《Blacklisted》


 Chapter 1

    His footsteps carried hollow throughout the complex¡¯s hallways, diffusing off large steel doors and ruthlessly utilitarian walls. Textured floors provided only traction, specifically coloured lighting illuminating the sterile catacombs in a clinically white hue. Not even the slightest smudge of dirt or dust remained, for even that would intrude on the machinations of the underground facility.


    He stopped in front of an indistinct door, only his implant informing him that he had arrived at his destination¡ªthough he had traversed these passages enough for each route to be etched into memory.


    Dulled mud-coloured fur covered the four-clawed paw reaching for the access panel, his eight digit authentication code entered into the terminal. He adjusted his black suit, being mindful that his tail did not disrupt the fitment, and shifted his weight from one digitigrade leg to the other. The door announced an imminent occupant to those inside with a small artificial hiss from the speaker, his vertical triangular ears brushing the top of the frame as he entered.


    It was a dimly lit room, though his eyes compensated with little delay¡ªthe slit pupils widening to turn the near-black space into something he could navigate without issue. It needed to be dark, lest the mono-transparent wall bleed light into the adjacent containment. Such conditions were occasionally troublesome for those unfamiliar with the contents and crevices before him, but as with the rest of the building and its featureless corridors, even sight was but a mild convenience for the brown-furred male who entered.


    ¡°High Quesitar,¡± a smaller female greeted from the desk pressed against their semi-translucent view, her chair turned to face the doorway behind her. ¡°This one has awaited your arrival.¡±


    He nodded, once again noting her unusual coat; the beige fur was tinted the slightest amount of blue around her eyes, cheeks, and along the lips of her elongated muzzle¡ªnot enough to detract from the uniformity required of them, but enough to highlight her natural beauty. The deft touch of one who was familiar with the expectations placed, yet desired to be noticed by those astute enough. Those like him, presumably, and he found it to be an amusing sentiment.


    ¡°Assistant Quesitar,¡± the male reciprocated, allowing a slight mirth into his voice despite the circumstances. ¡°Has there been any deviations since the last query?¡±


    She smiled politely, friendly warmth and a touch of frustration tinting her expression. ¡°She has remained compliant, if...eerily still.¡± She glanced at the terminals on the table before turning back towards him. ¡°Must we stick with titles, Heroon?¡±


    A soft chuckle escaped him as he pulled out the seat next to her and situated himself, swiftly entering his credentials into his workstation of the sun. ¡°We must, Illia, and you are aware of why.¡±


    The sound of her sigh only slightly overcame the hum of the atmospheric conditioning providing oxygen for the room so far beneath the surface, followed shortly by the dejected voice of his den-mate muttering her reluctant compliance. ¡°Of course, high one. This one will adhere to the will of her betters.¡±


    He opened the files he needed and the screen filled with reports of the incident which led to his participation: recovered data of the largely destroyed device, statements collected by those involved, and a personnel file tied to the authorization code given by the one under observation.


    The individual in question was captured and contained after an ejected emergency shuttle was detected travelling in low atmosphere. It shifted trajectory, ignored hails, then impacted in a high-security military base. Once confronted, they gave their identification, a storage device, and serious accusations against the ones their people were in the process of first contact with. Following those events, they were restrained and transported to the facility that Heroon was assigned.


    All in all, a typically open and shut case; they would be discredited due to their ¡®evidence¡¯ being little more than corrupted files, a ridiculous recount of their experience, and the matter of their ¡®escape¡¯ ending in multiple cases of damage to a classified military base. The reason they were not executed or simply tossed into prison was twofold; they had an authorization code that supported some of their claim, and a discrepancy in that which was possible. It was just enough to bring caution to the High Elders.


    Unfortunately, that meant he was required to be there for this, and that he would need to swallow his own distaste in the process. One does not refuse the utmost echelons of command.


    ¡°Timetable suggests only the baseline quantity of sustenance has been consumed,¡± he murmured, bringing up the results of previous queries. Though the containment had been hastened and short in duration thus far, the nature of the situation still required isolation, and therefore status updates were to be collected in a timely manner. The last thing they needed was for their captive to expire before any proper interrogation could be held.


    His assistant pushed a detailed breakdown of the captive¡¯s actions, the list being quite short. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn¡¯t so much as blink to see a ¡®broken one¡¯ performing only the minimum to subsist¡ªeven breathing proved taxing for those diminished to existing as mere shells. Regardless. he perused the logged events, seeing little more than noted whispers, and a short response when questioned.


    ¡°They wished to speak with a High Quesitar,¡± Illia voiced quietly, mirroring the statement recorded. Some measurement of concern rested in her gaze. ¡°Since then, all that has been uttered is...disturbing prayer.¡±


    ¡°We do not exist, Assistant,¡± he reminded her, cycling a deep breath as he verified audio transcription from the containment. The litany of the faithful¡ªan archaic form of petitioning the Hunt Mother¡ªwas documented to have been voiced more times than he cared to count, and in as many variants as well.


    ¡°Yet we were beckoned all the same.¡±


    He looked at her from the corner of his eye. ¡°Lia.¡±


    The beige-furred female turned towards the see-through wall. ¡°I am aware of the absurdity, but that does not make it false.¡±


    Heroon followed her regard to the room across the desk, the pale white room host to a pale white table, a pale white chair, and a pale white light suspended from the ceiling. A female of desaturated fur was covered in scars, burns, and the visage of one not long for this world. Faded yellow fur coloured her jaw, reaching down her neck and torso. Her file cited it as being constrained to her front, as the rest was an equally muted grey, partially covered by bandages which were stained red with blood.


    She sat listless in the seat, the arms dangling at her sides showing even resting them comfortably was too large a task for the one who possessed them. An image of stagnation was completed by dead, hollow eyes. The empty stare seemed to pierce the opaque surface she should be seeing, instead boring into his skull unerringly, yet also appeared unfocused and hazy, her pupils dilated despite the bright illumination.


    He fought the caution which attempted to mar his stoic expression and closed out the files he wouldn¡¯t need, skimming the incident report before adjusting the collar of his suit.


    ¡°Assistant, prepare stenographic archiving on a physical medium as a backup.¡±


    ¡°Of course, High...¡± Illia blinked, her mind catching up to the request. ¡°Pardon?¡±


    The brown-furred male kept his voice even, his eyes focused on the contained female. ¡°I require a physical transcription of this interrogation.¡±


    ¡°You think she¡¯s...¡± A glance was enough to make his point. They had known each other since they were kits, so it took little effort for her to discern that he was deathly serious. None but those of stations exceeding his own would receive the documentation pertaining to this, for if what was hinted at were false, then it would be needless rumour and hostility.


    If it were true...


    She nodded hesitantly. ¡°It will be done.¡±


    He waited for her to pull the archaic equipment she needed from a sparsely used drawer, the tracks squeaking from possible years of disuse. As soon as she confirmed that she was ready, he pressed and held the button to activate a microphone built into the intercom, taking solace in the voice modulation and the privacy it would give him.


    ¡°Greetings, contained one.¡± The female in the isolated room only twitched a single claw in recognition. ¡°I am a High Quesitar of the United Military.¡±


    Heroon released the button to observe her, checking that Illia retained the neglected training imparted upon her during the initial induction of her position. His den-mate nodded her willingness and ability to continue, his claw depressing the intercom once more.


    ¡°You performed terroristic actions against a UM base and defamed our likely allies, yet the former you claim ¡®necessary¡¯ to support the latter. It is fortunate that none were present in the area you chose to impact, but it has become clear such was an unintended mercy. What benefit would you gain from possibly slaying kin with your choices?¡±


    He waited for her response, time crawling by as only the hum above them and the sound of his assistant recording notation could be heard. He was about to give up on making progress, but the speaker crackled¡ªa hoarse, strained voice making itself known.


    ¡°It is only through violence that I would gain an audience with whom is needed.¡±


    His ear flicked, irritation and impatience pushing his temper. ¡°You resigned yourself to silence unless a High Quesitar would hear your plea?¡±


    Movement. A parched tongue wetting dried lips on a snubbed muzzle. Her words creaked forth. ¡°I remained silent lest my statement be rejected and dismissed by those who judge my words by origin, rather than content.¡±


    ¡°And you feel that a change in listener would validate your claims?¡±


    ¡°I felt one who specialized in detection of deceit was required.¡±


    ¡°Then why¡ª¡°


    The slightest hint of a lost smile formed on the pale-furred female. ¡°¡ªYour belief would be immutable. Who better to trust than one who seeks only falsehood in the words of one he speaks with? Who would deny the accreditation of one who seeks to discredit?¡±


    ¡°...You wish to be caught lying?¡±


    She blinked, the deadened stare shifting slightly. ¡°I wish for one who will twist and bend my answers into unrecognizable states, and yet still fail to find fabrication.¡±


    He exchanged a doubtful look with his assistant as he released the button. ¡°She is clearly unstable.¡±


    Illia paused her transcription, anxiously rubbing one paw with the other. ¡°Regardless of if we think so...¡±


    ¡°She must still be questioned, and her tale deconstructed,¡± he finished dryly. He cycled a breath and referenced the female¡¯s claimed identity.


    A Special Tactics Officer. They were almost as classified as his own station, deployed only when the objective required unwavering dedication to a singular outcome. They were chosen regardless of origin, health, or experience, relying on advanced and obfuscated metrics to assign soldiers of any division to their ranks. Each ¡®wave¡¯ of them was a mixed assortment that was shuffled and arranged with little regard for the companionship or relationships formed.


    It was for those who were too eccentric to fit seamlessly with the rest of their kin, yet would become regarded as amongst the unparalleled in their field because of it. A melting pot of sorts, churning out naught but results and corpses.


    How fitting for a defective to be a part of it...


    She was right about one thing; he despised the tainted filth separated from him by structure and duty, just as any who had the displeasure of occupying the same room as her ilk¡ªthe Hunt Mother¡¯s disowned. Every one of them was a stain on the population, polluting the air with their stagnate stench and were rightfully deprived of the gift. He would do his task as required of him, then condemn the failure of a being to the Void where she belongs.


    That was only appropriate for one who was spurned by the goddess...yet she played the part of one who was broken regardless. Perfectly. It was almost as if the ludicrous statements on his screen carried truth.


    He hovered his claw over the intercom, a scowl forming as he was forced by his station to listen to the inane ramblings which would no doubt pour from the female like a sickly ichor.


    No matter, all he needed was a lie. One single tell of deception, then she would be removed while their people celebrated the end of war and were welcomed into the Union, benefiting from multiple species and countless centuries of technology unknown. Of paths untraveled by those unmet. They would be given territory to expand their influence. They would ford the waters of progress, upheld by their predecessors and aided by advances gleaned from tolerated cosmic neighbours.


    All of that was placed in jeopardy because of one female who was cast aside by the Hunt Mother, yet prayed for her blessings. One female who deserted her station, then came crashing back without remorse. One female who claimed to hold the truth while also asserting to have gained the impossible.


    All he needed was one. Single. Lie.


    He pressed the button.


    ¡°Identify yourself.¡±


    The female straightened her limp posture slightly. ¡°Second wave Special Tactics Officer¡ªdesignation ¡®Demo.¡¯ Authorization code four-six-four-nine, Iras branch of the United Military.¡±


    ¡°Why did you alter the course of the evacuation shuttle to target the base?¡±


    A ghost of a wry smile appeared on her face. ¡°How else would I be speaking with you?¡±


    He ignored the snide remark¡ªif she was willing to all but commit suicide for a message, then insanity was already a likely factor. ¡°Why do you accuse our prospective allies of such heinous crimes?¡±


    The smirk was gone, emotion emptying from her expression to leave only detachment behind. ¡°Because they have committed them.¡±


    ¡°Yet you bring only scraps of purported ¡®evidence¡¯ to support your claims?¡±


    ¡°I have nothing else but my form, and that has been stripped as well.¡±


    The brown-furred male frowned, a long exhale needed to dismiss his frustration. ¡°Be that as it may, your actions and words have drawn both the attention and the ire of the United Military. All that separates you from the Void is excess caution on the part of my superiors, and as such, you will be allowed to state your case in an effort to assert your choices as ¡®necessary.¡¯ Failing that, there will be no trial; you will be executed.¡±


    The pale-furred female nodded, albeit weakly.


    Heroon nodded to his assistant. ¡°Then we will begin with the first aberration: your disappearance from the base.¡± He eyed the contained STO, then started the programs to analyze everything from her cadence to her scent. ¡°You may begin.¡±


    = = = = =


    She walked to her room in the base after her deployment, the season amongst her ship-pack having gone better than any before it.


    They had been tasked with dismantling an outpost occupied by those clinging to old grudges, and the appearance of new intelligent life did little to put their views into perspective. The group refused to unite with their others because of the insignificant visual difference which once was the catalyst of countless wars¡ªa problem for many diplomatic reasons, and so they were expected to solve it. Once the issue had been resolved, there was a lengthy trip back to command for debriefing, then a rest period until she was assigned a new rotation.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    She never minded the constant shuffling of her unit since they never remained with the same group for long, but it would be a lie to say she didn¡¯t wish for someone to voice their remorse at her reassignment. This time was different however, for she was happy on the way to her residence. She had made a friend!


    Recon was a polite male, if a touch brash and terse. Regardless, he spoke to her with sincerity and kindness, disregarding her condition with a smile as they conversed. He had been the only one who chose to approach her in quite some time, honestly. Out of numerous deployments and countless soldiers, the male was the first to seek her company beyond the confines of the assignment. Given that she was inexperienced with personalizing, one could hardly blame her for being...overenthusiastic and jumping to the incorrect conclusion.


    Her advances were shut down with firm certainty, yet thankfully delivered in the same understanding tone he always used with her; he would never be interested in a defect that way, and he did not hold such an interest in her.


    The drone she made for him was clutched to her chest as she thanked him for his honesty and apologised for her misunderstanding, the optical aerial unit creaking in her clutches. She had heard his laments about his personal gadget being irreparably damaged during the mission, and so crafted a replacement which could detonate as an offensive option¡ªor in the event of unfortunate signal loss, destroy itself to deny an enemy the equipment.


    The rejection hurt, but even if things had not gone as well as she might have liked, she was still pleased to have someone to reliably speak with. It was unfortunate that he had been quite busy during the rest of the return trip, but she occupied herself by humming and wondering if he would like to eat together regularly once they were back.


    Such ponderings were woefully short-lived.


    The moment they landed at the base, Recon left without a word and immediately applied for another ship-pack, refusing to spare even a single glance at the female who foolishly took kindness for something more. She thought it odd, but he did seem rather motivated, so perhaps he was one who preferred to be active in the force. No matter, she would be able to spend some time with him before he departed again, and that was enough to keep her spirits light.


    Her room presented itself when she opened the entryway, the confines offering space to collect or tinker as much as she could ever wish to. The other three expected occupants dared not deign to share it with her¡ªthey elected for other accommodations, taking bed with those they found more tolerable. She had long since accepted it, but returning to the emptiness after letting herself be swept away by thoughts of companionship carried with it a new sense of loss. It felt even more devoid now that she knew a glimpse of otherwise, her stubborn imagination picturing how it would look with others¡¯ possessions.


    Chemicals and electronics populated the entirety of the wall-mounted desk designed to support more than the single explosives expert that stocked it. The broad bed remained undisturbed, save for a single slight indent on the edge where she slept. Documentation and notes lay strewn on the floor from her hasty packing¡ªmost denoting the properties of various materials to tailor her prepared supplies based on what she was expected to work against. A thin layer of dust covered everything, even the recessed slot on the inside of the door.


    It was a painful reminder that none dared display the slightest amount of concern for her while she was away.


    No one would come and add their own items to the mess. No one would clean the space, nor complain when the others failed to as well. No one would check to see if she had returned, nor welcome her back. No one would even think to rouse her from her rest in the event she overslept¡ªnot that she ever did, but knowing someone would care enough to save her the lecture would have been nice.


    The only benefit of the situation was that she knew no one had stolen or sabotaged her projects, yet even that carried a sting of ostracization; it was but one more affirmation that she wasn¡¯t even worth the effort of harassment. Somehow that was worse.


    Yet she smiled anyway, forcing the expression while taking in the space which was hers before going about the task of getting settled in again.


    She unpacked and began picking up and organizing the papers scattered about the room, placing them where they belonged and pausing when she reached an empty space for a terminal. The thought of purchasing another crossed her mind, but after the previous device was locked out of the network by a Tech she had unknowingly annoyed, she had been too disheartened to bother with it. Since then, the disabled unit rotted in a cupboard. A new one would likely face the same fate, but the possibility of her newfound friendship resulting in more was enough to ponder it. The idea was mentally added to things she would consider.


    The notes on explosives were tidied up and placed next to the physical forms they detailed, sorted by type and method of activation. She brushed off the desk and moved to her closet to put away clothing, her two spare uniforms being joined by a third. Her eyes lingered on the sequential increase in rank on each of them, yet knowing they were assigned by an algorithm tracking her deployments and successful missions sapped any pride. If a superior were to actually view her record, then perhaps she might outrank most of those at the base, but she simply resolved herself to do better and earn their attention.


    At least she could skip the more monotonous events and focus on her hobby. She still attended several presentations if they were interesting or if she felt the need to be included in something, but it often led to shortened talks and frowning faces, thus why she devoted herself to her role most of the time.


    Her projects never complained about her involvement, nor did they refuse to function because of who worked on them. She could distract herself until the isolation became too much, or until she was summoned for a deployment, and then she would take the most applicable of her developments to test them properly. The results were always worth the moon after moon of effort. They needed to be, because nothing else would justify her position.


    Once things were about as orderly as they were going to get, she debated fetching something to eat from the cafeteria, a small part of her mind revisiting the idea of joining Recon before he left again. Her rations were still good for a while, but although they would keep her going, they were never intended to be pleasant. They were perfectly acceptable when under fire and lacking sleep, but were a needless punishment when neither was the case.


    The debate rolled over in her mind, eventually adding a third aspect to the argument¡ªthe fact that she needed to bathe. With most of the base welcoming back the others, they were likely getting something to nourish themselves, so that left her some time to get the dirt and freshly acquired dust out of her fur while the facilities were empty. If all went well, it would allow her a small window where her scent was mostly inoffensive, then she could perhaps join a table and fill her stomach without worry of reprisal. Perhaps Recon would introduce her to the others he was fond of as well. Perhaps she could finally make more friends.


    Yes, bathing should be first!


    Her plan decided, she gathered her toiletries and set out with a spring in her step.


    - - - - -


    Drying herself was always the most time-consuming part of bathing, but a much needed one all the same¡ªdampness was uncomfortable, and water would soak into the sheets if she ignored it. Not the end of the world, but unpleasant nonetheless. Air-dryers were avoided for much the same reason she refrained from lingering in most public spaces; her scent remained if she dwelled in one area for too long, and blowing it around would only expedite the process. Thus, towels were the method of choice, and she was quick to deposit them in the designated receptacle before getting dressed.


    Pleased that everything had only taken as long as was necessary, she made her way to the cafeteria feeling fresh and excited. It was rare that the base was eating all at once, and if Recon was nowhere to be seen, then she intended to at least succeed in having a conversation with someone.


    The chances of said success almost audibly died out as she entered the canteen.


    Recon could be seen amongst the tables, spinning the tale of his cruellest deployment to date. He gestured broadly and laughed, grimaced and nodded. He was the centre of attention, and it was all in response to hearing of the male who suffered the company of a defect for suns upon suns, forced to endure by the order of his betters. He systematically went through every interaction while his audience voiced their sympathy and laughed at his misfortune.


    The greeting that surprised her so much that she stuttered? A disgusting experience where he bit his tongue to weather the scent. The calm conversations about why they chose their roles? Tedious drivel spouted by one who was so disturbed as to find playing with death to be preferable to her kin. The heartfelt confession about her past? Amusing tales of the disowned getting what they deserved.


    The offer that required suns of building confidence, sleepless moons to manufacture a gift, and the admittance of affection she risked her heart for?


    He spat his distaste and disgust at the thought, proclaiming he would rather his manhood be severed and warning all others that even tolerance of her presence carried the risk of them being the focus of her ¡®obsession.¡¯


    She didn¡¯t notice the tears falling to the floor as her mental distancing from the rejection collapsed. The rationalization which had formed in her mind¡ªthat she had simply read too deeply into kindness and she would use the chance to finally find companionship¡ªno longer shielded her from reality.


    Someone noticed her, followed by another, then more. Countless eyes turned towards the pale-furred female standing in the doorway, row after row of rueful gazes and muzzles of every shape twisting in repulsion. Recon raised a brow at his no longer captive audience, then turned to see what had stolen his spotlight. His voice¡ªonce soft, kind, and understanding¡ªnow carried a bitter hatred as he directed it at her, utilizing the name she was forbidden from disclosing, yet told him in confidence.


    ¡°Sunundra. Have you come to offer yourself again? If so, could you wait until I have eaten? I would much rather vomit than go through dry and painful retching.¡±


    Perhaps it was the laughing that finalized things for her, or maybe the shared sentiments expressed by the rest, but her little sandcastle of self-delusion came crashing down under the waves of antagonistic expressions.


    She was not welcome. She never was. She never would be.


    The pale-furred female didn¡¯t have the strength to accept it before, always clinging to hopes and prayer that each sun would be the one she was looked upon favourably, yet the world wanted to make sure she knew how foolish such desires were.


    So she ran, though there was no destination in mind as her blurry vision and choked sobbing distorted her perception, her form nearly colliding into others. She shot through the the corridors at a full sprint to escape that which she was the source of. Hallway after hallway, turn after turn, she continued, desperate to outrun her sorrow.


    She just wanted somewhere to belong. She wanted someone who accepted her and could look past the cursed biology she was born with. She wanted to avoid the hatred that tore her den to ruin, then followed her for the rest of her life.


    Each step unearthed new memories that were suppressed to protect her fragile sense of self, each laboured breath making them more vivid. By the time she collapsed from exhaustion, she was still going full speed, her legs giving up and sending her tumbling through a mostly closed doorway. She remained crumpled on the ground, too spent to vocalize her cries, but too torn by suffering to stop the attempts. It reached a point where her stomach sought to provide where her sobbing could not, her heaving only adding acid to the shimmer of liquid agony on the floor.


    Every sun of holding hope had been met with thunderous blows of disappointment, and every moon she spent bettering herself yielded no progress in being greeted with smiles, no matter how hard she tried.


    And it was hard. It was hard to force the smile that she needed to wear, lest a frown turn away a potential conversation. It was difficult to align her schedule in a way that didn¡¯t needlessly draw the ire of others. It was excruciating when she finally managed to speak with someone for any time at all, only to have the fleeting moments of elation shed and peel away as even her most thorough bathing and perfumes faded, her defective scent returning.


    Recon¡¯s kind words were a needle slipped between her weary defences, then his actual feelings tore her asunder, her weak heart turning weapon against her.


    She bit back the last of her sadness, the petitioning of her goddess giving her something to hold on to.


    ¡°O¡¯Mother of this soul, your faithful is in need of you, for she cannot continue on her own. Your faithful asks forgiveness for her weakness and requests of you your mercy, for your trials set before her have led not to promised salves and tender touch, but ripping scorn and scoured heart. Your faithful begs for guidance, for she knows not her way when the Void calls ever stronger¡­¡±


    The pit in her stomach deepened, the years of hope failing to blunt the futility of her expectations. If she was approachable, if she was understanding, if she performed her duties well¡­ She would be rewarded, no? Someone would see the aching loneliness within her and look beyond her condition¡­ Someone would. It was what she told herself after every sun of failure and every attempt to connect with another making no progress. Each blow to her psyche let the cold blackness that beckoned her seep between the cracks. At some point, she began yearning for it as well, as it was the only thing that wanted her.


    But that would make light of her struggles, and she couldn¡¯t quite bring herself to do it. She was close¡ªoh so agonizingly close¡ªbut she would carry on just a little longer. Surely, something would become of her efforts. She couldn¡¯t take much more otherwise...


    ¡°O¡¯Mother of this soul, your faithful needs your kindness, for the world has none to give her. Your faithful shall be patient, for she knows your blessing belongs not to the rash or the reliant, but to those who bear your affection in all forms. Your faithful shall endure, for she shall await the reward for her piety, and rest beside you when she is worthy. Though vacant in heart and bruised in body, your faithful will be waiting.¡±


    She drew one last breath, finishing as she always did when the tribulations of existence made the vacant embrace of the Void ever so tempting.


    ¡°O¡¯Mother of this soul, your faithful begs for acceptance. Through patience and strong will, she dedicates herself to your design in hopes of another. Until your need for her arrives, she awaits.¡±


    She let her voice linger, the very first request ever made with her blood-mother giving her the strength needed to persevere. Only when the pain in her abdomen outweighed her thoughts did she bother rolling over to check where she had ended up.


    Though deserted, the previous administration office loomed over her supine form. Old boards still hosted bulletins placed there years ago, desks remained unoccupied as a newer construction housed the staff, and terminals left for public access provided a slight glow where the lights from the halls failed to reach. She forced air down her raw throat and collected herself enough to sit, then braced upon a table to stand.


    Her withering mind reached for the sense of nostalgia as a shield to hide behind, taking her back to the decade prior where she had stood in almost the same place, her ever-present smile and unyielding optimism having yet to bear the brunt of life with her condition.


    She had experienced the distance of society, true, but where the civilian sector sought nothing of her, the military promised comrades regardless of who she was. The military promised units and ship-packs¡ªpeople who would support her and undoubtedly become friends or lovers. She would sign up, receive her training, then overcome the trials that the Hunt Mother set out for her.


    ¡­Such left her too hopeful to notice the stoic expressions tugging back scowls as she supplied her information, too excited to question the poor excuses her roommates gave for moving out, and too convinced of the promises to suspect they would never be fulfilled.


    Having joined to seek others who would welcome her, she had yet to find a single one, and only after the years continued did she really feel the weight of it and come to realize that those expectations would never be met.


    She lethargically took a seat, idly entering her credentials in hopes of applying to a deployment instead of weathering more time at the base. She lacked the strength to endure more isolation, and although the company would be forced by proximity, it was company all the same.


    Notifications sat in her messages, unchecked because her personal terminal had been denied access to the network and she hardly saw the need to come here before; all she ever received was automated invitations to events she was never welcome to. Her eyes skimmed over the abbreviated contents out of habit, stopping on one which was directed to every member of the military.


    It was in response to a request made by the Union; they sought defects to participate in a program designed to determine if Lilhuns were able to coexist with their interstellar neighbours. She knew of the testing taking place on a borderworld, but was uninterested in the details since her people decided that defects were unfit to represent them. The project had been running for years, yet it seemed the divergence that defectives exhibited had been noticed, and the Union sought to quell curiosity before further progress in diplomacy could be made.


    She would have simply ignored it, but a very specific line captured her attention: they claimed to have determined a procedure to correct the defect in those affected, and simply required willing individuals to undergo it.


