Though six such beings had been more than enough to transport Beka to the
low, stone building, it took nearly twice that many to carry Tyr's great
bulk there. Groaning vocally at the effort, with grey hands slipping in
the blood and sweat on the brown skin, the creatures finally managed to
bring the Nietzschean's body within. Throughout, the watcher kept an eye
on the proceedings, occasionally intervening in the strange language of the
grey-furred beings.
Beka heard a stir in the hallway, but as the bed to which she was secured faced the wall, she was unable to see what was making the noise. The clicking footsteps and high-pitched chattering continued past her room, and she relaxed again as the sounds faded. No intervention yet, apparently.
"I think I've found them!" Rommie's voice was unusually excited. "They appear to be together on this planet." The drawing of the small system enlarged on the forward viewscreens, and a point began to flash on the western edge of a large land mass in one of the smaller planets on the other side of the sun from the trader's planet.
"Great," moaned Harper. "Now all we need to do is figure out how to get them outta there with those Ogami breathing down the backs of our necks."
Dylan's brow creased as he thought for a moment. "Trance, can you bring Galil up here to see if she has any ideas about this?"
"OK, Dylan, I'll go get her." Trance disappeared from the Com deck, as Dylan stood watching the flashing point on the planet's surface, trying, in the absence of the Maru, to figure out how to extract his crewmembers without the Ogami shooting them down.
As the noises faded into the corridor outside Beka's rough cell, she got back to work in earnest on loosening her bonds. The harsh, deep voice that sounded from behind her made her jump.
"Do not attempt to free yourself." The voice was forbidding, but it spoke in Common.
"Then why don't you free me." It was not a request.
A low laugh answered her, and the voice, sounding insufferably smug, returned, "I don't think so." As it spoke the voice moved closer to her, until Beka, straining anew at her bindings, could see a massive cloaked figure in front of her. The figure appeared even taller than Tyr, and the deep voice sounded almost disembodied as it issued from the cavernous folds of fabric.
"Why the hell not? What do you want with me?" Beka demanded, firing up. "This is ridiculous!"
"Well, yes, on that front we concur. It is ridiculous that I am drawn to these lengths to secure a breeding partner." For a moment, the figure raised one sleeve to reveal an impressive set of bone spurs.
Beka spluttered,"B - breeding partner? I don't think so! Besides, you're an Uber, and in case you haven't noticed, I've got really naked forearms."
"And much else," the note that had entered the Niet's voice was ugly and salacious, making Beka swallow hard.
She forced herself to still sound tough. "You haven't answered the question, O Superior Genes. Why would you even consider a human as a breeding partner?"
With an abrupt gesture the figure threw the hood back from his face. "Because I cannot get anyone else!" he roared, and Beka, starring at his mutilated countenance with horror, could well believe it. As he approached the bed it took all she had not to whimper.
Instead, her voice was very low and very clear. "Don't. Even. Think. About. It."
His laugh sounded again, even more terrible than before. "But I am thinking about it, Kludge. And soon, very soon, I'm going to act on it." With that, he turned and swung from the room, leaving Beka, despite her determined bravado, trembling in reaction.
The other Nietzschean lay dying. Blood loss, repeated injury, exhaustion and exposure had all combined to exceed the limits of even his formidable, engineered constitution. The tall figure, cloaked again, stood looking down at him, debating what to do next. Should he, Hallow out of Mirrella by Hellorian, try to save his fellow Niet, or should he just let the man die?
The taller man's mangled face set in bitter lines within its enveloping cloak. Why should he lift a finger to save a specimen of his own race? His fellow Nietzscheans had reviled him from birth, and the savage taunting and beatings that he'd received as a young man had further marred his countenance and acceptability among others of his race. Why had his parents not drowned him when they first set eyes on his defective face? Split upper lip, non-existent nose, misshapen eyes - his own visage was the ugliest thing Hallow had ever seen.
And no matter what he had displayed, what battles he'd won in the sparring ring, what feats of bravery he'd accomplished for his Pride, females had reviled him. His resentment and frustration had eventually led him to sacrifice the grudging acceptance he'd won by trying to force a young woman to become his mate.
He had failed, of course; intervention from others had come just in time to prevent his assaulting the woman. The resulting rage of the Pride had driven him forever from his home; he had barely escaped with the clothes on his back and a small spacecraft. Blinded by rage and regret, he'd piloted carelessly until nearly out of fuel. He'd been forced to land on this backwater planet, and he had not much cared if he lived or died after that.
Which ultimately had helped him. For when the gray, furry creatures who now served him first found him by the banks of a stream, his complete indifference to his fate had led him to display no fear of the sentient animals. In return, they left him alone. Hallow's blank rage and despair had muted, over time, into a reluctant interest in the workings of their pack; his superior intellect and formidable fighting skills had eventually allowed him to assume leadership over the group with a minimum of conflict.
And so things had remained, for nearly a dozen years. No one came to the unspoiled planet, and he was unable to depart. When he'd received the report of the starship crashing into the lake, he'd been at first incredulous and then hopeful. His hopes had sunk with the ship, but then further reports had brought him news of the blond stranger and her Niet companion. The reports had been very specific in the degree of care they'd seen the Nietzschean bestow on his friend, and Hallow's hope had begun to stir in a darker direction.
A human, yes, but who cared? At this point, any companionship would be welcome. And she was clearly in need of his help. He was determined to help cure her, so he sent his pack to fetch her. Once he'd set eyes on her, however, his goals had changed further. True, she was human, but she was also lovely, with a tough lean loveliness that challenged him. No longer was companionship the goal he sought.
