Spyrro's stomach flipped inside her as the female ship plunged towards the surface. On the screen, layers of clouds loomed and then tore like veils of flimsy cobweb, ripped apart by the plummeting craft. She made herself sit upright, conquering the fear second by second as each new convulsion shook the deck.

Next to her, she heard the GhaRan-S'i-Ka chuckle, "There is nothing to fear my youngest one, the Nameless Goddess will not allow you to perish."

"Yes GhaRan-S'i-Ka," she said, automatically.

Her treacherous mind began replaying all the things Mei'Savir had said about the goddess, 'She does not listen to prayers Spyrro, she does not do what you want, except when it amuses her!'

Spyrro shook her head, 'That does not make me feel better at all.'

Somehow, it was easier to go along with what the clan leader wanted for now. If she concentrated on obeying, she didn't have to think about crashing, 'The Goddess will protect me,' She thought 'The GhaRan-S'i-Ka worships her – and Mei'Savir worships her, so she must have protected him and Mei'Varsi. Look at all the things they have survived!'

As she thought this, the shuttle made another plunging dip and the shaking intensified, as if the ship was being struck with many projectiles. It careered forward, a prisoner to its own momentum for only a few instants before it pulled up again sharply, a thunderous roar from the thrusters deafening them all. The momentum jerked Spyrro forward, the straps cutting painfully into her shoulders, ending in a bludgeoning crunch. Then all was still.

The yautja in the cockpit raised themselves slowly from their crash positions, some of them straightening up from where they had hunched over, arms locked around their heads or torsos to prevent injury. Only the GhaRan-S'i-Ka had remained upright, sitting straight and grim. At the sudden silence, she looked around her – first to one side and then the other, jaws spreading slightly to see Spyrro had not been cowering in a ball like the others.

"You did well, Spyrro." The clan leader unstrapped herself and rose to her feet, "I will make a leader of you yet."

"GhaRan-S'i-Ka, we should be wary." The navigator spoke up from her seat at the console, "Before our sensory systems failed, I detected another ship, making planetfall at the same time as this one. I am certain that they landed somewhere in this sector. Unless they crashed and perished, they must be nearby and they will be aware of us – just as we are of them."

The GhaRan-S'i-Ka growled and then turned to address the rest of the cockpit, "Arm yourselves. If they wish for a fight, we will show the filth what happens to those who trespass on my territory!"

Scar finished hooking Varrik up to the medipod. The effort of carrying the younger male inside had left him almost gasping for breath, leaning against the wall, but now his breathing had returned almost to normal. He slid the needles into Varrik's skin; attaching the sensor pads to his pulse points; fitting the oxygen mask but always keeping his own mask in place, hoping it might give Varrik some protection from the deadly virus he must be carrying.

In the meantime, the youngblood's eyes were closed and his breathing shallow. His skin was beaded with sweat, but Scar could not tell if he was running a fever. His own skin burned with febrile heat, shining with perspiration. He drew back and touched the controls of the medipod, setting it to assess the damage to Varrik and then heard the door open behind him. Sek'Met stepped into the room, "The smaller one is secured in the living quarters." She said, "He is still unconscious, but he will recover."

Scar grimaced to himself, "I am not sure if the same can be said of Varrik."

She turned her attention to the unconscious male, "Will he live?"

"I hope so." Scar's talons tapped the control pad, instructing the medipad to administer a mixture of painkillers and anti-infection agents.

"Why?" She titled her head, "Is he some affinity of yours?"

Scar nodded: not long ago he would have slaughtered Varrik for betraying him. 'It would have given me some regret to slay one whose life I saved, whom I knew as a child. I would have mourned to do it, yet I would have done it. But set beside the selfless act of saving my sons, his betrayal matters not at all; Varrik must live!'

"I am indebted to him," He said, touching the pad to initiate the programme, "Now, you go and stand guard. Without camouflage or sensory equipment, we are blind and vulnerable. I need you to make sure the D'AKv'Var do not launch an attack before we can take off."

