Gravity loosened its hold on Varrik as the airlock opened, only his boots and his safety leash keeping him stubbornly anchored to the ship.

Halkrath's voice came, crackling through the helmet intercom, "The damage is located above the wing of the vessel."

The Rough Skull captain shrugged and they began to climb across, using their magnetised boots and gloves to maintain their grip on the hull. For Varrik, this was routine. He had been on border duty plenty of times. The Void Cutter's scout ships were old and battered and they frequently needed repairing. Often malfunctions or damage happened in open space and there wasn't the opportunity to return to the dreadnaught to do the maintenance, so scouts got used to carrying out the work on the fly.

As they crawled their way steadily across the body of the ship, he saw the damage: the tough alloy of the armour loosened and buckled by unimaginable force.

The two yautja took up position on either side of the breach, anchoring their feet firmly to the hull. Varrik took out a patching panel and began to clamp it down over the gap, using electromagnets to hold it in place. Meanwhile, Halkrath pulled the laser tool and began to weld the plate into place. As the scientist had explained it, once the breach in the hull was properly sealed the temperature of the chamber within the stealth unit would restabilise and it would start functioning again. He had little affection for Halkrath, but he knew they needed the scientist. Although Varrik was confident in his own ability to repair ordinary malfunctions, the stealth unit was a more delicate matter. Varrik was willing to cede all such technical matters to a specialist, just as he would have expected the scientist to follow him unquestioningly on the field of battle. He kept an eye on the blackness around them, averting his eyes from the blue glare of the laser tool.

Then he heard Halkrath speak through the helmet commlink, "Isaac, do you hear me?"

Varrik was so surprised at Halkrath's addressing the boy that he turned to look at him – and cursed as the flare of the laser burned away his night vision.

"Yes." Came the reply.

"Has the temperature around the unit stabilised now?"

There was a pause before Isaac answered, "Almost, I do not… think the breach is fully sealed yet."

Halkrath's helmet tipped up towards Varrik, who slapped another plate down on the rupture, "Try and seal it properly this time, lab worm." He growled.

"You wish to do it in my stead?"

"I wish to get back on board quickly. We are sitting targets here."

Halkrath worked on in silence for a few more minutes, "You feel antagonism towards me."

"I do." Varrik did not budge from where he was holding the plate in place, but he felt no discomfort in the admission. His dislike of Halkrath was no secret.

"Science is an honourable discipline, just as warfare is." Halkrath did not look up as he continued sealing the plate onto the hull, "Nar'Jat knows this. Rika knows it. S'Kia knew it."

"Why does that matter?" Varrik snarled.

He felt nettled at the mention of S'Kia's name. Of course, he knew they were carrying his sons on board and he knew S'Kia and Halkrath knew each other, had been on the same squad. He wondered what Rika had told the scientist. Uneasily, he tried to recall his drunken conversation with his fellow captain, trying to recall if he had said anything unguarded or shameful in his inebriated state that Rika might have passed on.

"Let us finish this task," He said, brusquely, "I – "

He was cut off by a crackle from the commlink, Rika's voice, "Hostile craft less than a click away. You must get back inside!"

"Can we shoot them down?" Varrik demanded.

"No," Came Selim's voice, "Our sensors say their weapons systems are far superior to ours – they have guided explosives and we do not. Probably why they have not bothered to disguise their approach – they think we are easy prey."

Varrik didn't waste any time; the moment Selim had answered, he'd already let go of the plate he had been holding in place. Remagnetising his gloves with a touch on the pressure points, he began to scramble back towards the airlock, feeling the muted clunks and thuds of Halkrath's gloves and boots.

A bright spark appeared in his peripheral vision but he knew better than to turn his head, clambering towards the airlock. He felt the impact as plasma fire struck the ship. The impact flamed against the hull a few feet ahead of him. The flames dazzled him but the impact jolted both his boots and his gloves free. He heard the terrifying clunk and ping as his safety leash snapped. Everything turned upside down as he was thrown off into the void, spinning end over end in a sickening somersault that he could neither halt not control. He groped helplessly for his safety leash but he knew that it was broken and useless.

