Spyrro stood outside the clan leader's chamber, looking up at the blank faced guards that stood either side of the door, trying to gauge whether they would admit her. She felt unsure of what to do next without Xal'Uate there. Neither guard deigned to notice her, but the door to the room slid open.

"Come here." The croaking voice came from the blackness inside.

Head high, chin up, Spyrro stepped over the threshold and into the gloom, casting glances at the guards either side of her, 'Are they deaf or just stupid?'

She expected to see the giant female seated in the enormous carved chair, as she had been before, but it stood empty. Spyrro looked around, puzzled, and then saw the towering shape outlined against the stars.

She stood with her head lowered, waiting. The elder female had her back to the room, staring out at the stars as if they were something fascinating. Spyrro tried to look past her, but – though she always quite liked looking at the stars – she couldn't see anything unusual to look at out there. The silence went on for so long, she wondered if the clan leader had forgotten about her.

"You summoned me?" She said, finally.

The figure turned slowly, so slowly that Spyrro fidgeted a little, moving her weight from foot to foot. The yellow eyes still burned in the darkness, fixing on her.

"Come herrrre." It rasped, in the voice of a throat that has been cut.

Spyrro approached. Her face was still a careful blank and her stance upright. A close observer would have seen the way her body was tensed, ready for anything, but she stared up into the fearsome face with a clear gaze. The elder female waited until Spyrro was standing beside her, before she spoke again.

"Why do you think I had you brought here?"

Spyrro shook her head, "I do not know. You have not told me – "

"I mean, to this ship."

"You said you wanted to bring me up in…" She screwed up her face for a moment in the effort of remembering, "… a fitting manner."

"And why is that?"

Spyrro knew that part well enough, "Because I am your blood."

The GhaRan-S'i-Ka nodded, "You are. And your upbringing so far has been… erratic. Prey to corrupting influences."

Spyrro stayed quiet; On the way up here, she had been thinking she could speak to the clan leader again about Mei'Savir, perhaps convince her that she was wrong about him at least and maybe then use this as a way to convince her to think better of Mei'Varsi and her brothers, 'He is her son, after all … she must care for him a little.'

Now, she felt doubt creeping in. She didn't understand what "corrupting influences" meant, but it did not sound like a good thing.

"I will correct this." The GhaRan-S'i-Ka continued, "In her wisdom, the goddess has granted me the female successor I have long desired. Now, I will instil in you the courage and self-discipline befitting a female of my line."

"I have courage!"

"I am sure you do." The deep-set eyes seemed almost to be burning her skin, "Any fool can see that you have the strength and the ferocity that comes with the purity of your blood. You are not weakened and malformed, like a half breed would be."

Spyrro subsided a little. She understood almost nothing the GhaRan-S'i-Ka had said to her – except that she thought Spyrro brave and strong, which was pleasing, 'But I still hate her for what she did to my parents!'

The clan leader nodded, as if they had agreed upon something, "There is something I wish you to see."

"What is it?"

The clan leader's voice dropped to a purling growl, "What is it, GhaRan-S'i-Ka."

Spyrro's face puckered as she tried out the word, "… GhaRan-S'i-Ka."

The elder female nodded, "Come with me."

She turned from the window and Spyrro followed her towards an archway at the opposite end of the chamber. As the huge female approached, she waved a hand and the doorway slid open silently. Beyond, there was another room. Spyrro gave a little hiss of breath. All her life, she had been used to the cramped confines of the Chameleon. Very recently she had been introduced to the gigantic spaces on the Vortex and this room was more impressive than any room she had ever been in. It wasn't just the size, but the… richness of it. The floors shone liked mirrors where it reflected the light and there were carvings on the walls. It was more brightly lit than the presence chamber and as they moved further into the room she saw why.

Taking up one great wall was a huge collection of… objects. Spyrro recognised some of the weaponry; spears, swords, bows, axes, other things she did not know the names of. Alongside them were skulls of all different shapes and sizes. Nearly all of them were huge and sported fearsome teeth or horns or tusks. They stood in silence for a while. Her Father had told her about the yautja custom of taking trophies from their kills, but she had never seen such a collection before. Mei'Savir had no horde of skulls and he only kept weapons if they were useful, "I am a pirate Mei'Saithi, not a glory hunter – I am concerned with taking things which are necessary for our survival." He said to her, "What use would I have for a load of old bones, except to take up space we do not have? And besides," A grin had spread his jaws, "Your Mother would not allow it."

