hips between her thighs. She remained silent as tears flowed from her and the girl gave her comfort. Stephanie was able to feel her grief, the girl was there to hold her and keep her in place. DuHart cried for the dead, and her responsibility for their passing, but that was not all.

DuHart wept for Dufresne. They had known each-other, long ago. Not like the girl, but enough at the time. As youths, she and DuHart had held hands on occasion or talked, when they needed to, and They weren’t watching. A friend to DuHart, but Stephanie of all people, knew better than to trust a Shadow Operative.

The girl kissed her again, this time Stephanie allowed her insistent tongue between her teeth. For only a moment did Stephanie resist, before she was taken by the girl. Stephanie’s Pallaca wrapped her tongue around Stephanie’s, as she dragged her fingernails down the back of DuHart’s fur covered ear.

Stephanie’s jaw twitched, biting the girl’s tongue nearly painfully. The Concubine moaned into DuHart’s mouth and pressed her tongue into Stephanie’s as hard as she could. DuHart wanted to relinquish the girl from her mouth, before she hurt her. But the girl’s moans and fingers were too enthralling, Stephanie was unable to think clearly or quickly enough.

The girl’s blood tasted of her lust and her love and her excitement. Her tongue twitched away from DuHart’s for a moment, pressing against the roof of Stephanie’s mouth and the back of her teeth. Then she continued to dance her tongue around DuHart’s unabated, Stephanie squeezed the girl between her knees and quivered.

The girl let go of DuHart’s hand and pulled her arm out from between them, Stephanie wrapped her arms around the girl tightly. Stephanie’s Pallaca adjusted their positioning so she rested on top of DuHart who now lay on her back. The girl held Stephanie by her ears while they kissed.

DuHart planted her feet with her heels against her bum, to hold the girl’s legs between her own. She ran her fingers through the girl’s hair, there was so much of it and she kept it so smooth. Stephanie sucked on Her Pallaca’s tongue, running her lips up and down it. The pinprick Stephanie had pierced had already stopped bleeding, Stephanie groaned as the girl pulled her tongue out of DuHart’s mouth.

The girl sat up, slowly pulling her legs through DuHart’s thighs. She straddled Stephanie and leaned back against her legs, resting her head against DuHart’s knees. The Trans-Human reached up for her lover, so the girl placed her hands into Stephanie’s, who gripped them tightly. The girl squeezed Stephanie between her thighs and leaned in close again.

“It’s about time I fucked you, isn’t it?” The girl asked in a sultry tone.

Stephanie relinquished her Mate’s hands and caressed her own breasts beneath the gown. Her answer was positive and given clearly. The girl crawled down Stephanie, forcing her way between the Trans-Human’s legs. The Concubine put her feet on the floor, at the foot of the bed. The girl pulled Stephanie's dress up, revealing her bare legs and torso.

The girl felt a tingle run through her as she looked at the mixed browns and reds of the fur on Stephanie’s legs. She shifted her gaze to the beautiful pearly fur on her lover’s toned belly. The girl was always excited by Stephanie’s fur, but on that night she found a delicious surprise under her lover’s dress.

“Are you wearing my panties, Stephanie?” She didn’t need to ask, she could see them. They were enticingly too small on DuHart.

“Yes, I only have plain pairs. I hope you don’t mind.” Stephanie’s embarrassment shone through her breathy excitement.

“How do they feel?” The girl tested with her fingers as she asked.

“A little tight. But...” Stephanie lifted herself a little to reveal her bottom. The girl’s underwear fit too low on DuHart to interfere with her tail, or completely cover her rump. “They aren’t totally uncomfortable.”

“Have you come in my panties?” The girl could feel how moist DuHart was beneath the borrowed underwear. The pair the girl wore were encountering a similar fate.

“Yes, I have. My Lady.” DuHart whispered.

“Lupa non-capistri.” The girl accused, grinning.

She pulled her panties off DuHart and gripped them at her knees. The girl pushed Stephanie's legs, pressing them against her body. She brought DuHart’s knees, and the underwear strung between them, to Stephanie’s face. The girl leaned close again, the underwear stretched taught. A thin piece of green and blue-star-speckled cotton separating the lovers.

“Can you smell yourself?” The girl asked.

“Y-yes.” Stephanie trembled as she answered.

“Can you smell me?” The girl’s question was quiet and drawn out.

“Yes, yes I ca- Rrgh!” Stephanie was cut off when the girl leveraged her weight onto Stephanie’s legs and gagged her with the underwear taught between her knees.

"Bite them.” The girl commanded. “Stay.”

Stephanie held the intoxicating cloth between her teeth as the girl worked her way carefully back down Stephanie’s body. She gently brushed her hands up and down DuHart’s thighs and presented bottom. The linen dress Stephanie wore was bunched up and gathered at her waist. The girl used her fingernails to slowly comb the fur on Stephanie’s backside. The Trans-Human let out a short burst of her deep warble, before jamming her lips shut. Looking her lover over, the girl breathed heavily and smiled slyly.

The girl slipped her middle and forefinger into Stephanie, then rotated her wrist to bring up her thumb. Stephanie’s thighs tensed as the girl began to caress her clitoris, while she worked her fingers inside. Stephanie was able to stay silent until the girl grasped the base of her tail firmly, and stroked it to where the tip was.

“Make me yours.” Stephanie was muffled by her own ecstasy, and the girl’s panties.

“Quiet, whore.” The girl inched her grip on Stephanie’s tail as tight to her as she could, her knuckle pressing against DuHart’s ass. She took her other hand out of Stephanie for a moment, to go back in with all of her fingers.

Stephanie held the girl’s underwear with her bottom teeth as she rolled her head back and warbled freely. Stephanie’s Pallaca knew her lover needed an evening without worry, and she was eager to help. Stephanie wearing a Pallaca’s gown and borrowing the panties, were gifts from DuHart to her. The girl meant to repay that kindness, it would take most of the night.