Winds of darkness - Part Three

		(c) 2001, Wirewolf
		(Rewritten 2/1/99)

  "We have to leave.  There's got to be someplace we can take shelter if the window 
breaks."  The lieutenant was speaking to the group in general.  He stood, pointing down 
the hall to the lift doors.

  T'yonnosh was still staring out the door's window when he remembered the comm units 
Garvin had given them.  He searched the pockets of his robe but found nothing.  How 
could that be?  He had used it...

  Of course.  He had tried to call Garvin with it before the explosion.  It had been in his 
hand.  It must have been knocked from his grip.  He quietly cursed his luck.

  "Whoever can stand, help anyone who can't," the lieutenant was saying.  "We've got to 
move fast."

  "How'd you get to be leader?" the angry man protested.  The lieutenant ignored his 
complaints and helped the Thurnockt diplomat to her feet.

  "Does anyone have a comm unit?"  T'yonnosh looked the group over desperately.  No 
one answered.  He addressed the ICCN officer.  "You.  Do you have one?"

  After steadying the diplomat, the lieutenant shook his head.  "I'm off duty.  Left it in my 
quarters."

  T'yonnosh anxiously turned back to the windows.  He was shocked to see someone 
staring back at him.

  "Someone's at the door!  Someone's out there!"  There were actually two faces to be 
seen.  T'yonnosh's heart sank when he realized neither of them was Redics.

  The first was an Yrboti man who looked even more wrinkled than usual.  T'yonnosh's 
blood ran cold when he saw the other's familiar face.  It was Ceetesh, Sesh's aide.

  "We have to open the door.  They're right here."  He turned back to the group.  The 
lieutenant moved up beside him.  Through the window he could see the panicked faces of 
the two unfortunates.  They were banging on the door and pleading for entrance.

  The lieutenant turned to the Yrboti woman, asking, "How can we get this door open 
again?"

  "No!" The angry human rounded on them both.  "You'll be killing us all! Leave it 
closed!"

  "We have to risk it.  We can't leave them out there."

  The angry man's face contorted in rage as he grabbed the lieutenant's arm.  "Who are 
you to tell me I have to risk my life?!  You can't do that to me!  You're human!  You 
should know better!"

  The lieutenant stared at the angry man, confused.  "What?"

  "He's right."  That came from the Thurnockt.  "The risk is too great.  We should be 
leaving, not discussing opening doors."

  "That is dishonorable behavior and not acceptable.  We must give aid."  A Pashii, her 
reptilian face forming her version of a scowl, motioned to the doors.  "I say we must open 
them if we can."

  "I know the genemorph.  He might have seen my friends," T'yonnosh put in.

  The angry man's voice rose in pitch as he abandoned the lieutenant and advanced on 
him.  "I don't care about your friends, dog-man!  I'll kill you before I let you open those 
doors!"

  T'yonnosh, his own anger rising, raised his hands, ready to fight the mad human.

  At that moment there came a sound that was unmistakable in its origin.  A heavy 
'whoomp' was followed by the roar of escaping air.  T'yonnosh caught only a glimpse of 
helpless terror on Ceetesh's face before he disappeared from the window.

  The explosive decompression sent a wild shudder through the station.  Some of the 
standing were shaken to their knees.  Over the moans and frightened cries of the group, 
T'yonnosh heard the creak of stressed metal.  Looking at the doors, he could see them 
bulging outward a little.

  For a moment he wondered if Redics and Zanth had survived, or if they would all three 
be dead when the door blew out.

  **************************

  The access panel was resisting Redics' efforts to open it.  He pulled with his good arm 
as hard as he could, but nothing would give.  The Yrboti began slapping at his hand and 
yelling something.

  Confused, Redics shouted in return.  "What?!  What are you doing?"

  Frantically the Yrboti mimicked twisting the handle, then pushing the door inwards.

  "Now he tells me," Redics grunted.

  With his help, the panel opened.  Redics risked a quick glance behind him.  The clouded 
area was huge now.  It covered a full third of the window.  He followed the Yrboti and 
Zanth through the open panel.

  The access corridor was really a tunnel.  A small, cramped tunnel at that.  There wasn't 
room for anyone to get close enough to help Redics close the panel.  The wound in his 
shoulder made moving around on his hands and knees a miserable endeavor.  With some 
painful jockeying, Redics leaned back and placed his boot heels against the panel and 
pushed.