Spyrro hardly ever contradicted her Father – in her eyes, he could hardly do wrong – but she had liked the idea of a trophy wall, 'Why would Mei'Varsi be against such a thing?' She thought, 'She and Mei'Savir have nothing – no mementos to their strength and courage…'

Now, she felt a tiny splinter of disloyal admiration for the clan leader, 'Even if she is a nasty, mean, old bitch.'

"Do you know what this is, girl?" The GhaRan-S'i-Ka indicated a giant, crested, snaggle-toothed skull that hung in the centre of the display, dominating everything.

Spyrro had never seen the creature in real life, but she recognised the shape. Her Father had shown her images, stored in the Chameleon's memory banks. She remembered that both of her parents had killed a Queen on their first hunt and had killed more since and wondered why they had not kept a skull like this, which would have been so impressive, 'They could have kept one trophy at least…'

"It is a Queen of the kainde amedhe."

"Yesss." The big female seemed pleased, "It is indeed. The Queen I defeated on my first hunt."

Spyrro nodded. Even dead, even without any flesh, the creature looked very big and dangerous. The thought of those vast teeth closing in sent a little shiver through her. Again, she felt grudging respect.

"What do you think, girl?"

Spyrro squinted up at the monstrous skull, wondering what answer was required of her, "It is the biggest prey-beast I ever saw." She said, slowly, "So, I think you must be a great warrior."

There was a grinding laugh and the huge clawed hands grasped her shoulders in a grip like iron. Spyrro was turned inexorably around, the elder female leaning down to look at her. She made herself not flinch.

"You are correct." The clan leader intoned, "I am a great warrior. Perhaps the greatest our clan has ever seen. Certainly, I have never met a female who was my equal… until now."

Still fighting the urge to pull away, Spyrro frowned up at her, "Until now?" She repeated.

"My girl." The bigjaws spread, "My namesake, blessed with the black eyes of the goddess. What better omen could there be? What surer sign than that you were destined to be mine? There is no doubt in my mind that you were fated to come to me. That you were fated to be my heir."

Spyrro hissed, a frown pulling her brows together, "An… air?"

"You have inherited my courage, so I will make you into a warrior as great as I am." The grip tightened on her shoulders, "You will be just as powerful, just as feared."

Spyrro stared into the burning eyes, torn between disgust and fascination. In her mind, she suddenly saw herself as a great leader, like the GhaRan-S'i-Ka. A yautja warrior, as she had always dreamed of becoming, "You think I could be?"

"All shall kneel before us, Spyrro." The huge jaws spread, "All shall know our name."

Selim sat in the pilot seat of the Chameleon, bathed in the sombre illumination of silent running. He was keeping vigil, staying awake while the autopilot did the flying. His eyelids were heavy, so he levered himself out of the chair and began to pace, bouncing on the balls of his feet to wake himself up, "I must remain alert."

The others had found places to sleep, bedding down wherever there was space, though nobody – including his brother – would enter his parents' chamber.

He pressed the control to bring up the ship's course and the glowing three- dimensional map sprang up in the cockpit around him. Selim squinted at the luminous shapes, "By the look of things we are heading for the edges of Rough Skull space now, near to..." He rubbed his eyes, "U'amea system. So, To'Phet is still some distance from here."

He resumed pacing, preoccupied with his parents and the terrible fate that might have befallen them on To'Phet, 'And maybe Spyrro also. Though I still hope she was not sent with them – who could bring themselves to inflict such a fate on a child? Surely even this tyrant must have some vestiges of honour…'

An urgent bleeping from the console pulled him from his dark thoughts, and the blue glow of silent running gave way to a brighter light. Selim whirled and sprinted to the console, his eyes casting round at the controls. Sure enough, the display showed they were no longer cloaked; somehow the ship's camouflage unit had deactivated. He pressed the controls, trying to get it back up and running, but it was no use.

"For the sake of the goddess, no!" Selim dragged his claws through his braids staring down at the malevolent words for a moment, then he turned and ran for the sleeping quarters. He found Isaac curled up in the one spare pod, deeply asleep. Selim felt guilty waking him but he knew this could not wait, "Isaac!"

He shook one shoulder and his brother snorted abruptly and looked around, dazed.

"Selim? What the hell's wrong?"

"The stealth generator is down," Selim said, rapidly, "I do not know why, but it suddenly died."
"Shit!" His brother leapt to his feet and sprinted to the cockpit, with Selim on his heels, where both of them stared wide-eyed at the display. Isaac pressed a few more controls, bringing up the ship's diagnostics, "It's been damaged." He gulped "It must have happened when we scraped the doors of the Cutter."

"You said it was minor damage!"