    Her budding elation was swiftly cut as she realized the military wouldn¡¯t let her go; she was no longer a civilian, and was in a position which was privy to classified information, no matter how limited that was. A note added by command cited that there would be units deployed to oversee the transports as well, which meant she would be noticed if anyone from the base was selected.


    Yet when her eyes fell on a time and location that participants would be expected to arrive at, she swallowed, ignoring the taste of bile as she weighed her options.


    She was being presented with the reward she so desperately sought, but at the cost of all the progress she had made over the years. On the one paw, her participation would involve covertly leaving the base, then trusting her life to aliens. On the other paw, this could be the Hunt Mother¡¯s reward for her unending patience and diligence.


    A chill swept her bones at the thought of even more years of worthless struggling. There was hardly a choice at all.


    She cleaned the mess that had been made in her sorrow, returned to her room, then prepared everything she would need. Rations would be compact and light, she didn¡¯t own much clothing, and any remaining space in her bag was to be filled by materials for a wide variety of projects¡ªmost very much explosive. Given that the rate of cultural and scientific exchange was rather slow while they prioritized basic societal compatibility, she was hoping to explain the items as something she used for entertainment. They were, in a way, because tinkering with them had long since become her only reprieve.


    But if it was decided that she had nefarious intentions, then that could strip her of her right to treatment...


    The gift she prepared for Recon caught her eye before she closed her bag. She was unwilling to part with the things that kept her sane, and the drone was simply a thing to tinker with. Nothing more¡­


    When moonrise came and most of the base was busy elsewhere, she looked back at the room that she alone had occupied. It was neatly kept and the bed was freshly made. All of the possessions which she had not the capacity to carry were carefully stacked so that whomever was to come in after her would have little issue using the space. Hopefully, she would return before it was noticed, healed and able to do what she had spent years without success in. Though, even if they questioned her absence, she doubted any would care to look.


    The strange shuttle arrived shortly after sunrise, her excitement pushing her past her need for rest and the empty state her stomach remained in. She didn¡¯t question why the location was unguarded despite the standing orders; she was too enamoured with the idea that her piety had finally been met to find the insult hidden within the negligence. No, the gentle tug of acceleration as she was sent to her salvation was all that occupied her thoughts.


    In a dazed blur of expectation, she was presented with a translation device of some sort, her belongings were taken to where she would be residing to recover, and she was escorted to an examination room for preliminary assessment. She ignored the alien forms and unknown technologies, remaining purely focused on where she was needed next, eager to complete the process as fast as possible. They guided her through everything with a monotonous electronic voice that the translator projected into her ear and into something that looked like a sensory deprivation chamber.


    She complied upon being asked to disrobe and enter the device, obediently breathing deeply when the cover closed and a hiss filled the dark containment, tears of joy staining her cheeks as her voice cracked.


    ¡°O¡¯Mother of this soul, your faithful weeps in her gratitude, for her devotion and perseverance has been answered. Your faithful will finally be accepted¡­¡±

 Chapter 2

    The male raised a brow at his assistant, her shrug meeting his own skepticism. ¡°You mean to claim that your disappearance was due to the pursuit of an unproven medical procedure provided by aliens we are still in the process of learning about? You had no proof such would work, yet gnawed at the shackle to receive it. You also abandoned your duty to do so.¡±


    The contained female barely flinched. ¡°Where was hope supposed to stem from when even breath proved too great a struggle? I am aware it was foolish, but they offered what my own could not. I accepted the risk willingly.¡±


    Heroon exhaled. ¡°And after the operation?¡±


    = = = = =


    Sunundra awoke, but not in the chamber she had vague memories of, nor any recovery room that would be expected¡ªthough that meant little when the extent of modifications to her form were unknown. Truthfully, she hadn¡¯t asked how the procedure was done, nor questioned much at all; she just moved from place to place with alacrity and was too busy holding back tears of joy to doubt anything.


    All she recalled was being carried through blurry hallways as the anaesthetic pulled a thick wool over her perception of moments fading in and out, and agreeing to participate in a cohabitation trial as payment for the procedure¡ªa price that even now seemed far too lenient. Pressure on her arms had suggested that others were supporting most of her weight, but she barely had the cognizance to pay it much mind at the time, nor notice the subtle pain that radiated from every part of her body at once.


    Said pain returned as she rolled on what appeared to be a fairly small bed, though it was still blissfully dulled. A loose inspection of her body unveiled no cuts or sutures, her head was as unmarred as before, and the sting wasn¡¯t localized to any particular region. Either the procedure was incredibly noninvasive, or any incisions were done internally, such as her nasal cavity or the like. Regardless, it was possibly more important to determine her whereabouts than ponder that which she had no answer to.


    A few blinks cleared her vision enough to pick out the environment, pale grey walls and ceiling contrasted by a soft carpeting similar in colour to her front. The faded pastel yellow was an odd choice, but alien architecture may very well call for alien interior decorating as well. Four walls constructed the rectangular room, a flat ceiling feeling somewhat suffocating with how low it was, but there was plenty of space before she could touch it, she supposed. Perhaps it could be reached from atop the bed?


    Her eyes fell to the furniture she was occupying. The boxy resting spot was fairly soft and seemed to be of two parts; the top was spongy, while the bottom was a solid wood of some kind, though a strange brownish-yellow as opposed to any reds she was used to. It matched the rest of the assorted items in the room, but it hardly fit the ¡®scientific¡¯ aesthetic one might expect. A standing closet sat in a corner, the slightly open door offering little knowledge other than that it was empty. A...cabinet? No, it was an old design of dresser, wide and rife with drawers for storage, two cupboards on the lower half allowing space for larger items.


    A desk followed the strange obsession with rectangular shapes, two legs supporting the front of the surface whereas the back was mounted to the wall. A chair with wheels at the base and a curvy backrest struck her as poorly designed until she realized that it was likely designed for species without tails.


    All the sharp angles and focus on ease of manufacturing irked her somewhat; having grown used to sheer ergonomic design and a philosophy of using as little material as possible made everything appear dreadfully wasteful. She expected things to be adjustable or modular to allow varying sizes of Lilhun¡ªor in this case, species¡ªto comfortably work atop the surfaces or store whatever they like, but the focus here was quite obviously a ¡®one size fits none¡¯ mentality.


    She exhaled slowly so as not to aggravate the dull throbbing in her head and got off the bed, frowning when there was an uncomfortable thud of her digitigrade ankle hitting the solid surface of the frame. A new ache added to the rest, she dropped the slight distance to the floor and began further inspections, ignoring the obvious exit until an understanding of her current surroundings had been reached.


    If nothing else, the simplistic design of everything allowed little to be misconstrued. It was a boxy room with equally boxy furniture, given ingress by a boxy door. The knob was spherical, so at least that was a change of pace. A giggle escaped her lips as the dregs of her chemically induced rest filtered through her system. That, or she was still riding the elation of her prayers being answered.


    ...She paused while laughing at the pitiful impracticality of the dresser, closing the empty drawer with a forced silence.


    She... She was fixed now, right? She could approach others, right? There was no reason to meticulously plan her sun to avoid as many people as possible...right? It was over?


    No more twisted scowls as her strongest perfumes wore off woefully early? No more bitter dismissals to polite greetings? No more exaggerated gagging when all she wanted to do was eat? No more locking herself away for suns at a time in fear of aggravating friends she had yet to meet?


    Pain flared as the last of the drugs keeping it down faded, yet her tears and cries were filled with joy, the ripping agony only a secondary concern. She could talk to people without them ending conversations as soon as they were able! She could touch another without being met by revulsion! Every bitter memory washed against the sands of her new revelation, eroding to the inconsequential as hope replaced them with glimmering golds and stunning silvers. Her oceans of sorrow cleared to waters of prosperity, promises unfulfilled returning to smile down upon her.


    She was fixed... Her defective body was no more. If such treatments were to cost every bit of her savings, then she would still happily pay it. For it to be in exchange for her time and assisting her people¡¯s acquisition of an ally? In exchange for this temporary physical suffering?


    Well, that was hardly a price at all.


    She glanced around the room through gasped breaths, finding her bag to be deposited at the foot of the bed on the floor. Her everything screamed its protest as she crawled, yet it was drowned out by brighter thoughts. The painkillers were a must-have item, and several doses had been packed for various applications. The one she needed first was a short-activation injection, the cover of the syringe popping off before the rest plunged into her thigh. The agony dulled instantly, allowing her a moment to dig out a longer lasting solution. The clear patch she fetched was small, but potent. A claw placed it under her tongue, holding it there for the moment or two required before it sealed to the flesh.


    Heartbeats passed until all that remained was a slight discomfort. It was unwise to use too many of her supplies¡ªthough overdosing was hardly a concern, building a tolerance would be counterproductive. Pain sorted and her initial joy tempering to a generally pleasant disposition, she mused unpacking, but there was still a chance this was a strange waiting area. She opted to put everything back in her bag for now, then see what lay beyond the confines of the room.


    The knob clicked out an odd tone, but the way forward opened all the same. Instead of hallways or a reception area, she was greeted by another room that took design cues from the previous, though was quite a bit larger.


    A wide couch of sorts was in the middle of the room, facing a screen that continued the rectangular theme. At least the seating had more gentle slopes and radii, making it look actually somewhat comfortable. A table with some stiffer chairs was placed against the far wall next to an archway leading to another area. There were three other doors, but one sported a different material, so that was likely the exit. The remaining two revealed a bedroom much like the one she awoke in, and a bathing area that had a rigid toilet. Something of a kitchen rested beyond the archway, though she decided to leave the details to be discovered later; cupboards and tall appliances were enough information for now.


    Curiosity sated, the next step was to access the exit, but she could only frown when there didn¡¯t seem to be a method to open it. The other doors all had knobs, and though they were inferior to vertical slats with pressure-sensitive levers, they were infinitely more usable than the flat metal surface she was met with now.


    Her attention was drawn back to the ¡®main¡¯ area which acted as a hub for the rest. A small table was in front of the couch, and various shelving was installed on the grey walls, but for all the storage it offered, she didn¡¯t have much to put there. All in all, it struck her as a small den, which could very well be the intention. It was both exciting and disappointing that she was locked in for some reason, because it had been her dream for a long time to have a den to call her own.


    She could almost picture others meandering around the room and spending time together, smiling faces beckoning her forth to participate in whatever activity caused the playful atmosphere. The beds were too small for any typical sleeping arrangement, but if both she had access to were placed together, they could likely fit four people on it. Not terribly accommodating for most Lilhun dens, but acceptable enough for her, since she had long since stopped praying for too much and resigned herself to even a single other to share with. The assumed limit of four was already beyond her wildest dreams at this point.


    Yet she was fixed, and allowed herself the small greed of imagining a den-pack large enough to find such circumstances to be insufficient. A giggle was stifled by her paw as she wondered if however the cohabitation worked would allow her to finally know what it was to rest with others, a bead of warmth growing in her chest.


    The other race occupying the space might need the other bed though... That brought her hopeful maximum of den-mates to rest with closer to maybe three¡ªstill more than she would have wished, but less than absolutely possible, which was a minor letdown.


    There also existed the possibility that the aliens might desire the second bed themselves, but for the sake of diplomacy¡ªand repaying the kindness shown¡ªa flat bedding would be possible if they were given the appropriate materials. Then the uppermost limit would be however many would fill the floor, and she would happily accept that!


    Speaking of aliens or a den-pack, she had yet to encounter either in the den provided to her¡ªassuming this was indeed where they were to reside for the duration of her participation. It reminded her that she also wasn¡¯t sure how long that would be...


    No matter! Just the prospect of what awaited her after this was enough to dismiss her concern swiftly. If nothing else, then she wished that the aliens were polite and would refrain from making a fuss. That way they could all return to their people and begin broader cooperation with the Union. A part of her worried that they might be particularly revolting, but the memory of being the one others regarded with such faces sobered her thoughts.


    Regardless, there would at least be an effort to politely distance herself; it was the bare minimum she had always wanted, and none would humour such wishes before. She was understanding of that. If all went well, then their new allies would appreciate the sentiment, and she might even be credited for her tact.


    Her exit locked and general surroundings explored, all that remained was to return to the room she assumed was assigned to her people. Her possessions were unpacked while being mindful to leave apt space for the possible three others. Wishful thinking or not, just looking at her neat and orderly display of things next to the empty sections brought a tickle to her heart.


    She couldn¡¯t wait to meet the others.


    = = = = =


    The High Quesitar ordered a break, Illia thanking him with a smile as they sent a request for food to be provided. The beige-furred female clenched and flexed her paws to work out the mild discomfort from working on a physical transcription while Heroon simply stretched his back, sore from leaning forward to speak into the intercom.


    For all that the captive STO had mentioned, very little of it had much to do with specifics of the aliens involved, nor even where on the temporarily shared border-planet the events took place. Something that irked him even more was that not a single readout of his equipment picked up any spikes to indicate a falsehood¡ªwhich both worried him and gave some measure of credibility to the limited happenings described.


    To willingly submit one¡¯s form to the machinations of an alien people was already a questionable decision¡ªto do so only to awake as a captive was just plain alarming. Yet the female seemed ecstatic at the time, her primary concern being how many den-mates she would be accommodating.


    As far as he could gather, she genuinely found nothing suspicious about it, only her slight inflection revealing that she was saddened by her assumptions proving to be incorrect in the end. A curious take on things, but not unexpected once one considered her condition.


    His musing was disrupted by a panel opening in the containment¡¯s table, a basic meal presented to the allegedly broken female. He watched with an observant gaze as she barely acknowledged it, having since returned to the corpse-like posture she had assumed when he initially saw her. His and Illia¡¯s food was delivered by paw, though done through a hidden airlock in the wall by the door. His den-mate was kind enough to fetch it for them.


    They ate in relative silence as he mulled over what he heard so far, idly navigating his terminal with a claw while he connected timelines and reports together to make a cohesive narrative.


    True to her assertion, the disappearance of the defect in the base went unnoticed until she was required for a deployment, and even then it was only because the STO had never missed a summons previously. The grievance was filed by her direct superior, though the language used was a very professional phrasing of ¡®thank the goddess she¡¯s gone,¡¯ followed by a request for another demolition expert to be supplied. There wasn¡¯t even an investigation put in, disregarding the one that listed both start and end times within a breath of each other¡ªthe result of someone simply submitting the corresponding triggers in sequence without bothering to pretend something was actually done.


    The female left without a soul noticing, arrived at a location that the military couldn¡¯t be bothered to actually supervise¡ªpresumably due to the same lack of concern for defectives present in the aforementioned ¡®search¡¯¡ªand was missing for quite a while until even that was shrugged off.


    Normally, he wouldn¡¯t care much, but his station required him to highlight all of it and submit it for review and correction. If he wasn¡¯t under so many layers of obfuscation and procedures, he might have worried about others leering at him for making their protocols tighter. As things were, he would just shake his head as the ranks were dragged over the coals for negligence.


    He wiped off his paws with the provided cleaning wipe before depositing it with the rest of the recyclable items, his hunger sated for the time being. Illia was finished a short while after, tossing her things in with his then depositing it in the appropriate receptacle for processing. She stretched her arms out and resumed her stance, nodding that she was ready to continue.


    His attention returned to the unmoving female, letting a light sigh out at her food remaining as it was, untouched and ignored. He elected to leave it there for now on the off chance that she might find an appetite later. He doubted it, but it was the small considerations such as that which might encourage otherwise stalwart denials to let slip truth. He reached out to the intercom once more.


    ¡°You mentioned being ¡®fixed¡¯ and ruminating about arrangements for others to reside in the den provided, yet have failed to elaborate past that. I would like to hear about the others of our kind you stayed with.¡±


    The grey and yellow-furred female remained unmoving, only her muzzle shifting for speech and a sardonic smirk. ¡°I never claimed there to be any.¡±


    The High and Assistant Quesitars shared a look. ¡°The operation was a ruse?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she whispered. ¡°It worked, just not as I had hoped.¡±


    He referenced his readouts with a frown. ¡°Explain.¡±


    = = = = =


    She blinked herself awake once more, her waning optimism disregarded in favour of applying another numbing patch to her tongue. The pain had lessened over the suns, but it was still enough to debilitate her if management of it was neglected. She glanced at a small display on the wall acting as an unreliable timepiece of sorts.


    The almost invisible panel presented a symbol that was presumably a three. It would roughly correlate to how many times she had fallen asleep in the den, but her internal clock disagreed with the supposed count. There was a chance that it tracked how often she rested, but it also seemed to increment for no discernible reason, so that theory was disregarded. Her recovery was briefly pondered to be the culprit for a potential sun count not matching what she suspected, but the lack of windows or any other cyclical illumination was beginning to mess with any attempts to keep track.


    The lights in the room remained off from the ¡®moon¡¯ prior, the missing supplemental glow present in any Lilhun construction leaving her with no guess as to how long she had been sleeping this time. The lights from the main room subtly bled through a crack beneath the door, so she wasn¡¯t completely blind, but her vision was still rather hindered. Thankfully, it was enough to put on the clothing hung in the closet to dry.


    The bath here was actually more of a shower¡ªwhich suited her just fine, honestly. It made washing her garments tedious, but until she could divine a somehow unnoticed appliance to perform the task, she was fine with using the smaller basin and spigot to clean her few articles.


    Once she was dressed and had put away the fragments of tinkering which remained from the moon before, a smile spread at seeing the room equally as ready for new occupants as it was the first time she cleaned it. The smile faltered as she pushed down the feeling of isolation, but still she held faith, setting about her self-assigned tasks in hopes that this would be the sun to meet the others. At this point, even greeting the aliens would be welcome. Sure, some aspects of their communication or expectations may be incompatible, but anything would help distract her from the tugging in her chest.


    Her expression was firmly placed back to what it should be. There would be nothing but shame in forgetting the basics, especially now that she might finally show results for all her practice.


    The kitchen was more complicated than she initially suspected, but well stocked for what it was. Various meats had been tried in small amounts to account for possible allergies to the unknown animals, and she even sampled the strange vegetables and fruit. More familiar offerings were present, but ignoring something new felt like a disservice to whomever provided it. The only disliked items so far were the somewhat fluffy, yeasty things, and that was due to the stomach ache it gave her. She had waited each bout out and tried the variants, but the results remained the same.


    Since it was more or less determined that a few of the options were perfectly edible, she selected some and prepared a simple meal, eating it at the table in the main room and cleaning up when she was done. The machine for washing her plates and oddly shaped cutlery was amusing to watch, so she did, then fetched one of her less messy projects to work on while lounging on the couch.


    Thus repeated the events she had spent the last two or so suns doing. Her ears pivoted and twitched, looking for the sounds of someone approaching the door or traversing the possible halls beyond it, but either the soundproofing was excellent, or few had reason to come near.


    The pang of loneliness hit hard enough to bypass her moment of reflection, ignoring the painkillers and optimism she held close to her bruised heart.


    How much longer would it be until she met her den-pack? Did the others hear of her previous condition and assume nothing had been done? Was she to call out and alert someone that she was ready? Was she under observation to watch for side effects?


    If it was the last one, then she supposed she could wait just a bit longer so that others might be saved from the plight of the defect, but she couldn¡¯t deny that it was beginning to become difficult to pretend that the perpetual silence wasn¡¯t getting to her.


    A crack between her paws snapped her ears forward, followed by her eyes searching for the source. The staged explosive she was working on had broken along a seam in her stress. Not a permanent problem, but one that would take some time to repair. She exhaled slowly as her mind went over the sequence.


    A thermal charge to rapidly heat a material, a ripper¡ªa series of small explosions¡ªto chip and distort, a sub-thermal charge to pull and rapidly cool, then a thumper to take advantage of the stress fractures. It was absolute overkill for most anything, but she had been curious about the minimum size such a breach-bomb could take the form of, and had so far managed to fit it into a package about as small as her stomach. Still larger than practical to use on deployment, but it was still in the conceptual phase, so she was certain she could get it down to about the dimensions of her paw. The main issue was getting both thermo-disruptors to detonate without subsequently¡ª


    A low-pitched screech jolted her in her seat, her scrambling only barely catching the explosive before it fell to the floor. It was still inert, but it only took one mistake like that to learn why you shouldn¡¯t drop bombs where you didn¡¯t intend to¡ªonce you did, it was hardly your problem anymore.


    She laid the project on the smaller table in front of the couch before the noise repeated, this time not causing her to do much more than flinch. She glanced at the doorway without a handle, text having populated an in-built display while she was busy.


    She read what was presented on the unexpected screen after all but leaping across the room, struggling through what appeared to be a rather poor translation of the original message. It cited a time based on an unfamiliar system, but a rough bit of math gave her an estimate to work with¡ªassuming she was correct on the numerals and the division of them.


    Regardless, it seemed that she was going to be sent to meet with others in a specific room, then she would be introduced to her cohabitants sometime after. Her estimations grew hazy for the second due to the first two numerals resetting for some reason, but that confusion was swiftly aside for now.


    The moment she confirmed that her assumptions regarding the numbers were correct, she blitzed back to her room, only barely remembering to tuck away the explosives before doing a final tidy, double-checking that she had nothing stuck in her teeth, then giving her fur a quick brush. She bounced on the pads of her feet in front of the door as the displayed time approached the first listing.


    - - - - -


    Despite her surprise, she accepted that there was an expectation of navigating the corridors unguided. Unorthodox, but it was arranged by aliens, and a map of directions had been supplied on the door before she was set loose on the unpopulated passageways. The idea of writing it down tempted her, but there would be little benefit; the instructions were easy enough to follow.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    While properly taking in the building during her walk, it became apparent that she was either quite close to the centre of a broad structure, or that she was exceptionally deep below the surface¡ªher memory providing nothing as far as an explanation besides vague and blurry snapshots before the procedure. That was fine. She had been fixed, and was more than happy to ask which way to go when needed.


    Strangely enough, there didn¡¯t seem to be much in the way of other rooms along the route, but she also wasn¡¯t particularly looking for them. Seams of flush doorways would be found if she bothered to really inspect the otherwise featureless walls, surely, yet now was not the time.


    Her traversal ended once she reached a dead end, the smooth finish on the narrow wall giving her little to work with. A video transmission device may have rested above in the corner, but with only the expectations of her own species¡¯ technology, it could very well have been anything. She wasn¡¯t given the chance to ponder it for long until the wall silently receded, two halves sliding sideways and revealing another room. The mechanism of the entrance was different from the inward swing that her temporary den used to access the rest of the building, but she supposed it would be more strange to never develop more than one way to open a door.


    The secrecy was somewhat strange however.


    The new area was surprisingly small, consisting of barely enough room to lay down in one direction, and maybe a bit more than twice that in the other. The only notable feature was that it was equally divided into two parts by a porous glass or plastic barrier.


    ¡®Porous¡¯ because it was visibly ventilated, but also because the slightly frosty translucence didn¡¯t seem to be due to any particular treatment, leaving her to wonder if it was the product of an additional layer. The back of her claw travelled smoothly over it, so she supposed that any extras were on the other side, or perhaps the glass-like divider was instead two thin sheets on either side of something. A tap of her claw against the surface suggested the latter.


    Her curious inspection was interrupted by excess light illuminating the room, a shadow showing on the icy pane in front of her. She choked back the explosive excitement¡ªeager to make a nice and calm first impression¡ªthen took a deep breath to relax herself, noting the dry quality of overly controlled air. Her smile threatened to slip after confirming that the only thing she could smell was the scent of sanitizers and sterile stagnation. Luckily, the other figure fully entering their side of the room was enough to put her smile back where it should be.


    Everything would be fine as long as she remembered to be polite, be respectful, use the proper honorifics, and even if it went poorly, she was fixed, and nothing said every new person would like her now. Even a single pleasant interaction would be the first step towards a lifetime of them.


    Her enthusiasm stalled as fear surfaced past her optimism.


    Why was she meeting them one at a time? Was this something of an interview process where she was the final applicant? What if they said no to her inclusion? Would she be forced to wait in her temporary den again? What if they were all looking for somewhere to stay, and would rather have nowhere than somewhere she resided? What if she as a person was equally repelling, her defect no longer acting as an early deterrent? Could she take the rejection? Could she stand to be alone?


    She closed her eyes and exhaled, picturing her worries leaving with the respiratory byproduct. She had been fixed. If she was the problem, then at least that was something that could be worked on. She regarded the silhouette with renewed confidence...


    ...Right as the male on the other side growled at her, his arm launching forward to scrape his claws against the glass. She didn¡¯t even get the chance to speak before he renewed his aggression, spitting obscenities and threats. It was only when she fell back onto her haunches in shock that he pounded on the exit in his side of the room, promptly being released and leaving only caustic muttering in his wake.


    She shook, wide-eyed and terrified, unknowing of what she did wrong. Never in her years has anyone been that upset with her defective nature. Sure, some would threaten or insult her, but those were out of disgust or irritation. It was never hate. It was never raw violence. She hadn¡¯t so much as greeted him before he erupted, and she typically managed at least some one-sided small talk before others grew too annoyed with her scent and left the vicinity. In fact, a good sun was often measured in how many people could exchange more than just a single salutation with her.


    She was fixed...right?


    Right. Of course she was. She had likely thrown away everything for this, and it made no sense for it all to collapse now. That male just had some unresolved misgivings, or perhaps had misunderstood something. Simple. It was not her fault.


    She got to her feet again and brushed off the nonexistent dust, settling the fur on her tail that had all but puffed out in her surprise. If nothing else, she would find out if these were to be potential den-mates, and would make an effort to be as understanding as possible. She would start small.


    A current of air and slight hiss made her ear flick from the disturbance, the room filling with fresh sterilization by the time she remembered that she forgot to note the male¡¯s scent. That was fine, just one more thing to correct. She worked off the last of her wary expression and patiently waited for the next person when it became apparent her side of the room would not offer egress yet.


    The next to join her was a rather tall Lilhun, though she had difficulty determining sex due to the heavy obscurement between them. Even the ventilation holes were misaligned so as to deny her a visual confirmation, so she supposed either scent or voice would be how she confirmed.


    ¡°Greetings, new one. I pray the sun has treated you well?¡± she hedged, unsure if it was more appropriate to make it a statement or question. ¡®Proper¡¯ greetings were an unpractised thing, as most would just tell her what to do or where to be, and the few times she did start the conversation, it was better to jump to a topic than waste the precious time she had before her partner left.


    A heavy crack of claw against glass sounded out before a slew of threats poured out of the opposing female, Sunundra thankfully managing to avoid falling over this time. Just like before, as soon as the other person demanded to leave, they did, and she was left wondering where she went wrong.


    The air cycled before she could remember to sample it.


    This repeated twice more, but with varying degrees of success before it all inevitably broke down. The first was a stoic male who returned her more firm greeting with a wary one, followed by a refusal to speak with her further until he was eventually released. She tried to note any difference in smell, but was rather disheartened when it appeared he didn¡¯t come close enough. Still, it went much better than before, and any progress was still progress!


