Alerts flashed across the console; panic lights flaring, alarms wailing, blurting out their distress as the ship jolted and shook. Spyrro stayed in the harness where they had strapped her, next to the GhaRan-S'i-Ka. She held herself very still, forcing herself ignore each new grinding shudder, concentrating on keeping her face blank.

'Do not be afraid.' She whispered to herself, 'Mei'Varsi would tell me not to be scared. Mei'Savir would laugh at this little bit of shaking. Do not be afraid.'

All around her, the female yautja bellowed at each other, fighting to bring the craft back under control. In the midst of it all, the GhaRan-S'i-Ka sat unmoving, barely even swaying. Repeated concussions quaked through the ship, but not a flicker of fear crossed her face. Spyrro curled into a ball as much as she was able, strapped up in the tight harness.

"Take us down." She croaked.

"The instruments are malfunctioning," One of the pilots said, "And our engines are failing."

"It may be some sort of electrical storm, we should pull up, my commander, or we will crash." Xal'Uate said – the closest Spyrro had ever seen to a rebellion from her.

"Take us down!" The clan leadersnarled, with a shake of her silvered plaits, "Whilst I have breath left in me, I will be obeyed."

"Yes, GhaRan-S'i-Ka."

Spyrro looked across at Ito who sat, strapped into a harness opposite her. The girl was watching her with steady, yellow eyes. Spyrro spread her jaws slightly. Ito gave a slow blink and then her own jaws twitched apart a little.

"You see Spyrro?" The GhaRan-S'i-Ka leaned down and fixed Spyrro with her sulphurous stare, "This is what leadership means: all must obey you, no matter what."

Spyrro nodded, "What about the storm, GhaRan-S'i-Ka?"

"Storm?" The clan leader laughed, "No storm can stop me from doing my will – especially not such a little bit of shaking."

"Why not?"

The GhaRan-S'i-Ka's jaws spread in an evil grin and for a moment Spyrro thought of Mei'Savir, "Because, my youngest one, the goddess guides my steps."

Spyrro's eyes went wide and the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them, "Mei'Savir's goddess? The Nameless One?"

Spyrro shut her mouth tight and pressed her fists against it, aware that she should not have mentioned her father, but the GhaRan-S'i-Ka did not explode with rage as she had expected. Instead, the clan leader stared at her for a few seconds, then turned back to the frantically busy cockpit.

"Get this ship down you lazy bitches!"

Scar and Sek'Met stood, surveying the D'AKv'Var shuttle. It lay two clicks to the south of the ridge, just as T'mogu'i had said, in the midst of another clearing. Through gaps in the canopy, flames could now be glimpsed, licking up through the inky darkness and this made Scar uneasy, 'Perhaps the flames are only more visible now because it is night,' He thought, 'I hope that is not a sign that the volcanic activity is about to recommence…'

The unconscious Varrik and the wounded Rika still lay in the clearing – a safe distance from any trap that might spring from this ship – with Lex, Halkrath and the twins standing guard. Scar's brows crinkled under his mask. Much as he hated to leave Lex and his sons even for a short time, they were running out of options, 'We need a craft if we are to escape the planet. Varrik and Rika are badly injured. Lex is still recovering; Selim is wounded, Isaac is exhausted and I am hardly in a better case…"

He closed his eyes under the mask as another shock of dizziness went shuddering through him, the aftermath of the nausea and weakness that had assailed him after the battle with the Flesh Eaters and the headlong flight to save the twins. Even here, at the edge of a volcanic plain he was cold and his lungs felt small and constricted despite the mask. He made himself ignore all of it and turned to Sek'Met. "Have you tried to open it yet?"

She shook her head, "I do not wish to be blown into the underworld."

Both of them knew that a yautja ship could be set to explode and obliterate any warrior unwise enough to try and open the doors with an un-synced gauntlet and no access code. He tightened his grip on the D'AKv'Var captive – the same one whose hand he had cut off. Scar had bound his arms and dragged him here from the clearing. Now, he took the gauntlet from around his prisoner's one remaining wrist. Seizing a handful of the D'AKv'Var's braids, he jerked his head backwards, "Give me the code."