"I thought it was!" Isaac pressed more controls, running further tests, identifying the damaged areas, "Maybe the impact loosened something that was just hanging on, but now it's come loose."

"Is that possible?" Selim's eyes darted back and forth between his brother and the screen, "Surely the damage report would – "

"Never mind about that!" Isaac's talons skittered across the console, "Go get that science guy – Halkrath – tell him what's happening." He glared into the monitor, "This is fucking trouble, Sel – serious trouble!"

Selim didn't wait to be told again. He ran down the corridor, banging hard on the doors of each of the occupied sleeping chambers. The door of Spyrro's old chamber slid open a few seconds after he hammered and Halkrath emerged. The scientist said nothing but put down the strange apparatus he was holding and followed Selim to where Isaac was still hunched over the controls.

"What has happened to the stealth generator?" Halkrath came to stand over the console next to Isaac, who was spitting out the filthiest human and yautja curses he knew.

"It has ceased to function." Selim explained "Isaac thinks it may have happened when we were escaping from the Void Cutter."

The Rough Skull's eyes narrowed "Is not the unit located inside the ship?"

"Yes," Isaac brought up a visual of the exterior of the ship, focusing on the part of the hull that was directly adjacent to the stealth unit, "But see… the hull nearby has been breached. The area is sealed from the living areas of the ship but it has caused the temperature around the unit to change…" He tailed off, seeing the scientist's blank look, "Selim, can you translate that for me?"

Selim explained in yautja as his brother requested and Halkrath frowned.

"Yes…" He rumbled "Enough of a fluctuation in temperature could interfere with the conditions inside, which might make it impossible to create the right amount of pressure inside the chamber. If that prevents the formation of singularities, that would prevent the unit from functioning."

Selim stared at him with his mouth open, he hadn't understood some of what the scientist had said but he did his best to relay it to his twin, halting over some of the unfamiliar, yautja words.

At that moment, Varrik and then Rika ambled into the cockpit.

The younger male stretched, his long arms reaching towards the ceiling, "What is all this wailing?"

Selim and Isaac exchanged a look, "The stealth unit has ceased to function," Selim said bluntly, "We are exposed. The moment any ship is within range we will be attacked."

"So?" Varrik yawned, jaws splitting like those of a weird sea creature, "If it is a problem, then fix it."

"Fix it?" Isaac rocketed to his feet, switching to yautja, "The damage is… outside the ship. The outer casing was ruptured when we escaped the Cutter. There is no way to fix it from inside."

Rika shrugged "Then we go outside." He looked at Isaac more closely, "You know how to do this?"

"Yes, I – "

Selim cut in, "We know how to go outside the ship, but we have only seldom done so."

"What?" Varrik snorted "The sons of U'darahje – the great pirate – have not been off ship?"

"S'Kia… only… allowed us to go… a few times!" Isaac snapped, "But I can … do it."

Selim sighed "We have been off ship before, but not to repair it." He explained "Mei'Savir only lets us repair the ship when we are stationary, landed on a planet."

The older male looked as if he would say more, butRika spread his jaws in a hiss, "Shut your jaws, Varrik! You have never fixed a stealth generator in a vaccum at such an age."

Varrik spat on the floor, "Perhaps they should have learned spells from their sorceress mother instead!"

Isaac's face grew dark and flushed as he translated the captain's words, but Rika ignored him, "Halkrath is the most mechanically adept." He said, "He can go and fix it and one of us can go with him."

"I shall go." Varrik decided.

The science officer had already found and was pulling on one of Scar's void suits. "I will go alone," He said calmly, "Better no assistant than an incompetent one."

"Watch your mouth, laboratory worm." Varrik gave a sullen snarl, and then turned to Rika, "You can stay and look after the children."

"But I should go!" Isaac said, "The stealth generator is… not a malfunctioning engine turbine…" He turned towards Halkrath, almost reaching out for the other's arm "Do you… know how it works?"

The scientist's eyes narrowed and he continued to pull on his void suit, "The stealth generator on this ship involves creating points of gravitational singularity for the purpose of heat dispersal – "

It took a moment for Isaac to understand this, his lips moved faintly as he tried to translate it for himself.

"He says it creates points of gravitational alone-ness?" Selim frowned "Single-ness – that cannot be right…"

Isaac's face suddenly lit up, "Not single-ness Sel, points of singularity - black holes, S'Kia told me!" He burst out, lapsing into English.

Halkrath nodded towards Selim, "I have studied this type of stealth unit before." He said "By the look of things, repairing the hull may be enough to stabilise it. If not, we will have to find a nearby planetoid to carry out more extensive repairs."