She nodded, "What about you?"

"I will speak with Halkrath, then I will come on watch with you."

He went to check on Rika first. His friend was strapped down on one of the bunks, chest rising and falling steadily. Scar looked at him for a moment, lifted a hand towards him but then checked himself immediately. A catch in his throat and suddenly his chest felt tight as if steel bands has snapped closed around it. He hunched his shoulders, doubling up as he struggled to breathe; to not give in to a fit of coughing that was trying to fight its way up his throat. He gripped the doorframe, holding himself upright until the fit and the dizziness passed. After a few minutes the swaying and the spasming in his chest faded back to the low-level pain that had been there before.

Scar straightened up and went in search of Halkrath. Caution was prompting him to go and stand guard outside the ship, but there was something he had to find out first. He climbed the slender ladder down into the hold, "Halkrath?"

As he had expected, the scientist's visor emerged from the pit around the ship's righthand engine. To his dismay, Selim and Isaac's heads appeared over the lip of the lefthand engine well, "I need to speak to Halkrath." Scar said.

Neither boy moved.

"Alone." He added.

Reluctantly, they both climbed out of the well and went past him, climbing up the ladder. Through the feverish heat haze, Scar sensed both his sons were unhappy with him but he could not make himself think why, nor could he imagine how he might appease them. He shut his eyes and felt the anxiety pouring off Selim… and the rage broadcasting from Isaac like radio waves, 'I have to speak to them both, but not now… not in front of Halkrath…'

He took a deep breath, determined to stay upright.

"S'Kia?"

Halkrath had not moved, was watching him.

"The stimulant," Scar said, "Do you have it?"

"I carry it with me."

The scientist pulled himself up onto the side of the engine pit and rose to his feet, but did not make a move to produce the drug. Scar stiffened his spine, drawing himself up to his full, intimidating height, hoping it would hide the shiver he felt in all his limbs, "Give it to me."

Slowly, unnecessarily slowly it seemed, Halkrath pulled out his medikit. He extracted two silver dartneedles, which he held up before Scar's , Scar extended his hand but Halkrath stayed where he was.

"S'Kia," He said carefully, "The stimulant causes only a short period of great energy and activity – almost like mania – but it is followed by terrible debilitation. Rika would not benefit but for a short time, probably not long enough to reach the ship … and it would likely kill Varrik. He is too weakened to withstand it."

"Give me one dose." Scar flexed his fingers "If we are attacked, we will need Rika to wake up."

Halkrath hesitated for only a second but he obeyed, placing one of the dartneedles in Scar's outstretched palm.

"Another thing I would know," Scar said, "The anti-virus; how is it administered?"

The scientist put his head on one side, "What does that have to do with – "

"Just tell me."

"I have seen the shipment." Halkrath said, slowly, "According to the control pad, it is given by injection, directly into a main blood vessel."

Scar nodded, "And will it work?"

"I believe so, but there may be some nausea, dizziness, confusion."

"Confusion?!"

"Yes. Perhaps hallucinations also and even periods of … unconsciousness."

At the scientist's words, Scar felt a surge of despair, 'That is no good to me!' He thought, "I hoped this antivirus might be the answer to our problems, but how can I guard my sons and Lex if I am delirious or unconscious?'

He closed his eyes beneath the mask, the gritty sting of exhaustion prickling behind his eyelids. For one drunken moment, he felt himself about to sway but with an effort of terrible will, he got himself back under control. When he opened his eyes, Halkrath was watching him, "Why do you ask this, my brother? Is there something you would tell me?"

Scar's pulse thudded in his ears so loud, he was sure the scientist must be able to hear it. For a moment he toyed with the idea of telling Halkrath the truth, but some bone-deep instinct recoiled at the idea of revealing vulnerability to another male, even a fellow Rough Skull; even in this dire situation.

"You helped Selim and Isaac," He growled, "And for this you are all outcast from the clan."