The Flesh Eater snarled, "You filthy slave – "

"He cannot be trusted U'darahje," Sek'Met hissed, "Give him the dishonourable death he deserves."

Scar shook his head: they needed the ship. Even the snatched glance he had of Rika and Varrik back at the clearing had told him they would not make the journey back down the valley to the Chameleon or the Fury. He and Lex had discussed this in hushed conversation with Halkrath, back at the clearing. Now he thought it would not be a good idea to let their captive know how desperate their situation was.

"If you do not, I will give you back to my mistress." Scar snarled, "Maybe she will take you as a new slave and release me from this agony."

The D'AKv'Var's soot smeared face twisted into a rictus of disgust, his jaw curling up tight, "I would not be polluted by her touch – "

"Then tell me, or I swear you will be her slave in my place."

The Flesh Eater tried to jerk his head forward, but Scar thrust the gauntlet control panel in front of his face, "The code. Now."

Clumsily, the Flesh Eater punched the digits into the gauntlet control panel. The door to the shuttle slid open. Without another wasted second, Scar brought his swords slicing round. He watched the D'AKv'Var's skull bounce on the mossy floor, "He did not give others such a quick end, but we are in hurry…"

He looked up at the door that now shimmered in the heat haze that drifted across his vision and squinted, trying to focus on it, when he heard Sek'Met let out a long breath. Almost it was a sigh. He turned, to find her watching him.

"I see through you, S'Kia." She said and he noted that, for the first time, she called him by his real name, "I know the truth of you."

Scar snorted, but alarm crawled across his skin like swarming insects; what truth? Had she noticed that he was sickly? That he was feeling weaker by the moment?

"And what is that?" He snorted, with feigned amusement.

She took a moment before answering, "You pretend," She said, "But you are not truly her slave."

"Of course not."

He kept his tone curt and dismissive, wanting to avoid an intimate conversation, but she took a small step closer. It was not close enough to be a challenge or a proposition, but her proximity heightened his awareness of other things that he did not want her to notice; the tightness in his lungs, the sweat rolling down his back, the nausea shivering through him every time he stopped moving long enough to notice.

Sek'Met was still looking at him, "You pretend that she is your mistress," She said, in a quiet voice, "But why would you counterfeit such weakness? Is it for the soft meat's sake – or yours?"

She half lifted a hand, as if to touch him. In his vision her long-taloned fingers blurred in and out of focus, the confusing visuals of her mottled skin warping and twisting. Through the waves of dizziness, Scar fought to think clearly. He did not wish to alienate her, but with the way he was feeling right now he did not wish to show her his weakness either.

"Sek'Met," He said, "I owe you my life, and we have pledged to be allies, but if you refer to Lex by those insulting words again, then you and I will have … a problem."

At once, she stepped back, her head lowered but only fractionally, "J'Kui." {I acknowledge}

He nodded and sheathed his swordsand they stepped up to the hatch, both of them extending their dah'kte, ready for combat at close quarters: ready for a trap. No lights blinked on as they moved down the central corridor towards the cockpit.

"They must have other ships, elsewhere on the planet," She hissed as they advanced.

"Undoubtedly," Scar felt a fresh wave of cold sweat bathe him, digging his talons into his palms to keep himself focused.

The door slid open to reveal the cockpit, a disorderly hole, strewn with bones, pieces of armour and weapons and scraps of what looked like meat lying dry and discarded wherever they had been flung down. Scar growled softly. The ship was not big enough on its own to support all of their respiratory needs in the void of space but… it might serve to transport them back to the other ships, if the engines functioned long enough in the ash laden atmosphere.

"Such mess!" Sek'Met gazed around with a snort.

Scar nodded absently, "Perhaps, but we do not have time clear out all of this rubbish…"

Cold sweat was still forming on him like dew, even being inside this ship made it harder to breath, 'I feel hotter with each passing moment!'

"Come," Sek'Met drew closer to him, "We should search the rest of the vessel."

He nodded quickly, eager for a few moments away from her scrutiny, "You take the living quarters. I will go down to the hold."