    The second visitor was a...horrible disaster, honestly, but she wasn¡¯t sure what she did. All she knew was that the female on the other side had been approximately her height¡ªthat is to say, a bit less than a full head below most¡ªand was much thinner. As nice as it was not needing to look up, Sunundra did worry for the other female¡¯s weight. Enough to inadvertently open with it, anyway.


    ¡°Are you ill?¡± she asked gently, keeping her voice low so as not to startle the obviously terrified female. A jolt and backwards step was the only comprehensible response, but a stuttered failure to speak was given as well.


    The pale-furred female patted her clothing, displeased to see that she had forgotten to take much of anything with her in all the excitement, much less something to eat.


    ¡°If you are to request assistance, then someone should be along shortly.¡± Or at least she hoped so; she still was yet to see the head or tail of any staffing¡ªmedical, scientific, or otherwise. ¡°You should sit, I fear you will fall. Is there anything you would like me to do?¡±


    A quiet, trembling voice eked out as the other female retreated from the barrier between them, thumping against the wall and sliding to the floor before curling up defensively. ¡°I-I a-apologize. P-please don¡¯t hurt m-me. I¡¯m not good with p-pain. I w-will listen. Please.¡±


    Sunundra blinked, confused. ¡°Why would I cause you pain?¡±


    Whichever the correct response was, that was not it. The other female scrambled against the door until it eventually parted and only a flicker of shadow and hastened steps confirmed she left. The exit sealed once more, and the air recycled. Sunundra made an attempt to learn the scent of another this time, but only came up with sterile air and...


    Urine. She somehow scared the poor thing half to death, and¡ª


    Wait. It wouldn¡¯t be that strong of a smell. Surely she should have something that was new in her senses, right? But no, the acidic scent of waste grew as it lazily permeated the room, yet not a trace of pheromone could be detected.


    Was she... Was she not...fixed? Did it fail? No, failure didn¡¯t explain the hostility or terror. The only times others ever reacted so firmly was when someone else was...irate... Her concerned mind made the connection.


    Hostility was met with hostility when no hierarchy was established. Since she was a bit smaller than most, she was the weaker target provoking the larger. In the case where it was more even, the male had been wary, but not willing to engage without cause. The last female was smaller...


    Her defect wasn¡¯t fixed, but twisted?


    Disbelief delayed her exit when the door on her side of the room finally opened, but the urgent buzzer snapped her out of it long enough to trudge back towards her temporary den. Every thought was about what this meant for her if there was a second treatment. She should have remembered that, but she held onto hope that it had simply been forgotten. Perhaps it was one procedure for a partial adjustment, then a second or third for the rest?


    Then she was forced to remember what life seemed to think about her foolish hopes.


    The outside of her door displayed a poorly translated note thanking her for her involvement with their experimental treatment, then detailing the concluded results thus far.


    The procedure failed to fix her olfactory, and the others she had met with were to verify her own scent, each reporting a single emotion with extreme potency: rage.


    The final blow was an apology that they would not be continuing any testing with the treatment due to various concerns, and that she would be the only Lilhun in this den for the remainder of her stay.


    Tears welled in her eyes.


    Everything was bad enough before; at least there had still been hope to meet another defective like herself, or possibly someone who was rendered nose-blind through injury or some such. Now? Now she couldn¡¯t so much as greet someone without non-verbally demanding to fight or threaten to cause harm, and she was expected to suffer this alone? Even assuming she did somehow find others who could ignore her scent now, they could never do anything together¡ªnot without provoking random others that happened to be nearby.


    Before, she was rejected. Now, she was an active threat to her future loved one¡¯s safety. She could practically feel the smallest of joys from brief conversations she had managed to partake in the past now slip between her claws, never to be gained again.


    The door cracked, her sobs held down as best she could as she pushed it open before closing it quietly behind her. It escaped her notice that there was someone else inside until she turned back around.


    It was a bit taller than her. Two legs with unnerving joints ended in flat feet. There was a distinct lack of fur besides what was on the head and possibly stubble around the mouth and jaw, exposing pinkish flesh where clothing failed to cover. Strange round pupils stared wide-eyed at her, the brown iris a striking departure from the amber colour of the Lilhun. Five digits of blunted claws, a nearly flat face, and the look of surprised excitement meeting her own expression of sorrow.


    It was strange to see so much motion involved in the simple visual communication which followed. Their eyebrows were raised, then furrowed. Their mouth closed to a thin line, abandoning the joy she suspected it previously held. Finally, their relaxed posture deflated, shoulders drooping just a touch, the paws following suit.


    She blinked, choking back the feeling that her last chance at some semblance of companionship had been ruined once again by her mere existence. Still, she tried her best, forcing a smile through the sadness staining her cheeks.


    ¡°G-greetings, new one. I pray the sun has treated you well.¡± A firm statement made with a shaking voice, yet she meant every word. She may have been cursed, but it wouldn¡¯t matter for much longer, it seemed, and there was no reason to wish ill of someone who had done nothing wrong.


    The one across from her recoiled, wincing and placing a claw to their oddly-placed ear as they quite clearly scowled at her voice, their nose scrunching along with everything else.


    And just like her hopes for companionship, so too did her attempt to make a good impression shatter.


    She rushed to her room before she could learn which extreme reaction her new scent would provoke from the alien, her claws fumbling with the mechanical lock before she threw herself to her bed, grabbing the rejected gift she had created and clutching it to her chest.


    A moderately deep voice called out, a sharp knocking forcing her to curl around the display of affection that, like her, was never wanted, yet had no say in being created. She embraced the gadget and stifled hollow screeches, pretending and wishing that the Hunt Mother was doing the same to her in a way she could not feel.


    Two creations despised by those it was made for, yet designed from inception to be loved.


    The voice went quiet, surprisingly heavy footsteps fading away from her room.


    How fitting that she held the symbol of her own worthlessness in her paws, her stuttered prayer falling apart as she internalized that not even an alien could tolerate her enough to speak with. She faded into sleep, suffering pain both physical and emotional, a part of her hoping she would never wake.


    Yet the world cared not for her hopes.

 Chapter 3

    Consciousnesses blearily reared its ugly head once more for the grey and yellow-furred female, Sunundra¡¯s body protesting the effort it took to exist. Pain flared through her synapses, each fibre of her form screaming for it to cease, yet giving no assistance in seeking the solution lying alongside the bed. Still, she clenched her jaw to stop the whimper and blindly felt for her bag, successfully procuring another patch and placing it to the underside of her tongue. A hiss escaped her muzzle as the tender flesh grudgingly allowed another application of what she had on paw.


    The shuddered breaths eventually subsided, but the reality of the previous sun surfaced in its place¡ªa pain unaided by medication.


    She wasn¡¯t fixed; she was twisted into something that was somehow worse off than before, then isolated to suffer it alone. Everything she held onto hope for had been finally ripped out of her claws. She had nothing.


    A smirk forced its way onto her lips as the folly of blind optimism became apparent yet again.


    Not only was she now likely to be accosted or assaulted for entering an area occupied by others, and not only were the chances of a den even lower than anyone could have thought possible, but her personal ¡®first contact¡¯ reflected just how well the rest of her life would go¡ªeven a species unknown to her found her repulsive. How was she to be of strong faith when the reward for her piety was yet more agony? Where was she to go when the Void was the only path to accept her?


    Discomfort in her abdomen brought her thoughts to current matters. It seemed her bladder was uninterested in any crisis of belief and disillusionment in her future, preferring to threaten making the first experiences of the sun even more miserable. A part of her was almost resigned to just laying in filth until nothingness took her away, but as tempting as giving up and sinking to a new low was, the remaining fragments of her dignity demanded that she properly take care of basic needs.


    She released the aerial drone that lingered within her grasp throughout her turbulent rest, relief crossing her mind upon finding it to be unharmed, followed by the sobering reminder of why she still held possession of it. The monocopter stared back through the singular lens mounted on a somewhat boxy frame, the three blades of its propellers collapsed on top of one another for storage. The explosive embedded beneath the shell called to her.


    Some part of her whispered how easy it would be to simply...bridge the connection. All that was needed was one wire to short a circuit, and then the future would be some intangible concept that existed where the entity of ¡®Sunundra¡¯ did not. The blackened urge tugged and writhed inside her ribs, all but promising that she could forego the untold violence and maltreatment by inviting but a single instant of forever, casting the soul to drift throughout the Void bereft of others.


    Though perhaps still torturous, it would be peaceful. Though alone, the endless expanse would keep her company. Though twisted, none would persecute her.


    She would never be welcomed to the Great Hunt of her kin, but she was hardly welcomed at all anyway. What use was vengeance upon those who wronged her when she would be the target?


    Her lips pursed as she stared covetously at the gift which was never accepted, yet could cease the suffering with ease, the slow release of a held breath pushing down the dark impulse.


    ¡°O¡¯Mother of this soul, your faithful knows not your plan for her, for the machinations of the divine are far beyond her station, yet she remains your servant in hopes of guidance to navigate the treacherous journey before her. Your faithful begs your pity as she strives to stay upon the path of the just, for love and affection may not be destined, but her purpose without them remains unknown. Your faithful awaits, O¡¯Mother, as she always has.¡±


    There was never an answer to her requests, but simply denying the compulsion through prayer dulled the sting in her heart. It was a shame that such became less effective as time progressed. Perhaps the next petition to the Goddess would be forgiveness for impatience...


    The drone was placed back in the bag with the rest of her belongings as she gathered her bearings and begrudgingly rolled off the bed, flinching when her ankle struck the wooden frame again. The slight throb of her heartbeat felt in the bruised flesh kept her grounded as she crossed the room.


    Her paw froze but mere fractions from the knob of the door, muffled sound leaking through the thin barrier between her and the rest of the den. Right, the alien was here now. She cycled a breath as a dejected gaze focused on the mechanism which opened the way forward. If nothing else, then perhaps the burden of her passing would be removed from her paws. At least she might be accepted by the Hunt Mother then.


    A grim resolve was all that preceded the soft click of the lock releasing and the near silent swing of the door. She glanced around wearily, but she was met with only an empty main area and a clear path to her destination. The other doors were open¡ªsave for the exit¡ªbut the noise apparently came from the kitchen, the archway giving little information from her current angle. Wanting to just take care of her needs before the worst came to pass, she slunk to the bathroom as quietly as she could.


    Physical relief came with a reluctant announcement of her wakefulness, the toilet proving to be either cheaply made or simply designed to be obnoxiously loud. Her ear twitched as the sounds of activity in the den ceased. There wasn¡¯t much point in delaying the inevitable, she supposed, her exit from the facilities rife with trepidation.


    A voice called out from the kitchen, startling her as expectations set her state of mind to an ironic desire to persist. The alien could be enraged that she dared leave her room, or it could want nothing more than for her to disappear like the rest of her kin. If violence was to come, then she was unsure what form it may take; it lacked any apparent weapons on its body, but that said little if it possessed less obvious methods to bring forth harm. Whatever they might be, her hammering heart and faltering desire to remain pushed her forward.


    Forget her training, forget her retractable claws, forget every deployment where she had been forced to take a life in combat, and forget anything that isn¡¯t hiding away. She couldn¡¯t take another rejection from the world that she tried so desperately to please, Lilhun or not.


    Frenzied feet carried her to her room, the door slamming closed and the lock clicking into place before she allowed herself to slide back against the wooden barrier, landing on her rump as her knees were brought to her chest. Tears built up as some recess of her mind held onto the foolish hope that not everything was lost, but it was outweighed by more practical thoughts¡ªa tiny comfort in a ruthless storm of reality.


    Footsteps approached the door, each startlingly heavy thud doubling the existent dread until she became lightheaded, hyperventilation gripping her lungs and throat until each breath became painful and forced.


    The alien voice mumbled from the other side of her protection, her ear flicking while she attempted to place the exact distance. It was close¡ªassuming the clarity was anything to go by¡ªbut it seemed to be speaking more for its own benefit than in an attempt to communicate with her. A long exhale preceded sharp knocks and louder speech.


    Safely behind the pitiful shield, she was all but forced to listen. Though she failed to make sense of the strange language, the intonation caught her attention. It became an anchor in her mind, demanding her attention because she had never heard such a tone directed at herself before.


    It was an apology¡ªor at least the voice seemed to convey something along those lines.


    Bolstered confidence waned, supplanted by a weary uncertainty, then defeated slowness. The progression was one she was quite familiar with, as it was one that often left her own muzzle throughout life; an attempt at conversation would be shot down with a distasteful glare that took entirely too long to accept, her faltering smile punctuating the intangible cracks in her cheerful facade. Things would begin with determination, then end with a swift brutality¡ªonly the dark embrace of truth remaining in the wake of hopefulness, and yet another fragment of herself crushed to pitiful dust for daring to share it.


    Perhaps it was the flood of memories that prompted her to crack the door open, but before actual sense could gain control and reestablish the barrier, she was looking at the alien through the slit afforded by whatever sympathy encouraged the foolishness, her eyes widening slightly.


    What surprised her the most was the sheer level of animation present in the alien¡¯s visage. Lacking the foundation of most social interactions via her defective nature, things like strong emotions were often lost on her¡ªespecially if she was to speak with someone who was particularly stoic in regards to expressions. Compounding the issue was the comparatively lesser range of motion in those visual cues; she often only discovered that her potential conversation partner was in a foul mood once she was close enough to exacerbate it. All of it led to the pale-furred female seeming ¡®out of touch¡¯ in the majority of interactions, and ¡®a deliberate nuisance¡¯ in the rest.


    The sour recollection of such a basic fact was brought forth by the alien¡¯s face conveying so much that she was a bit taken aback by it. A look of surprise shifted into a worried smile, concern and tempered happiness peering back at her through tired eyes. Hesitation followed a set of abandoned paw gestures, apparent thoughts dismissed faster than they could be conveyed.


    Its mild joy settled into a shy smirk, an arm motioning to something she couldn¡¯t quite see alongside the door. It spoke softly while indicating specifics, then waited for a response, falling into a pensive silence when she didn¡¯t so much as move. Eventually, it seemed to come to a conclusion, taking a few steps backwards and gesturing again to whatever was just outside of her room.


    The pale-furred female let the door creak just a touch more to look, eyes flicking back to keep tabs on the other being.


    A folding table of some kind had been laid next to the wall, a plate and glass prominently displayed; the first was covered in a variety of meats, fruits, vegetables, and a sampling of the yeasty items she disliked, while the second held an odd orange liquid. It all smelled good, but there was another scent that she couldn¡¯t quite place, and that was enough to justify her wariness.


    Apparently she had been staring at the food too long, as the alien began rambling off in its tongue again, the contrite and dejected tone returning.


    ¡°Apologies,¡± she voiced quietly, her ears folding back somewhat in shame and wincing when the alien shunted an eye closed in abrupt discomfort. ¡°I do not understand you.¡±


    It frowned in thought, fiddling with an ear before its mouth was covered by a paw, claws working over the stubble of fur on its jaw. It eventually spoke again, a brow raised as it presumably asked a question with a troubled expression. The soft cadence failed to give her much to work with, but there wasn¡¯t any aggressive body language, which was better than nothing. She tried to explain again, the door opening a fraction more.


    ¡°Forgive this one for her lack of understanding. I was under the assumption that the device provided to me would facilitate communication, but it appears to be ill equipped for this.¡±


    Rounded pupils subtly shifted to the triangular protrusions on her head for a few moments. A huff and critical gaze lingered until it removed something from its ear, the paw displaying a small black object that looked fairly similar to the translator she was given before her procedure. The alien pointed to its own ear, then hers.


    The confusion on her face must have been fairly obvious, prompting it to repeat the motions, now tapping the translation device and pantomiming a request to show hers. She frowned, but complied, her claws grabbing...nothing.


    Wait. Where was her translator?


    The device wasn¡¯t where she expected it to be, and even checking the other ear proved fruitless. Had she misplaced it? How would she request another? Would they even give her one? What if they refused, weary of the female who lost a piece of technology which might cost untold fortunes?


    Its voice resurfaced, a lopsided expression pulling half of its mouth in contemplative frustration as its eyes wandered nothing in particular. The alien gestured to the food again, speaking warmly before it turned and left for the other bedroom. She regarded it and the dubious meal cautiously before closing the door again and deciding to start on the rations she packed instead. She wanted to leap for joy at the prospect of someone not openly despising her, but she couldn''t. Not after everything which led to her being here. Not when she was assuming so much about a species not her own.


    Perhaps if she had worked diligently to earn such kindness, then it would be easier to accept that receiving it was merited. As things stood, she had only one experience of another doing such, and the rows of disgusted stares still lingered in her memory. Additionally, it was an alien; it would be foolish to trust a being which she was unable to even identify. She would still be polite, but not because the shoddy interaction was somehow more fulfilling than seasons of shallow, insincere pleasantries, but because the Union had fulfilled their promise, even if she was worse off as a result.


    The hard crunch of the grey flavourless brick gave her sustenance for her body, but her soul remained unsated.


    She pined for a nourishment she would never truly have.


    - - - - -


    Over the past few suns, the matter of her missing translator became her priority; it could hardly be said that she was repaying a debt if the foundation of her efforts was callously disregarded. She was to attempt peaceful cohabitation with the strange acaudal alien, and such would be difficult if she lacked the ability to at least understand it.


    The floor was vacant of any unexpected additions, the drawers and closet yielded much the same, and the bed was as equally unhelpful as anywhere else she thought to look. With little else as far as possible locations, the main room became the next most likely area to have lost it, since the...notification tone? The noise that the exit made was quite loud¡ªif dropping a literal bomb almost happened, then it wasn¡¯t much of a stretch to assume a smaller device might have been launched in the process.


    Again, she waited for the routine that had been established to play out. She had spent her time anxiously avoiding the other inhabitant of the den, learning roughly when it seemed to rest and taking care of what little couldn¡¯t be addressed within her room¡ªthough that was mostly confined to relieving herself or fetching water.


    Each ¡®moon,¡¯ the strange voice carried through the walls shortly before complete silence reigned and she was free to resume her searching. Though it had only been three times since her ears had picked it up, she found herself listening to the emotive cadence somewhat muffled by the walls between them.


    She had wept herself into rest the first moon the alien inhabited the den, but the ones after were an interesting thing to hear, if a bit guilt inducing. It started with a tone of worry, soft speech continuing for a while before switching to a note of confidence. The second instance was dejection, confusion, doubt, but again showed a resolute determination. Last moon was one she stopped tinkering to listen closely; the voice was slow and defeated, never gaining the strength like it had before. It made the ending which repeated each time stir something within her. The draw of the Void found kin in another.


    It was loss. It was the voice of one who struggled to stay above the surface in the waters of life, bereft of what once made them float. It was the sound of someone making a desperate and heartfelt plea to not be left alone, their cry echoing off nothing in the black expanse of infinity, for no one would ever hear them.


    It was a tone she used when begging the Hunt Mother for someone to care, and no one ever did.


    The regular ritual left her thinking throughout the sun, skipping rest as her mind turned over her situation. She might be able to fight the urges now, but it was only a matter of time until there was no choice but to accept that even the Goddess had abandoned her. Would the alien feel that way too? Was that why it finished every session with the same few utterances? Did it also find itself alone and scared of the world, seeking solace in an opportunity? Even though enough time had passed, there still failed to be more of the species. Was it to remain isolated like her? Were they both so terribly, terribly alone?


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Each sun the alien knocked and spoke to the door of her room, strange speech conveying the waning hope. Scared as she might be, the queries remained. They returned to her thoughts over and over, pushed aside until they would be delayed no longer, the tortured soul within her recognizing its reflection.


    Why did she insist on listening to the suffering of another like herself, pretending it was of no consequence as she assembled weapons for comfort? How high of a cost would she pay to be cared for if everything had already been an acceptable price? Why was she refusing the other being its salvation when such cost her nothing but kind words to give?


    The answer was quick, but unhelpful; she feared a true final rejection. The real question was if she would wander the Void carrying knowledge that another might have been spared, yet she was too fearful to show the very thing she prayed for? Would she wish another to watch her suffer to the end, able but unwilling to save her?


    She cracked her door to see that the alien¡¯s room was mostly barred, only a sliver of space allowing view of the contents. A small part of her warned of how fragile she had become¡ªurging her to return to her solitude so that her passing might be eased by the fact that she hadn¡¯t suffered needlessly¡ªbut another piece still dared hope.


    Noise came from the other¡¯s room. The alien sounded irritated, but begrudgingly patient as it muttered to itself. For the first time since it arrived, she ventured outside of her confines while it was awake to seek the translator she misplaced. Even if she failed in soothing the wounded heart which bled through a sorrowful voice, she would at least know what the alien was saying before surrendering to sleep. She would know which prayer it gave to spurn the ripping depths which sought to tear the soul.


    Sunundra took a breath, opened her door, and started the search¡ªthe first step in her task of doing for another what none attempted for her.


    The wooden floor was just as forthcoming as the carpeted one in her room, the mostly blank surface turning up empty no matter how thoroughly her eyes scoured it. Shelves were checked just in case, yet remained as barren as she remembered them, and the tables were both devoid of anything which might be what she needed as well. The couch took a few moments to rummage through¡ªplush cushions and decorative indenting proving to be ample space for something so small to disappear into¡ªbut even stripping it bare yielded no results. The bathroom was assumed to be a lost cause to begin with, yet she checked to no avail, leaving her with few ideas as to where the device had gone.


    Her absent search of the couch resumed as her mind poured over possibilities. She hadn¡¯t left the den for any reason besides¡­the test. Right. It was possible for it to have come loose when she was startled by the reactions to her scent.


    The realization was almost enough to bring her to her knees. All her efforts led to scorn from her own people, and the single time she could offer something to someone else, she had to sabotage that as well. There was no blaming her defect for it, nor whatever modification left her worse off than she started, for she was the common point of failure for it all. One task to make her life worth something, one expression of sympathy crossing the boundary of species, and one desire for companionship...yet she was too pathetically stupid to remember the single device which made all of that possible. Frustration brought a watery shimmer to her vision.


    The alien¡¯s door opened as she was standing in the middle of the main room, her head snapping towards the noise to see an irritated expression that lessened as it noticed her. Her paw raised to rub at her eyes, a pitiful attempt at a smile given as she retrospectively began berating her own appearance.


    Her clothing was terribly wrinkled and she had neglected to change, instead of absently assembling her projects in a vain attempt to maintain sanity. Pale fur stood off at odd angles in several places from suns spent barely shifting from a single position on her bed, and her troubled sleep¡ªwhenever she managed to drift off, that is¡ªleft her body tired and sluggish.


    Overall, she looked haggard and worn¡ªlike a kit who remained unsupervised for too long, yet somehow still twice as piteous.


    The open mouth of the alien closed, pulling back into the telegraphed face of one mulling over a difficult problem. Her heart hammered under the scrutiny, echoes of disgusted voices playing in her ear, words of rejection and ire coming back to remind her why she was foolish to think that she could be of help to another when she was only a detriment to herself.


    The building tumble of panic stalled as it removed its translator, only to point at itself, the device, then her.


    ¡°I...¡± Her eyes flicked to her room, returning to the alien when a dejected exhale slouched its posture.


    It tried again, feigning grabbing the translator with both paws, then ¡®breaking¡¯ it in two before ¡®giving¡¯ her one half. Some of her tension abated as she adopted a confused frown, debating between hiding once more and trying her best despite being unaided by the technology. She decided on something in the middle, keeping the path to her room behind her open while attempting to figure out what was being asked of her. Was it displeased with the device?


    It attempted a few variations of the motions to explain itself¡ªto varying degrees of failure¡ªbut when it went to the kitchen and came back with some small props, the message was much easier to ascertain.


    The alien held two of the green oval fruits in its claws, gesturing to the device to equate them to it.


    ¡®Pretend these are translators.¡¯


    She nodded her loose understanding, her head tilting as she followed along. It pointed to her, one of its paws holding a fruit, then dropped the prop onto the ground.


    ¡®You are no longer in possession of yours.¡¯


    Her acknowledgement encouraged a smirk as it reached into a pocket and produced another fruit, then mimed giving the new one to...


    She felt her cheeks flush somewhat as her tired mind finally caught what the initial attempt tried to convey; it was giving her a new translator somehow.


    Either her embarrassment was particularly humorous, or it was simply celebrating its success, but the alien grinned either way, the rumbling chuckle lacking any antagonistic edge. It added a gesture she was unfamiliar with, wiggling the device then using a claw to tap its wrist. Whatever the message was, it wasn¡¯t deemed important enough for new visual aids, because the alien just added a halfhearted shrug to its elation when she politely shook her head to show a lack of understanding.


    She caught a smile as it formed on her muzzle, blinking at the fact she was suddenly very aware they had been communicating for some time now, and yet the alien still seemed perfectly fine with being in the same room as her. It didn¡¯t even attempt to create distance or give up when she wasn¡¯t comprehending what it tried to say. It didn¡¯t seem displeased that she had effectively cut herself off over the past few suns, nor did it grow annoyed when she finally left her room. The interaction wasn¡¯t stilted or unpleasant either...


    Any further thought was interrupted by the loud buzzer of the exit and the alien walking to it with a dry cheer. While she was expecting to see text and instructions, her surprise doubled as the door popped open slightly, then was nudged the rest of the way by the alien without effort. It bent over and retrieved a small box from the ground, a skeptical expression worn as it opened the parcel and used a foot to seal the exit once more. It promptly produced the new translator, tossed the packaging on the small table, and came back holding the device out to her, gazing in expectation.


    She was stunned by the proximity, failing to register that she was to accept the item until the alien gestured for her to take it. Cautiously, she opened a paw, the translator dropping into her grasp.


    It looked different from her previous one¡ªmost noticeably in shape¡ªbut she placed it in her ear, finding it to be a much more comfortable fit. In fact, once everything was properly seated, she had trouble determining if it was in at all, even the reactionary flick of her ear failing to dislodge or otherwise disturb it. A few deliberate attempts eventually shifted it out of place however. She nudged it and repeated the test a few times, never quite getting it to stay put as well as she felt it could.


    The pout of frustration was short lived, replaced by wide eyes as the alien smirked and casually reached to her ear, adjusting the device. A small clamping pressure surprised her, but any discomfort faded over the course of a few moments.


