Halkrath kept himself utterly still, all attention concentrated on the blade pressed against his throat, "I took blood and tissue samples, only." He said, his mouth dry, "And only with their consent. I would not mistreat any spawn of yours, S'Kia."

The renegade did not reply but his dah'kte stayed at the scientist's jugular.

"Where are our sons now?" Lex said.

"They went into the jungle with Varrik and Rika." Halkrath said.

"Varrik was with you?"

S'Kia snarled softly, and Halkrath remembered in a rush that Varrik had been part of the force which had captured him, the ooman female and their hybrid spawn. He might dislike Varrik, but the scientist knew that his own life depended on convincing S'Kia and Lex that both he and the youngblood captain were on their side.

"Varrik is the one who alerted us to their presence," He explained hastily, "Without him, we would not have been able to get them away from Nar'Jat's captivity. Varrik and Rika thought the Chameleon would be a target. They wanted to take them somewhere they would be safe until you arrived…"

The blade at his throat still did not move. Insects hissed and ash drifted down like grey snow as the moments oozed by and S'Kia did not speak. Halkrath drew in a deep breath, wondering if he was about to die, 'They do not call him U'darahje for nothing. Remember how he skinned the Bad Blood on the Void Cutter…"

Then, the Abomination turned his head slightly towards the ooman female, while keeping Halkrath in his field of vision. She dipped her head, very slightly. The blade was withdrawn and S'Kia smacked Halkrath in the shoulder, "It is good to see you, scientissssst." He said, the grin audible in his voice, "I never thought I would be happy to see Rough Skulls again."

He stepped behind Halkrath to unlock the metal bonds around his wrists. Before the scientist could even turn, the ooman female approached him.

"I am grateful that you helped them." She said, "But, where are they now? When we received their distress call, we had no idea the three of you were with them."

"Your sons were making for the ridge, away to the North." Halkrath indicated the direction. S'Kia knelt by the body of Tmogu'i – the one D'Kv'Var who had not been disembowelled or decapitated.

"He is not dead?" Asked Halkrath.

"No." S'Kia snorted, seizing the huge male's arms and cuffing them behind his back, "But, he will soon wish he was."

"I am going to look around the ship," Lex said, behind them, "To see if there is anything left we can use."

S'Kia straightened up, watching her go, "This … research," He said slowly, when the ooman was out of earshot, "Why were you studying Selim and Isaac?"

Halkrath stiffened. He wasn't happy about going back to this subject after S'Kia had only just been persuaded to let him live, "Oomans are immune to the sickness," He said, choosing his words with care, "Your sons are ooman hybrids…."

Halkrath realised he was holding in his breath: the ooman female had said "our sons", hadn't she? Nevertheless...

"So, what?" S'Kia was looking at him.

"So… I reasoned they might also have immunity."

"And, do they?"

"I am unable to say for sure, but I think it likely." Halkrath said, "Obviously I have not gone as far as to expose them to the contagion – that would be a great risk – but all tests so far suggest they possess a resistance. I wondered if it could be… transferred somehow. I think I may have synthesised a vaccine, but I cannot be certain of its efficacy without further testing."

"How would you know if the boys had the contagion?" S'Kia said, "What are the symptoms?"

Halkrath frowned, "Fluctuating body temperature, fatigue, spells of dizziness, coughing fits. In the later stages, severe inflammation of the throat, the cough worsens to produce blood as the lungs and throat are damaged…" He tailed off, "But I am convinced Selim and Isaac do not have it. Their blood showed no trace of it."

"Good," S'Kia's head turned again the way Lex had gone, "And you are sure humans are immune?"

'He is worried about the ooman Sain'Ja,' Halkrath thought, 'It is true, then. She holds sway over him even now.'

Aloud he said, "As sure as I can be. None of my test subjects ever suffered symptoms."

S'Kia titled his head to one side, as if he were about to ask something in response, but at that that moment, another figure emerged from the grey shadows of the jungle, stepping into the clearing with no noise. Halkrath stared at the tall, slender shape, 'She is female. Yautja female.'

He shook his head. He so seldom encountered females of his own kind, seeing one here unexpectedly was… strange. Unsettling.

And, by the look of her armour and weapons and her stance, this one was a high-status female; obviously warrior caste, though still young. She ignored Halkrath completely, addressing S'Kia, "I have scouted the area, U'darahje, but I saw no more enemies."

"Stay alert." S'Kia told her, "The D'Kv'Var are an undisciplined rabble, but deadly to those they catch unawares."