Pulling open the service hatch, he climbed down into the cargo deck. This ship was not much smaller than the Chameleon but the cargo area was never a huge space on such crafts, built as they were for speed and maneuverability. Nevertheless, it was still a good place to launch an ambush. Keeping his eyes trained on the space behind him, Scar slid down the ladder, landing without a sound. The darkened hold felt devoid of any living thing, but it was filled with… something.

Scar moved closer. A stack of solid, rectangular objects glinted in the weak light from above him, some sort of freight, wedged and packed into the too-tight space. When he had checked all around to make sure there were no corners where enemies could lurk, he turned his attention to the containers. Putting out a hand to touch one of them, his brows twisted at the cold of the metal surface. For a moment it flashed into his mind to take off his mask and lay his forehead against the cool metal, but he dismissed the impulse, 'We are short enough on time and dealing with enough wounded, without my giving in to such weakness.'

He touched the controls of the nearest one with one tap of a talon and the cube slid open, wisps of cooler air curling upwards as it did so. It was filled with glass phials, containing some kind of bluish liquid that seemed to glow a little in this heavy, hot darkness. Scar did not touch them, but he tapped the control panel again. The digital display lit up with red, yautja writing. The characters were Rough Skull hieroglyphs, but some of the words he could not understand. The first part of the display said: "Wildfire Contagion" and he thought perhaps this might refer to the illness cutting through his clan like an uncontained outbreak of the hard meat. The next words read: "Neutralising Monoclonal Antibody."

Scar knew the first word had a meaning akin to defeating or even nullifying something and he understood that an antibody was a substance the body's immune system used to combat infection, but the middle word he did not know. He picked up one of the phials, but the Rough Skulls lettering on it was just the same. Through the pain thudding a jarring drumbeat inside his skull, he remembered the desperate message from the male onboard Void Cutter, 'He said the shipment of antivirus was hi-jacked just off Belua…. which is in this sector. If by some lucky stroke of fortune we have found that same shipment, maybe this is a cure that can help me stay alive. Grant me that long, bitch goddess; at least, long enough to get us off this accursed planet…"

Still gripping the phial, he scaled rapidly back up the ladder and came face to face with Sek'Met who was seemingly on her way to find him.

"Is the upper floor clear?"

"Yes," She said, "But what is going on, S'Kia? Where are you – "

"We must fetch the others." He was already striding to the airlock, with her in pursuit, "It is imperative that we start getting everyone on board – and I must speak with Halkrath."

"But what have you found?" She demanded.

He halted so suddenly that she almost piled into him, "Were you part of the contingent that delivered the shipment of antivirus to the male emissaries?"

At once, she shook her head, "No. The GhaRan-S'i-Ka ordered me to bring you into her presence."

He held the softly glowing phial out to her, "Then you do not know if this is a sample from that shipment, perhaps stolen by the D'AKv'Var?"

She tossed her tight braids, "How could I? After that, it was my task to bring you to To'Phet and that is where I was until we came here, the same as you. But we have no need of the antivirus."

He turned for the airlock again, "Then we will need the scientist."

"U'darahje," She was still on his heels, "Why does it matter?"

He turned for a moment, his voice dropping to a growl, clutching the glowing phial in one fist, "Because if I am right, then this is my way to make Nar'Jat crawl."

Lex looked down at the raw flesh on Varrik's chest and winced under her mask. Over the years she had seen splintered bones and extreme frostbite, acid burns and flayed off skin. The raw, stripped tissue was up there with the worst injuries she had ever encountered. Halkrath was trying to treat the damage, using the limited resources they had in their medikits. She watched him slather the horrifying burns in the same healing resin Scar had used on his acid wounds. On Varrik, he had to use so much that half the youngblood's face and chest were covered in the rough, black patches, almost like his skin was corrupted with patches of black mould, 'He's such a mess,' She grimaced, 'If he were human, he'd probably be dead already. I just hope the yautja resilience carries him through.'

Behind them, Selim said, "Will he be alright?"

Her eldest son was sitting on a fallen trunk, his back straight, his injured hand laid on his knee. Isaac stood beside him. In one hand, her youngest son held a scorched, blackened visor. For a second, she wondered if it belonged to Varrik or Rika, picked it up from the floor of the clearing, and she noticed the talons on his free hand twitching, talons flexing the same way Scar's did when he was angry or anxious about something.

