Smoke curled in the air, snaking between the tree trunks like the tendrils of some malign intelligence. The D'AKv'var sentry stood beneath one of the tallest trees, ki'cti-pa gripped in one hand. It was true night now and a hot, thick darkness smothered everything. The only noises in the jungle were the lazy ripples of the swamp and the ever-present hum and chatter of insects. Occasionally, the stillness was broken by the mournful, shivering howl of a beast calling for its young.

The sentry's masked face turned first one and then the other, the plasma cannon on his shoulder tracking silently with his gaze. At some tiny, almost imperceptible noise, both swivelled sharply. He began to move forward, every muscle poised to attack. A shape fell noiselessly from the branches above, striking him in the back of the neck, blades finding his vertebrae. Glowing green splattered across the leaves and his head dropped heavily into the soft leaf litter.

Scar straightened up, flicking the gore from his dah'kte. Behind him, Lex swung herself down from the tree branch and, after a moment, Sek'Met and Halkrath faded into view, stepping out of the oily darkness.

"We must be close." Lex hissed.

Scar nodded. The smoke was thicker here, a dark infection spreading from a gangrenous wound. He breathed in deeply… and felt the unmistakeable catch of his lungs refusing to fill properly, as if they were choked with the grey ash drifting down all around them. He inhaled again, ignoring the feeling, overriding it, 'Strength, bitch-goddess. Give me strength. You cannot have me, yet.'

Terror coursed through Selim like a shot of liquid nitrogen, spurring his muscles into action. He dug his claws in, heedless of the pain as talons were ripped out against the jagged rocks. His left arm throbbed and something hot spilled down his shoulder blade, sensation almost drowned out by the panic blaring in his mind.

"Isaac!" He bellowed, "Isaac, where are you?"

"Come down," The voices droned beneath him, "Come down to us, spawn of the Abomination."

Metal rang on stone again as a phalanx of blades hit the cliff face below him, missing him and ricocheting off again. Projectiles flashed past his vision, pinwheeling into the sky, 'They already hit me once, what if they manage it again?'

Selim hauled himself up, his torn shoulder going numb now, his fingers clumsy. He gripped, missed his hold, claws slipping, showering scree onto the D'AKv'var below. Their chittering laughter echoed in his ears like the clatter of insects. He dug his talons in again but his trembling arms had begun to lose feeling.

"Isaac!"

Selim tried to shout, but he was winded, his voice scarcely more than a croak - muffled by the mask. He knew Isaac could not possibly hear him – he could barely hear himself over the gasping of his own breath, his pulse booming in his temples like an executioner's drumbeat.

"Selim!"

Selim's head snapped upwards to see Isaac's mask appear at the top of the cliff, like a miracle. Without a thought in his head, he flung out his hand for his brother, for life, for safety. At the same moment, a mosquito whine sounded in his ear and a blade tore the back of his hand. Selim gritted his jaw, the shock running all through him, gouts of his own blood splotching the visor of his mask.

Rika's vision faded in and out of focus as the heat from the fire grew hot and then hotter. Sometimes he thought he was in the fire but then other times he saw others burning. Sometimes it was Varrik who writhed in the flames. Sometimes it was S'Kia's two sons he saw, limbs twisting, skin blackening. Everything whirled round, a vortex of rhythmic, pulsing sickness, woven with fire while he struggled to breathe, coughing and gasping in the foul, ash-laden air.

A hissing noise began to intrude on his mind and then the sensation of something smooth pressed to the side of his face. There was a waft of burning flesh. The stink of it suddenly focused his mind on the burning pain in the side of his face. With a great effort he forced his eyelids apart, everything blurring and wavering like a mirage, but somehow he managed to lock his eyes on the D'AKv'var with the twisted braids – the one they called Shihir. Rika's jaws clenched tight, but he did not shake or betray any other sign that he felt the burning metal pressed against his face, causing his skin to bubble. He held himself in stillness, staring fixedly at the bone studded mask of Shihir, eyes wide despite the sting of the smoke and the ash in the air that made them stream as if he were weeping.

It took a moment for Rika to understand that he was no longer pinned to the barrier wall. His arms were bound behind him, stretched backwards so far, it almost felt like they were being pulled out of their sockets, his spine crushed against something hard and rough. He tried to move, but he could not. He was bound to the stake in the middle of the clearing, tied there just like the incinerated, blackened thing that had once been a Rough Skull, just like him. He knew then just what fate the D'AKv'Var were preparing for him.

"I say we cook him now."