  The panel was nearly closed when a deafening roar crashed over him.  A brief wind 
tugged at him before the panel was caught by the escaping air in the tunnel and slammed 
shut.  A pained convulsion seemed to run through the station, as though it knew the 
extent of its injuries.  The three refugees were shaken within their cramped hiding place.

  The Yrboti was jabbering at Redics again, but he paid little attention.  His thoughts 
were centered on their predicament.  With a pang, Redics thought of T'yonnosh.  Where 
was he?  Was he injured?  Had he survived?

  "Call T'yonnosh," Zanth said with quiet urgency.

  Call?  Redics blinked.  Of course!  He cursed himself a fool and dug into his pants 
pocket for the comm Garvin had given him.  As he pulled the little device from his 
pocket, it snagged and spun out of his hand.  He spent a moment flailing crazily, trying to 
catch it mid-flight.  When it hit the floor he snatched it up and turned it on.

  "T'yonnosh!  T'yonnosh, reply.  This is Redics.  Please reply."  Nothing.  Not even the 
tiny indicator light came on to tell him the other comm had been paged.  He tried again.

  After several attempts, Redics set the comm on standby and put it away.  "There might 
be some interference," he told the tundra cat.  "Or he might be out of range."

  Zephanthus said nothing.

  **************************

  "Come on!  You heard what she said!  That door isn't going to hold!"  The lieutenant 
shouted at the group while he picked up a dazed Yrboti.  In a stumbling rush, the small 
group made their way toward the row of lifts connected to the hallway.  The loud human 
pushed his way to the front without bothering to help anyone.

  T'yonnosh noticed the last Yrboti woman through the door had slumped down again.  
She was struggling to stand.

  Crouching next to her, he took her thin arm and slid it around his waist.  He hooked his 
other hand under her opposite armpit and stood, bringing her up with him.  She got her 
trembling legs under her and brought herself up the rest of the way.

  Together, T'yonnosh and the woman followed the group to the lifts.  Three of the four 
lifts had orange and blue lights flashing over them.  T'yonnosh looked down the 
adjoining hallways.  Section seals had come down here, too.  The lifts were the only way 
out.

  The loud human was poking urgently at the lift controls and cursing in a steady stream.  
Nothing seemed to happen.  T'yonnosh asked the woman he was supporting, "What do 
those lights mean?"

  The Yrboti woman nodded at the orange light and muttered, "Disabled."  She looked at 
the blue lights.  "Locked off," she added.

  They both looked at the remaining lift.  It was set slightly apart from the others and was 
labeled in heavy, curling Yrboti text.

  "Where does that go?" he asked.

  "Cargo.  Ship."  She paused for a moment, trying to remember the right phrase.  
"Docking.  Docking ring."

  There were no lights above the lift doors.

  The loud human had already attacked the call pad for the dock lift and abandoned it 
when nothing happened.  They were all waiting anxiously for one of the lift doors to 
open.  T'yonnosh and the woman knew three of them wouldn't.

  T'yonnosh was about to speak up and tell them all when the dock lift doors opened.

  The loud human, whom T'yonnosh had mentally tagged 'Obnoxious,' scrambled ahead 
of everyone into the small lift car.  "Let's go!" the lieutenant urged the group.  With some 
difficulty, the bunch of them pressed into the lift.

  T'yonnosh felt a mixture of relief, fear and anger as the door closed and the lift headed 
toward the docks.  He was safe, but he didn't know if his companions were.  Or if they 
were even still alive.  The press of alien bodies, the combined smell of sweat and smoke 
laced with the prickly tang of blood, even the muted moans and cries of those around 
him; all this couldn't distract T'yonnosh from his thoughts.  He had to find his friends and 
help them if he could.  There had to be a way.

  The station had another seizure and they got bounced around again.

  Packed in the way they were, the effects were minimized.  "What's happening?  What's 
doing that?" someone asked aloud.

  The Yrboti T'yonnosh was holding raised her head and rasped, "Compensators.  Ships 
leave docks too fast."

  Ships!  T'yonnosh grimaced, disgusted with himself for not thinking of it sooner.  The 
Ti Phorus had communication and sensor equipment that could help him find Redics and 
Zanth.  He breathed a quiet sigh of relief.  Now he knew what he must do.  He would 
focus on getting to the ship and finding them rather than just running for his own life.

  Feeling better, he glanced down at the Yrboti woman who still clung to his chest for 
support.  He felt like telling her that things would be better now, that they were all safe.

  No.  The image of the Yrboti on the floor of the meeting hall flashed back to him.  This 
woman may have just lost friends or family of her own.  Anger rekindled in him.  An 
explosion.  Several explosions.  Deliberate.