    ¡°J...tle...re...nd... There. That should be good, I think. The bastards left you with the basic model, and those things are damn near useless,¡± it criticized, the voice tinted with amusement. ¡°They sound like an old ¡®text to speech¡¯ program, the dictionaries are never updated, and they couldn¡¯t be bothered to give the right size for your ear. It¡¯s no wonder that you lost it. So, how is it? Can you hear me?¡±


    She watched as it stepped back a bit, waiting for a response with an expression that didn¡¯t quite match the nervousness in its tone. Her paw slowly raised, running a claw over a small rubberized piece attached to the shell of her ear. ¡°I understand you...¡±


    The smile on the alien¡¯s face softened, tinting with a hint of worry as it absently moved a paw to the side of its head. ¡°Is it too loud? They¡¯re pretty easy to bump.¡±


    ¡°N-no, it is sufficient,¡± she assured weakly. It regarded her doubtfully for a moment before dismissing the line of questioning with a nod and a breath.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad we sorted that out. As willing as I was, it¡¯s hard to get to know someone with charades, and you might have noticed that I¡¯m not exactly the best at it. Anyway, it¡¯s nice to meet you, miss...¡± It paused, pursing its lips in an embarrassment. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, miss. I just realized that I forgot to introduce myself. Well, while you could actually pick out what I was saying... Anyway, I¡¯m Bill.¡±


    She glanced at the suddenly offered paw curiously, unsure what she was expected to do about it. Tentatively, she grasped it with her own, almost flinching back when the alien gripped firmly and pumped the arm twice before releasing her. It felt...strange, though she was unsure if it was because she didn¡¯t remember the last time someone willingly made contact with her, or because of the slightly differing anatomy. The five digits had applied an unusual pressure on her skin, unlike the four she was accustomed to.


    ¡°Miss?¡±


    Sunundra blinked, tearing her gaze away from her paw. ¡°Are you referring to myself?¡±


    The alien shrunk a little more, placing one arm across its stomach and supporting the other elbow atop it, a claw idly scratching at its cheek. ¡°It¡¯s just a polite way to address a woman when you don¡¯t know their name.¡±


    She glanced down at herself curiously. The pale yellow fur of her jaw continued down her front, quickly being obscured by her clothing. The subtle curvature of her chest wasn¡¯t particularly notable in her opinion, and she was fairly unremarkable in every other area. Though far from androgynous, she wasn¡¯t exactly the most eye-catchingly feminine Lilhun either.


    Her regard returned to the alien. ¡°Which criteria might you have used to determine if I was female?¡±


    The alien¡¯s cheeks turned startlingly red. ¡°I... You just... Well...¡± It turned its head away, glancing at her from the corner of its eye. A moment passed before a longer exhale shamefully brought back its full attention. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to assume anything.¡±


    Her ear flicked at the novelty of being subjected to so many apologies. Truthfully, she wasn¡¯t sure how to manage such a situation¡ªusually it was her who needed to tread lightly in conversation.


    Her paws came up in a mix of an attempt to distance herself from the notion she was upset, and the odd feeling of uncertainty. ¡°No, you are correct. I just find myself wondering how one is to go about identifying the sex of another not of their own. I do not know how similarly I appear to females of your species, so I was merely curious what might have brought forth the conclusion.¡±


    ¡°You, uh...¡± It scratched at its nose, its eyes flicking to her form before being swiftly redirected elsewhere. ¡°You just look female to me. Trust me, I¡¯ve made the mistake before, and he was less than happy to hear it. I still can¡¯t really... It depends on...¡±


    It sighed deeply.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, miss. Honestly, someone else should probably be staying here. I¡¯m not the best at...this.¡±


    ¡°This?¡± she echoed, wondering just how much of her knowledge on body language was transferable. To her, the shame, embarrassment, shyness, and obviously apologetic visage shone like beacons from the strange creature. It was all she could do to mentally remind herself that this being was not her kin, and that any emotion she assumed to be apparent should also be scrutinized. Still, the tone of its voice remained weak and unsure. It waved its free paw loosely to cover the waning confidence, turning side-on to look about the room.


    ¡°All of this¡ªgoing to other planets, meeting xenos, knowing about them...¡± A self-deprecating chuckle left its muzzle, its voice lowering to a saddened murmur she could only barely hear. ¡°Some people are just born for this sort of thing.¡±


    She frowned slightly, feeling the words resonate a bit more than was comfortable. The alien looked...lonely. Perhaps it was more forward than she might have anticipated, but the instant that its momentum shifted, an all too familiar aura of longing showed beneath the cracks. The level of empathy she had for the strange species took her by surprise, but there was little time to ponder anything. The weary expression it wore turned back to her.


    ¡°I¡¯ll assume you¡¯re the smarter one of us and were trying to politely hint that my name wasn¡¯t enough information,¡± it voiced with a hint of frustration, though the subtle barb seemed to be directed towards itself. ¡°Like I said, I¡¯m Bill. Human, male, and completely unqualified to be here.¡±


    Its¡ªno, his¡ªpause following the introduction left her blinking. Was she also to give her name? It was forbidden to divulge such in her position, though that mistake had already been made once... Offending him by withholding information was the last thing she wanted to do to someone voluntarily speaking with her, but...she also couldn¡¯t just forget how poorly it went last time.


    Sunundra cycled a breath, straightening her posture and bowing her head courteously. ¡°Greetings, Bill. This one is a female Lilhun. You may address me as you have been¡ªassuming such is acceptable?¡±


    She cheered internally for not fumbling over her words, the feeling sinking upon seeing the male¡¯s enthusiasm be less than she would have anticipated. Still, he nodded in understanding.


    ¡°Well then, miss, it¡¯s nice to properly meet you.¡± A ding from the kitchen gave both of them a slight jump, Bill offering her a weak smirk before tipping his head towards the archway, then pointing behind her with a claw. ¡°I need to go check on that. I made something for you too, but I wasn¡¯t sure what you could have. Just tell me if there¡¯s anything you don¡¯t like. I¡¯ll get something to eat now, but I¡¯ll be in my room if you need me for anything.¡±


    He was off before she could properly respond to him, the sudden absence of a willing conversational partner leaving her feeling more empty than she was used to. Unlike every prior time someone walked away, his stride wasn¡¯t hurried, nor were there any signs of agitation¡ªthough he lacked a tail which might flick to openly express it. He left the main room of the temporary den with a subtle shadow over his features, the face of one berating themselves for holding hope disappearing as he turned the corner.


    How strange it was to see such a vivid and transparent display of something she had only seen in mirrors.


    ¡°Bill?¡± she called as he stepped out of view. A heavier step back had him looking at her questioningly. ¡°I wished to express my gratitude...for the meals. I apologize for not partaking before.¡±


    His eyes softened, his shoulders relaxed their tension, and his lips pulled into a warm smile. ¡°I understand, miss. You¡¯re welcome. The other night, you looked... Anyway, I just tried to make a bit of everything since I wasn¡¯t sure what you could have. We¡¯ll work on it and you can let me know if there¡¯s anything you can¡¯t eat or would prefer for next time.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    It was subtle, but a smile accompanied the nod given before he slipped back into the kitchen, her gaze lingering on the archway until her attention turned to the small folding table next to her door. The plate was still waiting to be accepted, though much cooler now that it had rested there for a while. Again the voice of reason and fear told her to avoid it, lest she fall victim of another ruse or other evils, but she ignored it, seeking that which paranoia could never offer.


    Cautious paws delicately collected the offered items, the surprising heft taking a moment to adjust for. She carried it into her room, closing the door behind her and bringing the meal to her desk, tucking her tail out of the way as she sat.


    For the longest time, all she could do was stare at it and replay the events in her head, each repetition catching new details the previous run-through missed. The alien really did cover the majority of edible items at his disposal¡ªbarring the items which came from Iras¡ªeach carefully separated from others by type. The watering of her mouth was matched by her eyes, and for once, it was not sorrow which brought the tears, nor was it manic glee like when she falsely assumed her prayers to be answered. No, it was a simple emotion which somehow twisted and bent throughout her modified form, yet did not mar the structure, instead easing the heavy weight she had been forced to accept as normal. Her mind struggled to place a name to such a feeling, and yet it succeeded.


    Gratitude.


    Claws brought the first item closer for individual inspection, the meat proving to be completely lacking spices, while a second had been seasoned to some degree. When she laid down the last piece, it became clear that Bill had decided to offer a spectrum of options. Actually, it appeared as if he had prepared the same dish every sun and left it out for her, patiently providing for when hunger proved too much to ignore. Was that why he kept pointing at specific things the first time? He was explaining what each item was?


    A cold pit formed in her stomach as the small conversation was scoured in her mind once again. He mentioned the volume of the translators, which was likely why her voice caused him to scowl that moon; it had been set too high by mistake and might have been painfully loud. Then the comment about how she appeared... Did she look as miserable as she felt coming back to the den? Was the first he saw of her a shattered female who had just learned that her dreams of companionship had been crushed?


    Yet she ran from him¡ªa lonely soul suffering solitude, much the same as herself¡ªand ignored the attempts to provide some modicum of care. Unperturbed, he persisted, awaiting the moment she was able to gather the strength to speak as he sourced a replacement for that which she lost.


    She sampled a portion of spiced meat as both stomach and soul sat stunned at what was offered.


    The first bite freed the dampness building on her cheeks. The second let loose sobs.


    She never knew kindness tasted so good.

 Chapter 4

    The meal was finished over the course of several attempts, overwhelming emotions causing breaks where the taste of her tears needed to fade before she resumed. It was delicious¡ªeverything from the meat to the strangely sweet fruits dancing on her tongue in ways that the bland rations she had been crunching through never could. It was a reward all of its own, but her attention remained on the fact that she had properly spoken with someone, and had ended the conversation by receiving a smile of all things. An alien smile, but a smile just the same.


    There was no scoff of annoyance, no snarl of detest, no pointed disregard, nor even a subtle glare of disgust...just kindness that was offered by someone who seemed so soothed by seeing that their care was accepted at all. That they were accepted, in however small a way.


    Sunundra was no stranger to anxiety, but not from the one she was speaking to, and never had success been the outcome. Especially while she was looking so horrid.


    Her gaze was brought downward to regard her appearance now that she was sated, disappointment stemming from her suns-old outfit and untidy coat. She knew her smile had been forced and her eyes red from frustrations, yet still the alien...Bill looked at her with soft sympathy and warm understanding. Wetness blurred her vision as her previously expended tear ducts proved to supply ever more in the face of new emotions.


    If such was what she could expect from the ¡®cohabitation trial,¡¯ then the Hunt Mother must be smirking upon her beleaguered kit, shaking her head in response to this faithful ever seeing reason in doubt.


    The plates were collected and balanced upon one arm as the other opened her bedroom door, the pale-furred female opting to leave her tiny sanctuary exposed. She kept an ear out for Bill, yet he wasn¡¯t in the main area, nor the kitchen, which drew a surprisingly genuine frown as she placed her dishes in the machine. Perhaps it was foolish to pine for more positive interaction so quickly, yet the urge remained. She had so many questions and so many curiosities yet to be discovered, but patience must be practised.


    That acknowledgement did little to stop her eyes from wandering to the closed door of her strange den-mate¡¯s room. Would it be presumptuous of her to knock as he so often did? Would he be offended if she offered thanks yet again, and sought to know more about him? Was it appropriate for her to be so interested in an alien at all? Would she be shunned further once she returned?


    She flinched before her knuckles could make contact, wondering when she had approached the door in the first place. Hesitation turned into uncertainty, then into shame as she appraised herself once more.


    Still pitiful. Still hopelessly eager to receive the approval of one who was not of her own. Still twisted and marred on the inside in ways she might never know, yet everyone around her would be painfully aware. It was likely an effort of great self-control for Bill to tolerate her presence.


    Perhaps he had a strict code of honour in regards to other species, and adhered to it when he made no mention of her scent, nor acted against it. Perhaps it was his culture which encouraged providing food for the unkempt female.


    ...Perhaps her assumptions were wrong, and the barrier in place was his actual desires¡ªisolation proving to be preferable to her company. She couldn¡¯t blame him, it was the opinion she had yet to find an opponent for.


    She exhaled the shuddered breath as wisps of self-critical thoughts ran rampant, the glowing cinders of her heart keeping hope alive. If nothing else, she shouldn¡¯t forgo tried and tested methods just because of a single positive experience; bathing, fresh clothing, and a sure smile would be infinitely more pleasing than a haggard appearance and ire-soaked scent. If all went well, he would acknowledge her efforts and be that much more tolerant.


    With a decision reached, she collected new clothing, soaps, perfumes, towels, and a brush for even the most stubborn knots. She would do her best to be as presentable as possible, and then she would give her sincere gratitude. He extended the offer to inform him of what food she disliked or was unable to eat, so that seemed like the best way to move into a proper conversation. The possibility remained that he truly did find her displeasing, but she had tasted kindness, and it had awoken a gnawing hunger in a starved portion of her soul.


    Either it was fed, or it would eat her whole. It hardly mattered which, for both would be the end of her suffering.


    - - - - -


    The hot water flowed down her form, soaking the coat thoroughly and pressing it to her flesh, the weight of the liquid washing away excess oils and chemical cleansers. The shower was smaller than she was used to, but it performed its task well enough. The pressure was adequate¡ªenough to deafen her as it struck her ears, anyway¡ªand the various settings allowed streams of many styles, which was a novel experience compared to the singular one at the base. Her paw pressed against the handle on the wall and rotated it until the nozzle above ceased its spray.


    Two soaps, three lathers, and ample time for it to seep into the hollow fibres of her fur; such was slightly more than she typically did, but then again, she was in no rush to leave. Normally, such a long cleansing would run the risk of upsetting others who carried stigma about her condition, unknowing and uncaring that the water kept her scent contained. Here, however, she could certainly take her time. Barring Bill requiring the facilities¡ªsomething she found to be nonoptimal, because why would one place a toilet next to a place where one is to wash themselves?¡ªthere was none who would critique her for ensuring she looked her best.


    She stood there for a while, letting the water not trapped by surface tension drip. As soon as most of that was complete, she shifted to drying herself carefully with towels, meticulously brushing out each segment before moving to the next. Perfumes saturated the bristles and was worked through her coat with every stroke. A second long-lasting type was kneaded by her claws, pressing into her cheeks as it was rubbed in. She rather liked the smell, but because it did nothing to cover her defective pheromones, she had been reduced to using it on her pillows and the like in smaller doses for her own enjoyment. Now that there was ample time and a possible chance of success coming from it, she applied the scented oils liberally, smiling nervously at the reflection staring back at her.


    Her ears had been treated as best she could, though the short fur hardly required any attention. Her coat wasn''t the most luxurious, but even if it was still somewhat coarse, she was rather pleased with the end result. The only thing she neglected was her claws, and that was because her usual work typically interfered with any desire to alter their appearance. In a moment of retrospection, she browsed her toiletries, finding a simple file supplied to soldiers and wondering if it would be worth striving for perfection in that area as well.


    A mental shrug and slight apprehension preceded the soft scratching, her pollex claw extending fully as she worked down the sides to ensure both razor sharpness and uniformity. Some chose to colour them, but such was typically found in the civilian sector. The military had multiple restrictions on dyes and the like, though she recalled petitions to relax them being circulated. Perhaps a more vibrant colour would suit her fur?


    The longer she thought about it, the more she realized that she didn''t particularly have anything in mind for if it was allowed. Her coat was a rather bland shade of grey and yellow, but she was never of the funds nor desire to change it before, so the idea of modifying it now only highlighted how limited her self-image was. She had always been identified by her condition and needed to do everything she could to make a good impression; any chosen colour would run the risk of adding distaste to those who saw the act as worthless self-expression. Perhaps Bill would be willing to humour her pondering, or maybe have a suggestion of his own.


    That being said, it also raised questions regarding how he would feel about her appearance anyway. If they were to share a den for the foreseeable future, then it may be worth consulting him first¡ªthere would be little point in trying to be more visually appealing if she accidentally broached a sensitive topic in the process.


    Would a species of dulled claws and little fur notice the care put into her appearance in such minor ways? She hoped so, but even if it wasn''t in their typical considerations, then at least she could take pride in the fact that she was putting in the effort at all. It was the most she had tried in quite some time.


    The filing slowed. Would her sharpened claws be taken as hostility? It wasn''t as if she set out to blatantly remind Bill that she was armed at all times¡ªeven if it was rather limited in range¡ªbut as far as she could tell, he was devoid of such weapons, so such could easily be misconstrued. There was the possibility that he would be unnerved¡­


    The subtle scraping resumed. Regardless of the outcome, she was striving to be the best she could. This was for herself as much as it was to gain approval.


    Noise ceased as a sombre expression gazed back at her in the reflective surface on the wall. The vacant eyes looking back carried a hint of life, pristine fur glimmered under the lights, and a shadow of a smile blessed the visage.


    How long had it been since she was truly nervous about what others thought instead of ignoring the inevitable outcome, wearing a cheerful expression out of desperation? When did she give up on being accepted by her kin, masking fear with a faux smile and barely-mustered energy? She knew that they would never tolerate her, but she continued anyway, praying that the self-delusion would some sun justify her enthusiasm, and that the genuine terror of life alone might be quelled by another being truly pleased to be in her presence.


    Yet here she was, musing how much she should discuss with an alien which had only shown a single act of kindness. Did that make her pathetic? For the first time, her scent was largely ignored¡ªeven the modified curse it had become. She almost hoped that whatever cultural honour in place for the strange species would remain; at least that way she might see that compassion again. See the kindness given to another with understanding eyes.


    Did it even matter if she was all but filth to her people? What was waiting for her amongst them but violence and sorrow? So what if she was considering the opinions of one not of the Great Hunt?


    Sunundra¡¯s paw flexed, testing the slightly different feel between claws. They glimmered along the sharpened edge, but they were only functional for the moment¡ªsufficient, if her goal was merely to demonstrate competence to her kin, but she didn¡¯t seek to display lethality. Perhaps a softer look? He might find them intimidating as they were¡­


    The filing resumed, a bashful expression colouring her cheeks.


    - - - - -


    She adjusted the fit of her pants, the synthetic fabric hugging her form, yet proving to be both stretchy and breathable. The material ran from her hips to her digitigrade ankle, leaving the desaturated grey fur on her feet exposed. Her top was a bit looser, only really supported by her shoulders as the outer of two layers draped over her form, stopping just above her abdomen, while the innermost material followed her build. It was an outfit she purchased quite some time ago so that she had something nice to wear when out with friends or den-mates, but such an occasion had yet to come, and so it had remained but a symbol of an idyllic future in her closet. Truthfully, why she had packed it for a medical procedure was just because it was one of the few selections she owned at all, but perhaps a part of her was hoping it would see immediate use upon her return.


    Or maybe she had never planned on returning to the base at all¡­


    A shake of her head dispelled the thoughts. She was here for the time being, and for once in her life, she was preparing to make a good impression with her scent not being the first and foremost concern. It was still a consideration, but her mind occupied itself by running through her and Bill''s interactions in an attempt to find any taboos she should avoid. It was all so nebulous and novel that her nervousness was being subdued by sheer excitement, and she wasn¡¯t sure if that was a good sign or not.


    She collected her items and dropped them off into her room again, planning on laundering the towels and clothing at a later time. A final check of her coat returned an image of well-maintained fur, her claws were still sharp, but more subdued in appearance, and her scent was pleasant¡ªignoring the soon-to-be apparent pheromones which will overpower the rest. Another patch was applied to her tongue when pain returned, but other than that, she felt as ready as she was going to be.


    There was almost a sense of hesitation as she walked to Bill¡¯s room and hovered her knuckles just in front of the door. Every bit of preparation she had gone through in one sun eclipsed years of trying to make a friend, and it was for an alien. Doubts surfaced and sunk within her thoughts¡ªeach either berating her for giving up on her kin, or encouraging her to seek out that which those same kin refused to provide. Were her prayers answered? Or was she straying from the path, tempted by promises of better treatment and wandering ever closer to the Void? Would the illusion of acceptance be worth an eternity of isolation?


    Hesitantly, she knocked. It lacked the crisp sound that he was able to produce, but it was loud enough. Silence from inside drew a frown on her face, her ear twitching to pick out even the slight shuffle of feet or breaths of the resting. Nothing.


    ¡°Bill?¡± she called softly, anxiety surfacing when there was no response. A second knock led to surprise, the door swinging inward under the force of a stronger hit. With a moment of apprehension, she pushed it further, peering into the place she hadn¡¯t seen since before her new den-mate arrived.


    It was much the same as her own accommodation, save for the personal effects littering the desk and dresser.


    A terminal of sorts sat on the former, while physical pictures were strewn haphazardly around it. Regret hit for not considering bringing her own, but the device had been rendered mostly useless anyway. Was Bill in contact with the administration here? Was that how he managed to source a replacement for her translator? It would be rather useful if so, but it also raised more questions regarding how involved he might be. Did he know of her procedure?


    She shook off the doubts, but kept them in the back of her mind, her eyes moving to other things that might be of importance.


    Clothing was erratically hanging off of open drawers, as if the occupant had been selecting garments in a hurry, which was strange. She had thought of him as a somewhat tidy individual, but she supposed she was hardly much better, considering the mess she left during her deployment. The bed was unmade, a plate had been left out, and there were various smaller items she couldn¡¯t identify. No matter how odd she thought everything was, it was also familiar. Chaos followed a loose set of restrictions here.


    There was only one thing missing that she hadn¡¯t been prepared for: Bill.


    A subdued concern sparked within her. He wasn¡¯t in the kitchen preparing a meal, nor the main area¡ªnot that either of them had really used it since his arrival, something she had been hoping to remedy. He wasn¡¯t in the bathroom that she had occupied until now, and her room remained as vacant as before, though she only checked to confirm that the worst had come to pass.


    She was alone.


    Again.


    A frantic fragment of her mind demanded she check his room once more, insisting that she had simply overlooked something, but she only ended up frozen in the doorway, staring at the lack of company.


    ¡­Why?


    The question came unbidden, yet laced in the same suffocating toxin that plagued her throughout her time in the military, expectations ground down by the uncaring soldiers and harsh truths that she had ignored growing up as a kit. What did she expect? For anything to change just because he was not like her? That was a laughable thought by itself, yet she had clung to it¡ªnay, thrown herself at it¡ªdeliriously joyous that she would receive anything at all. It was stupid to think otherwise and foolish to go as far as grooming herself in an effort to make a good impression. She knew that.


    But still her heart ached.


    He had been kind, polite, and even went through the trouble of preparing food for her in a show of goodwill, so why was she alone? More accurately, why did it feel like the last grasp of life just slipped through her claws? Was it because she was too late in dispelling her scent? Was her appearance so displeasing? Was choosing to eat alone the reason? Her sobbing? Had she not spoken enough, or was it too much? Did withholding her name mean so much to him? If she had known, she might have¡­ No, she should have been prepared. She should have¡­but¡­


    She wasn''t ready for this. She had her whole life to accept mistreatment and put on a strong facade while she clutched the fanciful dream which would never really be, but¡­she had experienced it. It was a mere portion of what she had always desired, but that only made the revelation worse. What was there to gain when a sampling was all she had been given? Why draw breath when each cycling of her lungs only prolonged her suffering? Perhaps before her arrogant assumption¡ªthe certainty of the procedure being an answer to her prayer¡ªthere was a chance to find another. To find a friend, or maybe even a mate. Now¡­ Now she was a twisted byproduct of her hubris. Not even an alien would¡ª


    The exit clicked loud enough to snap her from her spiraling thoughts. She turned her head to follow after her ears, seeing the other resident of the den enter with an exhausted gait. Bill breathed heavily, closing the door behind him and dragging his feet until he looked up.


    ¡°Miss? Wh¡ª¡± His eyes widened. ¡°Oh no. It¡¯s not the food, is it? Are you okay? I asked if there was anything you couldn¡¯t eat, but they just gave me a long list of chemicals. Are you allergic to something?¡±


    He closed the distance, concern and panic conveyed by expressions that were effectively a neon sign on his face. Sunundra stood stunned as he stopped just shy of reaching out to her, his paws flinching back in indecision as he debated his options to aid her. She stared at the alien battling guilt while trying to figure out how to assist.


    He was covered in a subtle sheen of moisture, the fur on his head matted down and his clothing soaked in several areas. His breathing was still strained from exertion, and his pinkish flesh had blanched somewhat, giving him a sickly appearance. Everything pointed to the male faring far worse than herself, yet his distress grew as he rapidly muttered about a lack of medical training and how useless he was. There was an urgency and terror underneath it all that drew concern from the pale-furred female. There was a sincerity and genuine aura that washed away the pull of the Void which had clutched her soul.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    He was worried for her, all because he returned while she was staring longingly at the floor.


    Laughter filled the room in gentle, sweet, and stress-erasing bursts, almost melodically filling the den. It only registered that it was her own after a few moments, but relief and joy had blown critical thought away, so she basked in the feeling until her mirth dissipated enough to compose herself. Bill seemed perplexed, but eventually relaxed and let his posture return to normal, a somewhat confused smirk on his face.


    ¡°Was it just bad?¡± he asked, some measure of apprehension present in his voice. ¡°I¡¯m still pretty new to it, so¡­¡±


    The pale-furred female slowly shook her head, allowing time for her smile to form properly. ¡°The meal was wonderful. I wished to share my gratitude once again, but¡­¡±


    Understanding dawned on him, a quick nod preceding a sigh. ¡°Yeah, sorry. They called me out to do a checkup and get some tests out of the way. I tried to let you know, but you were in the shower, so I guess you didn¡¯t hear me.¡±


    Tiny embers spread warmth in her chest. Her muzzle snapped closed as she realized that she was about to voice her doubts of his return. Why was her normal procedure for conversation collapsing in the face of this one? She replaced the words with whatever else came to mind before she could question herself too deeply. ¡°I dislike the yeasty items¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeast? Oh, the toast and waffles?¡±


    Her eyes fell downward at the hint of disappointment in his voice. ¡°Y-yes. I attempted to consume them before, but I became ill. Apologies.¡±


    Furless paws shot up, waving slightly in frantic reassurance. ¡°No! This is the kind of thing I asked for. Don¡¯t think that I mind, I''ll just skip that next time I make something for you. Was the meat okay? I haven''t really tried cooking it like that before, but I wasn''t sure how creative I could get, so I kept it basic. Glad I did now¡ªthere''s a bunch that I didn''t recognize, and I didn''t want to risk screwing that up yet.¡±


    ¡°Yes, the rest was pleasant.¡±


    He relaxed, a tired grin bringing a modicum energy to his face as a claw worked over his stubble. ¡°Good. I''ll need to change a few menu ideas, but I should be able to work with that.¡±


    Sunundra''s smile carried the joy of a kit¡ªalmost to the point where the underworked muscles hurt. It was such a strange sensation, considering she often forced such an expression.


    ¡°You are not required to supply my meals,¡± she informed politely, another chuckle needing to be suppressed when he rolled his eyes and dismissed the reminder casually. It should have been hurtful for her words to be disregarded, but for some reason, she couldn¡¯t find such a reaction anywhere within.