Another mask appeared close by Shihir. The male raised a burning torch. By its greasy light, Rika thought that reinforcements must have arrived to swell their captors' numbers. Before them stood the torch bearer and the spirit summoner. Around the clearing stood four more males. The two sentries were still there, standing like twin pillars of stone. He looked back to Shihir and the other male. Both were watching him, as if expecting him to speak.

Shihir clicked, "He will not answer."

The spirit summoner sounded amused but the torch bearer shook his head, "Stupid." He spat, "The clan slaves all try to conceal their pain, but they allll fail. It only makes it more entertaining when they start crying and begging like children!"

He lowered the torch to the desiccated branches piled at Rika's feet… then stopped dead at a noise from the forest outside; a muted thud, like a body hitting the ground. An object hurtled out of the darkness and landed in the clearing, bouncing and rolling to a stop right at the torch bearer's feet. All the yautja in the circle threw themselves away from it, clearly expecting a grenade, and for an instant Rika thought it was a bomb too. Then he noticed the gory, matted braids, trailing behind a metal visor.

Then, the night lit up with a crash of plasma and the torch bearer's skull exploded in a spray of green mist. The heads of all of the D'AKv'Var jerked upwards to where the sentries had been standing seconds before as a hail of plasma fire ripped through them, cutting down another Flesh Eater. Rika screwed up his eyes, trying to clear the stinging ash that was blearing his vision. A shape bigger than any of his tormentorsdropped into the circle of light, wielding two long, glowing swords. Luminous gore splattered across the clearing in wide, messy arcs as the blades carved through everything in their path, as if they were the only solid objects in a world of shifting shadows. More figures leapt down amongst them and the clearing erupted in chaos, bodies struggling and hacking at each other amidst the fire and twisted corpses. The nearest enemy's abdomen exploded, steaming innards bursting from a diagonal, double slice as the D'AKv'Var lunged and fired wildly at their attackers.

Rika gasped for breath, trying to make sense of at was going on: the noise, the fiery heat, the howls of pain. Dark insect wings beat against his brain and the clearing swirled around him in a sickening vortex. Then everything slewed out from under him, spilling him down into the darkness.

Streamers of Selim's iridescent blood spattered across Isaac's mask, an electric shock galvanizing his brain.

"Hang on, Sel!"

Grabbing the bag that held his father's pirate weapons, he rummaged desperately, sweat beading his brow and slicking his back. Then his questing hands closed on what he was looking for and he pulled a clutch of grenades and the small tube and evil, barbed hook of a grapnel launcher. Attaching the grenades to his belt he aimed the grapnel point blank at a rocky outcrop and fired. The wicked barbs buried themselves in the stone and Isaac tugged once, twice, testing the line, clipping it onto himself and grasping the rope loosely. With no thought in his head but his brother, he jumped off the cliff, holding down the release trigger, hearing the whistle as the line paid out behind him. As they spotted him, the D'AKv'Var bellowed with laughter.

"We have found a matched pair of witch's bastards." Chanted the largest one, "Come down, little ones. Do not make me come up or it will be worse for you!"

Isaac ignored them, stretching out for Selim's torn, failing fingers as they fluttered upwards. Their hands met and gripped; the skin of their palms slippery.

"Ize!"

Selim grunted and Isaac glimpsed reddish green on his wrist; his brother's hand was sticky with blood, not sweat. He paid out the line again, dropping lower, so he was level with his twin.

"Hold onto me, Sel."

With a gasp, Selim threw an arm round his brother's neck and Isaac felt more blood, running warm down his back. He growled as the D'AKv'Var yammered like a pack of wolves, willing the prey to fall into their waiting mouths.

"Can you climb up?"

Selim's throat convulsed, swallowing, "I can try."

He lifted his hands to the rope, but his fingers slipped and fumbled, slithering on the now blood-slicked line. Isaac shook his head, "Just hold on then."

He pulled them up, arms straining under their combined weight. Something hot went singing by them, singeing the hairs on his arm with a frazzling intensity. Isaac froze and Selim froze too as both of them understood what that meant, "Their plasma cannons are functional!" Selim hissed.

He did not have to say any more. Isaac knew that the D'AKv'Var could easily cook them alive now if they wanted to. They were screwed. There was only one thing he could think of, the last trick – the last 'fuck you' – he could deal them. With one hand holding tight to the grapnel line, Isaac's other hand went to the clutch of grenades at his belt and gripped three of them.

"Ready to take them all down with us?" Isaac knew that, at this range, the impact from so many bombs would almost certainly cause them to fall. He knew Selim knew it too.

"Izzzze, no…" His brother growled and gripped his wrist.

'Can't admit when we're beat, huh? Must be a family trait.' Isaac grinned under his mask, "Well at least let's make 'em hurt."