  The lift car stopped briefly to shift direction.  As they moved, gravity seemed to ripple 
and swell.  They were moving out into the docking ring itself, T'yonnosh surmised.  He 
felt himself get marginally heavier.

  The lift stopped with a bump and the doors opened.  Frigid air swept in among them.  
They spilled out onto the docks and looked around.

  T'yonnosh's breath frosted the air.  He had forgotten how cold the docks were.  The 
docking ring was a thin flat tube connected by struts and shielded accessways to the main 
torus of the station and was exposed to open space on all sides.  Thermal shielding was 
minimal here.  The docks weren't designed for comfort.  The intense cold of space made 
refrigerated storage simple, so that was considered priority.

  Looking across the upward curve of the docks, T'yonnosh saw something that chilled 
him even more than the air.  Fifty meters to their right was a huge metal door that 
blocked off that end of the docks.  To their left, about a hundred meters away, was 
another metal door blocking that end.

  Something had ruptured the docks.  Section seals had come down to keep the entire 
docking ring from going to vacuum.

  The woman holding onto T'yonnosh saw the seals also, and stared in horror.  She said 
something, shook her head and moaned.  She looked up at T'yonnosh.

  "Ships pull out.  Break seals.  Dock breached."  She shook her head again.

  T'yonnosh swallowed.  People rushing in panic to disengage from the docks had pulled 
away without securing the seals.  Like pulling a cork from a submerged bottle, only in 
reverse.

  The others in the group had scattered a little.  The lieutenant's voice brought T'yonnosh 
back.  "It's too cold here.  We need to find an open ship.  Someplace to take shelter."

  The docks were cluttered with machinery.  Loading rigs, shuttle platforms, cargo 
conveyers and stacks of containers were everywhere.  The actual docking seals were 
arranged in rows along the docks like small houses.  Contained in each large column of 
machinery were the grappling braces that held docked ships in place.  Power and vitals 
such as water, air, fuel, and other necessities for pre-hyperdrive ships flowed through the 
seals in pipes and conduits.  The access lifts that connected the docks to the ship's 
airlocks were housed within the seemingly random tangle of support machinery.

  Still standing within the lift, T'yonnosh asked the Yrboti woman how they could find an 
open ship.  "Yellow lights," she said.

  "Like the lifts?"

  "Yes.  Lights."  She looked around her.  She pointed at the nearest seal and grunted.  
Taking the cue, T'yonnosh walked out onto the docks with the woman in tow.

  A memory struck T'yonnosh the instant he stepped out of the lift.  When he and Redics 
had left the Ti Phorus, T'yonnosh had been wearing boots.  The same boots Redics had 
tried to get him to wear to the assembly.  There had been a good reason for wearing them 
from the ship to their assigned quarters on the station: the docks were freezing cold.

  Normally such a frigid atmosphere wouldn't bother T'yonnosh.  Long dead genetic 
engineers had designed his people with a natural insulator.  His soft slate-gray mane and 
the shorter, sleek, brindled fur that covered the rest of him, all but the sensitive pads on 
fingers and toes, normally protected him from any real discomfort.  The intense cold of 
the deckplates, however, was more than even his thick fur could keep out.

  The two of them moved to the closest seal and looked up at the row of lights over the 
door.  To T'yonnosh' s surprise, a green light shone brightly.  But the woman turned 
away, saying, "Empty."

  They passed another seal, also marked with a green light.  The next one was showing a 
blue light.  "Locked off," she said.

  They moved to the next seal.  Another blue light.  He looked around, noticing that he 
could only see a few of the people who had gotten off the lift with him.  They were 
checking out seals by trying to call for the airlock lifts, unaware of the lights over them.

  T'yonnosh clenched his jaws.  The numbness that had been seeping into his feet was 
turning into brittle pain.  The woman with him noticed that his walk had turned into a 
mincing step.  She looked down at his bare feet, then up at him.

  "Burden.  Walk."  She let go of her hold on him, wincing a bit with her own pain.  
T'yonnosh was only too glad to lose the extra weight.  He wondered distractedly where 
the Ti Phorus was docked.  He hadn't paid any attention to the platform number when 
they left.

  A shout went up from their left.  T'yonnosh and the Yrboti headed off in the direction 
of the noise.

  Most of the others were clustered around a seal that was to the left of the lift they had 
arrived in.  By the time T'yonnosh and the woman got there, everyone in the group was 
standing around the seal's airlock door.  T'yonnosh noticed a yellow light burning above 
them.

