Selim stood in front of the airlock of the Fury; scanning the forest. In one hand he held a sivk'va-tai – one of several they had taken from the D'AKv'var ship. He had been posted as lookout. Inside, Halkrath and Isaac were busy modifying the engines of the Fury – hoping to make them burn hot enough to escape the planet's strangling embrace.

His eyes and even his mouth felt gritty with fatigue, and he was unable to remember the last time he had really slept. All around him the ash pattered down, turning the night to ghostly monochrome. Thick, grey smoke now billowed between the trees in swelling clouds, making strange, fantastical shapes out of every shadow and tree branch and clump of glowing fungus. Twice he raised the plasma cannon and then lowered it again. Digging his claws into his palms, he willed himself to stay alert.

'I cannot let anything get past me now – not when we are so close to escape!'

He knew that it was likely some of the D'AKv'var still remained alive in the area, 'Mei'Savir and Mei'Varsi managed to kill many, but they said more were coming."

His head turned sharply at a sudden noise, but then he relaxed as he saw the hatch of the Fury slide apart. Halkrath stepped out, his hands smeared with oil and grease, his armour and his already greyish skin made greyer still by the layer of ash that coated him all over.

"Any movement?" He asked.

"I have seen no signs of the D'AKv'var," Selim said, "But I do not like this smoke."

Halkrath nodded, "It is getting thicker, just like the ash – not a good sign."

"What does it mean?"

"An intensifying of volcanic activity." Halkrath's gaze swept the clearing, "We must take off."

Selim's turned sharply to look at him, "But Mei'Savir and Mei'Varsi are not back yet. We have to wait."

"Hrrrrm," The scientist was still looking around him, "I do not think it would be wise to remain here much longer. If volcanic activity in this sector is intensifying, it could become very unstable – "

"We cannot take off," Selim was trying not to raise his voice, "Not for volcanic activity you are not sure about?!"

Halkrath's mask regarded him blankly, "Selim, we must be rational."

"How can it be rational to abandon my parents here?" Selim did not shout, but his body had gone rigid.

"Without the ship's instruments I am unable to determine exactly the level of local seismic activity, but a volcanic eruption in this region would kill us just as surely as an enemy attack. There would be a huge cloud of corrosive gas, travelling at unguessable speed."

"Mei'Savir told you to wait here."

"S'Kia may not be thinking… clearly at present," Halkrath said, his voice very low.

Selim fell silent. If Halkrath had been loud or aggressive, he could have snarled back at him but the scientist's quiet tones reminded him of the conversation he had overheard in the hold. Mei'Savir asking about the antivirus… behaving oddly…unwilling even to touch him. Dread made another plunge in the pit of his stomach, just like it had done then.

"What are you not saying?" Selim growled, "Tell me! I am a Rough Skull!"

Halkrath drew breath as if to answer, when a muffled crash and a curse echoed from inside the shuttle. At once the scientist swung himself back through the airlock, leaving Selim standing in the clearing. He stared after Halkrath, the smoky silence around him so thick that the sound of his breath seemed too loud.

"Turn around," Grated a voice, "Rough Skull."


"What do you… want?"

Scar's voice was little more than a hiss in the velvety silence of the hold. All around him was blackness. Only the jewelled, green eyes of the Oriande filled his vision. Heat radiated from its muscled body and the musky smell coming off its pelt hung in the air.

"Do you not know me, S'Kia?"

The words formed in his brain without speech, but he knew they came from the Oriande.

"No."

He didn't know if he'd spoken the word aloud – he was barely able summon breath – but whether he spoke it or just thought it, the Oriande understood. It wrinkled its snout, its mouth feelers flickering over his face.

"You lie."

The answer arrived in his mind without going via his ears.

"Go away." He twisted his head to one side and then the other, "You are… brain sickness… an hallucination… from the… antivirus."

Slowly, leisurely, the Oriande stretched out one huge paw, pinning his face to the deck. It held him there, claws unsheathing and retracting against his face in painful ecstasy. He could only lie there, too weak to resist.

"See me."

It reared up, front legs rending the air; its body morphing and changing. Thick, muscular legs were lengthening and straightening; chest and shoulders spreading wider. Its eyes were shimmering; colours shifting. The green in them drained out like blood all around them, lighting up the hold, filling it with dancing, bright sparks.