The stars swung horrifyingly past him again, he tried to stay calm but his mind revolted, almost paralysed with panicas he groped for his toolbelt, searching for something, anything that could help him. He screwed his eyes closed to stop the dizzying all-directional vertigo and the churning feeling of nausea, knowing he must not pass out...

"What did she want with you, the old skull-splitter?"

Spyrro, on the way back to her quarters, halted and turned. Ti'Maat leaned against the wall near the dining hall entrance, clearly on the watch for her. Spyrro scowled. She could barely put into words herself what the GhaRan-S'i-Ka wanted, her mind still a whirl with exhilaration and confusion. Part of her wanted to boast about the things the elder female had said, but she suspected Ti'Maat would make fun of her. Worse still, running underneath that worry was a strong feeling that she was being disloyal, that she was betraying her Father and her Mother by being pleased about the things the GhaRan-S'i-Ka had said.

"She wished to talk to me." She said, as casually as she could manage, "I am her scion, after all. She has the skull of a kainde amedhe – a Queen – and she showed it to me."

Ti'Maat peered at her more closely, "She did?"

"Yes," Spyrro could not keep the proud smile from her face, "She wished to show me her trophy wall."

"Why? What for?"

"She wants me to be her air."

Ti'Maat's brows wrinkled together, "What does that mean?"

"It means I will come after her. That I will one day be as great a warrior as she is."

"You will never make a warrior!"

Spyrro grinned and folded her arms, "She says I will be."

"You lie," The older girl gave a little snort, "How could she say that of such a little hellspawn as you, the offspring of the Abomination?"

"Do not call him that."

"Everyone calls him that! Living with that witch?"

"Do not call her that!"

"What do you care about some ooman concubine?"

Spyrro did not understand the word but her eyes narrowed, full of snapping black fire and her voice shook, "Do not speak so of her."

"But she is only your Father's plaything." Now Ti'Maat grinned, as Spyrro stayed silent, "Rumour is he uses her to warm his bed – is it true? Is she his slut, as they say?"

Spyrro's face had drained of all colour "Shut your jaws."

"Or what, Hellspawn?" The older girl laughed, "Will you shed tears? Will you weep, like the soft meat do – "

Spyrro's temper flamed and she leapt at Ti'Maat, hitting her in the midsection. Ti'Maat gave a winded gasp as she was knocked to the floor, with Spyrro atop her. The older girl lashed at her with hands and elbows but the red rage was pounding in Spyrro's head as she knelt on the older girl's chest and pummelled with her small fists, screaming so hard she couldn't even hear her own words.

Ti'Maat's fist came out of nowhere, knocking her to one side and the second one to her chin. Spyrro's eyes unfocussed for a split second, then she rammed her head forward, butting Ti'Maat hard in the face. The older girl spluttered and fell backwards and Spyrro lunged, claws splayed. Ti'Maat brought up her arm to defend her face from the whirling claws and Spyrro sank her teeth into the other's forearm, tasting salt blood. Ti'Maat brought her knee up hard into Spyrro's stomach, driving out her breath, but she did not unclamp her jaws.

Someone gripped Spyrro by the waist and she was hauled backwards, "Let me go!" She bawled.

Her arms were still windmilling in a cyclone of flailing talons, when she heard a voice right by her ear, "Spyrro."

She turned to see Ito, standing behind her, holding her back with arms locked around her, "Let me go!" She hissed at the older girl, jaws splayed, "Nobody insults my family – nobody!"

She thrashed, kicking and struggling to be free and, abruptly, Ito let go, dropping her to the floor.

"Get ahold of yourself!" She snapped.

Spyrro stared, she had never heard the girl raise her voice before.

"I am the scion of the GhaRan-S'i-Ka!" She howled.

"If they catch you brawling outside of the kehrite, you will be beaten – scion or not."

Ti'Maat rose to her feet, green blood dribbling from the corner of her mouth, "I am going to put her in her place." She snarled, squaring up to Ito.

Ito turned so that she stood between them, facing Ti'Maat, "You will not." She said, in her usual quiet pitch, "Spyrro is my responsibility. Unlike you, I care if Xala beats me bloody. Besides…" She raised her scaley brows, "It looks to me as if she can hold her own place."