He activated one of the grenades. The tiny red light winked at them both like an evil conspirator. He felt Selim's arm tighten around his neck. Then he opened his hand and let the bomb drop…

Lex landed on her feet in the terrible clearing, the sight and sounds of death all around her. She shut her mind to the grisly trophies and maimed bodies on the wall of twisted branches, her eye falling on a hunter tied to the stake. His small stature and sandy skin colour snagged her attention, 'Rika!'

She ran towards him, thinking if she could save him he might tell her where the boys were. A dark shape loomed up on her right, a set of dah'kte whistling through the air. She crouched low and stabbed; it wasn't a deep wound but it didn't need to be, not with Thei-De Nanth'e. The D'AKv'Var collapsed as soon as her blade pierced his skin, legs buckling under him. Lex darted out from under his falling body and ran on, leaping over tree roots and spinning out of the clutching grasp of another enemy, lashing out with the daggers and cutting off two of his outstretched fingers. He toppled like a tree as the toxin did its swift work.

Skidding to a halt in front of the stake, Lex looked round, scanning for more D'AKv'Var, but S'Kia and the others seemed to be keeping them busy for now. The pyre at Rika's feet was smouldering, sparks from the fire catching on the dried, sulphur-coated brushwood. Sheathing the poison knives, she hastily stamped out the embers and put her hand to his hanging head, lifting it up.

"Rika?" She said sharply, "Rika! Can you hear me?"

He jerked awake at her voice, then his yellow eyes rolled upwards for a moment as he slewed in and out of consciousness.

"Who… is it?"

"It is me, Rika! It is Lex."

She used her dah'kte to cut him loose. To her dismay he fell forward and she caught him awkwardly. Even though he was short compared to other yautja he was still heavier than most humans. Sweating with effort, she manhandled him into sitting position, propping his back up against the stake. He seemed to be slipping back under and she noticed now that half his face and part of his chest were a mess of raw, burned meat where the D'AKv'Var had tortured him.

"Rika!" She retracted the dah'kte and lifted his flickering eyelids with a finger, "Where are Selim and Isaac?"

"The... jungle." He slurred.

"You mean they managed to get away?"

"They escaped…" Rika rolled his head like somebody in a fever, "Where is… Varrik?"

Lex's brows drew together under her mask, but before she could ask him anything else, a warning tingled up her spine. She wheeled round, hands going for her daggers to see a D'AKv'Var looming over her, the triple blades of his dah'kte glinting in the firelight. She leapt backwards, whipping the knives from their holsters. Before she could use them, Scar crashed into her attacker from the side, slicing off his outstretched hand with one swing of a sword. The D'AKv'Var gave a roar of fury and whirled towards Scar, luminous blood spraying from the ravaged stump of his wrist. He lashed out with the blades on his uninjured hand, slicing three thin wounds across Scar's arm that streamed glowing green. Scar grabbed his wrist. Holding back the blades with one hand, he hit his opponent in the jaw with a punch like a battering ram, knocking the mask from his face. Immediately the D'AKv'Var began to cough and splutter in the horrible, ash-filled atmosphere. He staggered backwards and Scar followed him, raining down blows, leaving no opening. The clearing was quiet now, the rest of the enemy fightersdead – or maybe fled – she hadn't noticed in her haste to get to Rika. Sek'Met and Halkrath watched silently, both of their dah'kte dripping green. The sole surviving enemy fighter was now on his knees, bleeding from a large leg wound while Scar gripped his one remaining wrist, forcing him down.

"Where are the juveniles?" Scar's voice was a bestial hiss. Blood covered his torso and arms and shoulders, as if he had bathed in it for some pagan ritual.

"The witch's brats, you mean?" The D'AKv'Var shot a red-eyed glare at Lex and spat on the floor, "Your profane offspring?"

"Give them to me." Scar tightened his claws on the other's wrist, twisting it so hard Lex could almost feel the bone scrape "Give me my sons!"

"Fuck you, Abomination!" The other spluttered, through clenched jaws, "You skinned my brothers!"

"Kill him, U'darahje!" Sek'Met burst out, "Such filth deserves death."

Scar ignored her, grasping the D'AKv'Var by the throat.

"They are mine." He growled, "If you do not give me my sons, I will feed you into the fire feet first so you can see what is happening to you!"

The D'AKv'Var curled his jaws up, "You blasphemous mongrel, I will never succumb to such as you!"

"You will tell me!"