She nodded, "I also saw tracks, in that direction."

To Halkrath's relief, she pointed the way he had indicated. Then, she noticed him, "Who is this?"

"Halkrath; our clan brother." S'Kia said, "This is Sek'Met; lieutenant of the Vortex."

Sek'Met spoke no word of greeting to the scientist, but continued to watch S'Kia and Halkrath wondered what an emissary of the female ship would be doing with a renegade like the Abomination and his alien consort.

"I need to retrieve some things from the Chameleon," S'Kia told the lieutenant and nudged the supine body of Tmogu'i with his foot, "Watch this… creature. See that he does not escape."

"He shall not." She said.

"Arm yourself." S'Kia nodded to Halkrath and stalked off after the ooman.

Lex stepped on board the Chameleon and could not help the little plunge in her stomach. Somehow, it was worse being here when she knew her children were in danger, somewhere out there. She felt their absence in every room. Shaking her head, she strode to the cockpit, leaned over the console and tapped the controls to bring up the coms. An icon lit up to indicate messages; the first one had already been viewed, but there was another, unopened. She checked the timecode, 'This must have come through just as the boys were making planetfall, but I guess they were all too busy to notice. Either that or it's a message from Nar'Jat and Halkrath hid it from them – but why wouldn't he view it himself?'

She pressed the button to see the open message and an unfamiliar yautja male appeared on the screen. She had been expecting to see Nar'Jat's face but this one looked bigger than Nar'Jat and his skin was pale, his dark spined brows drawn together "Varrik… I know that it is you, aboard the Abomination's ship. I know you feel some sort of… loyalty to him but … you will lose your rank and gain nothing but a swift execution… cease this insanity and turn back before Nar'Jat proclaims a death sentence on you…"

Lex's eyes narrowed, "At least this proves Halkrath was telling the truth about helping the boys escape. They were taking a big risk going against Nar'Jat.'

She hit play on the unopened message and the same male appeared. This time, there were dark shadows under his eye-sockets and when he leaned close to the screen, she could see his eyes were green and bloodshot.

"Varrik!" He hissed, "You must return. The contagion is spreading like a forest fire. Nar'Jat has sealed himself in his quarters and some say he is ill. The science team are striving to find a cure, but they are dying just as quickly as the rest of us. All is chaos and no-one knows who will fall to it next…" He broke off in a fit of coughing and Lex heard the wheezing rattle in his chest.

Behind her, Scar entered the cockpit and stopped dead, "What is this?"

She lifted a hand as the male on the screen spoke again, "Even I…" He halted and shook his head, "Our medical supplies are depleted. They could not save Ar'Ctir. He made a miserable end, Varrik. The shipment of the female's antivirus never reached us. Rumour has it that it was hijacked by pirates, just off Belua – "

"That is near to this system and within the D'Kv'Var's stalking grounds." Scar observed, "I would guess it is they who stole Nar'Jat's cure – "

He stopped as the speaker on screen broke down in another spasm of retching gasps. Finally, he managed to stop for long enough to finish his message, "Varrik, we need you. If you return, I am certain you will be forgiven. If you do not, there may be nothing left to return to."

He broke off once more, racked again by choking coughs and the message cut out. She and Scar looked at each other, "It came from the Void Cutter," She said, "Sounds like the cure Nar'Jat traded us in for never arrived."

"The soul eater has caught up with them more swiftly than they expected." He said, his switch to his own language emphasising his grim satisfaction, "Did you find what you were seeking?"

"Enough to convince me that Varrik, Halkrath and Rika can be trusted."

"That is good. I would not doubt Rika's loyalty, but the other two…"

"Judging by this, Halkrath is probably telling the truth about himself and Varrik helping the boys escape."

He nodded, "Come here. I have something for you."

She stepped forward and he placed in her hands a small metal case, "The boys have taken most of my weapons, but I hid this where it would not be found."

"What is it?"

He lifted the lid to show her the rows of darts and vials; little, silver minnows.

"Thei-De Nanth'e."

Her eyes flicked up to his face, "The… Living Death?" She translated.

He nodded, "The venom of the… Avissa species. The smallest amount in a wound causes instant… paralysisss. The … antidote is here, also."

"And how did you get this deadly poison?"

He shrugged, "Yourrrr sons and I… harvested it."

"Good thing I already forgave you, or you'd be in big trouble right now." She gave him a tight smile, "But surely there's enough for both of us?"