"That was our choice." Halkrath said, "We - I - wanted to protect them."

"Lex and I are grateful." Scar spoke through clenched jaws "And this shipment gives us power; over the clan; over Nar'Jat. Do you understand?"

Halkrath dipped his head, "Perfectly, S'Kia."

"That is good, Mei'hswei." Scar nodded, "Between clan brothers there should always be perfect understanding."

At the top of the ladder leading to the hold, Selim crouched frozen, Isaac rooted in place next to him. From this vantage point, Selim could catch the echo of Mei'Savir's voice bouncing up to them, straining his ears for Halkrath's quiet replies. Neither of them dared move, until they heard Scar lay his talons on the ladder. Heart stuttering, Selim whisked out of sight behind the housing of a turbine coil and Isaac followed. They both stayed flattened against the wall, panting, waiting until his footsteps disappeared in the direction of the outer hatch.

The two brothers looked at each other, "Mei'Savir is planning to use the antivirus to make some kind of bargain with the clan?" Selim said.

"Yeah, I heard that part." Isaac said.

"But why is he asking about the side effects if it is only a bargaining tool?" Selim said, half to himself, "And what does he want with the stimulant? Surely Rika is in no state to – "

"Sain'Ja feel no pity!" Isaac growled in his exaggeratedly angry Scar-voice, "You know what he's like Sel; he doesn't do sympathy. He just expects everyone else to suck it up - injured or not."

"But it does not make sense. What about Varrik? He would not just leave him to die."

Isaac folded his arms, "Oh, wouldn't he?"

"No!" Selim said, "He said so. And anyway, I do not understand why he does not wish us to know about this – why all this secrecy?"

"Because in the past he's always been so open about everything?" Isaac said, his voice now laden with sarcasm, "This family is all tangled up in secrets and lies, Sel, and he never tells us the whole story. How much did we ever get told about all this stuff with the clan? Nothing! Until it came back to bite us all in the ass!"

Isaac talked on, but Selim hardly heard him. He was thinking furiously, 'Why would Mei'Savir not trust Halkrath with the stimulant? And why would he be so interested in the antivirus when we've got much bigger problems to worry about? Unless he is thinking one of us is going to get sick … or maybe…"

Selim felt a chill run over his skin and shook himself. He tuned back in and realised Isaac was still in the middle of an angry tirade " – one minute, he and Mom are hardly speaking and now suddenly they're whispering to each other, all cosy. It's like he's managed to win her round somehow! How could she, when …"

Isaac trailed off, "Hey, what's eating you Selim? I thought you'd be pleased?"

Selim looked at him for a few moments before replying, "Isaac," He said quietly, "What if Mei'Savir has the contagion?"

Isaac cocked his head "Talk sense, Sel. He's hardly been around other yautja."

"But he has had contact," Selim persisted, "Why else would he ask about the antivirus when we are all in mortal danger?"

"Err, because he's a control freak?" Isaac tapped the temple of his mask with one talon, the universal symbol for mental instability.

"But what if – "

"Sel, we need to get the engines running," Isaac had already started down the ladder, "Are you coming or not?"

Lex stood at the console, trying to ignore the pain boring into her frontal lobes. They were all gathered in the cockpit. Scar standing quiet and solemn a little distance behind the two boys, who were coiled as tense as springs. Sek'Met lounged in the co-pilot seat nearest to the weapon controls.

Lex tapped her fingers on her arm, watching Scar from the concealment of the mask, 'He looks even paler than before. As soon as we get clear of this place we must try this cure, no matter what the side effects.'

"Myself and the juveniles have managed to clear the ship's engines and get them back into some sort of working order," Halkrath said, "I have adjusted them to burn hotter, just as I have already done for the engines of the Chameleon. That should vaporise some of the particulates but it will not last in this atmosphere."

"How long will it stay airborne before the ash clogs it up again?" She asked.

"A unit or two, no more." Halkrath said, "I am not able to be exact about it."