But what about the Nietzschean lying before him? He had every reason, Hallow acknowledged, to just leave him to die, to let the man expire without any intervention. Clearly this man would not be supportive of Hallow's goal to impregnate his friend. But somehow, at some unacknowledged level, Hallow wanted more than an unwilling mate. If he saved this man, if he kept him separate from the woman, mightn't he earn himself a friend through the gratitude he would be owed?
Briefly, Hallow considered it.then decided to risk it. Twelve years without conversation with another Nietzschean was too long. He hungered for companionship, and he lusted for sexual fulfillment. If he kept them both, he could have both - so long as they were kept separate, unaware of each other. With a barking cry Hallow summoned the most skilled healers in his pack. They would have to work in haste if they were going to save him.
"I'm sorry, Dylan, but I don't know anything about this system or why Tyr and Beka would have been brought here." Galil's voice was apologetic, and Dylan, after a frowning glance in her direction, nodded.
"OK." He sighed briefly. "Harper, any brilliant ideas about how to handle this -." Again Dylan's voice was interrupted by klaxons blaring.
"Dylan, we have multiple Slipstream events as well as a planetary launch." Immediately the ship was rocked by fire as the three cruisers, their waiting now explained, raced back to fire zone. "Twenty two incoming Ogami cruisers as well as a small fleet from the planet. They'll be in range in under a minute."
"Hell! Harper, can we Slipstream?"
"Just barely, Boss, and we'll have to do it right NOW."
"Go, then, and we'll come back with a better plan for retrieving them."
"Going." Harper made the ship leap into the Slipstream, ignoring, at first, the strange vessel following them.
"I hope they'll be okay." Trance's voice sounded unusually young and uncertain, and the frown between Dylan's brows grew as he heard her.
"Me, too, Trance. Me, too. But we'll be right back."
"I hope so.." Voice trailing off, Trance left the Com deck, leaving Dylan frowning after her.
When the tall figure returned to her bedside, Beka had her arguments ready. "You don't really want to do this, you know," she said, almost conversationally.
"Not until I'm sure you're well enough to bear my child, anyway. Humans have a difficult enough time carrying Nietzschean babies without starting out ill."
"No, no, no, I mean, you don't want to do this at all. Even with the accident that has -."
"Accident?" he spat. "You think this was caused by an accident? No, this is what my DNA proscribed. This is what I was BORN looking like!" Thrusting his deformed visage in her face, the Nietzschean practically howled his last words.
Beka blinked a few times, fighting to control the tremor in her voice before she began again. "But. isn't that a good reason not to have children?"
"The odds are in my favor. My child will likely not be marred, and he will accept me from birth as his father, unaware that I am different from others."
Beka bit her lip, then tried again. "Even so. you can't want a mate you get *this* way. Why not untie me and give me a chance to get to know you? I am not.uninterested in Nietzscheans; perhaps we can come to an arrangement."
The tall man was silent, as if weighing her words. He had caught the trace of emotion under her "uninterested" comment and was working hard to betray no indication of his awareness of her meaning. After a time, he answered her. "I can't risk it. This is the only way I can be *sure* that I'll get you. And I will get you, as soon as you are better."
"Then I will try my hardest to remain sick or die!" With that defiance, Beka closed her eyes and turned her face away, only to be wrenched back by an ungentle hand under her chin.
"I wouldn't," the monstrous visage came close once again, "count on it." The voice was cold and low, and Beka couldn't prevent her involuntary shudder. With a brief, bitter laugh, the disfigured Nietzschean threw her chin away and stalked out of the room.
Once again, the second time in as many weeks, Tyr came to consciousness wishing that he hadn't. The pain tore through him, wracking his figure until his back arched unconsciously to try to ease its tearing grip. Gritty eyes snapped open as he felt the touch of a gentle hand on his bicep; a sting spoke of an injection, and a flood of narcotic ease took him. His last thought was a vague astonishment that someone knew Nietzschean physiognomy well enough to inject him with a drug that was effective.
Klaxons began shrilling again, this time as the Andromeda was hurled through Slipstream. "Harper, what's wrong?" Dylan demanded, anxious eyes on the diminutive engineer.
"We seem to have picked up a tail and somehow it's warping the Slipstream around us!" Harper's usually irreverent voice sounded abruptly frantic. "I can't shake it!"
"Well, come out of Slipstream then, and let's see if we can get rid of it in normal space."
"I can't, Dylan! We're trapped in Slipstream, I don't know how to get out, and the 'Stream behind us is. changing, disfiguring. Even if I do get out, I can't get back to where Tyr and Beka are!" Harper's voice had devolved into outright panic.
"Harper, calm down. We'll figure it out. Just keep your mind on the Slipstream and keep trying to get us out of here, OK?"
"O-Okay, boss, I'll try," Harper said. His expression firmed, and he bent his considerable mental powers on trying to extricate his beloved starship from the deadly Slipstream trap they had all become caught in.
Despite Beka's efforts to stay awake and on guard, eventually sleep took her. As she rested, her body continued to heal, boosted in part by the nutrients and medication delivered via the IV still in her vein. When she awoke many hours later, she almost despaired; the feeling of her strength returning now heralded the onset of a period she was quite certain would be hideous. Where was Tyr? Or for that matter, Dylan? Harper and the Andromeda even? Had they all abandoned her? Beka tried to remain calm, but she was fighting a losing battle.
Tyr's next awakening, many hours later, was also marked by desolation. His innate time sense was confirmed by the chrono still on his wrist; more than two days had passed since he last had seen Beka. Did she live? Was she somewhere in whatever building he found himself in? Reaching within his great strength, Tyr tried to rise and search for Beka, but he found, to his mingled shame and frustration, that he could not even make it to the door. Collapsing on the floor next to his rough bed, Tyr, too, despaired, fearing for Beka and hearing the echoes of Rommie's words in his head: "The only thing that Tyr Anasazi out of Victoria by Barbarossa fears is being alone.."