  Apparently, Obnoxious had been the one to find the open lift for he was at the front of 
the group inside, poking stubbornly at the control pad.  The lieutenant was holding the 
doors open while the last people got in.

  As he passed the threshold of the lift, T'yonnosh happened to look to his right.  By the 
door was a small screen lit with some flashing text.  At first it didn't sink in.  The registry 
number of the ship only caught his eye for an instant.  Then he stopped, blinked, and 
looked again at the screen.

  T'yonnosh stared for a moment, not really believing it.  But there it was, as plain as it 
could be.  Registry number AFW 1097-CW/63842133.

  The Ti Phorus.

  **************************

  Redics and Zephanthus sat in silence for a minute.  The quiet was broken by the 
insistent voice of their Yrboti 'guide'  He was gesturing urgently again, this time to move 
further down the tunnel.  "I don't know," Redics said quietly.  His shoulder still hurt and 
putting stress on it by crawling around was not something he was prepared to do.

  The Yrboti persisted.  He pointed to the panel that now separated them from hard 
vacuum and spoke loudly.  He made a short, jerking motion and spoke again, almost 
shouting.  He watched Redics, who simply didn't understand.

  "What?  What about the door?"  Redics was getting frustrated at his lack of a translator.

  The man made a final gesture and turned.  He began crawling further down the tunnel.  
Frowning, Redics stared at the access panel.  It looked secure to him.  He looked again at 
the retreating Yrboti.

  "Redics," Zanth said softly.  "Do you hear something?"

  Redics blinked at his companion, listening for whatever had caught his attention.  Yes, 
there was a sound, a faint hissing.  He turned to the panel again.  Trying not to move his 
left shoulder, he leaned close to the door.

  Air was escaping around the seal of the door.  Either the seal was failing or it simply 
wasn't designed to be airtight.

  "We're losing our air.  Follow him."

  Zanth twisted fluidly in place and started down the well-lit tunnel.  Redics did his best 
to follow him.

  As he feared, crawling was painful.  Each jarring movement seemed to anger his wound 
more than the last.  He tried hooking his left hand into the waistband of his pants and 
letting the arm dangle.  That helped some, but it was still slow going.

  Having fallen into a rhythm of shuffling on his knees and one good hand, Redics had 
stopped paying any attention to where they were going.  He was surprised when Zanth's 
voice said, "We're here, I guess."

  They had reached another door, a seal similar to the ones that had isolated the meeting 
hall.  It was open, the Yrboti sitting with Zanth on the other side, waiting for him.  Redics 
wasted no time getting himself through the door.  Their guide closed it after him.  It slid 
silently across the tunnel and stopped with the harsh clack of heavy bolts shooting home 
to secure it.

  Redics shifted onto his back and looked around.  The access corridor here looked more 
like a place where maintenance work might be done.  It was much bigger, big enough for 
Redics to stand hunched over, if he chose to.  There were exposed conduits and several 
small maintenance hatches.  At least they looked to him like hatches.  There were other 
openings that looked like tool lockers or some such.

  Looking at the thick seal that had closed behind him, Redics felt certain that they were 
isolated to the point where communications would be impossible.  He sighed.  At least 
they were safe.

  The wrinkled Yrboti man was sitting silently, staring at the deck.  He looked to be in 
mild shock.  Zanth moved up against Redics, taking a moment to sniff at the wound in 
his shoulder.  He looked at Redics.  "Now what?"

  "Good question."  Redics closed his eyes, trying to shut out the unwanted thoughts of 
what had just happened.  "We have to find a way out of here."  He opened his eyes to find 
himself staring directly into Zanth's.

  The tundra cat glanced briefly at the alien sitting close by.  "Where should we go?"

  A few seconds slipped by.  Redics made a decision.  "The ship.  That's where we were 
going to go before the explosion.  Maybe T'yonnosh found a way to get there.  If not..."  
Images slid through his mind, quick and sharp.  The corner of his mouth twitched.  "If 
not," he made himself say, "we can use the ship to search for him."

  Redics pushed with his legs to get himself sitting up.  He moved his left arm exactly the 
wrong way and bit his lip to keep from yelling.  Suddenly, ideas about getting to the ship 
seemed less reasonable.

  When his breathing was back to normal, he noticed a dark smear on the inside of 
Zanth's left foreleg.  He was a little ashamed of himself for forgetting his friend's injury.  
He pointed to it.  "Can you walk very far on that?"

