FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter Six

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It had taken several days of constant thrust from the fission-powered ion engine for the Valentina Tereshkova to reach the Lagrange point out behind the Moon where the huge alien vessel waited for them. Days spent practicing for combat in a zero-g environment; days spent checking, rechecking, then checking again for good measure all their weapons and other equipment; days spent getting to know each other better in the close confines of the Russian vessel. In one case getting to know each other intimately and, in the other, getting up everyone else's nose in the most obnoxious way possible.

Flipping the Valentina Tereshkova on its axis when they rounded the Moon, Colonel Putin pushed the ion engine to maximum output to bring the vessel to a graceful halt while still several hundred kilometers distant from the massive Vanguard battleship. Due to the radioactive nature of the engine's exhaust, it had been decided to close the final distance between the two vessels on conventional maneuvring thrusters alone; coming in hot while spewing radiation toward the potentially dangerous aliens had been frowned upon by the powers-that-be.

"Sir, do we even know what these - what didja call 'em? - look like?" The Fish held his assault-rifle close to his body, beads of nervous sweat clinging to his face as he flicked his eyes rapidly between his commanding officer and the hatch.

"Vanguard, and we have no idea what we'll be facing in there. Just chill, marine. No sudden moves, but keep your eyes peeled and fingers on the trigger. Strictly no shooting unless I give the order... or unless all hell breaks loose. Goes for you too, Oh-Man," Commander Hardy spoke softly, not taking his eyes off the airlock while the pressure inside slowly equalized.

"Expect the fuckin' unexpected, right Sir?"

"Stow it, marine," came the growled response.

Terry swapped a nervous grin with Antonio while they waited for the airlock to cycle. The only clue the aliens had given them about their appearance was their size. After studying the schematics that had been transmitted to them, the Vanguard leader had suggested the first meeting of the two species should take place on their ship after expressing doubts about being able to fit through the tight-fitting (even by human standards) airlocks on the human vessel. And by 'suggested' it was made abundantly clear there would be no argument or discussion about the matter.

Irenei turned to Petter Nilsen and the marines after opening the airlock hatch once the green access light had come on. "Avoid touching the sides of the airlock hatch. The metal is likely to be very cold and will burn your skin. I will stay here and keep home on fire burning... Nyet, h_ome fires burning!_ Da, better. Go now." He stood aside to allow Petter and the marines through but stopped Vasya before he could follow, switching to Russian and speaking quickly. "I don't think these Vanguard creatures have come all this way to make trouble. But you still need to be extremely cautious. Any sign of danger - no matter what - get back here with Nilsen and let Uncle Sam handle the crisis. Make me proud, comrade."

Vasya found himself falling when he passed over the airlock threshold into the alien vessel. Unprepared for the unnaturally abrupt return of gravity, he was about to hit the deck with his face when someone grabbed hold of his flailing arm. Glancing up with a grateful smile he locked eyes with Antonio who pulled him to his feet with a grunt.

"There you go, comrade," Antonio said while winking at him.

Glancing around the alien airlock Vasya realized it was a fair sized space that was almost twice the size of the entire command module of the Valentina Tereshkova. It seemed that these Vanguard possessed some type of artificial gravity technology. 'Oh, they are going to be excited about this back home,' he thought to himself; this was technology way beyond anything they had on Earth.

Commander Hardy and Terry were crouched beside a closed hatch leading further into the alien vessel with their weapons ready. Petter Nilsen, the NATO mission specialist, was looking around the mostly featureless room somewhat nervously.

After rechecking his assault rifle, Antonio turned to Petter and gave the NATO man a reassuring smile. "Are you ready for the moment of a lifetime, Mr. Nilsen?"

"Ja, I'm just glad to be somewhere that has gravity again." Petter smiled weakly back at the marine.

With a grinding noise, the large, internal hatch began to move outward then to one side on some hefty looking rails. For a few moments they all thought they were looking at a bulky gray statue standing motionless in the exposed corridor beyond. But when the monstrous thing suddenly came to life, swiftly stepping backward while making deep hissing and rumbling noises at them they realized this was it - their first encounter with an intelligent, alien species. The creature's guttural noises were shortly replaced by an obviously artificial voice speaking to them in English.

"Lower your weapons immediately; they will not be required here. Come, follow this one."