When the gray, furred creature came softly into the room, it chittered in surprise to see its patient on the floor. Calling down the hall for help, it reached down with its fellows and heaved the Nietzschean's unresisting body back up to the pallet. Tyr's eyes widened as they fell upon the unprepossessing countenances of the creatures helping him; his gaze sharpened as it traveled to the creature's clawed paws. These were the creatures that had carried Beka off, he was certain of it.
"Do you know what has happened to my friend?" Tyr's voice was rough and out of practice, the tone urgent. The creatures surrounding him exchanged what Tyr would swear was understanding glances, then one spoke to him in a language he did not understand. "My friend! Do you know where she is?" Tyr's voice was stronger, but he still did not receive an answer. "Wait!" he called as the creatures turned to leave, but his only answer was the sudden sting in his bicep as the remaining being gave him another injection. This time, as the narcotic took him under, his feeling was resentment. He had to find Beka.
Hallow grunted as he moved the heavy rocks from the cave. He was getting ready to have the human, who seemed much improved physically, moved from the building into this cavern. Having his two prisoners together in the same building was too risky; the other Nietzschean's first impulse had been to try to find his human friend, and Hallow could not chance that. Nor did he want to carry on his - he searched delicately for the right word here - his "courtship" of the female within the potential earshot of the Niet. He looked around him at the spacious cavern he had uncovered and sighed in satisfaction. This was where he would keep her, and once he secured the entry he could free her from the bed. That ought to improve her mood considerably.
Beka's mood very black indeed. Her arms were cramping from being held over her head, and she was more than tired of sessions with a bedpan. As the latest cramps swept over her shoulders, she threw back her head in frustration and anger and screamed wordlessly, as loud as she could. She could no longer endure this terrifying immobility and the hovering fate awaiting her!
At the sound of the scream, Tyr's eyes snapped open. Clearing his throat, and the mists left in his brain by the drugs, he struggled to shout back. "Beka? Beka was that you? Beka!" Gaining in urgency and volume, his voice began to ring through the hall of the stone house.
With a glad sob, Beka heard it and responded. "Tyr! Tyr, here I am! Where are you? Tyr!" Beka screamed as loudly as she could, tears of relief running down her face.
His face set in ferocious lines, Tyr staggered to his feet, ripping out the IV line he hadn't even noticed in his shoulder. With a few steps he weaved to the door, shouting, "Beka, I'm coming!" When he found the door locked he barely hesitated; gathering his strength, he took a few steps back and aimed a killing kick at the wood. With a splintering sound it gave way, and he crashed through it into the hall, turning blindly in the direction of Beka's continued cries.
A sea of gray-skinned creatures began erupting from surrounding doorways, but Tyr swept them aside with a careless arm and staggered through the door where Beka was still calling.
He took in her situation with an enraged glance, and turned and slammed the door to her cell closed. Snapping out his bone spurs, he broke the leather bindings holding her to the bed with two savage swipes. Tears streaked down her face as she fell into his arms, and for a moment they held each other, each relieved beyond measure to find the other alive.
The door behind them opened, and Tyr quickly stripped the IV from Beka's arm and put her behind him with a smooth movement. The furry face that met his gaze was obviously bewildered and concerned; Tyr held up one hand, finger extended, to stop its forward motion. Shaking his head at the animal, Tyr put his other arm around Beka and, cautiously side-stepping the gray furred being, helped her to her feet and guided her from the room. Behind them the creature chattered in dismay, and Beka, risking a glance over her shoulder, saw it wring its hands in a gesture of almost human despair.
Turning her face back to the front, she tightened her arm around Tyr's waist despite the sharp pain in both her shoulders. His tightened in return, as though he would never let go of her again, and, leading an unwanted parade of gray furred beings the two together swept from the doorway of the stone building. They had gone several steps into the forest when a savage voice rang out. "Stop!" it demanded, and unwillingly, they stopped, halted by the threat ringing through the angry tones.
Putting Beka behind him again, Tyr turned to face the tall figure across the clearing. The cloaked figure had a blaster aimed steadily at him, and Tyr's mouth set hard as he began to measure the odds of escape. From behind him, Beka murmured, "He's a disfigured Nietzschean, Tyr, and he said he wanted.." In her pause he read her fear and horror. "He said he would have me as his - his breeding partner." Beka sounded as if she couldn't even force the words from her lips.
A killing rage took Tyr at her words. He couldn't risk turning away from the threat to face her, but his mellifluous voice enveloped her. "Ahh, Beka," he groaned, empathetic pain ringing in his tones. "Did he touch you? Did he. harm you?"
"Thankfully, not yet, Tyr. And I'd rather not give him a second chance!"
"Agreed. You must get away. I will divert him so you can escape."
"No!" Strong arms clamped around his waist from behind. "No, I won't leave you here, Tyr. I won't."
"This is all so very touching," sneered the rough voice from across the clearing, "but I believe we can dispense with it. Your only value to me, Nietzschean, was if you didn't know what I was doing to your girlfriend. Since you DO know." Calmly, the renegade Niet raised the blaster and fired.
Divining his intent from the man's voice, Tyr shoved Beka in one direction and dove in the other, drawing the other Niet's successive shots away from his crewmate. Rolling, Tyr evaded the three blasts and ducked behind a tree, his breath heaving in his chest. Scrambling to his feet, Tyr took off running through the forest, hoping to draw the other Nietzschean as far away from Beka as possible.