"No. You must… take it all. You are smaller and… weaker than I." He raised a hand to forestall her immediate protest, "Do not be difficult. You must … protect yourself, whatever happens to me."

"I could put it on my dah'kte."

He shook his head, "Not so… near your skin. The merest scratch can be… deadly. Dip your knives in it… keep them sheathed until you… use them."

She looked at him a moment and then shut the case. Holding it to her chest, she stretched up on tiptoe and put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him down so she could kiss the side of his face, though it was still covered by the mask, "Thank you. It's sweet of you."

"It is not 'sweet'." He said, "I want our enemies to believe in your power, my wicked sorceress. If they think you can strike them down with magic, all the better. Fear is a weapon, and I wish to use it."

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards, "Why is it every nice thing you do has a nasty motive?"

He laughed, but again the laughter dissolved into a fit of coughing. A thorn of unease lodged in her throat; the rattle in his chest sounded just like the speaker in the message. The one who had been begging Varrik to come back and help, 'He made a miserable end…'

When he straightened up, her own chest was tight, "Scar, are you alright?"

"Why would I… not be?"

"You're not, I can tell. I saw that message, same as you did." She peered up at him, "Do you think you somehow you got infected, like those yautja on the Cutter?"

He turned away from her "Of course not. I am… fine."

"Oh no, you don't fool me." She caught him by the shoulder and pulled him back around, "I can hear it in your chest and your body temperature's not normal."

"And so?"

"Take off your mask, then. Show me your eyes."

"No."

"Now who's being difficult?"

"They say humans cannot… catch it, but I… would not risk infecting you."

"So, you admit it: you are sick!"

"Perhaps, but I would say this… to you, only."

"How long have you felt like this?"

He put his hands on her shoulders, "Only the past few units… ever since we awakened. But we must … keep this between us. Until we… leave here."

"But Halkrath said he was searching for a cure. We could ask him to – "

"NO!"

"I thought we agreed we could trust them?"

"None of them must know!" He hissed, "We can trust them while we are strong, while they fear us – but if they suspect weakness…"

He tailed off and Lex fell silent. He didn't have to say it, she knew: yautja followed strength. Perhaps they could trust Halkrath, perhaps… Rika? Probably. Varrik? Maybe… but what about Sek'Met? Whilst they knew Scar was the strongest – the best fighter – they would follow him. If he appeared weak or vulnerable, all bets were off. Much as she hated it, she agreed with him; getting to the boys was more important.

"They'll find out in the end." She said quietly, staring up at the blankness of the mask "If you get really sick, we won't be able to hide it."

"Then we must hope that I do not," He turned to go, "Now, let us wake our prisoner."

Selim held on to his brother's arm and waited, lungs burning now. The air began to throb inside his chest, but knew he must not breathe out. Even filtered through his mask, bubbles would billow upwards, bursting on the surface, giving them away. Isaac's claws bit into his flesh but he did not react, knowing that his own talons must be doing the same. The red point of light flitted back and forth above them, its beam refracted by the lapping ripples. Then, it darted away, flitting out into endless night.

Still, Selim stayed under, not daring to come up. Spots began to flash across his vision, red splotches echoing the dancing point of light. A ringing began in his ears, low at first, but rising to a deafening pitch. He wondered abstractedly if it was coming from the surface or if it was in his own head. Then something was dragging at his arm, hauling him upwards. For a moment he thought he was captured but then he realised the hand gripping him was too small to belong to one of their pursuers. Selim surfaced, gulping air through the mask's filter, maddened by the need to pull air into his lungs, not caring in that instant if he was heard, so long as he could breathe.

As the ringing in his head subsided and the red blots died away, his vision returned to darkness. Isaac's masked face appeared in front of him, shiny with water droplets. Selim suppressed his own ragged breathing, forcing himself to be still.

