Selim and Isaac followed their father's former squad mate in the direction Varrik had taken, using their talons to grasp the slippery, black bark of the mangrove trees until they reached an island, rising out of the stagnant water. As soon as Selim set his foot down, it sank into a layer of greyish slime. Vine and creepers hung down the dank trunks of the trees and beards of greying moss hung from the branches. Huge growths of dimly glowing fungus sprouted wherever they could find a crevice, reaching like pale, bloated fingers.

Here was a place that light penetrated only dimly, and the natural light was stained red, smothered by falling ash flakes. Only their preternatural eyesight allowed them to keep moving amongst the dark pillars of the trunks. When a tall figure appeared, walking towards them, Selim recognised Varrik in the dim dusk and noticed with alarm that his camouflage was also deactivated. Then a second shock hit him; his mask's thermal imaging had not been able to detect Varrik either, until they had been up close, "Ize, is your heat vision failing too?"

His twin nodded, lifting a hand to switch between the different vision settings, "It's no good. All these particulates are interfering with it, I guess."

"Varrik?" Rika demanded, "Did your stealth unit fail also?"

"Yesss," The Rough Skull captain nodded, "Curse the fate that brought us to this gods-forsaken place."

"Then, we must find somewhere we can stay hidden!"

"Never mind that," Varrik dismissed lurking enemies with a wave of his hand, palm flat at waist level, "I have scouted the area thoroughly. There is no sign of movement."

He beckoned them, turning to walk back through the trees and they followed in uneasy silence. The ground became less wet, roots and vines criss-crossed the place like a network of veins and arteries, ready to crunch under an incautious footstep. He led them between two huge trees that stood sentinel at the entrance to a natural clearing, a place where the tortured shapes of roots and branches created a natural barrier, encircling a wide space. Selim noticed that the bark of these giant watchtowers had been carved with what looked like yautja symbols, though he could not read them.

Then he drew in his breath. In the giant, enclosed clearing, plants and earth had been blackened in a wide ring, and in the middle of that ring…

Selim stared, "By the nameless goddess… what is it?"

At the centre of the clearing, stood a charred stake. Perhaps it had grown there, a hewn off tree trunk, or perhaps it had been planted there on purpose. It stood, pointing skyward like a blasphemous, cauterised finger. Still attached to it there was… a thing. It was blackened and contorted; its limbs twisted around the stake as though they were part of it. Jaws gaped from something that might have been a face, now crumbling to sooty fragments in the heavy, dead air.

Rika clicked to himself, "Burned alive."
His voice was dispassionate, without emphasis.

Isaac's head swivelled, "How do you… know?"

"Because it is unnecessary to tie up a corpse."

Varrik moved closer to the shape and scraped a claw along part of it. A thick layer of soot came away on his talon, revealing the metal underneath, "Rough Skull, by the armour."

"He is… was yautja?" Selim felt his gorge rise, fighting down the urge to vomit.
"Death by fire. Not a… clean end." Varrik turned towards them. He squatted on his haunches, bending to pick up another object that Selim at first thought was a blackened branch. Varrik held it up for Rika. The captain went forward and took it. Varrik watched him, expectantly.

"This is yautja also." Rika said.

"So, he was not the only one."

The younger Rough Skull nodded towards the burned offering at the stake, "There are several, here." A sweep of his hand took in the clearing, "Charred bones and flesh. All yautja."

"What happened?" Isaac said, in English, "Was this some kind of… execution?"

"I do not know."Selim shook his head.

Rika was still holding the bone, turned it this way and that, brushing away the black crust. Slowly, he ran his finger along one edge. Then his head came up and the two Rough Skulls looked at each other, their expressions unseeable beneath the blank eyeholes of their masks.

"What is it?" Selim demanded, then stopped, his voice sounded far too loud in his own ears, "Tell me."

Rika turned to him, holding out the charred bone to him, "What do you see?"

Selim ran the pad of his finger down it as Rika had done. For some reason, he expected it to be hot, but it was cold and greasy, marked along its length with rough, gritty notches. Isaac, standing at his shoulder, spoke in a hushed voice, "What the hell is it?"

"I think …an arm bone."

For some reason he could not name, a sickening tremor ran up Selim's spine and he stared, his mind trying to map out the shape of notches, the spacing, 'Goddess, give me strength.'

He shook his head, "What happened here?"

"Sickness," Isaac was looking around them, his voice breathless, "This is fucking bad, Sel."

Through the fog of horror, he heard Varrik say, "Look around you."