But the Niet did not pursue him. Tyr stopped quickly and doubled back through the forest, rushing toward the clearing where he'd left Beka behind. In a tiny absent corner of his mind, he marveled at his unthinking willingness to risk his own survival to save Beka. When had she become so important to him that saving himself and abandoning her was literally inconceivable?
But he had no time for such introspection. Moving silently through the woods, Tyr crept back to the clearing to hear the other Niet's taunt. "Didn't take him too long to run out on you, did it, my dear? You'd best take my offer and enjoy it. With me, you could live as a queen on this planet, served by my Vupli and indulged in every wish. Reconsider, won't you? I'd hate to have to shoot you again."
Beka's voice was tight with pain as she replied. "No thanks. I'd rather be dead."
"You won't be dead, my dear, you'll only wish you were." Biting his lip, Tyr listened to Beka cry out again; then, all was silent. Tyr knew that the best chance they had of them both surviving this was for him to remain uncaptured, but it took every bit of his hard-won control to prevent himself from rushing out and jumping the other Niet, regardless of the consequences. Tyr's knuckles grew white as his clenched fists betrayed his rage and anguish.
Harper's hands were beginning to tremble slightly as he fought to hold the ship steady in Slipstream. They had been trapped in Slipstream for several hours, and Harper's endurance was nearly running out. He had already made numerous jumps in this day, and the physical demands of 'Streaming were particularly taxing on the slight human with the compromised immune system. Only the knowledge that his beloved Andromeda would be destroyed by his failure kept Harper upright and concentrating.
Beside him, Trance was frantically punching different scenarios into the computer to try to find a way to exit Slipstream. Dylan paced on the other side, urgently trying, too, to figure out a way out of the trap they had found themselves caught in. Behind the Andromeda, the small tailgater followed relentlessly, its pilot intent on remaining close to the fleeing ship.
Galil had come onto the bridge earlier, curious about their long spate in the Slipstream. When she'd come to understand what they were facing, her eyes had widened, and she had excused herself to return to her son. Dylan spared an absent thought for her, hoping she wasn't too terrified. As if brought to life by his thought, Galil's voice sounded over the communicator.
"Dylan, I have an idea." She spoke in clipped tones, as if appreciating that he would not want his attention diverted for long.
"Let's hear it."
"I know you can't fire any weapons in Slipstream, but could Andromeda open a hangar door or two and leave some debris where our follower might fly into it?"
Dylan thought for a split second, then nodded to an anxious Rommie. "Do it," he directed. "Galil, there's not a great chance that rubbish will end up where we want it to go, but it's worth a shot. Thanks!"
"Believe me, no thanks necessary," Galil's response was heartfelt, and Dylan nodded in sympathy.
At first, Rommie's sabotage efforts met with no success. A succession of loose items was let go from different hangars, but the pursuing ship whizzed harmlessly by them all. After several minutes, however, Rommie's aim, with the help of Trance's deployment tracking, got much better, and she was ultimately able to release a large chunk of rock directly in the path of the following vessel.
What followed was very satisfying. The strange ship veered off, then flipped out of Slipstream, obviously deteriorating as it went. With a sigh of pure relief, Harper took the Andromeda out of the 'Stream as well, sagging in relief at the pilot's station as normal space reappeared around them.
"Boss, we've just gotta get some chairs in here, OK? Now I'm gonna go sleep for a week!" With that, weaving slightly, Harper aimed toward the door.
"Mr. Harper," Dylan's voice stopped him, and Harper turned dumbly to face his captain. "Nice work."
A tired grin briefly light the face under blond hair even more wildly rumpled than usual, and then Harper left the Com deck. "Rommie, make sure he makes it to his quarters, OK?" The avatar nodded as she tracked his progress through her corridors.
"Now, Trance, let's see if we can figure out a way to get back." Turning back to the golden-skinned woman, Dylan leaned over the science station to examine alternate Slipstream routes back to the system where they'd left Beka and Tyr.
Tyr listened intently to the sounds of the forest, waiting to determine which direction to follow. From Beka's last cry, he deduced that she'd been hurt again, and was perhaps unconscious. Jaw tight, he moved quietly around the clearing until he learned just how wrong he was.
"OK, asshole, no more Ms. Nice Captain. I've had it with you and your 'irresistible' proposals." Beka's voice sounded clear and firm, widening the eyes of her listening crewmate. The sound of blows carried a good distance, prompting Tyr to jump back into the clearing, intent on evening up Beka's odds.
The site that met his slightly bemused gaze was astonishing. The tall Nietzschean, hood thrown back to reveal his marred features, was bent over, obviously clutching a very vulnerable area of his body. Despite his loathing for the man, Tyr winced in sympathy as Beka delivered a strong, two-handed blow to the back of the Niet's neck. "See what overconfidence can bring?" she taunted, as the Niet fell to his knees.
Turning, Beka saw Tyr watching, and a brief smile crossed her intent features. "I got tired of the whole damsel in distress thing, you know?" she asked, pivoting with a kick that he'd worked many hours in the gym to teach her. Her outstretched foot connected with the downed Nietzschean's head with a satisfying thwack, and both watched as the Niet's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the ground in a boneless heap.
"There," Beka said, dusting off her hands elaborately. "And let that be a lesson to you, too, Tyr, not to underestimate humans." In an absent corner of her mind she was profoundly grateful, given the kick she'd just used, that she had left on her shoes throughout this ordeal.
"I'll never underestimate you, at any rate," Tyr returned, eyes lit with relief and something more.