  "It's small.  Like a burr under the skin."  Zanth's expression was neutral since his face 
had not been changed much beyond the original pattern of a Terran puma.  Redics had 
long ago learned the cat's body language, the best way to read what he was thinking or 
feeling.  The slight twitching of his flat, wide nose and the unconscious near-flattening of 
his ears were strong signs of discomfort.  The way Zanth was leaning discreetly to his 
right to take some weight off his left foreleg confirmed that the wound was hurting him 
more than he would admit.

  Redics let the matter go at that.  He glanced briefly at the Yrboti with them.  "I would 
give almost anything for a common translator," he grumbled.

  "We have one," Zanth told him.

  Redics turned to him, puzzlement in his voice.  "We do?"

  "My collar, remember?"

  For a moment, it escaped him.  Then his mind latched onto it like a starving man at a 
food synthesizer.  Zephanthus leaned forward, stretching his neck out.  Redics found the 
clasp and opened it.  Zanth shook his head, enjoying the feeling of freedom.

  On the inside of the wide leather collar was a protective flap that covered a line of tiny 
switches.  The switches were each labeled with abbreviations for their particular 
function.  There were controls for range, volume, signal frequency, mode, etc.  He 
hesitated.  They would need a third unit for the translator to be of any use.  The receiver 
implanted in his ear and the translator would only work to give Redics a signal.  They 
needed another receiver for the Yrboti.

  The comm!  With a grunt of satisfaction, Redics pulled out the comm and looked it 
over.  It had a few controls, also.  If he could get it to work on the same frequency that 
the collar did...

  After a few minutes work, Redics had it.  The comm would relay the Yrboti's words to 
the collar, and the collar would send the translation to Redics' ear receiver.  In reverse, 
Redics would have Zanth speak to get the words to the comm the Yrboti would have.

  Redics turned to the Yrboti.  That one was still staring at the deck, lost in his own 
thoughts, if he was thinking at all.  Redics touched him gently on the arm, causing him to 
start.  Redics held out the comm.  He turned it on and mimed holding it up to his mouth.

  The man seemed suspicious.  He looked at the offering but made no move to take it.  
Redics motioned again for him to take it and put it to his mouth.  No response.

  "Take it already!"

  The reaction to that was immediate.  The Yrboti backed up almost a meter, shifting his 
eyes from him to Zanth and back.

  Redics reigned in his temper.  He rolled the comm to where the Yrboti sat and told 
Zanth, "Say something so he'll understand what it's for."

  "He won't get a proper translation," the tundra cat said.  "It can only translate into 
Standard English after it gets a sample of his language."

  "I know, but,"  Redics broke off when the Yrboti picked up the comm.  The alien looked 
at it from all sides.  Zanth's explanation had been broadcast to both Redics' ear receiver 
and the comm.  The Yrboti had heard it, just as Redics had hoped.  The small alien 
looked at him with an unreadable expression.  Redics made a fist, held it to his mouth 
and said, "Speak into it."

  Hesitantly, the Yrboti brought the comm to his mouth and spoke.  Redics waited for the 
translation but received only scratchy sputters.  He shook his head and muttered, "Again."

  The alien looked at the comm as though wondering if he had done something wrong.  
He spoke again.

  "Is # # # am I #"

  Redics' head jerked up at the partial translation.  "I'm getting something.  Tell him to 
continue."

  Zephanthus said, "Keep going."  Redics could hear his own translation and the failed 
attempt broadcast from the comm.  They needed more words to work with.

  The Yrboti glanced at the comm again, but only for a moment.  He apparently was 
getting the idea.  He spoke a few sentences.

  "# are #.  Why did # # me into the #?  Do you work for #?"

  Redics made one final adjustment to the collar, then put it back around Zanth's neck.  
"Tell him who we are, Zanth."

  With both their names on file, the translator gave a nearly complete sentence over the 
comm using their names in open format.  That way, the receiving party would know that 
the proper names being broadcast were not mistranslated, but meant to sound the way 
they were heard.

  The Yrboti responded with a slight shift in his expression.  Redics hoped it was 
understanding.

  "My name is Sengual."

  Over Redics' ear receiver, he heard a quiet series of tones that indicated Sengual's name 
had been stored and would be rendered appropriately in future translations.  Redics had 
Zanth tell Sengual that the translator was grasping most of their words.  He then asked if 
Sengual knew a way to get to the docking ring.

  "Yes, I know a way.  I am a # technician.  But who do you work for?"

  Redics gave the most general answer he could, "We are civilians who work for ICCN." 