Ti'Maat scowled at her for a moment, jaws folded in on themselves, "You are crazy." She said finally, turned and stalked away.

Ito watched her go, then turned to peer at Spyrro, "I think Ti'Maat came off worse than you, this time." She said, "Why were you fighting?"

"It was not my fault." Spyrro said, stiffly, "She said bad things to me."

"Ti'Maat often opens her mouth without thinking." Ito said "You should not let her provoke you."

Spyrro glowered, "She insulted my Father and my… my family."

"What did she say?"

"She called him an abomination and my…she said my… she called the ooman I lived with a witch. She said she was a s'vatlika. I never heard that word before I came here but I know it is a bad word." Spyrro took a deep breath, clenching her fists, "I could not let her say it."

Ito nodded, "I can understand why you do not like to hear such things said of your father. But why do you care what she calls the soft meat pet?

"Do not you use those words, Ito!" Spyrro rounded on her, "And do not dare to call her a pet! She would never be anyone's pet!"

There was a short silence. Ito watched her closely, "What is it to you?"

Spyrro folded her arms and turned away, "She is not like that. Do not speak of what you do not know!"

"Halkrath! Varrik! Secure… yourselves or get to the airlock."

Selim barked into the commlink, arming the Chameleon's guns while Isaac hauled on the controls, bringing the ship around.

"I am at the airlock," Halkrath's voice came through the commlink "But Varrik has been knocked clear of the ship – "

"By the bitch goddess, no." Selim tapped a button to bring up the display which showed a tiny speck in space. He zoomed in and all of them saw the Rough Skull captain, spinning helplessly, drifting away from them – soon he would be lost in the void.

Rika stared "Varrik!"

Isaac stared for a split second, lips moving silently, "We can get him. Selim," He called to his twin, "The grapple gun - give it to Halkrath! I'll deal with the console."

Selim did not ask questions but sprinted to the locker where their father's favourite weapon was kept. He yanked open the door and hefted the huge apparatus, his legs almost buckling under the weight of it.

"Let me!" The burden eased as Rika pulled the grapple gun out of his grip. Though the Rough Skull was shorter than Scar his broad arms and shoulders still lifted it with ease. Together they barrelled down the corridor to the airlock, just in time to see the door slide open, the tall shape of Halkrath stepping inside the inner hatch. Rika thrust the grapple gun at him and the scientist took it, "What is this?"

"It is for boarding ships – the grapples are electromagnets." Selim panted, "We are going to loop around. If you can hit Varrik with the grapple, the electromagnets will fasten to the armour plating on his suit and you can bring him in."

"Or they might rip his suit apart and leave him to die in the vacuum." Halkrath snorted, "Or the impact might break his spine."

"Better than floating in space forever." Selim said "Or being shot down by the enemy ship!"

"We are under attack," Rika hissed, "There is no time to argue."

Selim put his hand on Halkrath's arm "Isaac will get you closer to Varrik." He said, then he turned and bolted for the cockpit.

Lex opened her eyes and turned her head. Scar lay beside her; motionless; eyes shut, breathing steadily. His arms were still thrown loosely around her, but to all appearances, he was dead asleep.

"He probably needs it," She thought, with a small smile, "Looks like he hasn't slept in days."

Her eyes flickered down over his injuries, and she gave a little hiss; the resin-covered acid burns, the ragged gashes left by the Queen's malice. His shoulder was a multicoloured mass of bruises and lacerations. She could not remember what had inflicted these injuries on him – but the sight of it made her ache with vicarious pain and tenderness. Her gaze shifted to her own damage and she winced; something's claws had made a gory tracery of her skin. Her hands were bloodied and battered, nails broken and blackened. Dark rings of bruising wrapped around her limbs where something had gripped her… and she had a flash of horrible memory; being dragged into smothering greenlit shadows.

She shook her head, not wanting to probe that memory too closely. Then she yawned. Moving carefully, so as not to wake Scar, she straightened her aching spine and stretched out her legs. Uncurling her toes, she extended one foot, preparing to disentangle herself from his sleeping embrace so she could go and check on the console. Immediately his arm coiled round her waist, pulling her backwards, "There is… no escape."