Isaac was barely listening to him, "Selim, tell him I'd be better than Varrik. He doesn't know one end of the ship from the other."

Varrik did not understand the human words but he heard his own name and growled, understanding that he was being slandered. Wordlessly, he rifled through the lockers until he found another void suit and began roughly pulling it on.

"Tell him Selim – " Isaac said again but then Rika's claw fell on his shoulder and he spun round, fists upraised, lips curling back from his long canines. Rika did not respond in kind, but he subtly shifted his stance, ready for an attack, "You lack experience." He said "And the void does not forgive error. You would put the others at risk."

Selim sensed Isaac wanted to prove himself in front of the older males but he thought Rika was probably right. He could also see that, in a moment, this disagreement was going to turn physical and his brother would be on the receiving end and would probably coming off worst. He put a hand on Isaac's other shoulder and his twin turned his head while still keeping Rika in his field of vision.

"You know I'm right Selim!" He said "None of them know the Chameleon like I do."

"Ize." He said, quietly, "You can guide them through comms if necessary."

Isaac's fists slowly lowered, but his glare did not vanish, "I want to go outside."

"Brother – "

"Sel, just tell them"

"No."

Isaac glared at him, but Selim met his gaze without emotion, "I will not let my only brother – the only member of my family I know is still living – go out there to die."

Finally, Isaac wiped his mouth on the back of his hand,"Fine, Sel – whatever. I'll be in the sleeping pod."

Rika was about to go after him,but Selim held up a hand without thinking and the older hunter halted and turned to look at him.

"Is he as good an engineer as he believes himself to be?"

Selim nodded, "It is his obsession. Mei'Savir says Isaac's mechanical skill surpassed his own long ago."

Behind him, Rika said, "I do not know which is more incredible: the boy's claims to be a prodigy or S'Kia admitting to less than total supremacy in anything! But… if he is as talented as you say, then he needs to be here – his help could prove useful."

Selim did not answer, he was still gazing after his brother, "He will return," He said, knowing that Isaac would not be able to stay away, "Give him a moment. He will calm himself. He will be back."

He turned to where Varrik and Halkrath stood, both clothed in the thick, black void suits. The scientist was flicking through the damage report data on the Chameleon's console, a tool case in one hand.

"The rest of you must put on your void suits, if there are sufficient numbers here." He said, "Who knows what may happen."

Lex stared at Scar, waiting for his reply, her stomach a boiling pit of anxiety, 'If he tells me he fucked Sek'Met, I'm going to throw up.'

"I left you." He spoke the words through gritted teeth, "Before you lost your memory, you accused me of… running out on you… and you were right. I let my fear for the children… rule me. I stole the boys and I… deserted you."

"You … left me?"

He nodded, "And that issss why … I must tell you. To win you back… based on lies… that would be to dishonour you."

Lex stared at him, the grogginess of sleep fading away. At his words, a memory had loomed up, like a shipwreck dredged from a muddy seabed. She saw herself waking up alone on Belua; the cold and the stillness of the empty Dragonfly; discovering that he really had gone and that the boys were gone too. She remembered the misery, the months of searching… it was too much, too much to take in at once. She sat for a few minutes, stunned, winded. Finally, she managed to find her voice again, "Why would you do that?"

"I… feared they were becoming weak… that you were too soft on them; I thought I could teach them be stronger… away from you. Then Spyrro… ran away."

More images crowded in on her; the Dragonfly rising with Spyrro inside, a silver dot into the blue morning sky; the desperate chase over the mountains; the bloody battle on the clifftop; fire and carnage everywhere… and Scar looming up out of the river, swords drawn. She put a hand to her forehead, eyes screwed shut.

"Why did you come back – how did you even know?"

"You called for my help… and I came. Of course, I came back! I tried to forget you – "

She said nothing, but she winced.

"Lex, I was miserable without you… more miserable than I ever thought possible. I… was wrong to leave you."

A shiver crawled across her skin, a premonition of worse news to come.

"So where are the children now?" She demanded.

"The clan keeps them."

She put a hand to her mouth, "Oh, my God…"

"I will get them, Lex, I swear. We will get them back." He said, "I did before. We had them in our grasp – we had them! – but the clan took them. I will do anything in my power to retrieve them."

"And that should make me forgive you?"

"No!" he burst out, "You know… I would save them, no matter what. You owe me nothing."

She gave a little, half-choking laugh, "After you brought me back from the dead?"

"A selfish act… because I could not bear for you to die." One jaw spread a little, the ghost of amusement, "You do not… remember, but I tried already to… get you back. You told me to go to… hell."