  Sengual stared at him, blank faced.  "We," he repeated.

  Redics nodded.  "Yes."  He put his hand on Zanth's shoulder.  "We."

  Sengual glanced at the tundra cat.  "What does your pet do for-"

  "He's not a pet," Redics interrupted forcefully.  "He's a companion.  Sentient."  He 
considered briefly, then added, "Civilized."  He looked at his friend and said, "Did I 
forget anything?"

  Zephanthus didn't answer.  He was watching Sengual's reaction.  Some of the Yrboti's 
fear seemed to diminish.

  Sengual noticed the reddish-brown smear in the fur of Zanth's foreleg and pointed.  
"How did that happen?"  He also pointed at Redics' shoulder.  "That.  How did that 
happen?  Was it #?"

  Redics shook his head.  "What was that last word?"

  After Zanth passed the question, the Yrboti made a gesture with his thin, wrinkled 
hands.  "Pieces.  Broken metal pieces of the station.  Shrapnel."  The translator was able 
to get context on the word the second time.

  Redics nodded again, wondering briefly if the gesture meant anything to Sengual.  "Yes.  
We were both hit by shrapnel from the explosion."

  The Yrboti's expression changed.  "Bad," he said into the comm.

  "Why is that bad?"

  "Fibers.  Station made of # metal fibers."

  This again, Redics thought miserably.  "Yes, we know.  Woven metal fibers.  We were 
told-"

  It was Sengual's turn to interrupt.  "The fibers will be brittle after the explosion.  Pieces 
break off.  Tiny pieces get in the blood.  Fibers.  They cause-"

  "Clotting," Redics and his ear receiver said simultaneously.  His expression turned grim.  
"Great."

  "What is it?"  Zanth had no access to Sengual's words except for Redics.  The human 
repeated what the Yrboti had said.

  "You need medical help.  I'll take you to the station hospital."  Sengual stood.  "Follow 
me."

  "No, wait."  Redics held out a hand.  "Zanth, tell him we have to get to the docking ring.  
It's more important."

  This time, Zephanthus turned to Redics and asked, "Where does he want to take us?"

  "He wants us to follow him to the station hospital."

  The tundra cat stared at him.  "Why is it more important?"

  Redics cursed himself silently.  Just moments ago he had asserted the tundra cat's 
sentience, and now he was trying to make decisions without regard for his companion's 
feelings.  It was bad enough they were in this predicament without him treating Zanth as 
though he were a child tagging along.

  "The Yrboti doctors might want to help, but I doubt they can do much for offworlders 
like us."  He met the stare of Zanth's piercing gray eyes as solidly as he could.  "Besides, I 
think it's doubtful we'll be in serious trouble anytime soon.  If the fibers are too big, 
they'll stay lodged in the muscle tissue, and if they're too small it will take a long time for 
enough of them to collect in any one place to be a threat."

  After a pause, Zanth quietly said, "I'm worried."

  Redics understood.  "I know," he told him.  "We'll be fine.  It's T'yonnosh I'm worried 
about the most."

  Sengual had halted when he heard Zanth's half of the conversation come over the 
comm.  When they stopped talking between themselves and asked him to take them to 
the docking ring instead, he was confused.  When he questioned their choice, they were 
persistent.  After some thought, mostly of where he would be if the human hadn't helped 
him, he took off further down the maintenance tunnel.  The two strangers followed close 
behind.

  **************************

  The trip down to the airlock accessway was mercifully short.  The lift connecting the 
accessway to the docks was probably meant to carry no more than six passengers.  With 
all ten people in their group crammed in, it was impossible to get comfortable.  
T'yonnosh's legs were starting to hurt again, and his head was throbbing a bit.  At least 
the overpowering smell of cold machinery and oil was out of his nostrils.

  The lift warmed up a little as it passed through the thermal shielding of the accessway.  
With the docking platforms themselves actually exposed to space, the tiny accessway had 
to be shielded to prevent visitors to the station from instantly freezing to death after 
leaving their ship's airlock.

  After a few moments, the doors of the lift opened onto the short corridor housed within 
the grappling arms of the dock seal.  The people nearest the doors gladly left the confines 
of the overcrowded lift.

  T'yonnosh watched Obnoxious push his way to the front and assault the external 
controls of the Ti Phorus' airlock doors.  They wouldn't open, of course.  He and Redics 
may not have bothered to lock off the dock seal, but they never left the ship empty 
without securing its airlock.