Selim's eyes followed the sweep of the Rough Skull captain's arm towards the barrier of strangling roots that surrounded them. There were more shapes. In the gloom, Selim's light-sensitive eyes picked out bodies hanging from the wall, 'Not bodies.' He corrected his numb brain, 'Body parts…"

Torsos missing arms and legs – some of them headless – the hacked off stumps a blackened mess. A few insects crawled on the cold flesh, swelling fat with stolen blood. His stomach plunged at the sight of the mottled skin underneath the smears of gore and the shape of the heads that still remained, the fourfold jaws lolling open. Beside him, Isaac stood, as if frozen solid. Selim took a long, deep breath, pushing down nausea, straightening his back as he knew Mei'Savir would do in the face of this horror, 'I have faced the hard meat. I have killed a Queen. I am the son of the Abomination. Nothing can make me flinch."

He put a steadying hand on his twin's shoulder and felt his brother breathe out.

Varrik turned to Rika, "This looks like the D'AKv'var."

"I thought they were just an evil rumour." His fellow captain replied, quietly.

"The D'Ak-a-what?" Isaac hissed.

None of them wanted to raise their voices in the suffocating atmosphere.

Selim's mouth became dry, his mind filled with flashes; a figure writhing in the flames, the flash of blades, his mind kept going back to the notches on the bones…

'Mei'Savir, where are you when I need you?'

Scar stood at the console. He did not look at Sek'Met, who sat silently in the co-pilot seat, but Lex noticed he had positioned himself very deliberately between them, 'If she makes a lunge for me, she would have to get past him. He doesn't trust her.'

She looked over at the female, trying to gauge what she might be thinking. Sek'Met was still too young to be able to completely hide her feelings. Her eyes barely left Scar but, when she glanced at Lex, her expression was far from friendly.

"Our sons have landed on U'amea," Scar said, "An enemy ship is in pursuit. We cannot tell if it is the D'AKv'var, but we suspect it."

"Have you tried to contact them?" The lieutenant squinted at the display.

"We lost contact when they entered the planet's atmosphere," Lex told her, seeing the female's jaws curl a little at being addressed by a human. Mentally she shrugged and went on, "There seems to be something interfering with their comms. Perhaps their transmitter has malfunctioned – and we know that they had taken damage."
"How much damage?"

"It is impossible to be sure," Scar shook his head, "They went down to the planet's surface to carry out repairs. Isaac is a gifted engineer, but – "

"Isaac?" Sek'Met narrowed her eyes at the unfamiliar name.

"My son." He said, a little edge to his voice, "But even taking that into account, who knows what may have happened. I only hope they have concealed themselves in the jungle, as I told them to do."

"Can they not defend themselves?" Sek'Met turned towards Lex, "What kind of sons are you raising? Are they soft and weak and clinging, like their mother?"

Scar bristled immediately at the insult to both Lex and his offspring, swinging to face Sek'Met with a clicking growl, plaits rising off the back of his neck.

Lex spoke before he could answer, "Our sons are brave and clever, but they are only twelve years old. Even by yautja standards, they are children." She said, calmly, "Of course we must protect them against assailants who outmatch them in both numbers and experience."

Sek'Met glared at her – as if it were Lex's fault that she had inadvertently insulted Scar – but clearly could think of no response that would avoid further enraging him. He, meanwhile, glowered at her from beneath lowered brows, hands balled up into fists. He turned abruptly back to the console, trying again to trace the Chameleon's co-ordinates. The youngblood watched him cautiously.

"Is Jah'Di'Tou awake?" She asked, after a moment.

The question was general, though she did not take her eyes off Scar.

"No." Lex answered her, "She remains sedated in the medipod. She needs more complex treatment than we can provide."

The female's expression did not change, but her claws tightened on the arms of the co-pilot's chair.

"I will go and see her." Sek'Met made as if to get up.

Scar did not look round, "You stay here!"

"You can see her status," Lex pressed the control to bring up the medipod's display, "Her condition is stable."

Sek'Met stared for a moment, taking in the information on the screen. Then her eyes narrowed "Is this how you treat your allies, U'daraje?" She snapped, "Keeping me prisoner on my own ship? Preventing me from seeing my sister?"

"Your allegiance is unproven," He said, "I do not yet trust you to wander the ship with unrestricted access to weapons."

"I will be of little use to you on U'amea without weapons," She snarled, "Or were you intending I should fight unarmed?"

Lex smiled at the remark. She could see the female was putting Scar on edge but since having some real sleep she was feeling much stronger and she could think clearly at last, 'Scar's worried about Sek'Met hurting me. He thinks he can bully her into submission, but that's not going to work. As long as she sees me as weak and needing his protection, she'll just be waiting for the chance to kill me. I have to do this in a way she understands.'

