Another update from Natasha:

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Tyr collapsed silently as the Drago-Kazov cheered. Blood spilled in the sand around him, and dozens of bruises and cuts decorated his massive body.Many of his ribs were cracked, and his wrist was broken.

The Drago-Kazov Commander stood over him and smiled. "Pitiful." He lifted his weapon. "Let it be known that I, Dechovi Arisan out of Frita by Aranglor defeated Tyr Anasazi today!" He aimed at the still Tyr Anasazi and fired. Flashes of blue light could be seen from miles away. For a moment Dechovi stared at Tyr's smoking body, then put away his weapon.

The door to the hut opened, and Serena stepped outside. She was beaming. "You won. Congratulations. I always knew Tyr's genes were underrated."

The Drago-Kazov leader gave her a look of disgust. He silently signaled with a flick of his wrist, and the Drago-Kazov turned away and left.

For ten minutes Serena watched them go as a breeze lifted through her long beaded red hair, for a moment looking very uncertain. Then she turned to go back into her house to throw out the Kludge garbage.

Tyr's hand suddenly clamped down on her ankle, and with a shriek she fell into the sand. With a deep, low growl in his throat Tyr lifted his bloodied head.

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Harper awoke to the sound of snapping fingers. As Harper opened his blue eyes, Tyr's face came swimming into view. Tyr was starring down at him in obvious pain. "What happened?" Harper croaked.

"You fell," Tyr said tonelessly. "The Drago-Kazov overran us. They could have killed me, but they didn't."

Harper sat up slightly, very puzzled. His entire body was sore but it seemed the Drago-Kazov missed from turning him into fried chicken. "Why not?" he asked.

Tyr glanced back at Serena, who was watching him anxiously. She was also limping. "To prove that my pride is inferior," Tyr said flatly. "Among other things."

"I don't get it," Harper said. "They wanted you as smashed Neitzschean paste-"

"Believe me, child, they have no intention of letting us leave this world alive," Tyr said. "But they still have something we need and they know it. They wanted to humiliate us first. The first round is there's." He glanced back at Harper. "Clean yourself up, little man. We have much to do." And with that, he left.

Harper watched him go, feeling worse then when the Magog larva was chewing through his stomach. Did he only imagine the disappointment in Tyr's eyes? Yesterday that would have meant nothing to him, but today...he had let Tyr down. He had let them Rommie down and she was dead. Just like how his parents had died... because of him.

"No, that isn't true," Harper said to the only person who would listen-his shadow. "That wasn't my fault! I couldn't have changed what I was back then and I can't today!" He paused. "Can I?" There was only one way to find out.

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Tyr was bandaging his wounds by the fire when he heard the door open. He didn't turn his head. "Your ploy didn't work," he snarled.

A small smile touched Serena's lips. "Are you going to kill me?"

"No," Tyr said. For a long moment he said nothing. "For a Neitzschean, the only way to prove his or her genetic worth is in battle. Surviving against all odds, with his or her bloodied feet in the sand and a planet full of corpses at their feet!" He took a deep breath and his voice calmed. "But not you. You thrive in a web of lies and betrayal. You kill when it suits you and slink off into the shadows when it does not. And you tried to kill me." He paused. "You might have lost your status years ago because of me but you have already proven to the Drago-Kazov and myself that your genetics are worthless." He stood and faced her. In the firelight she looked strikingly beautiful, but if beauty was all there was to a Neitzschean female.... "The woman I knew, long years ago, is dead."

"I'm shaking," Serena said tonelessly.

Tyr said nothing for a moment, then stood. "We'll be gone within the hour." He made for the door.

"That might not be as easy as you think, Tyr," Serena said. "I just thought that you should know that your little monkey ran off. And he took your share of the supplies with him."

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Harper climbed up the hill. He had followed them right back to the city. The night had scorched back into day, and boy was he hot. He took out a pair of binoculars, binoculars that he, Seamus Harper, had of course improved on. He squinted out of the lenses and saw the Drago-Kazov and going into a very large building that towered over the rest. Must be fleet command. From the Binoculars point of view he might as well be walking right behind them. He tossed them into the bag and stood. Maybe now he could get some freaking answers-

He was oblivious to the last moment what was happening, until someone had thrown a leather cord around his neck and yanked him backwards into the sand.

TBC.