It was several moments before anyone moved to follow the grunted instructions. They were too busy gawping at the large alien who stared back at them through four featureless black eyes. Standing almost three meters high, the alien superficially resembled some sort of muscular, two-legged, demonic appearing anthropomorphic dinosaur with finely scaled grey skin, but it was there that the similarities to anything remotely Earth-like ended.

"You may take the opportunity to stare at this one at a later time and location. You will follow immediately in this direction," the monotonal artificial voice betrayed no emotion, however the hissing and rumbling of its real language left no doubt of the creature's impatience.

Motioning for them to follow in a somewhat universal gesture with the razor-sharp talons on one of its four hands, the intimidating alien turned swiftly and began lumbering down the corridor, its muscular but flexible tail sweeping around behind it. Occasionally, and with some apparent awkwardness, it swung its entire upper body around and glanced at them, making sure they were still following close behind - close being a relative term given their caution and distrust. While its limbs and tail were mobile and supple, its muscle-bound upper-body and neck did not appear to be particularly flexible. Although the 270° vision afforded by its 4 eyes helped make up for that deficiency.

"Fish, you're on point. Oh-Man, stick by Nilsen. Kolzak, I want you covering our asses. Double time, gentlemen! You heard the space-lizard!" Commander Hardy snapped out the orders and they followed it deeper into the bowels of the unfamiliar vessel.

It took about 10 minutes at a half-jog following the hulking alien along corridors that gently curved as if following the contours of the hull, before they reached a heavily-armored hatchway where the alien halted and turned to face them. During the journey they had seen no other signs of life on the ship; the corridors seemed strangely empty and this made them all rather uneasy.

The tight, black clothing that covered most of the creature's torso did little to hide its bulging musculature. Both Antonio and Terry found themselves feeling rather inadequate while they stood there and stared at it, waiting for its next move. Reaching out with one of its front arms it slapped a pressure-pad on the side of the hatch and then stood away from the entrance while the armored door popped open before sliding on its rails to one side with a rumble.

"Our pack-leader will arrive shortly. You are required to wait inside this location." It regarded them dispassionately while they warily filed past it into the room and then leaned forward, activating the hatch controls and closing the hatch behind them.

Alone in the room, they briefly looked around at the mostly featureless surroundings before turning to face one another. "Fucking hell! Did you see that thing? What the hell is this, Jurassic-fucking-park or something?" Terry hissed while carelessly waving his assault rifle around and almost smacking Petter across the face with the barrel, earning him a filthy look from the NATO specialist.

"Be aware that they're probably watching us right now. We need to be careful what we say." Petter stepped back from the excitable marine, casting a nervous glance around the room again. "When their leader arrives you will let me do the talking. I don't want you... military types ruining our first meeting with an alien species." Despite his nervousness, the sneering, condescending tone in his voice was unmistakable.

"Hope aliens eat you first," Vasya muttered quietly under his breath while being careful not to let Petter overhear him.

Ever since arriving on the Valentina Tereshkova, the NATO mission specialist had been fussy about the ostensibly substandard conditions on board. Not to mention loudly critical of the whole venture, the ship, the crew, the food, and practically everything else regarding the mission, much to everyone else's annoyance.

Antonio snorted softly with amusement at the overheard remark but covered it with a cough when Petter turned to stare at him. Even Commander Hardy appeared amused; a small smile briefly flickered across his normally serious face while he scanned their surroundings.

"So Commander, didja see those claws? Man, four arms and eyes; that's some freaky shit right there. And the way those things are built they probably don't even need guns," Terry whispered hoarse with enthusiasm, pointedly ignoring Petter while he spoke.

"It even had huge talons on its feet, man!" Antonio traded observations with Terry while the rest of them stood around, silently waiting.

After several minutes the hatch rumbled into life again, sliding away to reveal several of the vaguely demonic-appearing aliens. When the creatures entered the room, two of them, who were rather heavily armed with huge, chunky weapons resembling 50-caliber machine guns, took up stations on either side of the door. Without preamble, one of the others, a particularly weathered looking individual who sported an impressive number visible scars, began speaking to them.

"This one's designation is Blaze-For-Eternity, pack-leader of Vanguard battleship Lightning-Strike. Who communicates for all humans, hrrr?"

"I, ahhh, I do," Petter Nilsen cleared his throat and stepped forward with only a slight quaver in his voice betraying his nervousness.

The 'pack-leader' - obviously some sort of senior soldier judging by the many long healed injuries - narrowed his eyes and studied the human up and down before turning and carefully examining the other men, paying particularly close attention to their assault rifles. "You are a warrior, hrrr? If so, where are your weapons?"