She stood up, went to the locker at the side of the cockpit and took out a set of dah'kte. Both yautja watched in silence as she threw them at Sek'Met's feet, "Take them."

The lieutenant's vivid eyes flickered up to her, "What is this?"

"You want us to trust you?" Lex stared her down, straight backed, "Then, put on the blades. You can either fight me, now, or show us that you can be trusted."

"Lexsssss!" Scar's voice was a furious hiss, but she ignored him.

"We make planetfall in less than a unit." She said, "When we face the D'AKv'var, I do not want an ally I cannot trust. I give you the chance to fight me, now. One on one."

She spread her arms and took a few steps backwards. Sek'Met rose to her feet. Lex sensed Scar make a movement but she lifted one hand to check him as the female knelt and picked up the dah'kte. When the lieutenant had strapped them onto her wrists, Lex stepped back, close to Sek'Met, looking up into her face.

"What will it be?" Lex's fingers rested just a touch away from the palm catch of her own blades. "We are all Rough Skulls here. Either we trust one other, or one of us dies now."

She remembered the first time she had met Scar, handing the gun to him in the freezing blackness of the Pyramid, back in Antarctica. Then, she had been almost crying with fear, 'But I am not crying now.'

Sek'Met watched her for long moments, tawny eyes and black slitted pupils measuring the depths of her gaze. Lex felt light, as burning energy were buoying up her arms. Memories came back to her; of standing on the deck of a spaceship; in a darkened corridor; in a snowy forest; swinging the dah'kte; feeling bone and sinew parting under the blades; her hands slick with the blood that gushed from a sudden, shocking wound, covering her like a fountain. Now, she felt that savage side of her uncurl again, stretching and testing its claws.

Maybe Sek'Met saw something of this in her face, or heard it in her voice. Or maybe she was all too aware of Scar, silently watching the exchange. He might be motionless right now, but Lex knew he would be unlikely to honour any pledge of allegiance if Sek'Met attacked her. Whatever the reason, the lieutenant's hands stayed at her sides and she dipped her head once, nodding her assent, "It is… as you say. We are all Rough Skulls here."

Lex nodded and stepped aside, "Your sister is in the medipod chamber.".

Only when the door had slid shut behind Sek'Met did she exhale. Scar was still watching her from the console, still poised, ready to spring. Rising to his feet, he crossed the distance between them and took hold of her shoulders, his English speech swift and lucid, "I did not snatch you from the jaws of death so that you could court your own destruction. Swear you will not do so again. Say it to me!"

"I will not say it." She shook her head, "I am Sain'Ja. Sain'Ja do not know fear."

"Sain'Ja or not, she could still attack you. Yautja do not accept defeat easily."

"Then, I will kill her." She set her jaw, "It is as it was on the Cutter and on the Shadow; when we are with your people, I must be yautja. You know this. Just like you are partly human when you are with me. Just like part of you will always be human, now."

She expected him to protest – or to deny it – but he didn't, "This has nothing to do with that."

"It has everything to do with it." She said, implacable, "We each stand with a foot in both worlds. Only if we stand together, will we get our children back."

"You are…" He struggled for the right words in her language, "The most intractable… the most stubborn female – no – the most stubborn sentient being… I have ever known."

"More intractable than your Mother?"

He stared at her and then his jaws spread slowly, unwillingly, "Oh, you are worse than she – much worse."

She gave him a crooked smile, "S'Kia, I will do whatever is necessary. I know you are the same. You cannot keep protecting me. Just say we will get them back."

"Yes, infernal female. My black-eyed demon, yes. How can I ever fail you?"

"You can't." Her mind leapt forward, across miles of space to U'amea. To the twins, facing unnameable terrors, "Failure is a luxury we can't afford."

Spyrro burst into her quarters without bothering to activate the lights, throwing herself down on the bed in the blueish darkness. It was late now, past the ship's active hours, and she wanted refuge. She needed to be alone for a while and think about what the GhaRan-S'i-Ka had said.

'She wants to kill Mei'Varsi.' She thought, her panicking thoughts tripping over each other as they whirled around her brain, 'She wants to kill her! Then, she will put her skull up on that horrible wall of hers. And my Father – '

She gulped as she realised what must come next, 'Mei'Savir would never allow her to do that… so she would have to kill him too, if she can. And she said my brothers are … abom-inable… so she probably wants to kill them, also! What can I do – what can I do?!'