    ¡°I want to. I''ve been practicing for when¡­¡± his light demeanour darkened, a huff bringing a much weaker tone. ¡°I just wanted to make you something. Figured that if we''re going to be living together, then we should at least get along, right? Food struck me as a pretty alright way to do that. If I understood the conditions right, then until this whole thing is over, it¡¯s just us for the most part. Being alone for it sounds¡­¡±


    She wasn''t sure how to respond, the abandoned sentence lingering in her ear. Her own expression fell as she tried to distract herself, her attention returning to his appearance. ¡°You¡¯re wet.¡±


    Bill looked down at his shirt, pinching the fabric and pulling it out to examine the damp areas. ¡°Yeah, they had me run on a treadmill for a while, took some blood, monitored a whole bunch of things I can¡¯t pronounce... I¡¯m no stranger to hard work, but doctor¡¯s visits and sweaty clothes are never comfortable.¡± The male frowned. ¡°Reminds me that I need a shower now, though. I feel gross.¡±


    She nodded, knitting her brows in momentary contemplation. Although she knew not why they would be seeking more information of one already belonging to their ranks, the consideration was placed aside as another part of her was pleased to have learned something new about her den-mate. It was nice to know they shared a physical trait¡ªignoring how differently it expressed itself.


    A Lilhun body would expel moisture into the hollow cores of their fur, then heat would evaporate it using the exposed surface area of the hairs until a more ideal temperature was reached. Those with thicker or longer coats often originated from slightly colder climates where the insulation was needed, but even the shortest did not expose bare flesh like Bill. Was being damp a side effect of his lacking coat during perspiration, or was it beneficial in their native environment?


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he voiced sheepishly. Sunundra tilted her head with a blink at the male taking a careful step backwards.


    ¡°What might you be apologizing for?¡±


    Bill raised a paw placatingly. ¡°I know I reek. It¡¯s actually more obvious being this close to you.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t hold back the flinch as she registered that the expression on her face bordered on a thoughtful scowl. Such a foolish mistake, and all she could do was await the scathing¡ª


    ¡°¡ªI didn¡¯t know you guys did perfumes¡­or scented oils¡ªI could never tell the difference. Really makes the ¡®workout stench¡¯ worse in comparison,¡± he commented with an embarrassed chuckle. ¡°I¡¯ll go wash up before I ruin how nice whatever you used is.¡±


    ¡­The scathing remark which never came, apparently. Sunundra watched as he walked past, gathered his things, then disappeared into the bathroom, the shower starting a few moments after. Her eyes were wide open the whole time, shock stunning her in place.


    She knew not how long she had been simply standing there before he returned to the den, but it was certainly enough for her natural scent to permeate again. How tolerant was the species to simply excuse it? His comment on his own odour seemed somewhat unnecessary; it was rich and distinct, but far from offensive. With how he spoke, she would have expected it to be almost rancid¡ªit would have to be for it to supersede a defective¡¯s pheromones.


    ¡­Or whatever her new condition might be named.


    If anything, it was slightly shameful to admit that she found herself taking deeper breaths, curiously noting every little detail and nuance of the new smell as she considered his words. Lilhuns rarely exuded much of a scent to her at all¡ªsave for the passive aroma of fur¡ªand even then, it was rare she could remain within proximity long enough to note it. Having someone be close enough to not only allow her to form an opinion on it, but for them to suffer her¡­ To compliment her even¡­


    She felt the blood pool in her cheeks. As hollow as the praise might be, it was nice to hear regardless.


    - - - - -


    Bill finished his shower, Sunundra only hearing the bathroom door opening as she was tidying her room somewhat. Small canisters of dry chemical were collected and organized on her desk, electronics were stored in the dresser drawers that her meagre clothing selection failed to occupy, and any completed experiments were placed in the closet out of the way. Her room remained openly accessible, which was a freeing sensation¡ªsomething about not being sealed in an area by herself eased the feeling of true isolation.


    It was only after her unorthodox den-mate stopped by to absently reiterate his preference for her perfumes and informing her that he was retiring for the moon that she remembered why her door had always been closed.


    Her scent had likely saturated the entire den by now.


    That was¡­fine¡­right? He had yet to say anything besides approval, but she also didn¡¯t want to impose too much and sour their interactions further. The thought of reestablishing the barrier full-time brought a new fear however; how long would she be alone this time?


    The lack of rest affected more than him, it seemed. She had stayed up throughout her usual resting time to speak with him, and only now did it catch up with her as soon as she was reminded of it. She knew not if it was light or dark¡ªthe lack of exterior windows or accent lighting assured that¡ªbut it still felt like a slight waste of her nicer clothing to have worn it for such a small duration. Regardless, a fairly positive experience was worth the cost in her mind, and she would hopefully have more opportunities to wear it in future.


    She wished him a pleasant rest, waiting for his own door to be closed behind him before reluctantly sealing herself away. The crushing loneliness that she expected to resume in full force wasn''t quite as potent as she expected, honestly. It may have been due to having actually spoken with someone else, or the lingering remains of¡­


    She wasn''t fooling herself¡ªBill''s scent was still fairly strong, and that alone allowed her to feel like someone was still there with her, his sheepish smile hiding his embarrassment. It was perhaps the first time she laid down without wondering how doing so with another would feel. There were no subtle breaths or tender touch like she always imagined, but she could pretend that she was not the only occupant of the bed. It allowed her a sense of peace, even if it was gained with the scent of a strange creature from galaxies unknown. She felt the gentle ease of rest guide her into unconsciousness, a smile forming from the shameful comfort¡­


    ¡­Until the muffled voice of her den-mate crept through the walls, his ritual resumed.


    Unlike what she had grown used to, this moon started with an excited tone, and it didn''t seem to taper off like before¡ªnot for long, anyway. She placed an ear to the wall out of morbid curiosity, ignoring the guilt at eavesdropping in favour of an optimistic wish to learn about him. Perhaps they could speak of their beliefs if she knew something about his own.


    ¡°...able to get in touch with them since I got here, though. But that''s enough of that. As for the part I know you''ve been waiting for: yes, I managed to talk to her today! Still no name, sadly¡ªI don''t know if it''s a religious or cultural thing¡ªbut she was digging through the couch cushions to look for her translator when I left my room. I¡¯m sure you remember how bad I am at charades. It took way too long to grab a few grapes to make things easier, but I managed to tell her that I got a new one requisitioned.


    ¡°Thankfully, the replacement finally arrived, but¡­ Boy, I don''t want to think about how terrifying it must have been for her before. There wasn¡¯t anyone else here at first, and as soon as she comes back for the night, there''s some strange alien in her home¡­ It was enough to hide for a few days, I guess. Can''t say I wouldn''t do the same. I tried being friendly, obviously, and I was pretty worried that I made a bad impression, but I think she''s just¡­hurt. I thought it was a me issue until I told her about the food. She just looked so surprised that I did something for her¡ªand it was just a breakfast plate, nothing special. I didn¡¯t even manage to do much since I wanted to avoid making her sick.¡±


    Sunundra blinked, frowning at what seemed to be a conversation about¡­her? Were they so casual with their Goddess? If not, was he communicating with someone else?


    ¡°Of course, they ran me ragged today. I would have thought all the tests before were enough. Not for them, apparently. I stumbled back, expecting to keep looking up diets across the Union, but no, she was by my door. Turns out that she wanted to thank me for the food¡ªwhich I was happy she liked¡ªbut her face¡­ I''ve seen it a lot over the years. I know it''s stupid to assume, but she looked so much better before I left. I thought the food was bad, or maybe there was an allergy no one told me about... I mentioned before how she was the first night, and it was basically that¡ªlike someone just told her that her parents passed or something. I started panicking like an idiot. I¡¯m supposed to make a good impression, and all I could think about was accidentally screwing it up. Then I thought about back home, and¡­


    ¡°You would have screamed at me for being an idiot if you were there. Heh, I''m sure you would have yelled at me for a lot of things. I came back stinking to high hell, and I got too caught up trying to stick my own foot in my mouth to say anything actually helpful. The whole place smelled like¡­¡±


    His voice quieted a bit, a sombre tone taking root.


    ¡°It reminded me of what you used to wear. I never did remember the name, but it was that vanilla cinnamon stuff your mother bought for you¡­ You¡¯d love her, I can say that much with confidence at least. And furry! I know you wouldn''t be able to keep your hands off her, which just made it harder to say something normal, stupidly enough. She went ahead and got cleaned up while I was out, and¡­ Well, I know you''d spend weeks making jokes about how I''d need to step up my game.¡±


    Guilt flowed through the pale-furred female. It¡­wasn''t a prayer, was it¡­


    The answer to her unvoiced query came in the form of the same utterances being untranslated in one ear, the other finally placing meaning to the voice suffering crushing sorrow.


    ¡°I miss you¡­so, so much.¡±


    And like that, silence resumed, the pale-furred female sitting on her bed with emotions waging war. Sleep did eventually find her, but not without questions lingering as well.


    = = = = =


    The High Quesitar leaned back in his chair, releasing the button and allowing Illia the break her paws required. His equipment all reported exactly as he would expect from a tale hewn from truth, which was why he scowled at the readouts so harshly.


    Her cadence remained in line with standard deviations when accounting for the perceived emotional states, despite how minor the shifts in tone were. Her form was largely still, yet the slightest twitches and adjustments matched as well. Word choice and recollection speed was consistent with her records from the military and psyche profile¡ªbarring the overabundance of exuberance which had faded over time, though that had been accounted for. The only reading that bothered him was scent...


    It was one of the main detriments to interrogating a defect¡ªnot that he had done so more than once before, yet it still remained a pain in his hide. The graph was perfectly flat, suggesting that the baseline acquired over her containment was mirrored throughout the retelling of events so far. Normally, such would be impossible, as the recording equipment was magnitudes more sensitive than even the strongest Lilhun olfactory, but the stagnant line stared at him regardless, unmoved and undisturbed. To be expected, yet aggravating all the same.


    He was unable to even test if her claim of modification was true since the machines worked by sampling variance of various pheromones, then tracking the divergence as questioning progressed. Regulations and procedural codes forbid him from entering the room directly to confirm it, which removed that option for the time being. All he could do was stare at the STO¡¯s pheromone production which had yet to shift even the slightest amount¡ªa result that made his job needlessly more difficult.


    He sighed, shaking his head when his assistant raised a brow in silent query of if he was well. ¡°There is much to probe and ponder.¡±


    Illia smiled sympathetically. ¡°Then we are fortunate to have been paired.¡±


    ¡°Quite,¡± he huffed in amusement, grunting as he straightened his posture and reached for the intercom again. ¡°Your words lead me to believe that your ¡®cohabitant¡¯ was of a species that even those of my station are unfamiliar with. ¡®Human,¡¯ was it?¡±


    Dead eyes flickered in response. ¡°Correct.¡±


    ¡°Why might their existence be revealed to you, but not our people as a whole?¡±


    ¡°I do not know,¡± she admitted. ¡°There might be many reasons, but I would only be able to provide postulations¡ªmuch the same as yourself.¡±


    Heroon released the button long enough to knead his temple. ¡°This ¡®human¡¯ remained unbothered by your condition for the duration of the ¡®test?¡¯¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And you had abandoned hope that a mate or otherwise would be found amongst your own?¡±


    ¡°I had.¡±


    He grunted his acceptance of the firm answer, not oblivious to the somewhat disgruntled expression on his assistant¡¯s face. ¡°Your story implies that you had not given up on finding such entirely, however.¡±


    The implied question was not lost on the contained STO. ¡°There was much I held hope for, though I would be unable to claim if I had any specific intentions then.¡±


    ¡°Yet until this point, you have mentioned praying for such with stalwart regularity. This is the first time such was not specified.¡±


    Life came to the voice of the grey and yellow-furred female¡ªenough to be pegged as an abnormality on his monitoring software, but not enough to say what caused it. ¡°There was no need.¡±


    Illia and him shared a curious glance. ¡°You believed the Hunt Mother abandoned you? You must have, assuming this was all she could provide.¡±


    A smile¡ªsoft and warm, yet tinted with sadness¡ªfully formed on her normally vacant muzzle. ¡°You misunderstand, High Quesitar. The Mother had given her kit one which needed her as much as she needed him.¡±


    ¡°What might be offered by an alien?¡±


    Her pupils constricted slightly as she shifted her gaze. ¡°More than I was ever offered by kin¡­¡±

 Chapter 5

    Sunundra dragged herself out of bed, wisps of events from the moon before tugging at her thoughts. She debated about if it would be acceptable to ask about the... No, it was a private conversation. If she wished to keep her own secrets, then the male could have his. If anything, it was rude for her to have listened as long as she did¡­ Besides, knowing that her temporary den-mate truly held no animosity towards her was a salve for her soul, but it brought context to the idea that he was alone, even if it wasn¡¯t in quite the way she had thought.


    Her assumption was that he shared the same circumstance as her¡ªisolated and bereft of affection¡ªbut the communication suggested otherwise. He was still separated, but it was likely that one of his mates was waiting for his presence wherever he was from. The discovery soothed her concern for the other who treated her kindly, and yet also stoked a fear that had spent but a fraction of time quenched.


    A fear which waited beneath the tentative excitement at finding more than distaste for her presence.


    He would leave again, the male returning to his pack, while she would be left to face the consequences of her twisted defect amongst those who had already despised her¡­ And she would do it alone.


    That was fine! She would just make the most of the situation and use what she learned to make a friend here while she could. Her condition wasn¡¯t even mentioned in passing, which was promising. Maybe their people simply didn¡¯t mind? As strange as it would be, she hardly suffered for such a peculiarity in the alien species¡ªshe could hope at least, ignoring how often such backfires.


    As long as she had hope¡­


    The shreds of optimism allowed her the energy to get dressed for the sun, donning a rather plain set of attire that was typically used for ¡®relaxation¡¯ between deployments; a pair of deep crimson pants were made of durable fabric, and the black sleeveless top fit her form snugly. Boring as far as clothing goes, but adequate enough.


    Her door opened to the rest of the den as Bill was leaving the kitchen with two plates of food¡ªthe one devoid of any yeasty items compensating with extra meat. His brows raised in surprise, a small smile shaping his lips as he greeted her in a gentle voice.


    ¡°G¡¯morning, miss.¡±


    ¡°G-greetings,¡± she replied absently, watching the male set the larger table. Even accepting that the kindness he offered wasn¡¯t so fleeting, she held her breath in anticipation.


    Truthfully, she wasn''t quite prepared to jump into interactions with him. Before, she could use the same mindset and carry her heart behind a shield of false confidence and insincere whispers of success. Now that actual progress wasn¡¯t just a passing wish, but something that might be gained, the weight of her words turned her tongue into lead, each utterance carrying the burden of being one which might ruin the possibility of more.


    How far would her spirits fall if she failed the first true chance at something beyond mere tolerance?


    He gestured to one of the chairs and walked back through the archway again, the sound of pouring liquid following. Hesitantly, she complied to the silent request, taking a seat in front of what she assumed to be her plate while wrapping her tail around her waist to keep it out of the way. He returned after a few moments, placing a glass of clear liquid alongside both meals before taking the spot across from her.


    ¡°It kind of occurred to me that we should go over your actual dietary needs,¡± he started with a casual lilt, shifting his seat closer to the table.


    Satisfied with the positioning, he offered a smile and used a fork to spear a strip of meat that looked to have been fried. He popped it in his mouth, holding a finger up to request a moment, letting his wrist hang limply when he was finished.


    ¡°It¡¯s better than just knowing what you do or don¡¯t like, since it gives us a starting point. Humans, for example, are omnivores, so we can eat pretty much whatever we can get down¡ªas long as it doesn¡¯t kill us, anyway. Now, just because we can doesn¡¯t mean we should; after all, someone ate an entire plane once, and you won¡¯t see that on the dietary requirements.¡±


    Sunundra selected the same item he had chosen off her plate curiously, pausing before taking a bite. She blinked as his words registered. ¡°A...plane?¡±


    ¡°Close! Airplane.¡± He chuckled, the laughter bolstering at her visible confusion. ¡°Please tell me that puns translate. That was too good.¡±


    A moment of mentally reviewing the progression with the unaided vocalizations had her smiling shyly. ¡°It appears they do not, but I understand now.¡±


    ¡°Bah. That¡¯s no fun.¡±


    A giggle slipped out of her as he made a show of grumbling and starting on his meal fully. How strange it was for such a simple interaction to ease her toiling mind.


    ¡°Your people eat aircraft?¡± she asked, frowning at the thought as she tried to withhold judgement at such a strange possibility. ¡°Is it a cultural tradition?¡±


    The male smirked, shaking his head. ¡°No, but someone wanted to¡ªor he might have had a disorder, though I don''t remember. I''m not sure what the time frame was, but he had it cut into small enough pieces and eventually managed to do the whole thing. Anyway, no, but we can eat whatever fits, for the most part. Minus the random oddball tossing glass or screws in their mouth, we typically do meat, veg, fruit, some minerals, and trace metals in food. What about you?¡±


    She sampled another item on her plate, enjoying the fatty taste of the meat strips. ¡°We are primarily carnivores. Vegetables and fruits are acceptable additions to some meals in smaller quantities¡­though they are not substitutes. Such may suffice for shorter durations in times of hardship.¡±


    ¡°I can work with that. More meat, less everything else, avoid bread... Alright.¡± He grew a teasing grin, pointing at her with his fork. ¡°You¡¯ll be missing out on a few of my favourites though.¡±


    The pale-furred female shook her head in amusement, pausing when she realized that they were actually eating together. An odd thing to note, but...


    ¡°You okay?¡± She looked up from her food to see Bill covering his mouth with his wrist. ¡°You looked...down, I guess. Don¡¯t like it?¡±


    Her paws moved to rectify the issue, grabbing a white elliptical item. An egg? ¡°Apologies, I was merely attempting to recall how long it had been since I have shared a meal with another.¡±


    He frowned contemplatively, slowing further chewing to a crawl before finally swallowing. ¡°Should we not? I don¡¯t want to force it or anything. I don¡¯t know how your culture does meal times.¡±


    ¡°We...¡± She cycled a breath, offering a smile that was smaller than she would have liked. ¡°No, communal meals are a trait I assume we share.¡±


    ¡°But you eat alone usually?¡± he voiced softly, his tone lacking a judgmental edge. The silent bow of her head had him hum in thought. ¡°I take it you¡¯d rather that? I can¡ª¡°


    ¡°¡ªNo,¡± Sunundra interrupted. It was short and clipped, yet she managed to withhold the flash of panic. She shrank in embarrassment at the outburst. ¡°N-no, this is fine.¡±


    The male gazed at her with curiosity and...pity, the expression banished and replaced with a wry smile. ¡°Good. Eating alone is nice sometimes, but I prefer a full table.¡±


    She nodded her agreement, the wistful air to his statement adding to all the other questions she had. Bill picked one of the yeasty items on his plate¡ªeither ¡®toast¡¯ or ¡®waffles,¡¯ she wasn¡¯t sure of the distinction yet¡ªand took a bite, his long breath telling of one query abandoned for another.


    ¡°So how did you end up enrolled in the program? Something tells me that this wasn''t planned or anything.¡±


    Her claws stopped over the next item as she debated about how to answer. ¡°I...am repaying a debt.¡±


    ¡°Debt?¡± His interested cadence faltered, a hasty reassurance taking its place. ¡°If you want to talk about it, I mean. I was just curious.¡±


    ¡°The Union proposed it as compensation. They claimed to possess a method to...fix that which was malfunctioning.¡±


    The male rolled his eyes upwards in thought, then returned his regard to her with a shrug. ¡°They have a lot of random technology. I won¡¯t ask what, but are you better now? Or it. Whichever.¡±


    A bitter smirk spread on her muzzle. ¡°...No.¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh¡­ I¡¯m sorry to hear that, miss. I didn¡¯t mean to pry.¡±


    A silence lingered between them, Bill¡¯s conflicted expression bringing the atmosphere of the room down with it. He cleared his throat.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t supposed to be here myself.¡±


    She perked an ear, the mental murmur of her own failure to maintain her welcoming tone abating as curiosity took over. ¡°I must admit, I never much wondered why one such as yourself would be here.¡±


    He snorted in his somewhat dry amusement. ¡°Money.¡±


    ¡°Is the compensation so extravagant?¡± she queried, musing how much something like this would even offer. If he had his pack waiting for him and he was required to be alone, surely it must be a truly considerable amount. She was unsure if she would have given up even the pitiful interactions she had for this; only the promise of an existence less sorrowful drew her here. Was Bill the same?


    ¡°No,¡± he admitted, laying down his cutlery on the empty plate and grabbing his glass of water. He leaned back in his chair, his posture suggesting he was sated, but not eased. ¡°It was a ¡®last minute¡¯ change in plans. I was supposed to work near Sol¡ªsome sort of construction gig¡ªbut the boss¡¯ contract had a legal fallout. He asked the crew if they wanted to do a different job, or he could bring us back.¡±


    ¡°And you chose to accept?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Bill sighed, a tint of doubt creeping into his voice. ¡°I didn¡¯t have much in the way of options; it paid more than what we were initially going to get, but it also involved going much further out than I had intended.¡±


    She tried to stymie her curiosity, but the words flowed despite her wishes. ¡°I would imagine it is rather difficult to be away from your pack.¡±


    He hummed¡ªfirst in understanding, then in confusion. He brought a claw to his ear. ¡°Huh...¡±


    ¡°A-apologies...¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not you.¡± The male waved a paw, his gaze wandering the ceiling. ¡°That word carries a lot of meanings, which kind of screws with the translation. It¡¯s pretty good with context usually. I¡¯m honestly not quite sure what you mean.¡±


    She blinked, befuddled about how such a simple¡ª Ah. Alien. ¡°Your den?¡±


    He frowned, tilting his head in mild concession. ¡°Less confusing, but still loaded. Both have ¡®hierarchy,¡¯ ¡®family,¡¯ and ¡®loyalty¡¯ tags in the lexicon, but... Man, I don¡¯t envy whoever the linguists for this are.¡±


    Sunundra wilted in her chair, looking down at the excess of fruits she found undesirable to consume for the moment. It was strange to her for such ingrained concepts to only be expressed through its components, and frustrating that it caused a barrier between them.


    Any further attempt to explain was muted by a jarring buzzer emitting from the exit. She looked over her shoulder, reading the order on the door as she internally debated if it had saved her from knowledge which might burden her, or merely stoked her curiosity.


    ¡°I am to report for a medical evaluation,¡± she relayed with a forced sigh, unwilling to admit to herself that she perhaps was placing too much importance on his response to a question that may have been somewhat invasive. Bill raised a brow, but smiled lightly regardless, pushing his chair out with his legs as he stood.


    ¡°You go ahead. I¡¯ll clean up here.¡±


    Though she wanted to argue that she should be helping, the instructions stated she was to leave shortly, and it would reflect poorly if she were to appear ungrateful for the efforts expended for her¡­''benefit.¡¯ She nodded politely all the same. ¡°Apologies. I am grateful for the meal and your time.¡±


    His stiff expression softened, a guilty inflection to his voice. ¡°You¡¯re welcome, miss. Sorry to bother you with all the questions.¡±


    Her protest went unvoiced, the pale-furred female resigning herself to simply preparing for her departure. How strange it was to feel so contrite because she had offered so little information.


    - - - - -


    Pain. The pain just got worse with every step and every breath.


    The hallways Sunundra travelled through were as empty as the last time she left, but this time they had taken her to a section that was much wider. The gym wasn¡¯t something she had been expecting, but it also wasn¡¯t a complete enigma to her; she did the training regimens required of her at the base, then elected to modify the routines to be completed in her room after the others made it clear she was unwelcome. It came with the unfortunate side effect of never really surpassing her previous bests for most exercises.


    Running though? Running had never been her strong suit. She typically designed her explosives to be directional so that she need not flee quite as far.


    The treadmill they provided in the large room was rather¡­unforgiving; it forced her to sprint at full speed until her lungs threatened to collapse, then only dialed back enough so that she didn¡¯t drop dead. Admittedly, that wasn¡¯t an outcome she would have protested against the other sun, but now¡­


    Her arm became an ashen black pit of torture as her heart rate increased, pushing fresh blood through the bruised skin hidden beneath the grey and seared fur. Yet it remained whole and unburned, merely agitated by the additional stress provoking whatever caused the sensation of chunks being ripped out of her perception of self.


    As soon as she had been exhausted by a Void-driven routine, she was directed to place the limb in an odd machine for a blood sample. After recalling that Bill experienced much the same, she complied, a sharp pinch bringing forth a gasp as something pierced her flesh. Try as she might, the contraption gripped her limb too tightly for her to dislodge it prematurely. Several long moments had passed before she was finally freed, then she was left light-headed for the trouble, a new focus joining the all-encompassing burn. The screen on the wall offered only hollow gratitude for her cooperation before dismissing her.


    And so, her lethargic footsteps carried her back to the den which she shared with the strange ¡®human,¡¯ thoughts of how to interpret his words and what she should do influencing her mind, while the flares of agony blinded her. She had forgotten to apply a patch in her urge to socialize, then needed to prepare for the physical evaluation. She hadn¡¯t remembered how overeager her actions were until the sting started.


    Now that sting had become a maelstrom of blades cutting away underneath her weary flesh. She chased after and distracted herself with any musings of Bill, because anything else carried darker thoughts along with it. At least she held a chance at something beyond disdain with him.


    Each conversation the alien male allowed¡ªno matter how brief¡ªunveiled new layers of deflection and secrecy, yet she couldn¡¯t find it within herself to distrust him. Granted, she held quite a few details close to her chest, but where Sunundra hid herself behind half-truths, Bill simply requested privacy with his tone. It made her all the more curious, yet hesitant. The crux of the issue was that she had little idea what a proper den actually was, and a pack which wished for you was but a concept others partook in¡ªsomething she was never to have or witness personally. Should she question more? Should she seek his company?


    So many uncertainties. So many points of failure waiting for her to reach them.


    The haze had lightened somewhat as she approached the alloy entrance to where more than herself resided, yet it never truly cleared¡ªthe occasional stumble and paw bracing against the featureless corridors were a testament to that. Every beat of her heart intensified the hammering drum of acid and salt that scoured fresh unseen wounds, intensifying every flash of blinding pain until gasping for breath was an exercise in commitment to more suffering. The only saving grace was that the door of her den opened automatically, allowing her to nudge it closed again and hobble to the couch before collapsing atop of it.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Spinning. Everything was spinning and she hated it. The Void screamed at her from the inside, demanding another faithful to sate its unending hunger. It tore at her, muscle and bone cracked and shredded.


    Yet she was whole. Whole, but fading. Consciousness leaving as the tendrils of the Void wrapped and clutched her throat. The blackness crept and crawled over her vision, plugged and deafened her ears.


    Then, as all else was lost, a pinkish hue coloured her blurred sight, a scent both heavy and warm filling her lungs.


    The black wasn¡¯t quite so terrifying¡­


    - - - - -


    A groan. It was quiet, but it took a moment before she registered it as of her own doing. An attempted wince barely moved anything, her body ignoring the demand to rise. It was too much. She was too tired. Too weak.


    A bleary eye cracked just the slightest amount.


    The boring outlines of her room came into focus, the closet sitting just on the edge of her periphery. She didn¡¯t remember making it to her bed, but the soft material conformed to her shape regardless, a thin blanket placed over her to only leave her head exposed. A cool sensation sat on her forehead and spread to the space between her ears¡ªcold, but not uncomfortably so. She shifted to view more of her surroundings, breathing in to spite the latent survival instincts demanding she be perfectly still to avoid a threat in her pitiful state.