Blaze-For-Eternity turned back and stepped closer to the NATO specialist, staring down at him with his jaws open slightly. Two large upward pointing tusks were clearly evident, jutting from his lower jaw. Coupled with the demonic horns protruding from either side of its head, Petter found the Vanguard leader an extremely intimidating creature when it glared with what had to be disapproval down at him.

"Weapons? No, I'm a negotiator, not a warrior. I don't need weapons because we come in peace. I -"

"A negotiator, hrrr? Enough! You will depart immediately and return to your vessel. Now, get out," Blaze-For-Eternity interrupted him in mid-sentence and slashed one arm through the air in what they took to be a dismissive gesture.

One of the other Vanguard stepped forward and grabbed the startled man then dragged him, screaming, from the room before any of others could prevent it.

"Stop! Return him immediately or you'll regret it, lizard!" Commander Hardy snarled while he and the others raised their weapons and aimed them squarely at the Vanguard pack-leader. The situation was beginning to rapidly deteriorate and Hardy was not well known for diplomacy.

"This one demanded a meeting with warriors; those who could speak on behalf of all humans. You insult us with that «guttural-noise», hrrr?"

None of the other Vanguard in the room had drawn their weapons yet, but they had closed ranks during the disruption. The four remaining humans were now completely encircled by the wary aliens.

"Return him, now! This is your final warning," Commander Hardy spoke slowly and carefully while he aimed down the barrel of his assault rifle. There were now four red laser spots dancing erratically on the Vanguard leader's craggy forehead.

As if realizing he was pushing a little too hard, the alien appeared to relax a little while flicking his inscrutable gaze between each of them in turn. "Do not be concerned for that «guttural-noise». It is physically unharmed and will be returned to your vessel shortly. There are protocols that must be followed and that creature was not of a suitable caste to be authorized to speak on behalf of your species. You, being the senior warrior will communicate for all humans now, hrrr?"

"Nilsen is the only one authorized to speak for us."

"That one was.... Neeeeelseeen, hrrr? Unacceptable. This one is authorized to discuss terms with senior warriors only in the absence of your world's Elders. You are senior warrior; you will discuss terms now, correct, hrrr?"

Commander Hardy was about to protest again when Blaze-For-Eternity lost patience with the dithering, diminutive aliens and slashed an arm through the air, signaling to the warriors. Before any of the humans could so much as blink, the encircling Vanguard moved with surprising alacrity and wrenched the assault rifles from their hands.

Vasya, who had more active combat experience than any of the others barring the Commander, managed to keep one hand on his rifle and was hanging on like grim death, swearing blue murder at the demonic looking alien in Russian. The Vanguard who was attempting to relieve him of his weapon growled and backhanded him with one of its powerful rear-arms, sending him flying through the air. His short flight ended when he smashed into a bulkhead with a pain-filled cry, before he fell to the deck, unmoving.

"Vasya!" Antonio stared wide-eyed and aghast at the unmoving form of his new friend. "You fucking bastards!" he spat at the alien man-handling him while he thrashed around trying to free himself from the vice-like grip.

Terry and Commander Hardy were also struggling desperately to free themselves, however the strength of the aliens was more than a match for their own, so they were reduced to attempting to make life as difficult for the aliens as they could, biting, scratching and yelling to little effect.

* * *

Blaze-For-Eternity sighed while reaching up to deactivate the small, translucent black translation disk hanging from his left ear. Things hadn't quite gone according to plan, although to be fair he hadn't given them much opportunity. He had disagreed with sending off a mission in the first place when the Elders had tasked him with the role, however they had to be obeyed. That didn't mean he couldn't manipulate the situation to his own advantage, however. On their return the records would show he had given the aliens an opportunity to speak, but that they chose to ignore the specific instructions to send only warriors and behaved in a 'violent and confrontational manner'. Not that he gave them much of a chance, but the Elders didn't need to be bothered with those sorts of minor details...

These humans didn't appear to be the powerful warriors he had been half expecting from what he remembered of the alien involved in the New Home battle rumors, either. Their weapons and spacecraft were primitive. Physically, they were even more pitiful than a new-born spawnling!

After instructing the warriors to return the remaining humans back to their vessel, Blaze- For-Eternity lumbered over to the one lying motionless on the deck and hunkered down beside it.