Scar roared, his voice deafening in the hush of the falling grey flakes. Lex noticed he was sweating, rivulets of perspiration rolling down his skin, making tracks through the gore and grimy ash, his chest heaving so that she could hear the catch in his breath. Her stomach lurched, 'What if he collapses? How will we save the boys? How will I get him out of here?'

"S'Kia." She said.

At once, both Scar and the D'AKv'Var turned to look at her. She was aware of Sek'Met's suspicious gaze and Halkrath, watching with the same detachment he had shown before.

She stepped forward, "Give him to me."

Scar stayed absolutely still for a few seconds. Then he lowered his head in submission, "As you wish, mistress." He said, "Whatever you desire."

He turned the D'AKv'Var to face her, claws gripping the nape of his neck, twisting the one remaining hand up behind his back. Lex looked down into the glinting, red eyes, "I will make him speak."

"Her touch is poison!" The Flesh Eater's face twisted, his jaws curled up on themselves, his pale skin going paler still, "Stay back, abominable slut!"

"Tell me where our sons are."

His jaws shut tighter, his brows drawing down stubbornly.

She looked up at Scar, "Bring him closer."

At once, he thrust the D'AKv'Var towards her, holding him out like a sacrificial offering. She leaned forward so they were face to face.

"I took your brothers down with just a touch." She said softly, holding up a hand in front of his face, "Unless you want to be my slave, just like U'darahje, you will tell me where my sons are."

He tried to flinch back a little, but Scar held him, forcing him to stay looking into her masked face. At that moment, there was a boom in the distance, the impact and the rumble filtering through the soft ash and the grey-coated trees – the noise of an explosion. Lex's head jerked up like a hunting hound that scents a quarry and Scar's did the same.

"The ridge!"

He thrust their captive towards Halkrath as Lex took off towards the sound, running and jumping headlong over fallen trees and patches of floating, red algae where the ground gave way to tiny pools. She knew Scar would follow, shadowing her, just as desperate to get to the boys as she was. As the ridge loomed above her, she skidded to a halt at the edge of a clearing, her brain flashing from one horrifying detail to another: the crater of scorched earth and two more D'AKv'Var ahead, facing away from her, firing wildly with their plasma guns, shooting at something higher up the cliff. A wave of pure fury hit her as she saw the boys hanging there; sitting targets. She threw herself towards their attackers, ripping the daggers from their sheaths. At the same moment, Scar burst from the treeline – swords already drawn. He dealt the nearest D'AKv'Var a slashing cut across the back. Both enemies wheeled towards the new threat, but Scar was unstoppable in his rage. He drove the second sword right up to the hilt in the wounded fighter's gut. As he wrenched the blade free, Lex stabbed the remaining D'AKv'Var in the back with her poisoned knife. He toppled forward, paralysed by the swift-acting venom. As one, they turned to look up at the cliff where Selim and Isaac hung perilously over a long drop. Her heart crashed against her ribs at the way Selim hung from Isaac's neck, streaks of blood down his back.

Isaac's head turned in their direction, "Mom?!"

His voice was high and thin and full of panic.

Lex, who had rearmed herself with a full compliment of weapons from the Fury's arsenal, pulled out a grapple line but Scar began leaping up the cliffside without waiting for her, needing nothing but yautja claws and upper body strength. She fired the grapple, making sure she did not hit the boys. The tiny hook shot skyward and over the top of the cliff. She tugged, tested the line and began to climb, hauling herself up hand over hand, using her tough boots to kick away from the rock. There was a cry from Isaac above and her head snapped upwards to see Scar had almost drawn level with the boys, but they were shuddering now, the rope above them quivering.

A cold shiver ran through Lex, her climber's instincts warning her something bad was about to happen. "Scar, get him!" She screamed.

She saw Isaac jerk, then Selim fell backwards, tumbling backwards into nothingness, arms flailing uselessly to find a hold in fresh air. Alongside them, Scar threw an arm out with sudden violence and seized the boy's wrist. Shoulders straining, he lifted their son up by the arm, pulling him against the cliff face so that he could get a better grip. Selim looped his other arm around his father's neck, his movements slow and blind. Lex felt the wash of dizzy fear and relief trying to overwhelm her but she pushed it aside. Something in her clicked onto automatic.

"Isaac!" She shouted, "I'm coming."

She pulled herself within reach of Isaac, who was almost hyperventilating, his skin grey with shock, "It's ok baby, just breathe." She told him.

"Selim!" He gasped.

"He'll be fine." She soothed, "I'll get you down."

She looped the rope around one fist and reached out for him, guiding his wrist to the line, not knowing if he was injured too. When he had a tight grip on her rope, she clipped the rope from her own grapnel onto his belt, before unfastening him from the other grapnel. They climbed down together. Beneath them, Scar had reached the foot of the cliff. Laying Selim down on the forest floor, he fell forward, leaning against the cliff wall, breathing hard.