  "You won't be able to get it open," T'yonnosh told the annoying human.  Obnoxious 
sneered at him over his shoulder.

  "What do you know about it?" he asked, putting as much contempt into his voice as he 
could.

  T'yonnosh made his way to the man's side.  Glancing briefly at the lieutenant who was 
standing behind Obnoxious, T'yonnosh said, "I know you won't be able to get this airlock 
open because this is my ship."

  Obnoxious looked like he wanted to spit.   "I don't believe you," he snapped, and 
continued to work at the controls.

  The lieutenant scowled at the back of the man's head.  "How about letting him try the 
door and then you'll know if he's telling the truth."  His tone was that of a weary parent 
placating a stubborn child.  Obnoxious ignored him and refused to move.

  The lieutenant looked at T'yonnosh, silently deferring with his expression.  T'yonnosh 
frowned slightly.  He looked at the tired, hurting people crowding in behind them, looked 
back at the officer.  He tipped his head and gently flicked his ears in their direction, 
wincing at the twinge it caused.   Greater things to consider than ego, that gesture meant.

  Whether the lieutenant actually read the intent of the genemorph's body language or 
came to the conclusion himself was unclear.  His decision was not.  He put a heavy hand 
on the man's shoulder and said firmly, "Let him try."

  Obnoxious may have had conviction, but he lacked resolution.  He backed off just 
enough to let T'yonnosh move in.  He stood there smoldering and muttered, "Another 
traitor to the race."

  While T'yonnosh entered the three separate codes necessary to open the airlock, the 
lieutenant wondered if there was some way to distract Obnoxious from his seemingly 
constant anger.  He asked the man for his name.

  The man's anger was quickly replaced by pride as he responded, "I am Vages Setul of 
Golimun Prime."

  Understanding lit the faces of both T'yonnosh and the four other humans present.  
Vages was from a colony of people who left Terra during the first years of the Alliance's 
existence.  They refused to live in a society that embraced aliens and their cultures.  They 
found a habitable world to colonize and named it after their group's leader.  Once the 
colony was established, its people cut off all communication to the outside.

  So it remained for nearly a century.  Then, surprisingly, Golimun began sending out 
emissaries.  A poor economy and devastating political infighting had reduced the colony 
to the distasteful state of needing outside trade and technical assistance.  The Alliance, 
with the same openness and forbearance that had brought it strength, welcomed the 
emissaries.  The Golimunites found the help they needed.  Being xenophobes to the core, 
however, they also insisted on spreading the word to other humans of the evil influence 
of aliens.  Their words fell on deaf ears for the most part.  Like Vages, though, they were 
a stubborn lot and tried at every opportunity.

  With a quiet sigh and a slight puff of warm air, the Ti Phorus' airlock door slid open.  
Vages glared at T'yonnosh and said, "You are not in charge."  The human turned and 
strutted through the airlock.

  "So charming," the lieutenant observed dryly.

  T'yonnosh directed the group to the lounge, where they could sit or lay in comfort.  He 
brought out the large first aid pack that sat in its own locker by the airlock.  For the next 
few minutes he was too busy to think about how good it was to have familiar sights and 
smells around him.  He was relieved, though, to have carpeted deck underfoot.

  After a quick triage, treatment was given, as available, to those who needed it.  The 
lieutenant, who claimed to be Donald Criess when T'yonnosh asked him his name, did 
most of the work.  T'yonnosh was a fair hand at makeshift nursing, but he was feeling a 
bit taxed.  When Lt. Criess offered to treat him, T'yonnosh insisted on being treated last.

  While he was closing a nasty gash on the forehead of the other human male of their 
group, the lieutenant glanced around at the simple yet comfortable appointments of the 
Ti Phorus' lounge.  He studied T'yonnosh a second.

  "Forgive me for asking," he said softly, "but are you really the owner of this vessel?"

  "Co-owner, actually," T'yonnosh admitted.  "My partner is still on the station."  He 
paused.  "I hope."

  Which reminded him, he should be bringing the sensors on line to look for Redics and 
Zanth.  He stood up and excused himself.

  Before he could leave, the Thurnockt diplomat caught his attention.  "Excuse me," she 
said, pointing to one of the workstations around the lounge.  "May I use one of these to 
contact my staff?  They must know of my situation."

  "Certainly," T'yonnosh said.  "I'll go up front and unlock them from the main console."

  In the relatively spacious cockpit, T'yonnosh found Vages poking at the darkened 
controls of the central Command Board.  He watched from the door for a moment, 
determined not to get angry.  He was also interested in knowing if Vages was a potential 
threat to the Ti Phorus' security programs.