A thick, red liquid stained several parts of the creature's clothing and a small amount had pooled on the floor underneath its head. He could smell a salty and slightly metallic scent coming from the liquid, most likely blood. This trip to the far edge of the galaxy was looking more and more like a complete waste of time than ever before. These humans were going to be no help whatsoever against the growing conflict with the Arbiters. Magnanimously he decided the humans were free to depart with their lives in their pathetic excuse for a vessel, however the body of this dead one they would keep for further study. If the Tau Ceti colony survived over the next few years while the Empire military recovered, then they would return here. These humans would make for a ridiculously easy conquest and their planet would make for a useful way-point to other destinations out here on the Galactic Rim.

He straightened up and then grabbed the collar of the human's flight suit, dragging the body down the corridor and leaving a smeared trail of blood behind him.

Chapter Seven

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Incoming Communications Remote Initiated (from sector-main/encrypted):

?? Interrogative incoming: previous reports note a single vermin battleship-class: purpose for mission to remote location?

!! Response outgoing: unknown, suspected intelligence gathering.

!! Response outgoing additional: discovery of new resource opportunity, threat deemed minimal, technology level primitive.

?? Interrogative outgoing: demand response.

!! Response incoming: extinguish vermin battleship-class, ensure communications silence.

!! Response incoming additional: threat response fleet dispatched to your position.

!! Response incoming additional: gather intelligence until threat response fleet arrival.

!! Response outgoing: acknowledged.

Transmission Complete (terminated by remote end)

* * *

Having just gone off duty, Obscuring-Darkness paused at a corridor junction and closed his eyes for a brief moment while the weariness washed over him, all the while ignoring the annoyed snorts from those who had to side-step around his abruptly stationary self. To the left his shared quarters and sleep-webbing awaited just a hundred or so meters down the corridor. To the right was the med-bay and various weapon and supply storage areas. It didn't take long before the corridors were largely emptied out, most of the others having disappeared into their own quarters or begun shifts at the various workstations scattered around the large vessel. Indecision tugged at him; aching muscles from clambering around the shuttle docking-bay nagged for some much needed relief, however a certain someone he was rather fond of was having his last healing session with the medics about now...

A peculiar noise from behind him made him turn around and to his surprise he saw the battleship pack-leader lumbering toward him, dragging something that left a messy, red trail along the decking behind him.

On noticing the engineer, the pack-leader halted beside him, looking him briefly up and down before sniffing in disdain. "Engineer; you will deliver this thing to the med-bay and instruct the senior medic to conduct a thorough examination of it immediately. I will expect a full report once he has concluded the examination."

Without waiting for a response, the pack-leader unceremoniously dumped the rumpled and dripping mass to the deck by Obscuring-Darkness' feet and wheeled around, disappearing back in the direction of the bridge.

Tipping his head back and exposing his neck in a show of respect and submission, he waited until the pack-leader had disappeared before he hunkered down for a closer look at... whatever it was. Tentatively poking at it, he realized that it was actually some type of animal, resembling nothing he had ever seen before, although it was most likely one of the aliens from the nearby planet they had been sent to contact, he figured. Unlike many of the others he had paid very little attention to the details of the mission or the inhabitants of the nearby planet, burying himself in his work instead.

His curiosity piqued despite his previous disinterest, he turned it over to examine it more closely when it made a quiet groaning noise, forcing him to straighten in surprise. The creature was still alive! The pack-leader had given him the distinct impression it was inert or dead which would not have been surprising given the amount of peculiar colored blood - if that was what the red fluid was, which seemed likely - it was leaking. Glancing up he searched around for any sign of the pack-leader or other senior Vanguard he could refer this unwelcome interruption to, however Blaze-For-Eternity had turned down a side corridor and was now well out of sight. With a Vanguard equivalent of a shrug, he gently scooped up the creature and loped down the corridor toward the med-bay, attempting to keep his pace as steady as possible so as not to jolt the injured alien too much.

"I require immediate medical assistance," Obscuring-Darkness hissed when he lumbered through the med-bay door with his dripping burden.

There was only one medic on duty and, when she approached him to investigate the commotion, stopped dead in her tracks while staring blankly at the bleeding alien cradled in his arms.

"Ugh, it is disgusting! I am not touching that!"

"Hrrr? It is badly injured and needs urgent attention," he rumbled, leaning down and gently depositing the alien onto the nearest diagnostic table.