Varrik lay unconscious. They had unbound his hands and feet but he had shown no signs of coming round whilst they treated his injuries. Another Rough Skull lay nearby, decapitated and dismembered, clearly dead. Lex did not recognise him but she shuddered at the thought of what he must have suffered here. She only hoped to God they had cut his head off before carving him up like a joint of meat. She kept half an ear on the conversation but all the time she was listening for sounds of attackers, scanning the forest for movement, her plasma gun in her hand.

"The healing resin we have applied should prevent infection," The scientist told him,

"But a large percentile of skin surface has been damaged."

Selim swallowed "Will he die?"

Halkrath gave a little shake of his plaits, shrugging, "It is a possibility. We have done what we can but such injuries require better supplies, and ideally a medipod and surgery. Even then, there may not be a positive outcome for him."

Lex nodded to herself at the cold, unfeeling tone in his voice. She recognised the yautja refusal to display emotion, even about the death of someone they had known for years. Selim held himself very still, "But Rika is not so bad?"

Halkrath turned his attention to the smaller male. Rika's wounds had also been coated in the healing resin but he, like Varrik, was still unconscious,

"Not so bad." The scientist nodded, There is a lower percentile of skin damage. His chances of survival are higher than Varrik's, certainly."

As the scientist turned away from them, Lex put a hand on Selim's uninjured shoulder, "It's ok."

"How can it be 'ok' Mei'Varsi?" He hissed, through gritted teeth, "When they are dying because of me?"

"It isn't your fault, Selim." She said, smoothing his brow, "You didn't cause any of this."

Isaac looked over, "Yeah Sel, it wasn't your idea to split our family and land us all in this fucked-up mess."

"Isaac, none of us could have foreseen we'd end up here, not you or me, or your father or Varrik or Rika," Lex said firmly, gripping Selim's shoulders, "But I promise we can help them, as long as we stay calm and stick together. We can't let ourselves fall apart right now."

Isaac snorted again, but before she could say anything more, there was movement in the dark undergrowth. She swung round, plasma gun at the ready to see Scar and Sek'Met returning.

"U'darahje wants you," She barked at Halkrath, "He has found something."

For a moment Lex wondered if the Rough Skull might flare up, but he merely nodded. Then she noticed that Scar was holding something that gave off a gentle, blueish glow, lighting up the hot darkness. For a second, she thought it was some kind of electrical light source. Then she looked closer and saw it was a phial, filled with some luminous substance. She went nearer "What the hell is that?"

"I believe it is an antivirus for the contagion – destined for the Void Cutter, but Halkrath," He said, turning to the older Rough Skull, "I need you to judge if my guess is correct."

Halkrath took the glowing tube and studied it, turning it over in his talons, "The markings here confirm it. And a monoclonal antibody is a novel solution – how did your scientists come to this?"

Sek'Met shrugged, "I am a warrior, not a scientist."

Scar flexed his talons impatiently, "Will it work?"

"I do not see why it would not," Halkrath mused, "But there may be side-effects."

"Such as what?"

"How would I know?" The scientist was still peering intently at the substance, tilting the tube one way and then the other, "I have not studied it – but I would certainly like to do so."

"I am sure, but we need to plan our next move," Lex interjected, looking over at Scar and Sek'Met, "Can we use the D'AKv'Var ship to get ourselves off this rock?"

"Not all of us," Scar said, arms folded, "It is too small. Life support would not have the capacity to sustain all eight of us for more than a few units."

"But that does not make sense," Selim said, "We have seen more than eight D'AKv'Var since we arrived."

Scar shook his braids, "Then there must be other D'AKv'Var craft hidden here, but we cannot spare time to look for them. The warrior we captured said reinforcements are coming."

"I think I… saw them," Isaac said, hesitantly, "When I was on the… cliff, two … ships landed… in the jungle."

"Then we need to get back to the Fury and the Chameleon," Lex said.

"I agree with the witch," Sek'Met nodded, "We left Jah'Di'Tou on the Fury, and I cannot abandon her."