Something wrapped around his arm again, dragging him sideways, out of Isaac's grip, cracking his head against a low-hanging root. Selim extended his blades, striking hard with his free hand at the thing that held him; not knowing or caring if it was frondwyrm or yautja, as long as he could make it let go. The grip on his arm slackened and at once he stabbed, driving his blades into something fleshy and looked up to see a yautja mask, looming above him with a clicking growl. Something burst out of the water and Selim took a split-second to realise that Isaac had leapt on their giant attacker as it bent over them. His twin hit the male in the chest, stabbing at the notch between mask and breastplate, skewering the hollow of the D'Kv'Var's neck. It gurgled as its throat began to fill with blood, but it seized Isaac by a handful of braids, dragging his head upwards and exposing his jugular. Serrated knives flashed as the D'Kv'Var lifted the blades on its uninjured hand. Almost dreamily, Selim leapt, launching himself at the tower of muscle and armour which dared lay hands on his brother, blades shearing through flesh and bone and tendon. Isaac dropped into the water in a hail of severed braids and severed fingers and Selim struck again, plunging the dah'kte into the point between the bone and the muscle of his assailant's inner thigh. A geyser of blood shot up, spraying his face and body. Wrenching the blades free, he fell backwards but Isaac lunged again, stabbing both sets of dah'kte into the unprotected part of the D'Kv'Var's abdomen. There was another explosion of blood, the water around them frothing and glowing green. Both brothers were in the grip of a frenzy now, stabbing and stabbing at any gap in the armour, turning flesh into green pulp. The D'Kv'Var struggled to rise, one maimed hand trying to stop the blood gushing from its punctured throat, forced inexorably down under the onslaught. Selim's arm gradually slowed, his movements slackening as he saw that Isaac had stopped and fallen back against the cage of tree roots.

"Sel!" He panted in a hoarse whisper, "Sel, he's dead."

Selim looked down. Slipping slowly into the water was a huge mess of ragged flesh, only armour holding it together. He shook his head, "Thank the goddess!"

He shut his eyes, breathing deeply, but the sound of voices in the distance roused him immediately. Without another word, the two of them put their shoulders to the carcass. Together, they shoved it further into the tangle of roots, the weight of the armour helping to drag it down until it was no longer visible. Selim felt a fizzing lightness inside his head that he could not explain as the body sank down, trailing a string of bubbles. Then, the two boys pulled themselves out of the bloodstained water and quickly began to climb up the trunk of the tree.

"Sel," Isaac hissed when they reached the top, "We should go."

Although the voices were still far off, neither twin spoke above a whisper.

"But Isaac – "

"There's the ridge," Isaac pointed over Selim's head to where a wall of black volcanic rock rose over the jungle like a fortress, "We can get to the meeting point, maybe join up with Halkrath. Then, we find Mom and S'Kia and get the hell out of here!"

Scar smashed his fist into the side of T'mogu'i's face. Lex watched him, wincing under the mask. Sek'Met was scouting a perimeter around the Chameleon, to keep away unexpected company. Halkrath meanwhile, had rearmed himself. The scientist stood, watching impassively. Lex made herself watch Scar in spite of the unease pooling in her stomach, 'Do not be squeamish.' She told herself, 'We have to find Selim and Isaac… just let him tell us quickly.'

"Look at me, Flesh Eater."

The larger male's eyes flicked open, crinkling in the harsh atmosphere of the planet,

"What type of crawling worm are you?"

Scar gestured at Halkrath, "My ally says are looking for me."

"I do not concern myself with little vermin like you."

"Do you not know me?" Scar dipped his head in his customary, parodic bow, "I am U'darahje."

T'mogu'i was instantly spitting with rage, "We know about you, fucker of livestock! Spawner of filth! You skinned my brethren!"

Scar dipped his head again, as if accepting a compliment, "I was not sure if any of you could read well enough to get my message."

"You will not be laughing soon," The big male's pupils were tiny slits of jet, "My brothers and I pursued your ship to this place so that we could wipe you out."

"You are not doing well so far."

"Perhaps not yet," The larger male gave a nasty grin, almost a leer. "But your little acolytes are dead meat walking."

Scar crouched down, leaning forward so his masked face was level with that of their captive, "Make no mistake." He said, "I will kill you. I will do it quickly, if you tell me what your allies are planning, how many they are and where you landed your ship."

"They say you fuck anything with a pulse," The drooling jaws spread, "Go and fuck yourself."

"You choose pain? Very well."

Scar grabbed a fistful of the others plaits and yanked the D'Kv'Var's head back, stretching his victim's neck almost to breaking point. He drew one of his long knives.

"I will scalp you." He said, quietly, "To begin with…"

Lex watched him, keeping very still to hide how much she was shrinking inside her own skin. The thought of torturing anyone was so abhorrent to her that she already tasted the salt bile in her mouth but… there were things they needed to know. Then Scar looked up, saw her watching him and paused.

"Demon."