When he released it, the alien moaned slightly and reached out a wavering arm toward him. It spoke softly, breathless words he couldn't understand when he then stepped away from the table.

"It is vermin. We treat Vanguard here, not alien filth," the medic muttered, alternating her glare between him and the alien who had ceased moving and now lay ominously still. She glanced up when the hatch slid open with a subdued hum and another Vanguard entered the room. "Besides, I have a proper patient to attend to."

He turned his head and recognized Invokes-The-Storm standing just inside the doorway, staring at the tableau in front of him with wide, surprised eyes.

"Hrrr...?" the young warrior managed to get one word out before Obscuring-Darkness rounded on him, quickly explaining what had just transpired.

* * *

When he had first stepped aboard the Lightning-Strike several months ago, Invokes-The-Storm had been a little nervous, but mostly excited at the prospect of serving aboard one of his colony's most modern battleships. After the Empire fleet had abandoned the Tau Ceti colony, the various engineering clans had stepped up production of their own military vessels, and the Lightning-Strike had been the first out of the orbital manufacturing facilities. Once aboard to his surprise he had swiftly been befriended by one of the senior warriors who had promised to take the inexperienced young Vanguard under his tutelage and assist him in adjusting to ship-board life.

A life that became something more akin to a nightmare.

Days eventually blurred into nothing but degradation, violence, and pain from the talons of his many tormentors. Through the many beatings - or worse - that he'd been forced to endure, one tiny spark had kept him going; a white-hot spark of eventual vengeance toward his aggressors. There was to be no help from the other senior warriors who witnessed his plight, they simply shrugged it off as little more than the normal hazing any new junior warrior received at the hands of their superiors.

Throughout the ordeals he never once broke down in public, refusing to give his tormentors the satisfaction. This had led to him being treated a lot worse than some of the other unfortunates who submitted to such treatment, they were not as much fun to break, apparently.

He had enough inner-strength, he mistakenly thought, to get him through this or worse. He was mistaken...

The engineer demanding he do something to help what looked like a wounded animal, a medic ranting and raving about vermin, the recent trauma he'd suffered at the hands of his tormentors... He felt something inside his mind let go and it was if he had suddenly become merely a spectator, watching events unfold in front of him as if his limbs and mouth were now controlled by someone else. From a safe, comfortable place inside his mind, he watched with curious detachment when his hands reached for his weapons and his body stepped toward the medic with a low, menacing growl.

"You heard the engineer. The alien needs your assistance."

"It is vermin, hrrr! Who knows what sort of disgusting parasites and diseases -"

"Immediately!" he roared, swinging the weapons around and taking aim at the medic's face, the low whine of activated power packs loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Visibly shaken at the unexpected threat, the medic quickly turned to attend to the injured alien. Carefully stripping its bloodstained clothing off, she kept half an eye on the agitated warrior standing not far behind her. Closing her eyes, she concentrated hard, her body swaying slightly while focusing her attention on the injuries. Her taloned hands roved over the bruised and broken creature's body, feeling for the damage both on and below the surface of the skin. There were quite a few broken bones, a lot of internal damage, and several deep lacerations which were still bleeding freely. Severe impact damage with a hard, unforgiving surface and lacerations caused by Vanguard talons.

Nervously, she lowered her hands to her sides and stepped back, turning to face him. "This may take some time. It would be beneficial if you were both to depart. I will endeavor to heal this... creature... to the best of my abilities. However I need to concentrate properly and am unable with the pair of you looking over my shoulder shouting threats!"

"Very well, medic. I hope for your sake that you are successful," he snarled before holstering his weapons and storming from the room, with Obscuring-Darkness right on his heels.

Once in the corridor, Obscuring-Darkness reached out an arm toward him. "I am very much appreciative of your support back there, I -"

Without any warning he slammed the smaller Vanguard bodily up against a bulkhead and lifted him slightly into the air, his powerful rear arms crushing the engineer's throat and cutting off his breathing. The pinned engineer's struggles and thrashing were no match for his superior strength.

"You are one of them!" he leaned forward until he was snout to snout with the bewildered engineer, flecks of saliva spraying out of his mouth as he hissed venomously. "You all want something. To use me. I am merely a thing to you, a thing! It ends immediately here and now because I refuse to be used any longer," his snarl trailed off while he stared deep into Obscuring-Darkness' bulging eyes, studying the young engineer minutely through narrowed eyes... The rational part of his mind had by now shut down completely, leaving the vicious, wounded animal in control. An animal that no longer recognised the friendly engineer, but instead could only see the twisted, leering face of one of his aggressors... one of those who had manipulated him; hurt him.