Scar screwed his eyes up, trying to block it out: 'I need to …regain control!'

Then he heard another voice. A voice he knew. A voice he had once known better than any other.

"S'Kia."

His eyes flew open and saw a pair of eyes. Yellow, just like his own. He squinted, not able to trust his senses.

"Mei'Varsi?"

She gazed down at him, "My son."

His Mother's jaws did not move, yet still he heard her voice in his head, just as he had done with the Oriande.

"You…" He rasped it out loud this time, lungs rattling, "You are not here."

"My youngest one," She purred, "You know that you are mine."

"You hate… me!"

"No. No, my youngesssst."

Her talons lightly stroked his face, their touch burning with the pain of a thousand missed touches. He had missed her every day of his childhood; every moment from the moment he had been sent away from her. Scar tried to move. He wanted to rip himself away from her, but he was too weak. For the first time since long ago, hot, powerless tears were swelling under his eyelids.

"You …" He hissed, voice shaking, "You… tried to… kill me…"

"No." She said, "I just want you with me. For always.

"You are… not real." He clenched his eyes shut, "You-are-not-real!"

"Look at me, S'Kia."

"Fuck you!"

"Look at me."

Her voice multiplied and echoed inside his head; a chorus that would not be resisted. Her talons tightened on his face and his eyelids peeled apart without wanting to. Her eyes grew darker until the bright yellow was all gone. Her tusked jaws shrank, metamorphosising. Small, neat teeth, disappearing behind voluptuous lips.

"Do you know me now?"

Scar stared, unable to make sense of what he was seeing.

"Lex?"


"That is the last of them, witch."

Lex was keeping lookout at the hatch, gazing out anxiously at the jungle – cast a brief glance over her shoulder at Sek'Met where she was emerging from the hold of the Chameleon.

"Just call me Lex." She said, in yautja.

Sek'Met shrugged, shaking her plaits, "What does it matter what I call you? We are rivals."

"We need not be."

"How can we be other?"

Lex was absorbed in watching the jungle, "You are younger than I." She said quietly, "Much younger – as you yourself said. But I have learned lessons that you have not, and one thing I know is that life lasts a long time. You may find that the opinions you hold and the things you think important now may change."

"The counsel of a witch," The female snarled, "To abandon all I hold true!"

"You need not abandon anything; time will bring the change to you."

Insects chirruped and whined in the silence.

"Where is U'darahje?" Sek'Met said finally, "And your sons?"

"That is what concerns me." Lex said, grimly, "They should be back by now."

The youngblood snarled, "They should have finished the work on the Fury."

Lex said nothing, but fear twisted in knot in her gut. Sek'Met had spoken her thoughts out loud. There was silence, filled by the chirruping of jungle life.

Sek'Met's clicking growl mixed with the shrieking insects.

"I want my ship back!"

"I will find them," Lex straightened up, "You stay here and watch the Chameleon."

Immediately, Sek'Met bristled, "I will not be ordered!"

"It was not an order." Lex threw over her shoulder.

She heard the shriek of wristblades shooting out and spun around to face the female.

"We cannot sit here like prey!" Sek'Met growled, "I need to get Jah'Di'Tou away from this accursed place."

"You promised us your allegiance."

"Why should I listen to you?"

"Because we are Rough Skulls together." Lex said, keeping her voice calm and measured, "Right now, I need you to guard my ship and the antivirus that is going to save our clan."

They stood in the corridor of the Chameleon, face to face. Sek'Met's dah'kte were drawn and glinting, her stance ready for combat. Lex kept her own wristblades sheathed, but her hands drifted imperceptibly towards the holsters that held her poison daggers, ready to draw. When the youngblood made no move, Lex made as if to turn.

"Pyode amedhe." The female spat.

Lex stopped, hands hovering over the hilts of the poison daggers, 'If I let her insult me and go unchallenged, she will take it for weakness. I can never turn my back on her.'

"You still want to fight me?" She said.