"So, we cannot afford to trawl the jungle," She said, "We need to get to the Chameleon as soon as possible."

"You and I can navigate. Lex can fly." Scar rumbled, "She is the superior pilot. Selim, Sek'Met and Isaac can operate weapons. Without our sensors, we will need many eyes to keep watch for enemies."

"How will you be able to see where you are going?" Halkrath turned towards Lex, "You have not yautja night vision."

Lex had expected Halkrath to object to the suggestion that she fly the ship, she was ready, "Because we had to land the Fury next to some kind of rocky plain." She said, "There seemed to be geothermal activity going on there – so it should be visible even in the dark."

"Not exactly an ideal landing site." Halkrath observed.

"Not as if we had a choice, since the engines were about to fail," She told him, with a glance at Sek'Met and Scar who was nodding, "The only other alternative was to crash. I do not think the Fury will fly again unless we clear them out."

"More work and more delay," The scientist sighed, "In any case, we are nearly prepared for take-off, but we should all wear our turbulence harnesses to mitigate against engine failure. I cannot guarantee the engines will not clog up again."

He turned back to the console and Lex buckled herself into the pilot seat, bringing up the display that showed the ship's surroundings and gnawing her lower lip. The guidance and mapping systems were not responding, so they would have to fly the ship using visual only.

"The valley where we landed the Chameleon lies several clicks to the south west." Halkrath said, "We will monitor the display to see if we can pinpoint its exact location."

A quick glance behind her confirmed that the others had all fastened themselves securely into a seat.

"Kill the lights," She said, "I will not be able to see outside otherwise."

Halkrath put a talon on the controls and the lights in the cockpit died. She put her hands on the steering column and flipped the switch to initiate the turbines, the power level on the gauge leaping eagerly upwards, "When you see it Halkrath, just say the word. It is going to be tricky in the dark."

He dipped his head once and she pushed the column forward, the throbbing purr rising to deafening pitch as the craft lifted smoothly off the forest floor. The gale of the ship's downdraft blew clouds of dust and ash up into the air, filling the night with grey and white billows.

Halkrath gave a little growl, "This is not going to be beneficial for the engines."

"No help for it," Lex hit the control to increase power to the thrusters, accelerating the ship's ascent, "Maybe if we get above the canopy fast enough – "

The engines groaned and she touched the control again, pushing the thrusters up to full power. The ship shuddered, but rose faster, pushing itself reluctantly into the black sky.

Halkrath's claws gripped the arms of the co-pilot's seat, "The hotter the engines burn, the more visible we are from the ground."

She did not ease off "I thought you said we are visible from the ground whatever we do?"

"Yes, but – "

"Then let us get where we are going!"

Lex set her jaw and steered the column towards the sector he had indicated before take-off. Piloting an unfamiliar craft in the dark without any navigation sensors was like driving a car at night without any headlights; terrifying. Every moment she worried the engines would stutter and die, or that they might crash into another ship, 'Flying blind, feels just like the rest of my life right now.'

Lex resisted the urge to say it out loud, not wanting to worry Isaac and Selim. She couldn't see them in the lightless cockpit but she knew they would be listening.

Forearms braced, bones shaking, she held the ship steady as they glided over the forest. She wanted to gain more altitude to get away from the dust and ashes, but at the same time she knew they could not climb too high, or they would not be able to find the Fury. Ahead of them, orange tongues of flame flickered in the hot, thick darkness.

"We landed on the north-western edge." Scar said, next to her in the darkness. He raised a talon to where fire licked up, tongues of bright orange against into the night sky.

"I see it." She gritted her teeth, pushing the ship on, towards the flames.

Spyrro stepped off the ship, into the ghostly, grey jungle, 'I do not like it here,' She thought, 'Why does this place look dead?'

The GhaRan-S'i-Ka stood beside her, holding a long spear. As Spyrro watched, she

twisted the handle, and long, wicked blades shot out of each end like the sting of a deadly insect, "You must keep your wits about you, my namesake."