"No more weakest link discussions," she agreed. Leaning over her adversary's body, she quickly and systematically removed everything they could use from it, including the cloak which she hastily wrapped around her scantily clad body. "Let's get out of here," she said, tossing the blaster to Tyr. With one accord, they turned and made their way out of the deadly clearing, moving quickly to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the aberrant Niet.
Beka heard a stir in the hallway, but as the bed to which she was secured faced the wall, she was unable to see what was making the noise. The clicking footsteps and high-pitched chattering continued past her room, and she relaxed again as the sounds faded. No intervention yet, apparently.
"I think I've found them!" Rommie's voice was unusually excited. "They appear to be together on this planet." The drawing of the small system enlarged on the forward viewscreens, and a point began to flash on the western edge of a large land mass in one of the smaller planets on the other side of the sun from the trader's planet.
"Great," moaned Harper. "Now all we need to do is figure out how to get them outta there with those Ogami breathing down the backs of our necks."
Dylan's brow creased as he thought for a moment. "Trance, can you bring Galil up here to see if she has any ideas about this?"
"OK, Dylan, I'll go get her." Trance disappeared from the Com deck, as Dylan stood watching the flashing point on the planet's surface, trying, in the absence of the Maru, to figure out how to extract his crewmembers without the Ogami shooting them down.
As the noises faded into the corridor outside Beka's rough cell, she got back to work in earnest on loosening her bonds. The harsh, deep voice that sounded from behind her made her jump.
"Do not attempt to free yourself." The voice was forbidding, but it spoke in Common.
"Then why don't you free me." It was not a request.
A low laugh answered her, and the voice, sounding insufferably smug, returned, "I don't think so." As it spoke the voice moved closer to her, until Beka, straining anew at her bindings, could see a massive cloaked figure in front of her. The figure appeared even taller than Tyr, and the deep voice sounded almost disembodied as it issued from the cavernous folds of fabric.
"Why the hell not? What do you want with me?" Beka demanded, firing up. "This is ridiculous!"
"Well, yes, on that front we concur. It is ridiculous that I am drawn to these lengths to secure a breeding partner." For a moment, the figure raised one sleeve to reveal an impressive set of bone spurs.
Beka spluttered,"B - breeding partner? I don't think so! Besides, you're an Uber, and in case you haven't noticed, I've got really naked forearms."
"And much else," the note that had entered the Niet's voice was ugly and salacious, making Beka swallow hard.
She forced herself to still sound tough. "You haven't answered the question, O Superior Genes. Why would you even consider a human as a breeding partner?"
With an abrupt gesture the figure threw the hood back from his face. "Because I cannot get anyone else!" he roared, and Beka, starring at his mutilated countenance with horror, could well believe it. As he approached the bed it took all she had not to whimper.
Instead, her voice was very low and very clear. "Don't. Even. Think. About. It."
His laugh sounded again, even more terrible than before. "But I am thinking about it, Kludge. And soon, very soon, I'm going to act on it." With that, he turned and swung from the room, leaving Beka, despite her determined bravado, trembling in reaction.
The other Nietzschean lay dying. Blood loss, repeated injury, exhaustion and exposure had all combined to exceed the limits of even his formidable, engineered constitution. The tall figure, cloaked again, stood looking down at him, debating what to do next. Should he, Hallow out of Mirrella by Hellorian, try to save his fellow Niet, or should he just let the man die?
The taller man's mangled face set in bitter lines within its enveloping cloak. Why should he lift a finger to save a specimen of his own race? His fellow Nietzscheans had reviled him from birth, and the savage taunting and beatings that he'd received as a young man had further marred his countenance and acceptability among others of his race. Why had his parents not drowned him when they first set eyes on his defective face? Split upper lip, non-existent nose, misshapen eyes - his own visage was the ugliest thing Hallow had ever seen.
And no matter what he had displayed, what battles he'd won in the sparring ring, what feats of bravery he'd accomplished for his Pride, females had reviled him. His resentment and frustration had eventually led him to sacrifice the grudging acceptance he'd won by trying to force a young woman to become his mate.
He had failed, of course; intervention from others had come just in time to prevent his assaulting the woman. The resulting rage of the Pride had driven him forever from his home; he had barely escaped with the clothes on his back and a small spacecraft. Blinded by rage and regret, he'd piloted carelessly until nearly out of fuel. He'd been forced to land on this backwater planet, and he had not much cared if he lived or died after that.
Which ultimately had helped him. For when the gray, furry creatures who now served him first found him by the banks of a stream, his complete indifference to his fate had led him to display no fear of the sentient animals. In return, they left him alone. Hallow's blank rage and despair had muted, over time, into a reluctant interest in the workings of their pack; his superior intellect and formidable fighting skills had eventually allowed him to assume leadership over the group with a minimum of conflict.
And so things had remained, for nearly a dozen years. No one came to the unspoiled planet, and he was unable to depart. When he'd received the report of the starship crashing into the lake, he'd been at first incredulous and then hopeful. His hopes had sunk with the ship, but then further reports had brought him news of the blond stranger and her Niet companion. The reports had been very specific in the degree of care they'd seen the Nietzschean bestow on his friend, and Hallow's hope had begun to stir in a darker direction.
A human, yes, but who cared? At this point, any companionship would be welcome. And she was clearly in need of his help. He was determined to help cure her, so he sent his pack to fetch her. Once he'd set eyes on her, however, his goals had changed further. True, she was human, but she was also lovely, with a tough lean loveliness that challenged him. No longer was companionship the goal he sought.
But what about the Nietzschean lying before him? He had every reason, Hallow acknowledged, to just leave him to die, to let the man expire without any intervention. Clearly this man would not be supportive of Hallow's goal to impregnate his friend. But somehow, at some unacknowledged level, Hallow wanted more than an unwilling mate. If he saved this man, if he kept him separate from the woman, mightn't he earn himself a friend through the gratitude he would be owed?