"«Ack!» Please... you... killing me!" Obscuring-Darkness managed to choke out, his vision fading as he began to lose consciousness, his struggles weakening.

"Killing you, hrrr? You should be so fortunate! A desire for a swift death is something you will yearn for, however."

With that he stepped back and released the engineer who fell to the floor while clutching weakly at his now badly bruised throat. Glancing around he spotted a disused maintenance hatchway a few meters down the corridor and loped over to it. Opening it, he activated the internal lighting and looked around inside the enclosed space.

The beginnings of an erection started to stretch the skinsuit material around his genital-pouch, accompanied by several strands of saliva sliding around his tusks and dripping slowly onto the deck. The perfect location for dismembering the former aggressor at his leisure without being disturbed. Hearing the sound of faint voices, he ducked back into the corridor and wildly hunted around for the source, however other than his victim lying shocked and trembling weakly on the deck, he was alone in the corridor..

"Move with haste!"

He spun around on his heels, attempting to locate the source of the whispering into his ear.

"Secure him. Take him immediately! Hurt him!"

"Hurt... him, hrrr?" he snapped his jaw shut softly, vacantly before lumbering back over to his beaten and trembling aggressor.

The voices were seductive, appealing, and strangely familiar. He grabbed the engineer by one arm and a leg and bodily threw him down the corridor toward the hatch with a grunt, watching with a cold, emotionless expression when the smaller Vanguard impacted the edge of the open hatch and cried out from the pain.

"Yessssss... Hurt him! Make him ssssssuffer!" the voices hissed triumphantly as he lumbered over to his aggressor who was feebly struggling to get to his feet, streams of viscous black blood sluggishly leaking from several new cuts.

He reached the engineer and stared down through clouded eyes, watching the many faces of his tormentors morphing and twisting as if mocking him. Turning slightly to one side, he brought back his left leg in preparation for an almighty kick, not noticing when the engineer managed to tuck two of his arms in front of him for protection before the taloned foot connected.

The scream was music to his ears as he felt the bones breaking beneath his foot, along with several ribs giving way with a loud, tell-tale «crack!». The kick sent his aggressor tumbling into the room, barely conscious and seemingly oblivious to his presence looming above him.

"Why...?" Obscuring-Darkness gasped, stunned from the agony and filled with terrified incomprehension at this sudden, unexpected attack from someone he thought of as a friend.

"No more pain!" he bent down and none too gently dragged the engineer to his feet, before pushing him over onto a pile of metal crates lined up against a bulkhead. Using the talons on his two forward arms he proceeded to rip apart the engineer's skinsuit while holding him down with his two stronger rear arms. When had finished removing the tattered remains of Obscuring-Darkness' skinsuit, he began stripping off his own. It was a symbolic removal of the last vestiges of his civilized, rational self, before he soaked himself in blood... "No more pain," he growled, stepping out of his discarded skinsuit.

"Hurt him! Take him! Rip him! Kill him..." insistent, demanding, screaming voices swirled around his head, drowning out a tiny protest of doubt and horror which echoed inside his mind like a dying breath....

He knelt down and straddled helpless and exposed young engineer with all four of his arms raised and talons exposed. As if realizing the hopelessness of the situation, his beaten and cowed aggressor gave up struggling and just lay back, panting with terror and semi-conscious from the agony of his injuries with bloody tears leaving dark trails across his face.

Staring down into the battered engineer's eyes, the look of dull resignation triggered something deep within the crazed warrior's mind. "No more... pain, hrrr?" he rumbled softly as the faces of his tormentors faded from his vision, replaced by the tear-streaked, familiar face of a terrified Vanguard his own age.

The voices were suddenly silent, having seemingly disappeared back to the consuming darkness from whence they came and leaving nothing but the hoarse breathing of the bloodied and beaten engineer and hum of various electronics around him to break the silence. He lowered his arms slowly and staggered to his feet, stumbling away from the broken body of the engineer until a bulkhead prevented any further retreat.

"Oh for the love of the Revered Ancestors..." He slumped down the bulkhead and stared at the blood that he knew from the smell was clearly not his own on his talons. "What have I done," he whispered, horrified and shaking.