Spyrro nodded and unsheathed the blades on her wrists as she and the GhaRan-S'i-Ka moved forward into the forest. Xal'Uate prowled ahead of them, her own spear at the ready and Ito padded on Spyrro's other side, noiseless as a cat. She was also wearing a set of dah'kte: clearly, the GhaRan-S'i-Ka wanted them to make themselves useful and was not worried about giving them blades, 'She is probably right,' Spyrro thought, 'I do not think I could outrun a sivk'va-tai.'

The rest of the female yautja moved around them in a loose formation, faces hidden by their scowling metal visors. Spyrro wore a mask herself; Xala had thrust a ship issue juvenile mask in her direction and barked at her to put it on. The floor of the jungle was covered in soft, grey dust that stained their feet. Looking up, she saw grey flakes falling.

'It is just as the snow on the ooman planet, when I went to visit Hobbes with Mei'Varsi,' Spyrro's fists clenched at the memory, 'I was so disrespectful to her – and I caused all this trouble by running away. Maybe if I had not done that, the clan would not have found us and I would not be here!'

She swallowed down the tight feeling in her throat and chewed the inside of her mouth, 'But since I am here, I must do as Mei'Savir and Mei'Varsi and Xal'Uate have taught me.'

The Rough Skulls fanned out, blending with the jungle as they moved. Spyrro followed Xal'Uate, keeping a watchful eye on the shadows of the pale forest. She had been in many jungles, on many alien worlds, but this one filled her with a nauseous unease. The white, ghost-trees; the thick, drifting vapor; the gently spiralling grey flakes; worst of all the quiet, smothering everything like a blanket. It was not the peaceful silence of the snow on the ooman planet, but a silence as if the jungle were holding its breath. The air was hot and dead, yet there was something that nagged at her; a stillness where there should have been the bickering of beasts and insects.

"GhaRan-S'i-Ka!" She hissed.

Wordlessly, the clan leader held up a hand. Spyrro tensed, her dah'kte raised, ready. Xal'Uate and the other visible females had halted, the mist in the air coiling around them like warriors petrified by an evil spell. In slow motion, the GhaRan-S'i-Ka brought the spear up. Spyrro saw Ito raise her dah'kte at the same moment.

With a horrible cry the jungle exploded. Shapes leapt on them from every side, grey and white and black, bursting out of the mist. Spyrro guessed they were yautja but she could not see more than that because everything went crazy; the Rough Skulls around her sprang at their attackers, but she could barely tell what was happening. She saw Xal'Uate's plasma cannon swivel and fail, the D'Tai N'as wrenching the gun from her shoulder and firing manually, lighting up the swirling fog with bursts of blue-white light.

As she watched this chaos unfold, an enemy loomed up suddenly in front of her. Spyrro leapt back and swung her dah'kte. They scored a thin green track line down his arm, but he seemed not even to notice, lunging for her. Spyrro skipped still further back, pulse battering a maddened war beat in her chest.

Hey all, sorry it's been a longer wait again. At the moment work is really hectic, so it just takes me longer to write chapters and get them how I want them. I'm just holding on by my talons for the summer break now! It's so frustrating when I have the story all planned out in my head but no time to write it down. Anyway, plus ca change.

Miko Uchi Queen - Yes Spyrro definitely misses her Mom now. As a parent myself I find this a little heart wrenching to write, as it makes me imagine my baby being separated from me, unbearable! Poor old Varrik and Rika, they haven't had much luck, have they?

LovyDovy7 - Scar might have some way to go before he and Isaac can make things up. He would try if he could, but he's not in the best shape right now and Isaac doesn't get that. In his eyes Scar is an all-powerful bully (just like he's a hero-figure for Selim).

Guest (Tenjp, is that you?) - I dunno, Scar won't take the cure, so he's going to get worse.

Lilspooky221 - Glad you like it but there's going to be heartache before those things happen.

Connor02 - Hey thanks! He's got to take the cure to get better and right now he won't.