Briefly, Hallow considered it.then decided to risk it. Twelve years without conversation with another Nietzschean was too long. He hungered for companionship, and he lusted for sexual fulfillment. If he kept them both, he could have both - so long as they were kept separate, unaware of each other. With a barking cry Hallow summoned the most skilled healers in his pack. They would have to work in haste if they were going to save him.
"I'm sorry, Dylan, but I don't know anything about this system or why Tyr and Beka would have been brought here." Galil's voice was apologetic, and Dylan, after a frowning glance in her direction, nodded.
"OK." He sighed briefly. "Harper, any brilliant ideas about how to handle this -." Again Dylan's voice was interrupted by klaxons blaring.
"Dylan, we have multiple Slipstream events as well as a planetary launch." Immediately the ship was rocked by fire as the three cruisers, their waiting now explained, raced back to fire zone. "Twenty two incoming Ogami cruisers as well as a small fleet from the planet. They'll be in range in under a minute."
"Hell! Harper, can we Slipstream?"
"Just barely, Boss, and we'll have to do it right NOW."
"Go, then, and we'll come back with a better plan for retrieving them."
"Going." Harper made the ship leap into the Slipstream, ignoring, at first, the strange vessel following them.
"I hope they'll be okay." Trance's voice sounded unusually young and uncertain, and the frown between Dylan's brows grew as he heard her.
"Me, too, Trance. Me, too. But we'll be right back."
"I hope so.." Voice trailing off, Trance left the Com deck, leaving Dylan frowning after her.
When the tall figure returned to her bedside, Beka had her arguments ready. "You don't really want to do this, you know," she said, almost conversationally.
"Not until I'm sure you're well enough to bear my child, anyway. Humans have a difficult enough time carrying Nietzschean babies without starting out ill."
"No, no, no, I mean, you don't want to do this at all. Even with the accident that has -."
"Accident?" he spat. "You think this was caused by an accident? No, this is what my DNA proscribed. This is what I was BORN looking like!" Thrusting his deformed visage in her face, the Nietzschean practically howled his last words.
Beka blinked a few times, fighting to control the tremor in her voice before she began again. "But. isn't that a good reason not to have children?"
"The odds are in my favor. My child will likely not be marred, and he will accept me from birth as his father, unaware that I am different from others."
Beka bit her lip, then tried again. "Even so. you can't want a mate you get *this* way. Why not untie me and give me a chance to get to know you? I am not.uninterested in Nietzscheans; perhaps we can come to an arrangement."
The tall man was silent, as if weighing her words. He had caught the trace of emotion under her "uninterested" comment and was working hard to betray no indication of his awareness of her meaning. After a time, he answered her. "I can't risk it. This is the only way I can be *sure* that I'll get you. And I will get you, as soon as you are better."
"Then I will try my hardest to remain sick or die!" With that defiance, Beka closed her eyes and turned her face away, only to be wrenched back by an ungentle hand under her chin.
"I wouldn't," the monstrous visage came close once again, "count on it." The voice was cold and low, and Beka couldn't prevent her involuntary shudder. With a brief, bitter laugh, the disfigured Nietzschean threw her chin away and stalked out of the room.
Once again, the second time in as many weeks, Tyr came to consciousness wishing that he hadn't. The pain tore through him, wracking his figure until his back arched unconsciously to try to ease its tearing grip. Gritty eyes snapped open as he felt the touch of a gentle hand on his bicep; a sting spoke of an injection, and a flood of narcotic ease took him. His last thought was a vague astonishment that someone knew Nietzschean physiognomy well enough to inject him with a drug that was effective.
Klaxons began shrilling again, this time as the Andromeda was hurled through Slipstream. "Harper, what's wrong?" Dylan demanded, anxious eyes on the diminutive engineer.
"We seem to have picked up a tail and somehow it's warping the Slipstream around us!" Harper's usually irreverent voice sounded abruptly frantic. "I can't shake it!"
"Well, come out of Slipstream then, and let's see if we can get rid of it in normal space."
"I can't, Dylan! We're trapped in Slipstream, I don't know how to get out, and the 'Stream behind us is. changing, disfiguring. Even if I do get out, I can't get back to where Tyr and Beka are!" Harper's voice had devolved into outright panic.
"Harper, calm down. We'll figure it out. Just keep your mind on the Slipstream and keep trying to get us out of here, OK?"
"O-Okay, boss, I'll try," Harper said. His expression firmed, and he bent his considerable mental powers on trying to extricate his beloved starship from the deadly Slipstream trap they had all become caught in.
Despite Beka's efforts to stay awake and on guard, eventually sleep took her. As she rested, her body continued to heal, boosted in part by the nutrients and medication delivered via the IV still in her vein. When she awoke many hours later, she almost despaired; the feeling of her strength returning now heralded the onset of a period she was quite certain would be hideous. Where was Tyr? Or for that matter, Dylan? Harper and the Andromeda even? Had they all abandoned her? Beka tried to remain calm, but she was fighting a losing battle.
Tyr's next awakening, many hours later, was also marked by desolation. His innate time sense was confirmed by the chrono still on his wrist; more than two days had passed since he last had seen Beka. Did she live? Was she somewhere in whatever building he found himself in? Reaching within his great strength, Tyr tried to rise and search for Beka, but he found, to his mingled shame and frustration, that he could not even make it to the door. Collapsing on the floor next to his rough bed, Tyr, too, despaired, fearing for Beka and hearing the echoes of Rommie's words in his head: "The only thing that Tyr Anasazi out of Victoria by Barbarossa fears is being alone.."