    A few things were noticed at once, but her mind chose two it deemed to be most important to focus on before the rest. The first was that Bill had brought a folding chair and table in, setting them up alongside her place of rest. A terminal sat atop the portable surface, the screen updating in text as he entered something into it, then changing as he referenced something else. A bowl of pureed food was next to the device, partially empty. A glass of cold water resided on the other side, a bent straw held in place by ice cubes. The alien male looked tired and worried, but remained diligent in his task.


    Her mind processed the second oddity: the smell.


    Perhaps it was due to being in a den with him since he arrived, or perhaps it was due to her slow acclimation to it over the initial attempt at hiding away, but the short absence made it more noticeable now that she had gone without. It¡­calmed her. It was a potent scent¡ªheady and thick¡ªbut comforting in its warmth and uniformity. It was so unlike anything else that she could only compare it to him. It was mildly distressing, yet rooted in stability just the same.


    Strange, yet¡­right. She was feeble¡ªunable to defend nor flee¡ªyet the male triggered not fear, but serenity. She was safe. She had another to assist.


    She was not alone?


    The male exhaled slightly louder as he stretched his back, a soft pop preceding the relaxation of his form. He bent over, the sound of water splashing against more leading to him sitting upright with a wringed cloth. He reached out absently and replaced the apparent source of soothing coolness with a new one. The disruption caused her ear to flick, the thin shell batting at the furless claws and drawing his somewhat amused gaze. His eyes widened a fraction as they met her own.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he cooed softly. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±


    Her voice failed to function, producing barely more than a small squeak. He placed a paw to her cheek, the pad of a claw stroking her jaw in steady, smooth lines.


    ¡°Shh. You passed out. Here.¡± He offered the glass of water, the bent straw resting against her lips before she accepted. The cold liquid eased the dry burn of her throat. He held it perfectly still, the soft caress of her fur continuing in soothing motions as she sated a need gone unnoticed. The drink was moved away the moment she had enough despite her lack of input, replaced by a spoon holding the pureed meat. She obliged without thinking, melting into the touch through her confusion as the thick slurry placed little strain on the weakened muscles in her throat.


    This repeated for a while, though she was unable to hazard a guess at how long due to the ebb and flow of wakefulness. She would blink, and he would seem to have moved. She would shift, and he would be absent. She would gasp in pain, and he would caress her coat, having returned to her side with the same gentle concern.


    He alternated between giving her water and food, replacing the cloth which cooled her once more, the previous application warmed beyond what he deemed acceptable. Her form was too worn to protest, surrendering to the strangely practiced motions of the male. Every action of his spoke of a routine long since ingrained, his expression carrying a soft smile and strained eyes, as if witnessing her in such a worthless state brought not irritation, but painful memory.


    It¡­saddened her. Relief that she had woken was shadowed by a vicious suffering that threatened to repeat¡­ Threatened to strike again. To swallow her whole.


    Yet his touch remained, spreading affection and care with every slow travel of the claw across her features. Her pain was forgotten¡ªpresent, yet deemed unworthy of her notice.


    All that existed in that moment was him.


    A blurry edge to her vision was noticed by her unexpected caretaker, his claws brushing under her eyes to remove the dampness as his tortured smile remained like a mournful beacon in the Void. She knew not exactly why she silently cried, but it pulled at her¡­ Unlike the wishful embrace of the endless expanse, this grasped at her fragmented heart gingerly, collecting each piece with kindness and whispering how beautiful it would be when assembled once more. It whispered voiceless words devoid of meaning, yet filled with intent. It whispered acceptance and affection in a language unknown, yet intrinsically understood.


    It whispered. She listened.


    Darkness claimed the room as her eyelids struggled to remain open despite her struggle, his voice and scent carrying her into the depths of the black that did not tear at her, for it was too busy embracing her with a gentle touch.


    ¡°Sleep. I¡¯ll be here. You¡¯re not alone.¡±


    Where her form failed to weep, her soul succeeded.


    - - - - -


    Pain, but less. It spread from her core to her limbs, then ran back to the source, dulled and diluted. Her breath drew confusion, yet it was stifled by the return of the scent which previously remained in the background.


    Bill.


    She huffed, taking in the soothing scent that leaked off him, her mind too blurry to question why it seemed so similar to the moon he claimed it to be unpleasant. Her vision gained definition with a few laboured blinks.


    ¡°How are you feeling?¡±


    She focused on the male next to her bed, his terminal powered off on the table. ¡°Apologies. I am merely¡­tired.¡±


    He chuckled, the sound making the suffering and throbbing pain easier to manage. ¡°Do you want me to get you something for that?¡±


    Her silent nod drew a wince, but he simply smiled and patted the bed, walking out of the room and presumably into the kitchen. She faded in and out of coherency until he returned with a pale yellow drink.


    ¡°Here. I¡¯m guessing they took more than they should have. The apple juice should bring your sugars back up and help hydrate you.¡±


    Her feeble attempts to grab for the items earned a softer expression from the male as he produced a straw for the beverage, bending the end and holding it near her muzzle. With a word of encouragement, she obliged, sipping at the cold liquid that somehow revitalized her very core. Once she felt awake enough, she sat up with some aid from the male, resting her back against the wall as she held the glass. Bill took back his spot on the folding chair, watching her with a patient kindness.


    She paused half way through the beverage, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye to see him raise his brows in an idle show of interest. A sense of shame surfaced within her for being so pathetic as to need such diligent care, yet she was overwhelmed with¡­something. ¡°I must express my gratitude for your assistance.¡±


    He shook his head with a dismissive wave of his paw. ¡°It was nothing, miss. I was just worried, and well¡­ I¡¯m glad you seem better.¡±


    A silence lingered between them as curiosity outbid the odd feeling in her chest. ¡°You seem rather accustomed to the task of tending to others. Was that your profession?¡±


    The polite and soft smile faltered, a downcast expression following his gaze falling to the floor. A sombre tint to his response broke the quiet atmosphere. ¡°Well, no. I guess I just got used to it over the years.¡± He gestured towards the nearly empty glass. ¡°Refill?¡±


    Her hesitation was overruled by the remaining stiffness in her muscles. ¡°I would be grateful if you would.¡±


    ¡°Not a problem. More apple? Or would you rather water?¡±


    ¡°Water, if possible.¡±


    Bill offered a playful wink over the weak grin. ¡°Coming right up.¡±


    She regained more of her faculties during his short absence, checking herself for injuries and wincing once she brushed over the site where blood was drawn for a sample. A quick bend to grab her bag and to apply a pain-patch finally stifled the uncomfortable sting. It was nice to finally have the mental space to think with the sensation so dulled. Of course, her thoughts drifted to her new den-mate instantly, revolving around the look in his eyes and the gentleness of his touch upon her fur.


    It was¡­new. New, yet old. Far beyond the dreams of what a true den might one sun be, yet reminiscent of events long since passed. The love that poured through a gaze at a younger form of herself¡ªa form unmarred by the defect. A dedication that would last until the Void, and perhaps it would continue regardless.


    Unlike her memory, the new was not directed towards her, but nor did it fade. She had merely bathed in echoes of that which was meant for another. She worried that it would spell a bitter end to the developing acceptance, but a deep part of her drank it in heavily. It absorbed and hoarded it, all but hissing at the thought of losing such a precious thing.


    Oh, how addictive it seemed to be.


    Bill returned with a fresh glass of water, giving no indication that caring for her bothered him one way or the other. He took his previous position by the bed, his eyes ever vigil in case she was in need of him, yet exuding a pleasant aura as she soaked her parched palate. It was enough to bring back queries¡ªthe first of which left her lips as the drink was lowered.


    ¡°What is your territory like?¡± she asked absently, blinking when Bill tilted his head to work out what she meant. It seemed this word was less complex for the translator, thankfully, because he simply pursed his lips in contemplation rather than confusion.


    ¡°A tad broad, but if you mean what I think you mean, then I¡¯d guess you meant my city.¡± He scratched at the stubble on his jaw. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ Well, it¡¯s not bad, per se, but it¡¯s not great. Lots of people in not very much space. I hear it was good maybe twenty years ago, but we only moved there just before the Union, so things got messy pretty much as soon as we were settled in.¡±


    ¡°¡®We?¡¯ Are you referring to your den-pack?¡±


    Bill flinched, sorrow tainting the false smile. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s a bit clearer. Y-yeah, I am. Anyway, it¡¯s a bit rough nowadays. Job security is¡­dicey at best with the advancements in microelectronics leaking into the civilian space. It was great at first, but where there¡¯s cost-cutting advancements, there¡¯s companies with costs to be cut. It was supposed to free up labour for other sectors¡ªand it did¡­in a way¡ªbut that just led to people like me getting left in the dust as civilization moved on. Everything got pretty expensive before we knew it and¡­ The countryside is supposedly still mostly unaffected, but affording the move all the way out there wasn¡¯t much more viable.¡±


    Her ears drooped as she listened with rapt attention, noting the avoidance of speaking about his den. There were a few parts where her translator needed to provide options based on what might be the intended message, but she was able to piece it together without much effort. At least she knew what he meant by ¡®tags¡¯ now.


    ¡°May I ask questions?¡± she asked belatedly, chastising herself for getting ahead of herself. He nodded, the guilty expression making her own deepen. She cycled a breath, grasping her water with both paws as she watched the rippling reflection stare up at her. ¡°Whom might you be referring to when you say ¡®people like me?¡¯¡±


    ¡°Uneducated?¡± he proposed tentatively, placing one arm on the folding table for balance as he shifted on his chair. The male huffed in mild amusement at her confusion. ¡°Unskilled labour was the first to go once everything was delegated to compu¡ª terminals, sorry. But yeah, if you didn¡¯t have a degree in something? Well, pretty soon you found yourself without much in the way of options.¡±


    ¡°Could you not seek the education required for your field?¡±


    He shook his head, rubbing two claws together. ¡°Money. It costs too much and takes too long. I couldn¡¯t afford to be without an income until I had a chance at getting something that everybody else was aiming for.¡± A deep sigh followed his wandering gaze, Bill absently taking in the main area with little interest in the contents. ¡°I had other things to worry about anyway.¡±


    ¡°Such as?¡± she pressed lightly, shrinking while berating herself for not being satisfied with what little information she was given. Her nose twitched as she noticed a strange tinge to the air.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to ruin the mood of everything with my sob story,¡± he dismissed with a smirk. ¡°Come on, what about you? I¡¯m sure your home is miles more interesting.¡±


    She fell quiet as she remembered the yelling. The shouting. The blame from the community and the slowly cracking veneer of what she thought a den was supposed to be. She remembered the disgust of the den-parents who once doted on her, followed by asking her blood-parents why they never returned.


    She remembered when they didn¡¯t pick her up from the church¡­


    ¡­No matter how hard she prayed¡­


    ¡°A soldier,¡± she responded weakly, repressed memories stuffed down once more. Her smile was painted back on, just as it should be. ¡°I am a soldier. My pack and territory are such.¡±


    His gaze pierced her, intense and focused. Worry built and threatened to crack at the walls of her facade, but an exhale from the male replaced the stone expression with a wistful one. He looked around the room as if only just noticing where he was, gesturing towards the chemicals and various components.


    ¡°Is this for a hobby? It looks neat.¡±


    The translator offered both ¡®intriguing¡¯ and ¡®tidy,¡¯ Sunundra pausing as she compared the two in context. ¡°It is both my hobby and my¡­¡± She cycled a breath. ¡°It is my specialty.¡±


    He hummed an impressed note. ¡°I¡¯m really only good at making a fool of myself. What is it? Chemistry?¡±


    ¡°E-explosives,¡± she offered softly, awaiting the disdain. When it didn¡¯t come, she held her glass closer, refusing to look away from it. ¡°I create and modify destructive means of entry.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡±


    Her eyes closed even harder, straining with the urge to hide from herself¡ªthe female who would rather ¡®toy with the Void¡¯ than embrace another.


    ¡°How so?¡±


    Her head snapped to the contemplative male rubbing his jaw as he inspected the materials. ¡°Pardon?¡±


    He waved a paw at the items and leaned in to view them more closely. ¡°How do you go from this¡­stuff to ¡®boom?¡¯ It all looks like powders or blocks. Maybe a liquid or two¡­ Do you make small charges to pop open locked doors, or is it a ¡®I don¡¯t like this wall¡¯ kind of thing?¡±


    She blinked dumbly. ¡°I-it would depend on the requirements presented¡­¡±


    Bill returned a sly grin. ¡°Which is more fun?¡±


    ¡°You¡­do not think it is courting death?¡±


    He leaned back, furrowing his brows doubtfully. ¡°Why would I? You¡¯re a soldier right?¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°And you get your people into places they need to be, right? Especially when any other way is too dangerous?¡±


    ¡°Y-yes¡­¡±


    He jabbed a claw at the chemicals. ¡°Do you use these to kill people?¡±


    ¡°Such¡­occurs¡­but it is not what I find joy in.¡± The pale-furred female fell quiet, her voice but a whisper. ¡°There is no art in that.¡±


    The male displayed an upturned paw, his visage softening. ¡°There¡¯s your answer. You¡¯re not ¡®courting death,¡¯ you¡¯re making things safer for the people you care about. I¡¯m willing to bet you go through a lot of trouble so that your tools only do what¡¯s needed.¡±


    Her gaze returned to him, a cinder within her chest feeling the breeze of air where only stagnation was promised, the glow illuminating the darkness. ¡°What causes you to speak with such certainty?¡±


    His paws returned to his lap as he fully faced her, his expression simple, yet sympathetic. ¡°Because I can¡¯t picture someone who¡¯s so afraid of mistakes¡ªyet tries so hard anyway¡ªaimlessly blowing everything to hell.¡±


    ¡°You cannot¡­know that¡­¡± A furless paw rested on her shoulder, drawing her regard once more. Bill nodded slowly, defeat and fondness in equal measure within his eyes.


    ¡°No, but I choose to think I¡¯m right about you. You¡¯re a kind person, miss. I wish there were more like you.¡±


    It was silent, but the cinders received the oxygen it was deprived of for so long. Iced veins melted, frozen shelters protecting her fragile core evaporated, and she was motionless in front of one whose scent brought comfort as flames rose within, warming that which had been eroded by the beckoning Void.


    ¡°...dra¡­¡±


    He hummed questioningly, flinching away from their point of contact as he noticed it. Her paw stopped his own from leaving as she bashfully stared at her lap.


    ¡°My name is Sunundra,¡± she breathed, the words leaving as if any more force would crack the delicate feeling inside. The pain of impending rejection was oddly¡­absent. Her very soul smiled in time with the strange alien male.


    ¡°Sunundra¡­ It matches your fur,¡± he commented absently. Her confusion caused his cheeks to redden as he coughed into a fist. ¡°You¡¯re¡­yellow and grey. It¡¯s like you¡¯re the sun peeking between the clouds for whoever you talk to, brightening their day¡­¡±


    The irony hit her like a rogue transport, but the sincerity in his voice stopped the bitter laughter. He politely pulled his paw back.


    ¡°You¡¯re just a beam of sunshine, huh?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she sighed, the tension relaxing in muscles she didn¡¯t even know she had. ¡°You would be the first to see my form as anything but an omen of ill tidings.¡±


    A frown matched well with the irritated roll of his eyes. ¡°Fine. You¡¯re my sunshine.¡± He stood, offering a paw. ¡°Come on. I made meatloaf with the weird stuff. I need someone to tell me how crap it is, and you look like you¡¯d be honest with me.¡±


    She accepted the help in standing without thinking, blinking as he left both the room and her behind. The warmth decreased without him near, reverberations of the Void bouncing off the walls of her core. Bill¡¯s voice called for her, banishing the endless black effortlessly as his humour-filled cadence poured a joy where only suffering had existed before.


    ¡°Come on, Sunshine. There¡¯s no escaping this!¡±


    A smile crept across her muzzle, just as it¡­ No. This wasn¡¯t a simulacrum shown to others. This was hers.


    Her feet carried her closer to the scent which embraced her very being with tender kindness, dampness stinging at her eyes as even the dull ache that her painkillers left behind vanished.


    Escape¡­ No. She would not escape this. This was the escape. This was a place¡­a den¡­that she shared with a friend. They were both still cloaked in shadows of secrets¡ªpain unspoken and scars just out of sight¡ªbut those were dissolving. He would learn of her, and she of him.


    The tiny fire within flickered.


    ¡°O¡¯Mother of this soul, your faithful is¡­¡± She glanced back at the terminal and remains of what might have been snacks consumed while she was resting. How long had Bill been tending to her, wearing his worried smile for when she awoke? How often did he change the cool cloth and provide water to her writhing form? ¡°...Your faithful is¡­¡±


    Sunundra exhaled. What Void rips at the male in places he ensures others do not see? How much can one afford to give before there was none left for themselves?


    Would she sit idle while another tried to discover what lies beyond that which she had grown too fearful to continue?


    ¡°Your faithful asks for protection of another, for she has met a weary soul in your domain. Be it from the unending erosion of life, or the ire of kin unmet, she seeks this one to be welcomed as your kit, if only in your eyes. He is strange and different, yet sees past the trial this faithful faces. Your faithful asks of you to accept them as you accepted her. Your faithful awaits, O¡¯Mother.¡±


    If the shadows cloaked them both, then she would offer to him what he did to her. She would offer her light so that he might see.


    ¡­Yes. She would be his ¡®Sunshine,¡¯ because he had given her something infinitely more valuable.


    Hope¡­true hope.


    The world could dismiss such all it wished.


    She would never let it go.

 Chapter 6

    The conversation Sunundra started in her room had needled into old wounds for both of them, but Bill respectfully strayed away from topics which brought forth memories that were better left untouched after that. In return, she kept her queries to herself, letting the bubbling curiosity solidify lest an errant topic bring sorrow to his eyes again.


    It¡­hurt when he gazed beyond their den and into a past he wished not to burden her with. It was almost as if he worried she would think less of him, or perhaps he thought she had suffered enough and that his pain would only strain her further. A foolish premise perhaps, but one that she found comforting to muse. The very concept that someone would worry for her fanned the flames within, but to hold concern that their own suffering would bring her more was¡­


    It hardly mattered now. Bill had brought out the meal which used animals native to Iras, and although it was certainly new to him, it was still quite good. What''s more, he had been mindful of providing only that which she wouldn''t need to refrain from, apparently having watched¡ªor at least noticed¡ªhow much she ate of the other items and adjusted accordingly. It was quite the meal to have after being asleep for a while, though the idle query was met with a sobering answer.


    She had been unconscious for the better part of two suns, and although she had apparently stirred a few times, only the one instance of wakefulness was within recollection. She could only imagine what state she was in for him to have brought his things along to pass the time while tending to her.


    On top of his surprising diligence, he admitted that he had been taking notes about her condition to keep track of her health, and that what he had been constantly referencing were relevant records he had on paw. Why he had such a thing readily available was anyone''s guess, but his weakened tone ceased that line of questioning before it could even begin.


    Loss. Pain. Isolation. She knew what resided beneath the smiling facade and casually dismissive gestures. She wanted to know, but the fragile platform on which she stood could not bear the weight of her voicing the curiosity. His willful ignorance to her scent was enough. She would be content with that.


    Yet something demanded more. Like a shout drowned out by the storm, she wished to find what plagued the strange male, then offer aid however she could. He provided conversation and a welcoming grin. He provided care and concern. He provided the soft caress upon her cheek to silence the panic upon waking from a rest most unexpected.


    How gingerly such a touch was given. How calming she had found it. She should have been wary, if not scared, yet it was slow and affectionate. Reassuring and promising. He had chosen to care for her, and that was all the reason he needed to do so. Even the most distrustful aspects of her soul quieted beneath his claws, adamant that no harm would come from it. How strange for the first contact she had experienced in¡­


    She fell still as she applied the powdered chemicals to the rods coated in a thin adhesive, a project she mused when Bill refused to vilify her role as a demolitions expert. He saw beyond the means she used to secure a result, then merely smiled when she got excited while speaking about it, even if she had spent some time rambling about her fascination with the items she so often made.


    It was strange for one to have life brought to their visage when she spoke openly and without practiced planning, yet he glowed with interest as his smirk crooked into befuddlement and humour. Afterwards, he mentioned something called ¡®fireworks,¡¯ for which the translator offered ¡®recreational explosives.¡¯


    To say she was elated was an understatement, but instead of recoiling at her enthusiasm, the male simply smiled and promised to show her a recording of an event where the ¡®fireworks¡¯ were implemented as a main attraction. It motivated her to revisit old designs and show him what first gained her interest in the craft, as well as how she often spent her time whenever there wasn¡¯t a particular need to design something specific.


    As usual, her contentment came at a price. He had been called away from their meal by a chirping sound from his terminal, then returned with a hesitant expression.


    He was to leave for several suns.


    Even her best preparation would bend and crack at the news, but having come down from her excitement and merriment? It was a crushing blow to her in every way.


    The pale-furred female looked up from her hobby, gazing at the empty room that carried none of her den-mate¡¯s scent. It was cold. It was silent. It was as if the Void had simply retreated to strike anew, and had now begun to prod at the edges of her thoughts while it awaited a weakness. Waiting to tear her asunder.


    Bill had been summoned for a ¡®progress report¡¯ of some kind¡ªa meeting that was explained to her as a method of consolidating the opinions of the other human participants within one place, free of influence that might come from the species they were to speak about being close. He had reiterated several times that he shouldn¡¯t be gone too long and that she would hear of anything interesting that happened while he was away. It seemed to be more for his sake than hers, yet it soothed some part of her all the same.


    In fact, he had appeared as unsettled by the news as she was, his attempts to hide it behind a smile falling somewhat flat. He glanced at her when he thought she wasn¡¯t looking, he took to reading on his terminal in the main area instead of his room, and his ritual before rest became tense all the way up until his departure. She hadn¡¯t listened since the first time she could understand him, but the general tone carried through the walls. He was worried about his absence. He was worried about her.


    She clutched that knowledge close to her chest, using the warmth it brought to ignore the stillness that settled in the den, only the sounds of her breathing and the soft shuffle of powder reaching her ears.


    The last rod was placed with the rest, using up the last of the materials she had prepared. There weren¡¯t many¡ªeven a paltry six could be dangerous if misused¡ªbut it would be enough to properly demonstrate the other facet of her designation.


    A phantom sensation on her shoulder reminded her of their farewell, his paw squeezing gently in an amicable display¡ªfriendly, but respectfully distant. His words remained centered on her health until he was forced to leave, telling her again and again to sleep, eat, and take care of herself. It sowed a strange fear in her, yet it did not come from within, instead soaking through her very flesh to permeate her being.


    Strange, but it felt every bit as natural as blood moving through her veins. Odd, but nothing felt out of place. Peculiar, but something which slotted into her perception perfectly, as if she had already been designed to feel such. As if it would be foolish for any other sensation to be experienced.


    As if she was meant to.


    A sigh escaped her as her eyes drifted to the display hidden in her wall, only a segment of it visible from her current angle. Unfortunately, she still didn¡¯t understand what caused it to increment, but it had done so several times since he had left. Several numbers of unknown script. Several rests feeling like something was missing. Several suns pining for a scent she couldn¡¯t find anywhere else.


    Why was such a unique smell the only one she could truly attribute to a single person? Better yet, why did she feel so hollow without it?


    She lacked another to ask, and the prayers to her Goddess remained unanswered.


    The priests had often told her that she had sinned, commanding her to seek forgiveness for whichever trespass brought forth the defect. She did, for she was but a kit without a pack, and she had been raised to place faith above self. She had prayed to be forgiven for every action she could think of up to that point, then switched to begging mercy for even the smallest show of weakness.


    The Hunt Mother did not smile upon the frail of soul. She did not deign to listen to prayers of those who would not fight for their aspirations. She did not bless those who surrendered before they had done all they could.


    The Mother gave boons to her faithful when their trials were matched with sincerity, and according to both her blood-mother and the temple, she had been given the greatest trial, yet stood to gain the greatest reward if she succeeded.


    The gift. A bond. She would find another who would be of her as she would be of them, two souls intertwined by their very existence and linked together to remain as one.


    Two forms, one fate, and an eternity in the Great Hunt to become the beings their mortal flesh could not contain. She would be given one final trial which would last until death, though one which was rapturous to undertake. A purpose beyond a fake smile and planned conversation. A calling past forced proximity and studious application of her chosen craft.


    She would be given her reward, and with it, meaning.


    But first, she must continue her current tribulation of using a cheerful tone when sobs threaten to take over, a warm gaze where tears wish to soak her cheeks, and open arms when the pain of rejection brought nothing more than the desire to curl up and embrace the end, cold and alone. She must be strong and persevere, no matter how much all else wished her to cease. She must continue, even when stopping was all she could think of.


    She collected the excess powder and placed it in a container before carrying it back to her room for proper storage. The rods were left on the ¡®coffee table¡¯ for when Bill returned, hopefully hardening enough for the demonstration by then. The shadow of a smile crossed her muzzle as she pictured him finding them as interesting as she did when she first made the compound, a kit mixing common chemicals in an effort to be useful and finding fascination instead.


    Her tidying of the components for her surprise complete, she wandered the den, cleaning up anything else lest he return to see her more slovenly side. It was something which showed itself when everything became too much, but he would worry if he were to know just how unsettled his absence made her. Plates were brought to the dedicated machine, clothing was collected and stored appropriately, and a frown crossed her muzzle as she peered at the one place she had never touched.


    Though given permission to enter his room, she never much felt the need to enter Bill''s space¡ªor at least that was what she told herself. Truthfully, she had already resisted the urge to do just that on a few occasions, each compulsion getting harder to suppress as suns dragged on with no clear way to tell how long he was away. She was keeping track based on how many times she had awoken from rest, but it seemed that the need to sleep was pressed down further and further as she stole glances at the featureless metal door which took him from her.


    Took him?


    Sunundra¡¯s pacing slowed to a crawl as she wondered where the possessive thought had come from. She did not have a say in where he went or how long he was to be absent. It was unfortunate to be alone, yes, but she was comforted by the knowledge that he also wished nothing of it, and that he would rather stay to offer an attentive ear and understanding presence.


    Yet he was gone, and without a proper thing or person to place blame, she itched to take it out on the barrier between her and him. Why? She appreciated his company and certainly welcomed how he treated her, but there had been only a few suns where they truly interacted with each other. Was she devoid of affection to the point where even that was enough to expose this part of her? Well, yes, obviously, but to be this attached?


    Her critical evaluation of the unexpected sensation halted so abruptly that she needed to blink away the disorientation.


    A tap from the hallways beyond their den. It was soft, but close.