She gave a gulp of laughter that had no mirth in it, "That sounds like me."

"But you were right. Just as you were right… about everything else!"

"Everything else?"

"I do feel it, that human… word you like so much to hear."

"Are you trying to say you're 'sorry' for something, Scar?" She rubbed her forehead wearily as she looked at him, one eyebrow raised, "Because it doesn't count if you don't actually say the word."

"No! That is… not the word I intended. I meant the other… word."

"What word?"

"Love. I love you."

She sat up and stared at him. Her throat moved, swallowing, but she could not speak.

"You think I… do not understand it," He went on, "But I do. Even though it is a… human word… I know what it means. I know… need you to feel at peace. That I care for you… and the children more… than myself."

All at once, he was beside her, falling to his knees at her feet. She stared at him, the realisation striking her that she had never before seen him kneel to anyone of his own volition. Not to Nar'Jat, not to the GhaRan-S'i-Ka. Never.

"I have… wronged you." He said slowly, "I do not expect… forgiveness… but if you grant it to me, I will not rest until I… deserve it."

She watched, dumbstruck, as he took her hand and pressed it to his chest, mirroring what she had done to him, the splotches of healing resin rough where they marred his patterned skin.

"Lex, I want to come home." He said, "Di n'eh sa-ytei mi h'chak de si'aya. Le'yin nan'ke. Ki-mei el'os-de."

She shivered, hairs lifting on her arms. She understood the words; "I beg you, have mercy upon me. Return to me my life. It is yours already."

It sounded like the language of yautja combat; formal and poetic, 'Except that yautja don't beg for mercy.'

His pulse was bludgeoning against her palm, but he watched her with absolute stillness, searching her gaze as if to glimpse the flashing tailfin of her thoughts. She could only stare back, 'I should hate him… I should want him dead, after what he did to me…"

The images played out in her memory again, a series of sad little vignettes – his desertion, her misery and loneliness, the boys' absence – but they were in monochrome. Dim and muted now beside the awful, technicolour memory of seeing him pinned by those giant, merciless claws… and the almighty relief of seeing him step through the airlock door, alive.

'What he did was wrong… but he did it to protect the boys. No matter how misguided, it's because he loves them. I can't bear to lose the children.' She swallowed down pain, 'But I can't bear to lose him either… when I thought he was going to die, I'd have sold my soul to save him'

Out of the fog of memory, some more yautja words came back to her; 'The D'aRan-thwei – the debt of blood; 'They believe that when you save someone's life, it's yours.' She sighed, 'Maybe some debts you never get clear of.'

"Get up, you Bonehead." There were tears on her lashes, but she was smiling, "I accept your sorry."

"You remember?" His pupils were huge; dark worlds, ringed with yellow fire, "You remember … and you still forgive me?"

"I remember and I still love you." She said softly, "Mei nan'ke el'os-de, sei nan'ke mi-de." {"My life is yours, as yours is mine"}

She put her hands either side of his face and kissed him. Soft, little kisses at first but then kissing him harder. His sulphurous eyes closed and he slid his arms around her shoulders, blindly rubbing his jawbone along the side of her face, a deep purr resonating against her throat. Her head was swimming but she sighed with relief as she breathed in the familiar scent of blood and sweat and violence.

He hesitated for a moment, holding himself back, obviously worried about hurting her but she laced her arms tightly around him and his resistance dissolved. He pressed himself against her, holding onto her tightly, as if he were afraid that she might vanish, as if he could merge himself into her.

He lifted her up, pushing her onto her back, and she pulled him closer. The patches of resin were rough and scratchy against her chest, but she didn't feel them. She forgot everything except the need to feel his skin slick against hers; his talons grazing her flesh and his weight pressing down on her. She felt no pain; only the absolute need to claim him back again.

Thank the gods for the weekend. I am pretending that I spend it in a hottub, drinking champagne but really I'm on the sofa. Hope everyone is also having time off.

I enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you enjoy reading it. If you do, please follow, favourite, review - all that jazz.

lexia the beautiful wolf - hope it wasn't too long a wait. The boys are on their way (kind of).

LovyDovy7: Scar has learned a hard lesson. The boys are also going through the wringer. This should add up to emotional maturity, right?

sess18: Hi, thanks for reviewing! Yes, he could have lied and said it was all fine but that's not really who he is. Not anymore, anyway.

Tenjp: He finally said the words. Being in love does mean sometimes having to say you're sorry. :) It's nothing more than Lex deserved after everything she's been through!

.Queen: Hope this puts a temporary end to your suffering!