"It's alright." She turned in his grasp, so that she lay on her front against his chest, "We already escaped."

"No escape… from me," He purred, opening one eye, "I mean to… keep you here."

One corner of her mouth turned up in a lopsided smile, "Is this for my benefit, or yours?"

"Both."

"Very considerate of you. But I want to go find our children."

"So do I. Do not… worry. I have set our coursssse. The console will… alert us when we are nearing… the Vortex, or if we locate the Chameleon, but you need… to ressst."

"I admit I'm still feeling woozy, but you need rest more than I do."

"You are concerned for me?" He shifted her weight against his chest and grinned, "Can you not… tend my injuries? I would enjoy that."

Her black eyes gleamed, "And here I thought you enjoyed pain."

"Demon!" His jaws spread further, "How I have… missed your wicked tongue."

"So sentimental, for such a pitiless warrior." She felt that she should get up, but the fatigue of the last few days dragged her back down almost as inexorably as the arm locked around her. She gave in, laying her head against his shoulder, "I missed you too, you know."

"You see? You … cannot tear yourself away."

"You may have learned to apologise," She murmured, "But you're still a conceited son-of-a-bitch."

Laughter rumbled through his chest, shaking the side of her face, metamorphosing into a fit of coughing. She squinted up at him through sleepy eyes.

"Perhaps I am." He said, when it had subsided, "But I am your conceited… son-of-a-bitch."

"Hmmm, and don't forget it." Her eyes were closing, "In fact, I want you to say it again."

"That I am… conceited?" He yawned, on the edge of sleep himself.

"No – the human word I like so much to hear."

"Oh, that." There was a grin in his voice and one arm tightened around her again, one hand drowsily trawling through her hair, trailing down her back, "I… love you, demon."

She sighed, lips smiling against his skin, "I am never gonna get tired of hearing you say that."

Isaac gripped the controls and forced the ship forward, keeping one eye on the display that showed Varrik – a tiny dot against the infinite blackness, only locatable because of the tracker chip on his suit. Behind them, the shape of the enemy shuttle arrowing back towards them. He pressed the control to swivel the ship's gun, wishing Selim was here to operate them. At that moment, his brother burst into the cockpit and wrenched his helmet from the locker.

Then Rika arrived and laid hold of Selim, snatching the void helmet from his fingers "Give it to me!"

Isaac's eye flashed to his brother, growling to see him being handled this way but he forced his gaze back to the screen, knowing that if he let himself be distracted, they were all dead.

"Give it back!" Selim roared in the older male's face.

"You cannot go outside." The Rough Skull snarled, "You are inexperienced. S'Kia would not have let you go!"

They faced each other, teeth bared, jaws gaping. Isaac's eyes were wild as he tried to keep both Varrik and the enemy ship in view, "Sel, let him go help Varrik! I need a gunner!"

At that moment, another impact rocked the ship and Selim leapt to the co-pilot seat, slipping his fingers into the gun controls, bringing the plasma cannons wheeling round to face their attacker and unleashing a burst of plasma fire that hit the enemy's rear thruster as they zoomed past. "I can keep them off us." He threw over his shoulder at Rika, "Go and get him!"

Well, that's the end of another term. Now a week of holiday - glory be!

LoveDovy7: There's got to be love and tenderness sometimes, right? All children do need a life beyond their parents - they need to make some sort of independent existence no matter how much their parents love them. I'm weirdly flattered that you don't know where this is going - nobody wants to be predictable.

Tenjp: Surely you knew the reconciliation was coming? They've certainly been apart long enough. The boys have to stick it out with their new allies while Spyrro's got a little crisis of identity going on. Spyrro the Elder is everything she has always wanted to be.

Miko. Uchi. Queen: Eye of the hurricane is definitely nearer the mark - but yes, joyful reconciliation for a short time.

Ko Ry Kougami - Ou te fiafia lava i taimi uma e fiafia ai se tasi i le faaiuga o le vaiaso! Ou te faaviivii. Fa'amoemoe e fa'aliliu lelei lenei mea a'o ou fa'aogaina le Google Translate!