She lay there, face down, breathing hard in her distress, digging her claws into the bed as the waves of horror kept on coming, 'She wants my family dead, slaughtered! I would never see them again…'

Hot tears squeezed out from under her eyelids. Spyrro prided herself on never crying – tears were a sign of weakness and yautja did not give in to such things – but for once she found she could not help it. She curled up like the child she was, hands pressed over her eyes to hide her weakness, even in the dark, helpless in the face of terror and loss which she could not think how to prevent.

"Spyrro?"

Immediately Spyrro wiped her hand across her eyes, smearing away the treacherous tears. Then she looked up, pushing herself onto her elbows. There was a shape in the other bed. It was Ito, sitting with her back resting against the wall. She had been so unmoving and so silent and Spyrro in such turmoil, she had not noticed the older girl when she came in.

"You are distressed." Ito said.

"No. No! I am just…" Spyrro hauled herself upright, blurting out the first lie she could think of, "The GhaRan-S'i-Ka had some hard words with me."

"Why so?"

Spyrro dragged her hand across her face, "She told me not to mention my Father."

"No more than that?" Ito leaned forward, peering at her in the blue darkness.

Spyrro shook her head, hoping the Rough Skull would be satisfied and go to sleep but Ito continued to watch her and Spyrro shifted under her scrutiny.

"What?" She snapped.

"Did she say nothing of – " Ito paused for a moment, "Did she ask you about… your mother?"

Spyrro had been on the Vortex for a while, but she had not been raised on a yautja ship. She could not yet conceal her feelings behind a blank mask. Her eyes widened before she could stop them. Then she remembered herself.

"My mother?" She shook her head, "I know nothing about her. My father raised me."

"In the kehrite," Ito said, "You bled."

"Only a little!" Spyrro was relieved at the change of subject, feeling she was on firmer ground, "And I fought off Ti'Maat – if you had not interfered, I would have made her bleed, too."

Ito shook her head, waving her into silence, "Your blood is not green, like mine. It is not like any blood I have seen. It is red, Spyrro."

"So what?"

"And your eyes," Ito continued slowly.

Spyrro scowled at her, "What about them?"

"Your eyes are not yautja eyes." Ito went on, "Yautja eyes are filled with light, but yours… yours are dark. I have only seen one creature with eyes like yours."

A terrible, cold feeling filled Spyrro's belly. The horrible realisation was dawning on her; she understood why she wasn't allowed to speak about Mei'Varsi. She understood what she should have remembered; what she should never, ever have forgotten in a place where human skulls hung on the wall as trophies, 'Mei'Varsi and Mei'Savir told me – they both told me! Why did I not listen?'

Spyrro swallowed, the movement of her throat loud in the silent room but she could not speak. It was as if her mouth was sealed up, the mandibles stuck together

"I saw her when they brought her onboard," Ito blinked, the slow, heavy movement of her eyelids hypnotic, "The GhaRan-S'i-Ka thinks U'daraje sired you on a Rough Skull female. Everyone heard the witch accuse him of betraying her with another – but he never strayed from her, did he."

It was not a question.

"Ito… what are you saying?" Spyrro's voice cracked, for she knew already. She knew.

"You have her eyes; you speak her language; you defend her against slander," Ito built the sentence carefully, as if every word were an incendiary charge that might explode, "Because the witch is your mother."

Christmas is nearly upon us, luckily I finally have all my presents wrapped. Just need to put them under the tree now. Thought people might enjoy a festive update. Happy Christmas to all my readers. Hope you're having a lovely holiday, whatever you're up to!

Sorry this has been a bit of a slow buildup but the violence is coming really soon, I promise.

LovyDovy7: Spyrro the Elder was never going to be able to let things lie, she's going to try and kill Scar, unless someone does her in first, but is he capable of killing his own mother? We'll soon see. I feel sorry for Spyrro too, as she's only little - but she's learning a lot of important lessons too.

Tenjp: Yes, Sek'Met is a dodgy ally and Scar's mother is a very bitter person. She and Scar are very alike in temperament, but he's got Lex to curb his temper and balance him out. His Mother doesn't have anyone she sees as her equal, that's why she wants Spyrro so badly. Spyrro meanwhile is learning to appreciate her real mother.

Miko Uchi Queen: Lol, I don't think Scar really understands the point of stripping, partly cos he's got zero hangups about taking his clothes off whenever he feels like it and just sees the whole concept as a weird human thing. But no, I don't think Lex and Spyrro the Elder will ever be friends either - but the idea of Lex being her daughter in law is quite funny.

lexia the beautiful wolf: Not long to go now, they're so close!