"Oh my God!" As soon as her feet touched the floor, she grabbed Isaac in a hug and kissed him, feeling him grip her tightly, his silent relief perhaps as great as hers. Then she was kneeling at the side of Selim. Her son pushed himself shakily up on his elbows and she felt relief sharp enough to bring tears to her eyes that he was conscious and able to move.

"Where are you hurt, baby?" She gathered him up to her gently, kissing him too.

"It is nothing, Mei'Varsi," He went to put his arms around her but then checked, clearly in pain, "They only hit my shoulder – and my hand."

"Those motherfuckers!"

She touched him gently, inspecting his wounds. They were flesh wounds, the blood making them seem more dramatic than they were. Selim tried to brush her off with trembling hands, "Let me up Mei'Varsi – I can stand."

"The hell you can! You're still in shock." She said firmly, "Now sit quiet for a moment – I'll do what I can about your injuries."

Quickly, she dressed his wounds, applying pressure to the shoulder cut which was bleeding the most. She sterilised it, then closed it with the yautja sealant, feeling a stab of vicarious suffering as she did so, knowing it would be almost as painful as getting cut. He winced but did not cry out and she stroked his hand.

"You're both so brave and so clever," She said softly, "You managed to stay alive all on your own. That wasn't easy."

"Were there… more than these two D'AKv'Var chasing you?" Scar rumbled behind them.

Selim drew breath to answer but it was Isaac who spoke, looking very pale but still standing, wiping the blood off his visor "There were three of them." He said, "But we dropped a bomb on one of them."

"You killed D'AKv'Var?" Scar said, sharply.

"We killed two, Mei'Savir." Selim looked up at his Father, "Let me up, Mei'Varsi I can stand."

"Two?" Scar persisted, "How did you kill the other?"

"With the dah'kte, in the swamp." Selim rose stiffly to his feet, switching back to English, "Both of us. Did we not, Isaac?"

Scar looked from one son back to the other. Then he burst out laughing, the sound echoing hollowly inside his mask. "My ssonssss!"He said in English, "Your Mother is right, as she always is. You are both brave and clever – I should never have doubted you would triumph!"

Selim stepped towards him, ready to throw himself into his father's arms as he had done many times but Scar held up a hand to check him, taking a step back, "No closer, Mei'Sika. I – "

He stopped dead as Sek'Met stepped into the clearing, "…it is not fitting." He finished, drawing himself up, "You… you must learn to do without such childish reassurances."

Isaac gave asnort and turned away at this but Selim wilted, leaning heavily against her, 'I have to tell him,' She thought, 'Scar's afraid of infecting him. He doesn't want to touch him again, but he won't say so in front of her. When we're alone, we'll tell him.'

She put an arm round Selim's waist, hoping to comfort him.

"We … we must find Varrik and Rika," He said, and it hurt her to hear his voice quaver, then become level as he mastered himself, "They helped us and now the D'AKv'Var have them."

"Selim, we found them,"She said, "We killed the D'AKv'Var, but Rika and Varrik are injured."

He turned abruptly, "How bad are they?"

She shook her head, "Pretty bad."

At once he pulled himself upright, "We must go to them."

He tailed off as he turned and noticed Sek'Met for the first time. She stood tall and silent, a little distance away, appraising both him and Isaac. Lex couldn't see either her or her son's faces under their visors, but she felt Selim tense beside her. Meanwhile, Sek'Met looked unhurriedly from one twin to the other. Then her head turned back, as if magnetised, towards Scar.

"What is it?" He growled.

"U'darahje, you must see this." She said, "I have found the enemy's ship."

Soooo... back at work but finally the weekend has come again. We finally got to the bit I like, the gratuitous bloodshed. Fight scenes are fun to write - love the hacky/slashy bits. If you're enjoying the story then please follow, favourite and review - all the usual things.

Tenjp: I sometimes feel bad for the things I put the children through, they got through - this time. I imagine Scar's dad is dead, but he's much more influenced the women in his life, including his crazy mom. He's never even met his father.

LovyDovy7: Everyone is having a bad time but at least they're having a bad time together now (except Spyrro - poor girl!). Torture in a good way I hope. I do feel sorry for the poor babies, though :)

Miko Uchi Queen - Grandma is not going to be happy, we know this. I have tried to write Lex and Scar as a good partnership, even with the interspecies conflict I imagine would be realistic. I had a great easter thanks, hope you did too!

lexia the beautiful wolf: Hope this update is soon enough for you! :)