When the gray, furred creature came softly into the room, it chittered in surprise to see its patient on the floor. Calling down the hall for help, it reached down with its fellows and heaved the Nietzschean's unresisting body back up to the pallet. Tyr's eyes widened as they fell upon the unprepossessing countenances of the creatures helping him; his gaze sharpened as it traveled to the creature's clawed paws. These were the creatures that had carried Beka off, he was certain of it.
"Do you know what has happened to my friend?" Tyr's voice was rough and out of practice, the tone urgent. The creatures surrounding him exchanged what Tyr would swear was understanding glances, then one spoke to him in a language he did not understand. "My friend! Do you know where she is?" Tyr's voice was stronger, but he still did not receive an answer. "Wait!" he called as the creatures turned to leave, but his only answer was the sudden sting in his bicep as the remaining being gave him another injection. This time, as the narcotic took him under, his feeling was resentment. He had to find Beka.
Hallow grunted as he moved the heavy rocks from the cave. He was getting ready to have the human, who seemed much improved physically, moved from the building into this cavern. Having his two prisoners together in the same building was too risky; the other Nietzschean's first impulse had been to try to find his human friend, and Hallow could not chance that. Nor did he want to carry on his - he searched delicately for the right word here - his "courtship" of the female within the potential earshot of the Niet. He looked around him at the spacious cavern he had uncovered and sighed in satisfaction. This was where he would keep her, and once he secured the entry he could free her from the bed. That ought to improve her mood considerably.
Beka's mood very black indeed. Her arms were cramping from being held over her head, and she was more than tired of sessions with a bedpan. As the latest cramps swept over her shoulders, she threw back her head in frustration and anger and screamed wordlessly, as loud as she could. She could no longer endure this terrifying immobility and the hovering fate awaiting her!
At the sound of the scream, Tyr's eyes snapped open. Clearing his throat, and the mists left in his brain by the drugs, he struggled to shout back. "Beka? Beka was that you? Beka!" Gaining in urgency and volume, his voice began to ring through the hall of the stone house.
With a glad sob, Beka heard it and responded. "Tyr! Tyr, here I am! Where are you? Tyr!" Beka screamed as loudly as she could, tears of relief running down her face.
His face set in ferocious lines, Tyr staggered to his feet, ripping out the IV line he hadn't even noticed in his shoulder. With a few steps he weaved to the door, shouting, "Beka, I'm coming!" When he found the door locked he barely hesitated; gathering his strength, he took a few steps back and aimed a killing kick at the wood. With a splintering sound it gave way, and he crashed through it into the hall, turning blindly in the direction of Beka's continued cries.
A sea of gray-skinned creatures began erupting from surrounding doorways, but Tyr swept them aside with a careless arm and staggered through the door where Beka was still calling.
He took in her situation with an enraged glance, and turned and slammed the door to her cell closed. Snapping out his bone spurs, he broke the leather bindings holding her to the bed with two savage swipes. Tears streaked down her face as she fell into his arms, and for a moment they held each other, each relieved beyond measure to find the other alive.
The door behind them opened, and Tyr quickly stripped the IV from Beka's arm and put her behind him with a smooth movement. The furry face that met his gaze was obviously bewildered and concerned; Tyr held up one hand, finger extended, to stop its forward motion. Shaking his head at the animal, Tyr put his other arm around Beka and, cautiously side-stepping the gray furred being, helped her to her feet and guided her from the room. Behind them the creature chattered in dismay, and Beka, risking a glance over her shoulder, saw it wring its hands in a gesture of almost human despair.
Turning her face back to the front, she tightened her arm around Tyr's waist despite the sharp pain in both her shoulders. His tightened in return, as though he would never let go of her again, and, leading an unwanted parade of gray furred beings the two together swept from the doorway of the stone building. They had gone several steps into the forest when a savage voice rang out. "Stop!" it demanded, and unwillingly, they stopped, halted by the threat ringing through the angry tones.
Putting Beka behind him again, Tyr turned to face the tall figure across the clearing. The cloaked figure had a blaster aimed steadily at him, and Tyr's mouth set hard as he began to measure the odds of escape. From behind him, Beka murmured, "He's a disfigured Nietzschean, Tyr, and he said he wanted.." In her pause he read her fear and horror. "He said he would have me as his - his breeding partner." Beka sounded as if she couldn't even force the words from her lips.
A killing rage took Tyr at her words. He couldn't risk turning away from the threat to face her, but his mellifluous voice enveloped her. "Ahh, Beka," he groaned, empathetic pain ringing in his tones. "Did he touch you? Did he. harm you?"
"Thankfully, not yet, Tyr. And I'd rather not give him a second chance!"
"Agreed. You must get away. I will divert him so you can escape."
"No!" Strong arms clamped around his waist from behind. "No, I won't leave you here, Tyr. I won't."
"This is all so very touching," sneered the rough voice from across the clearing, "but I believe we can dispense with it. Your only value to me, Nietzschean, was if you didn't know what I was doing to your girlfriend. Since you DO know." Calmly, the renegade Niet raised the blaster and fired.
Divining his intent from the man's voice, Tyr shoved Beka in one direction and dove in the other, drawing the other Niet's successive shots away from his crewmate. Rolling, Tyr evaded the three blasts and ducked behind a tree, his breath heaving in his chest. Scrambling to his feet, Tyr took off running through the forest, hoping to draw the other Nietzschean as far away from Beka as possible.
But the Niet did not pursue him. Tyr stopped quickly and doubled back through the forest, rushing toward the clearing where he'd left Beka behind. In a tiny absent corner of his mind, he marveled at his unthinking willingness to risk his own survival to save Beka. When had she become so important to him that saving himself and abandoning her was literally inconceivable?