    She would have ignored it, but her feet carried her forth regardless, uncaring of ¡®why¡¯ when Bill could be returning this very moment. She bounced on her pads in front of the exit, both ears focused forward. The den didn¡¯t exist. The rods didn¡¯t exist. Just the exit. Only the sounds beyond it. Only him.


    Another tap, though it was a slightly deeper sound. Another. Footsteps.


    Her paws clasped over her heart as the steps grew closer. Three suns alone, by her estimates. Three long, soul-numbing suns as she waited, pacified by naught but a promise. She likely seemed pathetic as she stood there¡ªexcitement colouring her otherwise neutral expression while he was away¡ªbut she sought to do something specific. Something she had always wanted to do, yet had given up on ever achieving. Something which seemed so mundane to those who could freely do such.


    The door popped open the slightest amount. She settled herself calmly, donning her broadest smile as the first tints of that warming scent brought the feeling of wholeness. She watched with anticipation as the barrier was pushed aside, giving an opportune time to fulfill a small wish¡ªthe kit within waiting with bated breath as the familiar pinkish hue came into view.


    He was there, as promised, his very presence bringing comfort to her agitated mind. His irritated expression softened as his eyes found hers.


    There he was. He returned to her. Oh, how complete it felt.


    The stress and excitement melted off her form, the planned bow replaced with a slightly tilted head and a half-lidded, peaceful visage, her tail swaying low and expectant. ¡°Welcome back, Bill.¡±


    His tired smile made it all the more perfect.


    - - - - -


    ¡°So we got together in a conference room,¡± he continued between bites of the meal he quickly prepared for them, gesturing with his paws as he spoke. ¡°Huge place. I think there were maybe thirty of us there around the table, but they had each seat kind of sectioned off from the others behind some sort of frosted glass, which made counting difficult. The guy next to me was just a mute blur, so I¡¯m not sure why we needed to go there.¡±


    Sunundra nodded along, trying her best to keep the shifts and flicks of her tail subtle. The smile was a lost cause¡ªit had a mind of its own, and held absolutely no desire to be anything less than fully on display. Her plate lay empty, long since cleared so that she could give him all of her attention. She attempted to satisfy the desire of not seeming too overwhelmed with joy by resting her head on her paws.


    Based on the amused glint in his eye, she was doing a terrible job.


    ¡°Once everyone was settled in, they had these little screens that just asked a bunch of boring questions¡ª¡¯What is your opinion of your cohabitant¡¯s diet?¡¯ ¡®What issues, if any, have arisen between you and your cohabitant?¡¯¡ªbut it felt like most of them were pretty shallow personality things.¡± Bill paused, scratching at the smooth skin of his jaw, only the hints of stubble visible.


    She noted the difference, adding yet another question to those she wished to ask.


    ¡°They mentioned a few things I wasn¡¯t sure about,¡± he added, frowning slightly as he scrutinized the memory. ¡°Some wordings like ¡®scent¡¯ kind of struck me as odd¡ªI wasn¡¯t sure if it was asking what I thought of how you smell or the other way around¡ªbut others were just¡­private at best.¡±


    Her ear flicked in curiosity, a hint of hesitation also stopping the query. ¡°I desire to know more about the second in a moment, but what might your confusion be regarding the first?¡±


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Hm? Oh. I don¡¯t know, it just seems weird,¡± he admitted, leaning back in his seat. He raised a brow at her. ¡°Do I smell like anything? Well, minus when I came back from running forever. Pretty sure ¡®bad¡¯ is implied there.¡±


    ¡°It is difficult to place a set of descriptors on it, but were I encouraged to, I would say your scent is as it always was,¡± she hedged, unsure what kind of response he was looking for. He smelled of himself. She lacked other humans to compare it to, and thus she was operating off of a sample size of one.


    He froze, a slice of an orange vegetable pierced by his fork. ¡°Wait, what? I shouldn¡¯t¡­ I showered before I left.¡±


    The pale-furred female tilted her head. ¡°I am aware. You carry the traces of the soaps and such on you. They do not obscure how a human smells.¡± Bill sniffed at his shirt in a few spots, all but pouting when he seemed to be unable to distinguish anything of note.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s good or not,¡± he grumbled. ¡°All I smell is ¡®shirt¡¯ and food.¡±


    Sunundra winced, regretting her decision to continue the topic. ¡°You need not act as if my scent is nonexistent¡­¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he dismissed lazily, still partially lost in thought. ¡°You smell like fur and whatever perfumes you end up using, but I need to be basically touching you to notice. It¡¯s nice.¡±


    Her mouth opened, yet words failed to form upon her mind¡¯s request for them. She drew breath, though that too accomplished little. Eventually, she choked the feeling down for just a moment. ¡°It is not¡­unpleasant? Am I not repulsive?¡±


    He shifted his eyes to scowl at the assertion. ¡°What? No, why?¡±


    Her thoughts screeched to a halt.


    ¡°Is it bad for your species?¡± he pressed, more curious than anything, but each word hammered into her relentlessly. ¡°I know it says in the briefing that you have stronger noses, but is it really by that much?¡±


    ¡°You¡­¡± She swallowed heavily, her mouth suddenly far too dry. ¡°You can not smell it?¡±


    Bill pushed the plate aside, resting his elbows on the tabletop, his brows furrowed critically. ¡°Considering I have no idea what you mean? No.¡±


    Her heart hammered, her blood feeling like thickened syrup forcing its way through constricted veins. He hadn¡¯t been merely ignoring it, but the defect¡ªor whatever she would call her current condition¡ªhad never reached him to begin with? Did it reframe his actions now that she knew he pitied her not for what she was, but what he saw in her? He was kind not because it was his people¡¯s honor, but because it was just how he is? Was she not restrained by the shackles which condemned her?


    ¡°You okay, Sunshine?¡±


    Her gaze snapped up from the spot on the table it had been fixed. Bill was there, a blatant worry on his expression, a furless paw hovering just out of reach as if he was unsure that his touch would be welcome. If only he knew how long she had dreamt of such an offer. How long it had been since someone deigned to make contact with her defective form. How long she had prayed for everything he gave freely. Now she learned that there was not a single mote of reluctance behind it.


    For the first time, her condition was irrelevant¡­


    ¡°Excuse me,¡± she managed through a choked whisper, leaving the table and promptly retreating to her room. She needed time to think. Time to recontextualize everything and make sense of why she felt so warm. Why the reality was struggling so much to set in, and why it all made her so concerned. It shouldn¡¯t¡ªthis was all she ever wanted¡ªyet the bristle of alarm sent a shiver down her spine and threatened to flood adrenaline into her system. She wished to know why she sought to fix it when there was nothing needing repair.


    ¡°Did I say something¡­¡±


    She glanced at him over her shoulder as she grabbed the spherical knob of her bedroom door, the static buzz abating. It was replaced with a weight in her stomach, both heavy and causing dragged steps under its influence. Her breathing slowed, drawing in more of the scent. More of him. Each inhale wrapped itself deeper and deeper around her core until cracks and chips along the surface were filled with it, smoothing years of abrasion and wear until it seeped further inside. She smiled at him, torn but genuine.


    ¡°I simply need to contemplate things, Bill. You have¡­¡± In. Out. A thoughtful pause became a heart beating with purpose beyond surviving yet another sun of her trial. ¡°You have only been wonderful.¡±


    The male seemed conflicted, but he accepted the answer, nodding with a tempered reassurance and concern. ¡°Well, whenever you¡¯re ready, I¡¯ll be here, Sunshine.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    The door clicked closed behind her, acting as a backrest as she slid to the floor and stared at the ceiling.


    ¡°O¡¯Mother of this soul¡­¡±


    - - - - -


    The softened steps diluted even the subtlest sound, her claws hovering above the hardwood floor of the main area. She knew not why she sought to be silent, yet she did, so she was. It felt better to adhere to those impulses. It felt right to surrender herself to them.


    Bill was using physical cables to attach his terminal to the large rectangular screen across from the couch, the wall-mounted device having yet to see use. She had tried, but the methods to control the alien technology had either escaped her, or were simply not provided. Until now, she was content with it being little more than a slightly odd decoration. Her den-mate appeared to think otherwise.


    His kneeling form carried careful movements, as if any slip in the motions might prove too large a disturbance. He glanced over to her door, oblivious to the fact that she had already left and closed it behind her. It presented a unique opportunity to observe him and seek answers to queries which would otherwise be dismissed.


    How did he hold himself so confidently when they spoke, the Void tearing at his soul, his mates and den so far away? What soothed him when his sense of smell was so muted, unable to detect his loved ones without visual unless he was almost physically touching them? Why did he look at her so caringly when he knew not what plagued her?


    ¡°¡®Universal standard¡¯ my ass,¡± the strange male grumbled under his breath, once more ducking to reach something behind the thin screen. ¡°They can adapt alien tech, but god forbid they cater to backwards compatibility.¡±


    ¡°Does the display utilize an outdated connection?¡±


    A dull thump was followed by a hiss, Bill sitting back on his ankles as he rubbed his head and glanced over his shoulder. ¡°Oh. Hey, Sunshine. I didn¡¯t hear you come out.¡±


    His face all but wrote out his thoughts¡ªsurprise, realization, ease, worry, concern, then a tepid smile to cover the former. The friction used to soothe the pain shifted to a poor facade of casualness.


    ¡°Are¡­ Is everything¡­?¡± The male¡¯s voice faltered in hesitation, his gaze moving in uncertainty until it finally remained on her.


    Sunundra returned a small nod, matching the mild awkwardness with her own. ¡°There is much to ruminate on, but I am well enough for now.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re sure,¡± he allowed meekly, a paw gesturing to the screen he was struggling with. He forced his cadence to something more firm. ¡°As for your question, I wanted to show you that video, but I figured just using my laptop wasn''t quite enough¡ªit¡¯s a little small for both of us. We have a big flatscreen here that should work though. The only issue is that since I''m using an older model, the port I need to plug into is way in the back, and it''s too dark to see what I''m doing.¡±


    She closed the minor distance, circling him a bit to get a better angle then tilting her head as she leaned in. A moment passed before she huffed out a breath in amusement.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±


    She glanced down, noticing that she was practically hovering over him, though he hardly seemed to mind. Odd. Normally, she would be much more cognizant of the distance she maintained. Perhaps knowing that her scent didn¡¯t bother him had encouraged the closeness.


    ¡°I would have assumed you would ask for my assistance, given that you were provided a dossier on my species,¡± she explained with a slightly playful barb.


    ¡°I haven''t read much of the debrief, honestly. I didn¡¯t think it was fair for me to know so much more when we¡¯re both supposed to be learning.¡± He looked up at her, a dry quality added to his voice. ¡°You can see it, can¡¯t you?¡±


    She held her paw out as an answer, smirking as she was given the cable before reaching behind the screen to connect it. A small click declared the success.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± the pale-furred female confirmed, stepping back enough for him to stand. ¡°I take it your vision is poor in dimmer light?¡±


    He rolled his eyes and used a paw on his knee to push himself up, a grunt belying the effort. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what else I expected, but yes, I couldn¡¯t see much of anything behind there.¡±


    He spared her a bemused glare and dropped lazily onto the couch, shifting to one side while gesturing for her to take the other. She obliged after a moment, debating if she should be this excited to see what ¡®fireworks¡¯ looked like while pressing down on the instinct to remove the cushion of distance between them.


    If she truly desired, she could still reach out and touch him, but doing so was getting ahead of herself. Granted, he had been contact-heavy while she was ill, but such was just to reassure and comfort the sick. She felt some confidence in saying they had achieved something of a friendship¡ªhowever nascent it was¡ªbut risking such by repeating the same mistake she made with Recon was¡­


    She curled up against the arm of the furniture, hugging her knees to her chest while she waited for Bill to finish his preparations.


    The feeling of not knowing how to proceed still itched at her. No matter how much she turned the concept over in her head, she simply couldn¡¯t find a path forward in the nebulous stage of their relationship.


    Until now, all she had to go off of was various recounts that she overheard; people would often start small, become close, perhaps share a moon together on occasion, then¡ªif all was well¡ªclaim each other as mates or form a den. She had only ever succeeded with the first step, and her assumed success with the second had been a forgery of the true experience. Did that mean she was overthinking things and that there was a chance of more? He was an alien¡­ Did his people follow a similar path?


    The display flickered, mirroring the smaller screen on his terminal. An image rested behind applications, but she couldn¡¯t quite make out what it was until he closed whatever task he had been doing previously. Fortunately, he did.


    A human. Female, if she had to guess, but it was poor practice to assume. Not that she was completely unsure¡ªthe person had softer features than Bill, a more dainty form donning a long dress that billowed outwards to suggest the picture was captured during a spinning motion. Like Sunundra¡¯s den-mate, the expressions were broadcasted, a bright smile resting under eyes full of wonder. Colourful lights illuminated the otherwise dark background, though the depth of field rendered them as little more than neon blurs that gave an ethereal quality to the scene. It was gone before she could ask any questions, but she felt it was a fairly safe bet to say the subject was a mate of his.


    Why did the thought make her somewhat melancholy?


    The large display on the wall changed, a sideways triangle superimposed on top of blackness. She was confused until Bill got up and turned off the lights, reclaiming his spot on the couch and raising his brows in silent query. Her nod prompted him to start the playback. With a clack of the terminal, the triangle was gone, and the depicted image was allowed to flourish, only the glow of the screen illuminating the room.


    Countless voices called and shouted over each other through the speakers¡ªsome were joyful, while others preferred to tempt passersby into purchasing their wares. The crowd of faces bent and shuffled about, humans of every size moving like an ocean controlled by unseen methods. Lights, music, and the occasional chimes of odd bells could be heard during brief moments where the yelling of kits softened.


    Booths lined the broad passageways, bright signs and enthusiastic staff welcoming visitors, the public ebbing and flowing between them. Food was sold near tables, people often choosing to simply take their meals with them as they explored. One stall provided floating rubber-like sacks on a string, each quickly claimed before following the young and small responsible for them. Activities were offered at some locations, including a skill-based fishing game, tossing disks at targets, shooting water or small projectiles at facsimiles of strangely painted humans, and hitting flashing buttons with the correct timing.


    All of it was alien, all of it operated on an entire history of context she didn''t have, and all of it was fascinating¡­but her eyes remained where the obvious focus of the person holding the device was fixed, a soft longing of unknown origin blooming in her heart.


    Two kits of different ages stayed near a female human, the younger of the two tethered by the paw to their caretaker. Every shiny object or interesting concept pulled them away, excitement tinting the smaller voice as they bargained with the den-mother to oblige. The female offered an exuberant laugh as she beckoned for¡­


    Sunundra glanced away from the screen, her gaze settling on the male next to her, his own rapt attention stolen by a memory playing out on the display. His eyes were what struck a chord within her; they looked upon the recording with such surprise and shattered fondness that it opened a pit in her stomach, the yawning maw waiting for a single push to devour her, yet she was held afloat by something immaterial.


    ¡°Bill! Stop filming and help me keep him from bouncing off the walls!¡± The soft female voice called mirthfully, a laugh colouring her tone.


    The pale-furred female¡¯s stare remained on her den-mate, his lips following along with the video, as if remembering something long since forgotten.


    ¡°That¡¯s what happens when you load them with sugar and take them to a festival.¡±


    ¡°I thought you would hide the snacks better!¡±


    Bill''s lips curled into a wistful smile, the lights on the screen reflecting off his dampened eyes. ¡°Then you have made a grave mistake, my lady.¡±


    ¡°I hate you.¡±


    His whisper joined the one in the recording, forming a weak echo of a time long since passed. It was too quiet for it to be anything but a reflex¡ªan action taken so many times that performing it became a habit, even through a screen. ¡°Love you too, dear.¡±


    Sunundra forced herself to look away from him and focused back on the display. The sinking sensation never fully went away, but the embarrassment that came from staring so much was easier to manage. It felt like something she was never supposed to notice, yet she was captivated all the same.


    The file quickly skipped forward a few times, only a frame offered for context before the next scene replaced it.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Bill offered sheepishly. ¡°I didn''t know I had two videos with the same name. I''ll only be a second.¡±


    She gave a soft hum of acknowledgement, her thoughts otherwise preoccupied. Was the female one of his mates? That was likely, considering everything she had seen so far. Were the young his den-kits, or were they his blood-kits? Den-kits, surely, but direct parentage wasn''t impossible.


    The more she mulled it over, the more she came to acknowledge just how little she knew about him. Such could be said about his knowledge of her as well, but he had already made several attempts to learn. She only ever tried to ascertain the boundaries placed by his people, comparing them to the framework she was used to, then forming plans around it so she could operate without fear of an ill-informed decision ending in rejection. The questions which she did voice were shallow in nature. Everything which pertained to who he was as an individual was just assumed or inferred.


    Watching a fragment of his past made that painfully clear. He had much to return to, and she had given that last of what she possessed for nothing.


    ¡°Should be about here,¡± Bill announced as he started the video again.


    The once boisterous crowd had quieted, their group having left the busy streets and since settled themselves alongside a lake under the moonlight. Silence grew until all were quiet¡ªsave for the mewling kits or hushed conversation. A moment passed before the mass of people shouted in unison. A countdown slowly reaching zero then followed by a messy chorus of voices.


    ¡°Happy Unification Day!¡±


    Streaks of light soared upwards, barely more than sparkling strings in the distance. She expected more, honest¡ª


    The sky exploded into a cacophony of light.


    Reds, blues, greens, and every other colour shimmered in various shapes. Stars, circles, spheres, and crinkling dots filled the skyline and were reflected off the water. They detonated in sequences and patterns, often crafting large displays of text or complex images. Some screeched, others popped, and yet more performed in perfect quiet. It was memorizing. It was exciting. It was¡­


    ¡°Beautiful, isn''t it?¡± Bill whispered as the last firework went off, stealing her attention. All she could offer was a nod. ¡°This is why I don''t think your career says anything bad about who you are. There''s a bunch of people in charge of making and choreographing that kind of thing. There''s more to explosives than violence. It can be art too.¡±


    Her gaze fell to the rods on the coffee table. They were¡­considerably less impressive when compared to what she just witnessed. Unfortunately, he noticed what she was looking at, reaching out to inspect the new item before she could stop him.


    ¡°What''s this? Yours?¡±


    ¡°Y-yes. I¡­crafted some when you mentioned¡­¡± Her voice caught in her throat, the fear of disappointing him stacking on top of the other cold depths already present.


    ¡°Wait. You made fireworks?¡±


    She blinked at the surprise in his tone. ¡°They are lesser in function than you are familiar with.¡±


    He fell quiet, speaking in an unusual softness. ¡°Can you show me? If it¡¯s safe to use inside, I mean.¡±


    The pale-furred female hesitated, grabbing a second rod off the table when Bill started to seem even further discouraged. A simple gesture was enough for him to relinquish the one he took. She held a rod in each paw, then scraped them together with a flick, passing one back to him.


    ¡°It will activate in a moment,¡± she explained, his confusion evident as he accepted it.


    His attention moved to the rod, curiously examining it as best he could while keeping his arm outstretched over the coffee table, unsure of what would happen. Sunundra simply watched him, her own rod held suspended above her lap. Would he find it as underwhelming as she feared?


    A spark. Two. Hundreds quickly joined in, mist pouring from the surface as the rod became a tiny beacon amongst the dark room. Bill¡¯s eyes widened as he made an effort not to be struck by the flickering motes. Her own burned softly, yet she only viewed him, unconcerned about burns after so many iterations of the compound¡ªit cooled instantly, and the haze was merely a chemical reaction which dissipated heat too quickly to bring harm.


    For the brief time it was reacting, his visage matched that of the female in the image, wonder shining in his eyes. Only when the final sparks sputtered out did he look at her.


    ¡°You made sparklers?¡± he asked, a weight present in his tone as wetness took over the end.


    She glanced down at her own expended rod¡ªor ¡®sparkler,¡¯ she supposed¡ªwith a hint of apprehension. ¡°I stumbled across the compound many years ago. I often make them after¡­difficult missions. I find it soothing to watch.¡±


    ¡°They''re great,¡± he assured softly, though his enthusiasm felt forced, his paws resting limp on his lap. Apparently, his thoughts were elsewhere, as the smile didn''t quite look as genuine, and a slight shimmer rested in his eyes.


    The video continued in the background, all but forgotten due to the more quiet chatter of the recorded event coming to an end, dens and friends preparing to leave. The voice of the female drew Sunundra''s eyes to it, a scene playing out that contextualized some things.


    The two human offspring held much more volatile versions of what she had crafted, the female cooing her joy to the young and reminding them not to burn themselves. The smallest asked if they would attend the event every year, to which she replied favorably, adding on a playful wish to do so with a new alien friend. The video ended as she looked up at the one operating the recording device¡ªat Bill.


    Love. Promise. Hope. A bright curiosity and lively expression. All of it gazed at him, undying and eternal. Sunundra asked the first question that appeared in her mind, unsatisfied with assumptions.


    ¡°Is she¡­¡±


    ¡°My wife. She passed away a few years ago,¡± Bill whispered, a tear falling to his paws as he remained transfixed on the frozen frame. ¡°That was the first celebration of joining the Union, but she got sick before the second.¡±


    Sunundra swallowed the lead weight forming in her throat, unable to do more than suffer the gaping maw of the Void creeping up on her as she finally realized who he had been talking to before resting each moon.


    ¡°She wanted to meet all the new species. She wanted to¡­but she couldn¡¯t. She didn''t have the energy¡­¡±


    More droplets of sorrow poured like blood from an open wound, every sentence getting harder and harder for him to voice.


    ¡°I looked after her as best I could, but we couldn''t afford everything she needed. We couldn''t afford much of anything, really. After our oldest moved out, I kept coming home to a son who needed more than I could give and a wife that hated what she had become¡­ The burden she couldn¡¯t help with.¡±


    He wiped at his eyes, finally looking at the pale-furred female with a tortured smile.


    ¡°She would have done anything to be here right now. To meet you and learn about the other species. I couldn¡¯t say no when they offered¡ªI had to do it, if just for her. She''s always dreamed of this kind of thing.¡±


    His gaze returned to his lap, sobs barely withheld by tightly clutching the inert sparkler.


    ¡°Thank you for reminding me I had this video, and thank you for making something like this for me. I love it.¡±


    Sunundra didn''t respond. She was lost in the urge ripping at her throat and viciously burrowing into her chest. The Void called for her. For him. He wasn¡¯t ¡®somehow fine¡¯ like she had thought, he was just barely hanging on. Exactly as she had been for so very, very long.


    She moved to do what she had always wished another would have done for her, thought passing too slowly to stop it. She crossed the cushion worth of space to embrace him as tightly as she could. Tight enough that he wouldn''t succumb to the beckoning expanse. Tight enough to tell him someone was there. Tight enough to never lose him. Tight enough to banish the Void.


    Tight enough to be his Sunshine when the black threatened to strip him of all illumination.


    His paws silently returned a light pressure, the shudders telling her that he needed a moment to suffer the unearthed sorrow. She didn''t mind. She would hold him until the sting had lessened, and then until he wished no more. She would stay with him as long as she could.


    Never in her life had something felt so right.

 Chapter 7

    Though they had sat in the darkened main room of the den to view a recording of a festive and spectacular event, it eventually turned into a dredging of old wounds, finally bleeding a festering despair as Sunundra held the strange male. She wasn''t sure how much time passed before he politely requested release, but every moment was fulfilling a need more primal than any she knew to dwell within. Yet bliss announced its end when he applied a light squeeze, lessening the lopsided embrace expectantly.


    Defiance arose at the thought of it being over¡ªthe intoxicating deluge of his scent, the rhythmic beat of his heart reverberating through her claws, and the warmth that seeped into her flesh. The contact she had wished for was within her paws, infinitely more addictive than ever imagined, and now¡­


    The instant bark of refusal was pressed down, her muzzle clamping shut in surprise at the internal demand to remain close. The desire came from a strange origin she couldn¡¯t quite place, the voiceless whispers flowing into her ears and birthing an urge to coat him in her scent. To claim him. To protect and be protected, not allowing even the Void itself to touch him without taking her first.


    It itched and tempted her to act.


    A jolt went down her spine as she forced herself away, hopefully not appearing too hasty. The impulse had startled her, true, but he need not feel burdened further by her own inadequacy. Whatever¡­that was¡­could be reflected upon some other time. Right now, she was looking at the sullen face of the male who tried his best to smile despite the redness around his eyes.


    The sudden absence from immersing herself in his touch left her somewhat dissatisfied¡ªa disorienting sensation of something cherished being removed tickling at her thoughts¡ªbut she relented before she could ruin whatever progress had been made. Blood pooled in her cheeks as she registered that she had all but smothered him without warning.


    ¡°Ap¡ª¡±


    ¡°I''m¡ª


    The pale-furred female caught the words in her throat to let him speak, but he mirrored the action, leaving both awaiting the other in uncertain silence. She folded her paws on her lap, quietly nodding for him to continue while her ears pitched forward to hear every detail.


    Bill gave a weak smirk, shame colouring his face as he scratched at his jaw. ¡°I''m sorry to ruin the mood. It''s been¡­years now¡­but watching a video I thought I lost¡ªseeing her before she got sick¡­? It still feels like it was only last week that she made that promise.¡±


    There was despondency in his voice, but also worry, the second almost too subtle to pick up. Somehow she knew the sound perfectly. It merged with her own concern for the male before her.


    Hesitation gripped her stomach. ¡°Are your kits¡­?¡±


    ¡°They''re fine,¡± he assured quietly, cycling a breath to collect himself. ¡°Half the reason I left Sol in the first place was so they''d stop worrying about me.¡±


    ¡°Is that not a fortunate occurrence?¡± she asked with a tilted frown.


    ¡°Yeah, but they''re both grown up now and I''d rather they didn''t worry about their old man.¡± He shrugged, letting his head loll back to stare at the ceiling. ¡°Everything''s hard enough without having me drag them down.¡±


    ¡°How would that come to be?¡±


    He shifted his gaze to her and was met with nothing but sincerity. She made sure of that. She wanted to know anything¡ªno, everything¡ªthat plagued him. He was so far from his den, and if she was all he had, then she would be all he needed.


    Bill exhaled a short huff, a sardonic smirk pulling at his lips. ¡°One keeps trying to send money when he barely has enough to stay afloat, and the other is saving up to move me off the planet.¡± His eyes shifted away, a deep guilt glinting in the low light. ¡°I''d rather they focus on living the life I could never give them¡ªa good job, a wife, a nice house¡­kids, if they want them. I''m a lower priority than that. Besides, I might not have much, but you don''t really need it when there¡¯s no one else at home to complain.¡±


    The male''s dry laugh did nothing to dispel the tightness in her chest. If anything, she could only see a warped reflection of what she constantly told herself to keep the Void at bay, willfully ignorant to the tendrils burrowing into her soul fraction by fraction.


    One more sun. One more try. One more smile.


    Just one more until she would be happy. Just one more until she could escape the fate she had been shackled to. Just one more lie to herself added to the pile, and one more crack in the glass keeping her from an eternal descent.