Sek'Met stayed frozen for a moment, then she sheathed her wrist knives, "No," She said, "The D'aRan-thwei is between us. It is – "

"I know what the blood debt is." Lex's hands did not move from away from the daggers.

"U'darahje would have killed me, but you stayed his hand." The female continued, her hands clenching into fists, "And the Nameless One devours those who do not honour such a debt. I would not dishonour myself so."

"But you left us the plasma cannon, in the egg chamber," Lex frowned under her mask, "Surely all debts are now discharged."

"The Goddess sees all that is inside us. She sees what is in my mind," The female tossed her braids, with a snort, "She knows well enough that I did not leave the gun to save you."

Lex stared at her for a moment, then she shook her head, "I do not have time for this."

She turned to go, her foot on the threshold of the Chameleon, when a red point of light flickered over her face…

Lex threw herself backwards instincts overriding thought as the heat of a plasma blast whispered past her face, exploding in sparks against the side of the ship. She pressed herself back inside the inner airlock, pulling her own plasma cannon. In the corridor, Sek'Met stood flattened against the wall, sivk'va-tai in hand. Lex peered around the side of the hatch.

A tall, rangy hunter had stepped out of the jungle. His armour and clan markings proclaimed him as D'AKv'var, though she hadn't seen him in the clearing during the attack. Long plaits twisted down from his head; his armour carved with tortuous, intricate designs; obviously some kind of priest or seer. She the D'AKv'var believed in magic. He was not holding a gun, and the fact that he had shown himself so readily made her apprehensive, 'He must not be alone – there must be allies in the trees, covering him.'

"V'Jed'likaaaa!" He called, "Come out, Slut of the Abomination!"

"I do not answer to 'slut' or 'witch'." She yelled back, "I am a Rough Skull!"

"I thought Rough Skulls do not know fear?" He sneered, "Come out then, Rough Skull."

Lex stayed quiet but she looked at Sek'Met. The female had crept to the head of the corridor. Now she was inside the outer lock, pressed against the wall opposite.

"You are afraid, witch?" Called the D'AKv'var, laughter shaking his voice, "I will not shoot you."

"He lies." Sek'Met growled.

"I know." Lex nodded, her voice barely more than a breath, "But S'Kia and the boys could be about to walk into a trap."

"U'da rahje could not be so easily caught."

"You decide," Lex hissed back, "Are we Rough Skulls together or not?"

Sek'Met was silent for a moment, then she dipped her head very slightly.

"They do not know you are here," Lex whispered, "Cover me."


Lex stood over him, a slick of black coating her bare skin. What had looked at first to Scar's groggy eyes like clinging material seemed now to be a thick, viscous liquid pouring over her. Rivers of black streamed down onto him like blood, running down his chest Around them, the hold was full of bright, green light; vivid motes dancing and sparkling in the air. The luminescence outlined her, glistening off the slick, shiny contours of her flesh. He tried to lift an arm to touch her but he could not. She leaned down to him slowly, closer and closer, until she filled his vision.

"S'Kia," She said in yautja, "I want you."

He shut his eyes as she dragged her fingers through his plaits.

"I want you." She sighed in his ear, pressing her nearly naked body against his, "Be with me. Now."

The feeling of her hot breath sent delirious shivers through him, but his shaking limbs would not obey him, "I … cannot…"

"You want to." She crooned, trailing her hand from his chest down over his belly, "Is not this the shape you like best?"

His eyes narrowed, "Shape…?"

"I look this way, to please you." She pulled back and looked at him, fixing him with the same black-eyed gaze; the same soft, smiling human lips that always filled him with lust, "Surely you know me?"

Through the fog in his brain, he squinted at her, "You are… Lex…"

Her eyes grew wide and her lips split apart, revealing sharp, white teeth, "You have always been my champion." She breathed, "You always have killed in my honour."

Scar knew he had heard those words before. He tried to remember where he had heard them, his brow knotting painfully.

Still smiling, she stroked her fingers along his inner thigh. "You have dispatched to me countless offerings, lives unnumbered. I gave you… a gift."

"A… gift?"

Her fingertips traced little, teasing circles on his skin, "You made me a promise."

Scar was thinking furiously, trying hard to remember "I promised you we would get the children back - "

She shook her head and then leaned close; her mouth wet against his ear.