He stuck the knife in his belt and stretched out his free hand, fingers beckoning. Lex stiffened her spine and went to him. To her surprise, he wrapped one arm around her waist and drew her close, sliding the side of his masked face against her, nuzzling her throat. Then he bowed his masked head to her, as if in submission, "I will give him to you, my torment." He purred, "My mistress, tell me; what pain would you have him suffer? What death would you have him die?"

Lex looked back at him, glad the others couldn't see her expression underneath the mask. Scar wanted her to play a part, he'd said so onboard the Chameleon, 'He knows I don't enjoy watching anyone suffer… and he never acts like this in front of other yautja. He wants them to believe the rumours about me: to frighten this D'Kv'Var badly enough so he'll tell us everything.'

She thought of the poisoned knives in her holsters and she made herself think about Selim and Isaac being captured and butchered by this creature. Rage filled her like an awful power. In that moment, she knew that if she had been able to use magic or pain to make him talk, she would have done it, 'Let them be afraid of me,' She thought, 'Let them fear what they do not understand.'

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Halkrath shift a little from foot to foot. She ignored him and ran her fingers over Scar's face, cupping his chin in her hands as if he were her obedient pet. Then she looked down at the D'Kv'Var.

"I will take his strength from him," She said, her voice sounding strange and hollow, even to herself, "I will paralyse him. The insects will eat him, mouthful by tiny mouthful. Then, his soul will be mine."

T'mogu'i's gaze swung from her to Scar, little red eyes bulging, "Kill me yourself, slave of the soft meat – but keep her shadow magic away from me!"

Scar put the blade of the sword to his throat, "Then tell me worm: tell me how many of you pathetic cowards we need to kill and tell me where your ship lies."

"We landed two clicks to the south of the ridge," Panted the D'Kv'Var, "Your allies are finished, U'darahje. Four clicks north from here, there is a stronghold. They will intercept and ambush your allies there." His jaws curled into a sneer, "Though this knowledge can do you no good. They will already have been captured and slaughtered by now – "

Scar growled, twisting the blade so that a little trickle of blood sprang up, "Just tell me the numbers."

T'mogu'i snickered, "There are ten of my brethren here already, but that number will rise fivefold when the ships come to answer to our summons."

"What summons?"

"The summons to say we have found your ship, Abomination." T'mogu'i's eyes glistened, like beads of human blood, "Telling all our brothers that we have hunted you down at last. We have been tracking for you a long time. My brothers will put you down like the weak-willed deviant you are."

Scar snorted, "They can try."

"As for you… filthy, soft-meat v'jed'lika," The red gaze shifted to Lex, "I do not doubt that your flesh is delicious. I only regret that I will not taste it – "

Scar tensed beside her, the mane rising off the back of his neck, but Lex just stared back at Tmogu'i, knowing what was coming. She did not look away as the sword came slicing round. She watched the body topple forward, headless. She felt nothing. Then she turned towards him.

"He said there were fifty more of them coming." She breathed, "Scar, we have to get to the boys before they do."

I had a bit of a longer hiatus with this last chapter as I've been really busy with real life (bloody real life). Anyway, it's a short holiday now and I can hear the creak of my neck muscles unknotting ever so slightly.

LovyDovey7 - Thanks! Glad you liked it. :)

lexia the beautiful wolf - They finally arrived, and unsurprisingly got alll protective of their babies straight away. Halkrath had to speedily recalibrate his attitude.

Miko Uchi Queen - Selim and Isaac definitely need a lot of hugs. Re your question, I think Lex can't have been much younger than late 20s - early 30s when they met, as she's so confident and a respected polar explorer. The fact that Scar's going through an initiation suggests he's quite a bit younger than her - around 17-19. As yautja mature faster, he's more like early twenties by human standards. It's 12 years on at the start of Contagion, so Lex must be at least late 30s and I can't envisage her sidestepping the biological ageing process. Scar doesn't care, he actually says in Replication that if staying with her means he only has one child, that's a price he's willing to pay. They have three children now, so he's probably satisfied. Plus, you have already seen teenage Scar - as he is late teens in Deviation.

Tenjp: Yes, grandma (makes me smile that people call her that) is definitely a bit of a nightmare, clearly it's a genetic trait. Hopefully the children inherit sanity from their mother. You are correct: lots of people are also going to die.

It's me: Thanks so much for reviewing - it makes me so happy to know my writing helped in some, small way! I think someone's going to have to die - but whether grandma will kill or be killed remains to be seen.

NemesisJudgement: Thanks for the review, glad you're enjoying it! Cool profile pic by the way.