"So, can we use the D'AKv'Var ship to do that?" Lex went on, allowing 'witch' to go unchallenged, "Surely life support would hold for a short journey?"

"It is a risk; firstly because the engines might fail in this ash-laden atmosphere and secondly because we would advertise the Chameleon's location to every hostile force in the vicinity," Halkrath clicked unhappily, "But I admit, I do not think Varrik and Rika could make the journey."

She glanced over at Scar. If it hadn't been for the blood and ash coated on his skin, she thought the others would surely have noticed his deteriorating condition. The few glimmers of his bare skin showed bone-white through the smears of black and grey and green, and she noticed now beads of sweat rolling down his arms and into the hollow of his throat, 'How long's it going to be before he's just as bad as Varrik and Rika?'

"Carrying them all that way would make us slow and vulnerable to attack," Scar waved a hand towards the unconscious Rough Skulls, "Is there nothing we can do for them?"

"I have some doses of a chemical stimulant which might allow Rika to regain consciousness, perhaps even to walk some of the distance, but he would collapse as soon as the drug wore off. Then he would likely be worse than before. And Varrik is too badly injured for the drug to affect him. Of course…" Halkrath tapped his talons against his mask, "We could just leave him."

"Never!"

Scar and Selim spoke the word together, Selim jumping to his feet. Scar put out a hand for a moment – as if to touch his son's shoulder – but then he jerked his hand back, folding his arms instead.

"The D'aRan-thwei forbids it." He ruled, "We will not leave either of them to die."

"So let us stop wasting time!" Lex spat, "Whatever the risks of giving away our position, any D'AKv'Var left alive already know where we are – we need to leave!"

There was a brief silence. Then Scar said, "Lex is right; we must get Varrik and Rika onto the ship and go."

"I will check the engines." Halkrath snorted, "Let us hope they are up to it, or we may yet find ourselves walking to the Chameleon."

Sek'Met nodded, "In the meantime, S'Kia and I can carry our clan brothers onboard."

Lex looked up sharply and saw Scar freeze. She knew he would not want to risk passing on the infection to either Varrik or Rika, but he clearly he could not think of a way to refuse without giving himself away, 'And in a little while we'll all be cooped up together on that ship, anyway…'

She moved closer, not touching him but close enough so that she could speak next to his ear, without the others hearing, "Just take them." She breathed in English, "Maybe we can give them and you the antivirus if we need to – but we have to get out of here."

He nodded, "Get our boys… onto the ship," He growled very low, "But do not tell them… about me. I would want them… distracted or to inadvertently... betray it."

"Scar, they wouldn't – " She was about to object when Sek'Met appeared beside them, hoisting Rika onto her shoulder.

"U'darahje, I saw a medipod in the back of that shuttle."

"Good." He went to where Varrik lay, still and unmoving as death, and lifted him up. The youngblood captain seemed utterly lifeless, his head lolling backwards against Scar's arm. He made to follow Sek'Met, but then stopped and turned back to Lex, "See that they keep… their masks on, and I will do likewise."He said, speaking in English so the others would not understand.

She thought only she could have heard the tremor in his voice, the rattle in his chest, "I need them to live. I need you… all to live."

Isaac's hands curled into fists as he watched his father and the yautja female walk back towards the enemy ship together. In one hand he still held the scorched visor. Seeing his Mother and S'Kia with their heads so close together, seeing the way she leaned towards him, Isaac's fingers clenched so tight the metal visor cut into his palm, 'Back on Earth, they were hardly speaking to each other but now, it's like they're suddenly friends again… or maybe… no… no, she couldn't!'

"Come on," His Mother said, "We don't want to get caught out in the open."

Isaac followed after her and Selim, his guts churning with a sickening mixture of rage, resentment and dread, 'She can't have forgiven him, can she? Not after everything he's done?'

They reached the clearing where the ship sat, a sleek, metal raptor amongst the ash-grey vegetation. It was smaller than the Chameleon, but it looked built for speed – a ship designed for preying upon other craft; a pirate's vessel.

His Mother paused at the airlock, "I want you to keep your masks on, even when we're on board," She said, "We don't know if the D'AKv'Var carry the contagion, but I don't want to take any chances."