But he had no time for such introspection. Moving silently through the woods, Tyr crept back to the clearing to hear the other Niet's taunt. "Didn't take him too long to run out on you, did it, my dear? You'd best take my offer and enjoy it. With me, you could live as a queen on this planet, served by my Vupli and indulged in every wish. Reconsider, won't you? I'd hate to have to shoot you again."
Beka's voice was tight with pain as she replied. "No thanks. I'd rather be dead."
"You won't be dead, my dear, you'll only wish you were." Biting his lip, Tyr listened to Beka cry out again; then, all was silent. Tyr knew that the best chance they had of them both surviving this was for him to remain uncaptured, but it took every bit of his hard-won control to prevent himself from rushing out and jumping the other Niet, regardless of the consequences. Tyr's knuckles grew white as his clenched fists betrayed his rage and anguish.
Harper's hands were beginning to tremble slightly as he fought to hold the ship steady in Slipstream. They had been trapped in Slipstream for several hours, and Harper's endurance was nearly running out. He had already made numerous jumps in this day, and the physical demands of 'Streaming were particularly taxing on the slight human with the compromised immune system. Only the knowledge that his beloved Andromeda would be destroyed by his failure kept Harper upright and concentrating.
Beside him, Trance was frantically punching different scenarios into the computer to try to find a way to exit Slipstream. Dylan paced on the other side, urgently trying, too, to figure out a way out of the trap they had found themselves caught in. Behind the Andromeda, the small tailgater followed relentlessly, its pilot intent on remaining close to the fleeing ship.
Galil had come onto the bridge earlier, curious about their long spate in the Slipstream. When she'd come to understand what they were facing, her eyes had widened, and she had excused herself to return to her son. Dylan spared an absent thought for her, hoping she wasn't too terrified. As if brought to life by his thought, Galil's voice sounded over the communicator.
"Dylan, I have an idea." She spoke in clipped tones, as if appreciating that he would not want his attention diverted for long.
"Let's hear it."
"I know you can't fire any weapons in Slipstream, but could Andromeda open a hangar door or two and leave some debris where our follower might fly into it?"
Dylan thought for a split second, then nodded to an anxious Rommie. "Do it," he directed. "Galil, there's not a great chance that rubbish will end up where we want it to go, but it's worth a shot. Thanks!"
"Believe me, no thanks necessary," Galil's response was heartfelt, and Dylan nodded in sympathy.
At first, Rommie's sabotage efforts met with no success. A succession of loose items was let go from different hangars, but the pursuing ship whizzed harmlessly by them all. After several minutes, however, Rommie's aim, with the help of Trance's deployment tracking, got much better, and she was ultimately able to release a large chunk of rock directly in the path of the following vessel.
What followed was very satisfying. The strange ship veered off, then flipped out of Slipstream, obviously deteriorating as it went. With a sigh of pure relief, Harper took the Andromeda out of the 'Stream as well, sagging in relief at the pilot's station as normal space reappeared around them.
"Boss, we've just gotta get some chairs in here, OK? Now I'm gonna go sleep for a week!" With that, weaving slightly, Harper aimed toward the door.
"Mr. Harper," Dylan's voice stopped him, and Harper turned dumbly to face his captain. "Nice work."
A tired grin briefly light the face under blond hair even more wildly rumpled than usual, and then Harper left the Com deck. "Rommie, make sure he makes it to his quarters, OK?" The avatar nodded as she tracked his progress through her corridors.
"Now, Trance, let's see if we can figure out a way to get back." Turning back to the golden-skinned woman, Dylan leaned over the science station to examine alternate Slipstream routes back to the system where they'd left Beka and Tyr.
Tyr listened intently to the sounds of the forest, waiting to determine which direction to follow. From Beka's last cry, he deduced that she'd been hurt again, and was perhaps unconscious. Jaw tight, he moved quietly around the clearing until he learned just how wrong he was.
"OK, asshole, no more Ms. Nice Captain. I've had it with you and your 'irresistible' proposals." Beka's voice sounded clear and firm, widening the eyes of her listening crewmate. The sound of blows carried a good distance, prompting Tyr to jump back into the clearing, intent on evening up Beka's odds.
The site that met his slightly bemused gaze was astonishing. The tall Nietzschean, hood thrown back to reveal his marred features, was bent over, obviously clutching a very vulnerable area of his body. Despite his loathing for the man, Tyr winced in sympathy as Beka delivered a strong, two-handed blow to the back of the Niet's neck. "See what overconfidence can bring?" she taunted, as the Niet fell to his knees.
Turning, Beka saw Tyr watching, and a brief smile crossed her intent features. "I got tired of the whole damsel in distress thing, you know?" she asked, pivoting with a kick that he'd worked many hours in the gym to teach her. Her outstretched foot connected with the downed Nietzschean's head with a satisfying thwack, and both watched as the Niet's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the ground in a boneless heap.
"There," Beka said, dusting off her hands elaborately. "And let that be a lesson to you, too, Tyr, not to underestimate humans." In an absent corner of her mind she was profoundly grateful, given the kick she'd just used, that she had left on her shoes throughout this ordeal.
"I'll never underestimate you, at any rate," Tyr returned, eyes lit with relief and something more.
"No more weakest link discussions," she agreed. Leaning over her adversary's body, she quickly and systematically removed everything they could use from it, including the cloak which she hastily wrapped around her scantily clad body. "Let's get out of here," she said, tossing the blaster to Tyr. With one accord, they turned and made their way out of the deadly clearing, moving quickly to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the aberrant Niet.