"Your life… in exchange for her life."

Scar's eyes had drifted closed, now they slammed open. He stared at her, jaws gaping, "Bitch goddess!"

She smiled at him; her face surrounded by points of eerie green light. She chewed her soft lower lip in her teeth as if she were holding back laughter. "Whatever I want, S'Kia." She said, "You told me to take it."

She was no longer laughing, her dark pupils swelling to the size of black holes as she leaned over him.

"You are mine, S'Kia." She said, "And I am here to take what is mine."


"Mine." Isaac snarled to himself, as he resealed a drive plate in the Fury's engine room, "The. Chameleon. Is. Mine!"

Every word was punctuated by a blinding burst of sparks from the welding tool.

"I should be working on her," His voice hissed between clenched teeth, "Not fixing some enemy ship!"

He finished the plate he was working on and snatched up another, slamming it in place and firing up the tool again.

"Who cares about Scar? Or his clan? Or their war?!"

Metal alloy bubbled under the flaring heat.

"Why are we still here?!"

Isaac shifted his hold slightly, but it was obviously too soon to let go. The plate slipped from its place and fell to the floor with a ringing crash.

"Motherfucker!"

Isaac sat back on his haunches. He pushed up the dark visor of the too-big welding mask and dragged a fist across his gritty eyes. He'd had no sleep since being on board the Chameleon and then it had been a twitchy, uneasy nap. Now his hands felt clumsy, as if encased in metal gauntlets. Wiping the viscous engine lubricant from his hands, Isaac straightened up and looked around. He was still alone. Halkrath hadn't come back yet. Isaac straightened up, listening for a moment. Before there had been silence, but now he thought he detected the faint echo of voices, bouncing down the metal corridor to where he stood in the belly of the ship. A jolt of alarm shot through him but then he shook his head, "Selim and Halkrath are on guard outside," He told himself, "They're probably just shooting the breeze…"

He stood for long minutes, straining his ears, trying to reassure himself, but for some reason unease still jangled through every cell. Automatically, he tested his wristblades. They slid out at once; a dull shriek in the darkened hold. Snatching up his mask and slotting it onto his face, he silently climbed the ladder out of the engine area. A quick glance along the corridor made his pulse jump like startled prey. The airlock was open; a window onto a dark, ash-laden jungle. Now he heard them more clearly; yautja voices. Ones he did not recognise…


Selim turned. A set of dah'kte held steady at his throat. Knowing flinching would mean death, he held himself absolutely still and focused his eyes down the length of the blades. At the end of them stood a tall, broad-shouldered hunter, with skin so dark it was almost black.

He cursed silently as more shapes emerged out of the drifting clouds of smoke. Now, the clearing was full of yautja warriors, armed and ready for battle, but he felt a tiny spark of hope as he realised; they were not D'AKv'var. They were tall and heavyset like them, but the style of their armour, braids and clan tattoos were familiar.

"I am a Rough Skull." He said, his voice steady, "Just as you are."

The hunter stayed still for a moment, then its head dipped slowly in confirmation.

'They are Rough Skulls! But how – ?' An awful thought sluiced through Selim's brain, 'What if they have been sent here by Nar'Jat, to recapture us?'

He was suddenly very relieved that his mask hid his face.

The hunter had still not moved the blades, "You are very young to be here… alone."

Selim did not want them to betray the presence of Halkrath and Isaac, 'Perhaps they will see the danger and be able to take off and get away!'

Aloud, he said, "My party was ambushed by D'AKv'var."

The hunter did not move, studying him closely. Then, without moving the blades one millimetre, it turned its braided head and said one word.

"GhaRan-S'i-Ka."


Hello out there to anyone who's still reading!

I'm sorry it's been such a long time since my last post. Without wishing to sound corny, my life has changed a lot. After a long period of being a single parent, I met someone - another single parent. From having just my own beloved offspring in my life, I now have several more small beings to consider. It's early days but it's been crazy busy, which hasn't left me much time to write.

I hope it hasn't affected the quality of the writing and that you enjoy this chapter. Either way, I hope you will follow, favourite and leave me a review. I always enjoy reading them.

Love n hugs ScifiTrash x