"Mei'Varsi," Selim said, stepping inside, "Who is the female that came here with you?"

"Her name is Sek'Met - she's from the Vortex, the female ship."

She led the way into the cockpit and all three of them stopped dead, staring around them at the chaotic squalor; the mess and debris all over the floor, even smears of what looked like old blood up the wall. Lex broke the shocked silence "Damn, this place is a real dump!"

There was no sign of the others. Isaac assumed Halkrath was busy in the hold and S'Kia and Sek'Met he guessed were busy securing Varrik and Rika, ready for take-off.

"So, is this yautja female a friend of S'Kia's?" Isaac asked, his tone sullen.

He couldn't see his Mother's face, but she stiffened for a moment, "Not… exactly." She said, "We made an alliance with her. She is a Rough Skull, like us, but we've got more important things to worry about right now. Why don't you two go and help Halkrath with the engines? I've gotta have a look at all our systems, check what kind of shape we're in."

She patted Selim's arm, turned and bent to look at the console. Selim obediently went off in the direction of the hold but Isaac did not move a muscle. He stayed right where he was, as if his feet had been welded to the deck. After a few moments his mother must have realised he was still there, because she straightened and turned back to him, "Isaac, what is it?"

"So, how come we're Rough Skulls now?" He demanded, through gritted teeth, "I thought you were both expelled from the clan because of your… abominable offspring?"

"Who told you that?"

"S'Kia." He folded his arms, "Is it true?"

She looked away for a few beats before answering, "Sort of." She admitted, "But it's not the whole story. Look Isaac, we can talk about all this when we're back on the Chameleon and safe, away from here."

Isaac didn't answer. He loved his mother and he didn't want to upset her, but his insides were still roiling like a vat of acid mixed with bile, 'The way they were whispering to each other… like they're close again… but it can't mean… she won't… surely she wouldn't give that motherfucker another chance!'

She was looking at him, "What is it, Isaac? Is something wrong?"

He looked at her for a moment, trying to read her, but he couldn't see what was going on behind that blank, metal mask.

"No," He said, casting his eyes down to the floor, "Really, it's nothing, Mom."

"Ok," She paused, continuing to look at him, "All this has been really hard on you, Selim and Spyrro." She said, "I'm really sorry I couldn't protect you from it."

A lump swelled inside his throat, his eyes suddenly wet under the mask. Isaac coughed, not able to trust his voice, "Mom, it wasn't your fault."

She looked away again and he drew in deep breath, willing the tears to stop, "Look, I'm gonna go see if Halkrath needs my help dealing with the engines."

She nodded, "I'm sure he could use it."

He went past her, through the door that led to the back of the ship, where he assumed the hold must be. Isaac heard the soft hiss of the cockpit door closing behind him. He marched to the ladder that led to the hold, grinding his teeth like one demented, the talons on his free hand clenching and unclenching. Then, he hurled the blackened mask at the wall as hard as he could.

So my updates have been getting a bit farther apart of late, as work intensity is increasing so I don't have so much time to write. Anyway, here's the latest instalment. If you are reading and enjoying please hit the follow and favourite button and review. I love a review, especially when work is this intense!

Guest: Yup, they're back together - one big, dysfunctional family!

LovyDovy7: Glad you enjoyed it - I love writing a fight scene! Yeah, poor Spyrro has missed out on this family reunion but she's en route. As for the boys and Sek'Met, they're still scoping each other out - with a lot of curiosity and mutual resentment on both sides. I'm not sure about setting traps for her, but both boys have reasons to be disturbed by her presence - they've never seen a yautja female for a start, so it's all a bit troubling. Plus they're in the dark about what's really going on in more ways than one.

Miko Uchi Queen - Thanks so much for sharing your artwork - you're obviously really talented! I'm sorry I'm not very good with Instagram! Yeah, poor Lex, nobody likes to see their babies suffer, but also to not be able to comfort them is horrible. Scar and Isaac already had issues right from the start. This hasn't helped them and they don't look like getting resolved anytime soon. Rika, though, is still alive. If he can survive the Shapeshifter he can survive anything!

Lexia the beautiful wolf - Glad you enjoyed it but... Scar's going to get worse before he gets better.