  He soon learned his fears were unfounded.  The human's efforts fell far short of the 
expertise needed to override the vocal lock-out.

  Vages pounded on the Board in frustration and swore fiercely.  He looked up at the 
blank viewscreens in front of him and saw a reflection of T'yonnosh.  He turned on the 
caniform with a spiteful look.  T'yonnosh might have worried if it had been anyone else.

  "Need any help?" he asked mildly.  He watched Vages plainly struggle with his 
conflicting wishes.  For one thing, T'yonnosh knew he loathed the idea of asking a non-
human for help.  For another, asking would also be admitting that T'yonnosh had told the 
truth about owning the ship.  The human was having trouble reconciling what he wanted 
with the way he had to get it.

  T'yonnosh almost felt pity for any creature that had to live in such a small mind.  
Almost.

  "Unlock them," Vages finally managed to grind out.

  So, T'yonnosh thought with some amusement, a speck of humility.  A beginning.  
"Certainly," he said.

  Addressing the general pickups in the cockpit, T'yonnosh gave his personal access code 
for powering up the Command Board.  He spoke in Formal Demri.  His codes were 
formatted in his native tongue for security purposes.

  After the initial power up, he gave further instructions, all in Demri.  He released the 
communications functions to the workstations in the lounge, as he had promised.  He also 
started a special command verification subroutine he and Redics had written themselves.  
Any commands the Board received would require additional vocal clearance from 
T'yonnosh.  That would technically release the readouts and displays but would deter any 
action without his knowledge and approval.

  Vages gave a grunt of satisfaction as the Board came to life, its various controls and 
displays giving off a soft, welcoming light.  His satisfaction was short lived.  When he 
tried to implement one of the controls, the Board warbled quietly at him in denial.  With 
a growing frown, he tried other controls.  He was given the same polite brush-off.  He 
turned to T'yonnosh again.

  "I said unlock them," he growled.  A threat, T'yonnosh supposed.

  "No," he replied with the strength of will Vages had been unable to find earlier.

  The human's upper lip curled, fury flashing in his eyes.  Anger, always anger with this 
one, T'yonnosh mused.  What a dull way to live.

  "Fine," Vages muttered.  He turned back to the controls, crossing his arms over his 
chest.

  T'yonnosh ignored the sulking human and sat in the other seat.  He had to move 
carefully.  His legs kept twitching at the sharp spikes of pain that seemed to wind through 
them.  Once he was sitting, he curled his frost-singed feet out of contact with the floor.  
That helped, a little.

  He put aside his physical discomfort as best he could and studied the Board before him.  
Neither side of the Board had more or better access to the controls.  Most of the keys and 
buttons and touch-pads were function modified, programmable.  With a few touches, he 
set up a priority control profile.  The Board warbled and he spoke an equivalent vocal 
command for what he was doing physically.  Soon, he had all the main controls routed to 
his station.

  T'yonnosh noticed Vages staring at him.  He didn't bother looking back.  He felt certain 
he would only find more annoyance on the human's part.

  He called up the damage report and grimly studied the display.  There was a lot of 
damage throughout the ship.  During their face-off with Del Tomusth, they had been hit 
by some kind of focused synchronizing energy weapon.  Instead of trying to overload or 
drain away the Ti Phorus' shields, it had matched the shield's frequency and briefly 
integrated with the shield grid.  During the integration, before he or Redics could figure a 
way to break the connection, massive amounts of power were channeled through their 
grid.  With the resultant overload happening on their side of the shields, the surge was 
able to jump from circuit to circuit, system to system.  Many of the instruments and 
equipment were damaged or destroyed.

  Even the protected core of the central computer had been corrupted.  Because of that, 
the Ti Phorus couldn't be debugged without going into dry-dock.  The self-diagnostic 
circuits and programming were now unreliable and nothing conformed to specs anymore.

  T'yonnosh checked the short-range sensors.  His ears twitched.  They were functional, 
but damaged.  Better than nothing.

  While Vages sat in silence, T'yonnosh asked the computer to link Redics' and Zanth's 
sensor ID files to the sensor array.  That way he could scan for the specific signatures of 
Zanth's collar and Redics' implants.  The computer balked however, telling him that the 
files he wanted were nonexistent.  Probably wiped by the surge, he thought.  Feeling 
some annoyance of his own, T'yonnosh put the sensor data on display and began looking 
for his friends himself.


**************************
This text is (c) 2001, Wirewolf
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