    She saw the reflection of long moons spent staring at the wall in that visage, the image of her paws being a mere twitch away from granting release. She saw every deployment ending the same, the rest of the unit congratulating each other while she could only be thankful that her contribution was successful, and that there was still a unit left to celebrate. She saw a kit¡ªabandoned and scared¡ªlistening to the priests that glared down with disdain for the defective young staining their place of worship, promising kindness in exchange for grueling work and prayer, yet never bestowing a reward.


    She had self-delusion and hope. He had a memory of happiness which slipped from his grasp, leaving only suffering in its wake.


    Alone¡­


    Wait.


    Her brows furrowed sharply, an unease settling into her stomach. ¡°What of your den?¡±


    ¡°That word still tags all over the place,¡± he noted airily. ¡°Do you mean my house, or my family?¡±


    ¡°Both,¡± she offered after a moment. ¡°Is your den-pack not awaiting your return?¡±


    ¡°I live alone now, but I''m assuming you all do denser¡­ Know what? That ¡®pack¡¯ thing is starting to make more sense now. No, we typically live in pairs when we can. Where I¡¯m from, anyway.¡±


    They¡­were a naturally isolated species? ¡°Then who tends to the kits while others are away?¡±


    ¡°I did, for the first while. She had enough income that I could get by doing occasional contract work and look after them when school was over. Things got more difficult later on though. We couldn''t afford a ¡®sitter, but they were smart kids. They knew their mother wasn''t able to crack down on them if they did something stupid anymore, and I was always working whenever I wasn¡¯t home helping her, so they tried their best to behave. I think they noticed how hard it was for us, because at some point, I blinked¡­and my little bundles of chaos had stopped being so little. They were forced to grow up before they even knew what being young was, becoming adults out of necessity.¡±


    He stared down into the open furless paws resting on his lap, one still holding the expended sparkler she had made for him. They clenched into fists.


    ¡°That''s when I knew I was a failure as a father. So, to answer your questions: no, I don''t have anyone waiting for me, and I don''t want my sons wasting what they have on someone who couldn''t give them what they needed. As long as they find a life they''re happy with, then I''ll be happy too. I can die proud knowing that they''ll spend their lives striving to be more than I ever was.¡±


    She grabbed both of his paws with her own, spurred by the ever-growing need for contact. He raised a brow, but didn''t pull away, instead quietly questioning why she seemed so distressed by something he had internalized as fact. Sunundra¡¯s voice fought its way out.


    ¡°I am defective¡ªmy scent is repulsive to my kind, and I am unable to detect other¡¯s pheromones...¡±


    Her confidence waned. An unsettling sensation sitting in her chest forced her to look away, lest his reaction steal what motivation she had mustered.


    ¡°Or¡­I was. I left the base in pursuit of the Union¡¯s offer to alleviate my condition, though they only managed to make it worse. I was rejected before, and am naught but danger to any den or mates I wish to have now.¡±


    The pressure within her paws increased, Bill applying a light grip in return. ¡°Hey, I don¡¯t know the deal with ¡®pheromones¡¯ or whatever, but there¡¯s got to be someone who doesn¡¯t mind, right?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, but where before they would have been viewed as a mere deviant, they would now be associated with one who silently exudes threats of harm to others. I am but a liability to the health of any who would have me; their peers would distance themselves in only the most favourable reaction¡ªa hostile rejection would be most likely¡ªand though I have spent my existence striving for companionship, my chances at such were stolen from my grasp as soon as I thought it assured.¡±


    It hurt, yet she continued through the pain as layers of self-deception ripped away to unveil the truth. The fabric which blurred the reality of the world had torn many times, but she always patched her resolve with prayer and refusal to accept anything less than the hope of absolution.


    She drew a breath before the remaining traces of her resolve evaporated.


    ¡°My den was average by most standards. I had been born into a den-pack of eighteen¡ªten adults and eight kits. Being surrounded by love and affection is sadly something which occurred before I am able to recall, but I surely was. As soon as my light came to my life, I found myself clutching a token. Such is hardly notable now, and yet it proved to be the greatest irony. It was a symbol of the church to ward off the defect and designate me as a kit of the faithful, and in turn, a faithful myself. ¡®Embrace this kit within your adoration, for she will struggle tooth and claw to keep her devotion true.¡¯ A sad reality.


    ¡°Perhaps it was shortly after my vision cleared that the adults grew weary; I had yet to follow my blood-parent¡¯s scent to find them throughout the den, and locating myself was often difficult. Our olfactory is supposed to be our first fully-developed sense¡ªwith pheromone production taking longer to mature¡ªso my behaviour was worrying from both a medical standpoint, and¡­¡±


    Sunundra swallowed, all too aware that Bill was still holding her paws, and that his focus was undividedly hers.


    ¡°Their fears were proven true when my exocrine system started functioning fully. Instead of informing my kin that I was small and whose progeny I was, it began giving off a deafeningly neutral profile. I was repulsive¡ªa corpse which moved and smiled, oblivious to the scent of disgust and hatred filling the den. Soon, my den-brothers and sisters avoided me, then the adults.


    ¡°¡®They were busy,¡¯ I told myself. ¡®My siblings wish to play alone.¡¯ ¡®I should be like them and not bother the big.¡¯ ¡®Maybe they¡¯ll allow me to rest with them if I am good.¡¯¡±


    Her throat closed, claws stopped from shredding the internal obstruction by his touch and the sympathetic gaze that she couldn¡¯t meet.


    ¡°I learned quite some time later that a kit sleeping by themselves was not only worryingly unusual, but detrimental to their development. It causes stress to build and inhibits growth,¡± she added, shrugging to indicate her stature. Though she had grown to at least meet the lower end of expected heights, she was still much shorter than any of her blood. A desperate thought some years ago suggested she might have been accepted if she was taller, and thus the research unveiled a likely factor, but no solutions.


    ¡°Two. Two years after I gained my sight was what it took for me to notice that I was despised, and that was only because three den-parents argued with my sire, then never returned, taking their kits with them.¡± The dryness of her tongue failed to wet her lips. ¡°I was able to tell apart a strained indifference from hatred that moon, for his eyes held no affection for the kit ruining his den. I sequestered myself to my room¡ªa recurring habit ever since¡ªand only exited when called or for meals. Eventually, they stopped asking for me, and the food provided out of obligation was placed in front of my door. I spent¡­a long time alone. I cannot say the duration, exactly.


    ¡°One moon, my blood-mother actually entered. I was scared. I held not joy that I had been sought out, but fear for what the reason might be. A kit¡ªisolated and unwanted¡ªfelt terror at another¡¯s company, for she knew not what else she would lose when she had so little. I think that was what broke my mother. She came with wrath and ire, yet froze upon seeing her offspring in the corner, unwilling to so much as sleep on the bed provided lest the untidy sheets remove the fraction of care she had been afforded. I was a mess of matted fur and unwieldy claws, giving up because I believed the Hunt Mother had decided I was not worth the soul I had been blessed with, and had sent a faithful to reclaim it.¡±


    The tendrils of the depths pierced her flesh, following the same path as the memory, yet she trudged forward, finally baring the scarring beneath the skin.


    ¡°I was held instead. She sobbed and apologized¡ªmournful for what she had done to her young¡ªand begged for forgiveness. For another chance. I was young and fractured, so I promised in an instant, soaking in a rarity that was commonplace for most. She taught me how to pray, and joined me in petitioning the Hunt Mother for guidance through my trial.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you made up,¡± Bill whispered, an edge to his voice suggesting he already suspected what her response would be. Sunundra laughed mirthlessly.


    ¡°For a time, yes. She would come and pray with me¡ªsometimes for strength, other times for mercy¡ªthough I was never able to hear the specifics. I still remained in my room, but I was given embrace and attention on occasion. I thought blessings were all that awaited me.¡±


    His voice turned sharp, quietly cutting through the momentary pause. ¡°That¡¯s no way to raise a child.¡±


    She suppressed the burning indignation replacing her melancholy with flickering flames. ¡°She didn¡¯t. Not for much longer, that is. Unbeknownst to me, the arguments within the den continued, my scent seeping through the cracks of the door and tainting the air. My blood-parents entered my room one sun with smiles and asked if I wished to visit the church with them to pray¡­ I wanted nothing more¡­ I was blind to the sick satisfaction in my father¡¯s eyes. I ignored the bliss on my mother¡¯s visage¡­¡±


    The grip on her paws became painful under his tensed form. An inferno sparked within, wisps of willpower being all that prevented Bill from being punctured by claws as the wrath coursed through her veins. It was overpowering, yet she persisted, bleeding sorrow from the memory as he had.


    ¡°I was given a tour and shown the residence for members of the clergy¡­ When the priest offered their sanctum for me to deliver my prayer, I accepted. A faithful renewed, I prayed. A defect gained, a trial given, a reward promised through piety¡­ The small kit wished to seek praise for her devotion from her den, and yet they had left. ¡®An urgent matter arose,¡¯ was what they told me. I waited. ¡®They are delayed,¡¯ they assured. I waited. ¡®They will send someone as soon as possible,¡¯ they promised. I waited. ¡®They have entrusted us with your care¡­¡¯¡±


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    An axe hung over her neck, the cinders of her soul going dark. Her throat pulled upon itself, unable to swallow the knot that formed, her voice cracking.


    ¡°And still, I waited. They couldn¡¯t very well have a kit staring into the street from the steps every waking moment, much less a defect¡ªIt was bad for the other faithful¡¯s attendance¡ªso I was put to work. Cleaning, disposing of unrecyclable materials¡­ I was set to any task which did not require training, eventually being assigned with organizing the chemicals they stored to keep me out of sight.¡±


    Her gaze wandered to the four rods remaining on the table.


    ¡°It was accidental at first, but I discovered that certain combinations produced interesting results. It became my obsession. I started begging for books or terminal access to learn, then taught myself everything I needed to know to make more with whatever was given to cease my speech. Smoke at a whim, fire with a flick, ice out of naught but the ambient humidity¡­ I became useful. I was tolerated. I was blinded by the opportunity. Fixated by the possibilities. As soon as I matured, I sought an application for my usefulness, driven by the priests to succeed. The military offered purpose. It promised salvation from my loneliness.


    ¡°I joined, proved my utility, and was assigned a pack-unit to protect. They were to be kin. Allies. Those whom I would grow to love and cherish, then have such affection returned endlessly¡­ They wanted nothing of me. Still, I protected, following my own path in constraining my use to ensuring those I was responsible for would enter engagements as safely as possible. When I was reassigned to my current station, I still held hope that my contributions would have earned some favour, but they cheered and packed my belongings for me, shutting the door the moment I was clear of it.¡±


    She exhaled a long breath and pulled away, smiling as she should when her eyes met the strange male¡¯s, but it was wrong. She had not the strength to feign joy, nor the energy to lighten her tone. There were no more lies to hide behind now. A bitter truth was all that remained.


    ¡°And so I stayed in a room by myself¡ªabandoned and ignored in perpetuity¡ªuntil I was called to bring forth destruction and criticized for my preference in target. A symbolic return to youth as a terrified kit, convincing herself that she could be accepted¡­that she could be loved¡­if she just did better. Was better. If she only improved her craft and planned everything down to how often she should blink during a greeting. If she was mindful of the scents she could not detect, and combated the foul odour she produced unwillingly, then affection could be earned.


    ¡°The Union offered to fix me¡­yet all they did was engineer a fate less favourable. I will be attacked and threatened, insulted and repelled. Simple acts such as purchasing goods in person are now unviable, while seeking another is little more than a mere promise to see them ostracized and harmed for associating with me. I am finally what I refused to believe¡ªunlovable. Unwanted. I abandoned the shield of hope for the damnation of folly, and even my Goddess refuses to hear my pleas.¡±


    Bill¡¯s eyes radiated a numbed pain and horror, a hatred she was so familiar with resting behind the pity. How strange it was to stare into it without fear. ¡°Sun¡­¡±


    A shake of her head left his words trailing into the stagnant air. ¡°Apologies for the sudden contact. As much as I would like to claim it was purely to comfort you, such would be a falsehood. Though true, it was only a partial motivator, for I wondered what the touch of another felt like, and sought to experience it before we are separated and I must¡ª¡±


    A sudden tug clamped her muzzle shut, the male¡¯s arms wrapping around her and halting the need to speak as she was pressed into his chest.


    ¡°Shut up,¡± he snapped, the tension in his form holding her perfectly still. He was like a loaded spring ready to let loose his rage, yet his embrace was tender and mournful, treating her as a precious crystal which would shatter at the slightest disturbance. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear another word.¡±


    She did as told, not a single fibre of her being wishing for this to end. The pillars on which she stood had crumbled, and yet he caught her. Nothing would compare. Nothing would replace it.


    ¡°How the hell do you say that and still smile at me?¡± he asked rhetorically, a dampness to his words. ¡°How can you wake up in the morning, knowing that¡¯s what¡¯s waiting for you? How can you worry about me when that is eating you whole?¡±


    She wasn¡¯t able to provide an answer to his queries. She could only repeat what she was told by her blood-mother while travelling to the church¡ªwords that remained ingrained as if adhering would somehow give back that which she desired most.


    ¡°The Hunt Mother cares not for kits who bend and break during her trial. One must walk, even when their legs refuse to move and fatigue eats at their very bones. One must smile, even while sorrow rips them in two and joy is but a distant memory. One must appear as the very image of affability, even when rejection leaves them scarred and numb. One must strive to meet their goal until the Void itself comes to collect their form¡­and even then they must struggle.¡±


    ¡°And what did that get you?¡± he growled, his hold tightening. ¡°Tossed aside for something as stupid as smell? What, did they just never bother working on ointments or something to cover it up? A treatment? What about your perfume, is that not good enough?¡±


    The pale-furred female fell quiet for a moment. ¡°Those afflicted are rare, and it is a belief that they are symbols of dens disowned by the Goddess¡ªfaithful whose devotion is called into question. The kits are punishment. They are a test of loyalty to the Great Hunt. Raising a symbol of their repudiation by the Hunt Mother would absolve them of their sins.¡±


    ¡°Religion? That¡¯s what screwed you over?¡± The embrace grew tighter again, the creak of her bones meaning nothing in the face of how loud his heart was beating for her. How totally she occupied his thoughts, no matter the context. Her own chest thrummed in synchrony.


    ¡°Those who do not follow the path are few, and of those, even less would tempt the ire of the whole.¡±


    The pressure encapsulating her lessened all at once. ¡°You have nobody? Not even a friend? Acquaintances?¡±


    Her silence said more than her voice ever could. The pit of rage subsided, replaced by a tingling static.


    ¡°Me,¡± he whispered, the shell of protection shifting into a tender touch of affection. ¡°I¡¯m not much, but I¡¯m more than happy to call you a friend. Anything you need, just ask, okay? I¡¯ll do whatever I can. Nobody deserves to be so alone.¡±


    His embrace ended suddenly, her paw stopping his arms from moving too far away. Fear bubbled to the surface. ¡°Bill?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°...I wish to stay like this for a while longer.¡±


    Terror ceased in an instant, replaced by a warmth which flowed effortlessly through her veins. It was tinted by pity, true, but it floated in her chest, lifting the fragments of her heart and coalescing them into something more. Then, she knew what that soothing sensation was, for she had been chasing it longer than she had memory.


    Love. For kin, for friends, and for mates. So cloudy was it that she could do nothing but accept all its meanings as a treasure to cherish. The male gave a stiff nod, relaxing after a few motions as he adjusted to allow them both a more comfortable posture, her paws slipping behind him and gaining purchase on his back. His voice reinforced the feeling, coming out softly as it poured into her ears like honey coating her in his colours.


    ¡°Of course, Sunshine. As long as you need.¡±


    - - - - -


    Things were¡­different...since the moon where they had held each other to seek comfort in company. Not in any way she would dislike, but certainly in a notable fashion. She now rested with her door open¡ªwhile remaining mindful not to remove all her garments, of course¡ªand he spent most of his time documenting his experience cohabitating with her species while on the couch instead of in his room. After the first few suns of politely asking if her inclusion would be bothersome, his flat annoyance became no longer needed, the pale-furred female simply taking up whichever space he left vacant on the furniture. She had even tempted fate by resting against him while she worked on her latest prototype, yet he accepted the contact wordlessly, a comforting sensation filling her core.


    The routine led to a new development as well. She had started asking questions as they crossed her mind, revealing several curious answers.


    As a species officially included in the Union, he was given access to what he described as a ¡®requisition system,¡¯ allowing him to place orders for whatever was needed¡ªpending a review process and several layers of bureaucracy. It was how he replaced her translator, though he spent a while grumbling about how hard he had to push for them to provide something meeting various requirements. There was currently a request for more foodstuffs, and assuming the correspondence was to be believed, then that should arrive sometime this sun, which was exciting in a mundane way.


    The documents he referenced while she was ill were indeed the ones he was unwilling to delete once his mate passed. Sunundra berated herself for asking, but he scratched between her ears absently when he noticed, the act placating her with startling ease. It was nice, and his dulled claws could apply quite a bit of pressure on small points without worry of puncturing the skin. It was a shame he didn¡¯t do it more often, but the thought of bringing it up was still slightly beyond what she was comfortable doing, even if she was sure he wouldn¡¯t mind.


    As far as his ongoing recording of their den-pack, it was apparently a prerequisite of participation for him. He was to note their activities, the broad strokes of their conversations, and anything else which might influence if the Lilhuns would join the Union or not. Though policy barred him from sharing the specifics, she was assured that he submitted a glowing recommendation with every update, as well as several strongly worded requests to look deeper into their experiments with correcting the defect.


    It silenced her when he mentioned doing so with such nonchalance, the male waving a paw to dismiss the irritation in his tone. An urge which had once been subdued now returned, itching at her teeth to take him as her own. To claim her other half.


    Of course, such was repressed as much as she was able, denying the demands which her body made. Her mind was clouded enough as it was, but even trying to parse the details of why such was happening was beyond her capabilities. It was difficult to remain focused in his presence, yet being without it only filled her with yearning, like a puzzle calling for its missing piece. Was this what she had been devoid of for all these years? Was this fondness and affection? Were dens built upon it, mates selected, and packs formed? If so, then perhaps her deficiency could finally rest within her mind instead of occupying her thoughts so frequently.


    The gift was never meant for her, but she could live smiling for those who received it, knowing how fulfilling it must be.


    Regardless, the routine had been modified to greatly include time with each other, which was why she was currently quite amused by her den-mate seeming so serious about that which held no consequence.


    ¡°Then it¡¯s just a bit of¡­this stuff?¡± Bill asked, hesitantly pointing to a stabilizing agent. Sunundra gave no confirmation, opting to watch the male navigate the various compounds laid out on the coffee table as she sat attentively on the couch next to him. His grin turned into a playful frown. ¡°Fine, but if I blow us up, it¡¯s your fault.¡±


    She tilted her head innocently, a smirk belying her confidence. ¡°Then it would be best if you chose wisely, no? It would hardly paint a favourable picture if our guest was to be greeted by a mess.¡±


    He attempted to scowl at two of the likely chemicals, eventually deciding on the first through his chuckle at her morbid humour before rolling his eyes upwards in thought. He measured out roughly the correct amount, passing the completed mixture to be evaluated by the explosives expert, the pale-furred female making a show of scrutinizing it while he awaited her evaluation with a bated breath and expectation in his gaze.


    ¡°This¡­¡± She dragged the word out, enjoying the tension building in his shoulders. ¡°...is correct.¡±


    The male exhaled dramatically, or perhaps he truly thought she would allow a mixture more volatile than what he requested. Either way, he cheered, celebrating his success far louder than he likely intended. He coughed into his fist after the outburst to feign casualness, but all she could do was chuckle at the atmosphere and enjoy the warmth he brought to her soul as she gathered the paper-like casings they would be using for the ¡®firecrackers.¡¯


    Her muzzle couldn¡¯t conceal the smile proudly displaying itself as she added a small fuse to each of the tiny bombs. She normally refused to make omni-directional explosives, but in light of their non-destructive application and his polite request to join her in the hobby, she allowed them, the collection of miniature fireworks being set aside for later use. After a quick reiteration of what to expect from the devices, they decided on using a metal plate for the testing site, placing it on the ¡®dining¡¯ table for when everything was ready.


    The jarring buzzer of the exit caused her ears to flatten, but Bill was unconcerned, his expression full of excitement as he went to address the source of the grating noise. While the male had been reticent about what he had ordered, she was more interested in the method of delivery, wondering if the person would resemble the foggy blurs she recalled from her first introduction to some species. It was a shame that her memory had degraded, but perhaps such was to be expected when one was sedated for a likely extensive procedure.


    The door popped open, followed by an odd smell and Bill¡¯s relaxed greeting.


    ¡°Oh, hey! Come on in. Thanks for bringing it.¡±


    Her eyes fixated on the new being as they entered, an unfamiliar deep voice going through her translator. ¡°Not a problem. They tell us to just drop things off, but it gets boring in stores and these are heavy, so I figured you¡¯d like some help.¡±


    A wide box came into view, then a darker complexion. Another human? Instead of the pinkish hue she was used to, this one was a more brownish colour, as well as a touch shorter than the male she had come to know¡ªthough still taller than herself. It nodded in her direction, the bland grey uniform carrying scripts and logos of various origins. Bill collected a second box just outside, his words delayed by a grunt as he hefted it into his arms.


    ¡°So you guys just sit around waiting for people to put in requests?¡±


    The new one¡ªa male, assuming Bill¡¯s late mate was a reliable template¡ªglanced over his shoulder with a defeated sigh. ¡°More like we spend all day getting things together. The fabricators are pretty versatile, but they don¡¯t give us much time between receiving the production list and getting things out. This is one of maybe five for today though, so all-in-all, a pretty relaxed shift. How¡¯s things going on this end?¡±


    The taller of the two walked forward to guide the other into the kitchen, Sunundra keeping her distance as her mind struggled to process everything.


    ¡°Good! I showed Sunshine there a video of the first Unification Day, so we were just setting up a little test for firecrackers.¡±


    ¡°Firecrackers?¡± the new one asked, raising a brow in her direction from the archway. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m Greg. I work with local logistics and delivery. Nice to meet you.¡±


    Her voice caught in her throat. Should she introduce herself with her name? She only told Bill because she felt anything less would be akin to disregarding his kindness. A wariness built within, yet ¡®Greg¡¯ seemed unconcerned with her lack of response, turning his attention back to her den-mate.


    ¡°I had some ammo for those cheap cap-guns in the bottom of my bag,¡± Bill called mirthfully. ¡°Ever use those? Little plastic things that did nothing but make noise and stink up the place?¡±


    Greg chuckled, shaking his head as he laid down his box and opened it, removing various items and passing them along to be stored away. ¡°Maybe as a kid. Be careful with that though. They¡¯re not huge fans of the fire suppression system going off. Makes a huge mess and cleaning it takes forever. Stinks too.¡±


    ¡°That bad?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nasty. Had a unit set it off a few days ago¡ªprobably left something in the oven too long. Must¡¯ve taken the poor guy hours to scrub everything, and god knows about how long it¡¯ll reek. The furry xeno he was staying with was not impressed, I¡¯ll tell you that much.¡±


    Bill slowed in his sorting, curiosity in his tone. ¡°Another Lilhun? How are they doing? We had a big meeting last week, but I wasn''t really able to chat with anyone.¡±


    ¡°Good, as far as I could tell,¡± Greg offered, removing what seemed to be the last item in his box. Satisfied, he stood, collapsing the packaging into a startlingly small square and slipping it into his pocket before leaning against the archway. ¡°Well, it was. From the lecture I heard, the guy is sleeping on the couch until he gets rid of the smell.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°Mmhm. Oh, I¡¯ll take the box when you¡¯re done. Thanks. Anyway, yeah. It sounded like things were going pretty good there. They said they put in a request to use the skydeck for something to do and really hit it off. They¡¯re trying for a pairing status now. Stick together once everything is said and done, you know?¡±


    Sunundra¡¯s ears perked, listening intently as Bill closed the cupboards and came back to the main room with a thoughtful expression. ¡°Think they¡¯ll pass it?¡±


    Greg shrugged. ¡°Hard to say, but it¡¯s not a bad idea. Even if they wait until the official membership, at least the request will be near the front of the queue, right?¡±


    ¡°Fair.¡±


    A beep from the new male¡¯s wrist had him checking the oddly shaped terminal, a groan of annoyance leaving his throat. ¡°Alright, I need to head out again. New order.¡±


    Bill rolled his eyes in sympathy, walking with Greg to the exit. ¡°Never stops, does it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not that lucky.¡±


    ¡°I can only imagine. Thanks for giving me a hand with those and telling me about the skydeck. I don¡¯t remember seeing that option, but I guess that means I need to look again.¡±


    ¡°Bah, it¡¯s no problem. I like wandering around the place and meeting all the odd pairs. Oh, two things. First is that you submitted this order as recurring, but are you sure about the timeframe, or was it a mistake? I can correct it while I¡¯m here if so.¡±


    ¡°Hm? No, that¡¯s right. I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll go through it very often. Neither of us eat all that much.¡±


    Greg accepted the reasoning, tapping his pockets to confirm that he had everything. ¡°Fair enough. The second is that the organizers pushed a message to some accounts. I¡¯m just passing along a reminder for you to check if you got one.¡±


    ¡°I will. Thanks.¡±


    ¡°All good. Take care¡­¡±


    ¡°Bill. Nice to meet you, Greg.¡±


    The dark-skinned male smiled, giving a small nod to both of them. ¡°You too Bill. Ma¡¯am. You guys take it easy.¡±


    Bill closed the door with a click after returning the farewell, finally turning his attention back to¡ªthen frowning at¡ªthe confusion on Sunundra¡¯s face. ¡°What¡¯s up, Sunshine?¡±


    Her ear flicked as she chose a concern to address. ¡°Why did you claim the firecrackers to be of your materials? Will it not reflect poorly?¡±


    The male scratched at his cheek, dropping his arm after a moment. ¡°Well, yeah, but I¡¯m Union¡ªI¡¯ll get a slap on the wrist. You? They might kick up a fuss and send you back, or even pressure your government to put you in prison or something. Any number of bad outcomes, really.¡±


    Send her back? They would take her away from him? A sickening tug in her stomach went ignored. Such was hardly a concern when she was the one to bring contraband¡­ ¡°App¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªNope,¡± he interrupted, holding up a paw haltingly. ¡°None of that. You¡¯re my friend. I¡¯m going to go check my laptop, see if I can¡¯t book us for the skydeck, then we¡¯re being immature and setting off firecrackers.¡± He paused. ¡°They¡¯re smokeless, right?¡±


    She nodded, unsure if everything should be dismissed so casually, but feeling thankful all the same. ¡°They will be quite efficient. Smoke is minimal in my creations unless constraints or circumstances require it.¡±


    ¡°Good. Let¡¯s do the boring stuff first.¡±


    - - - - -


    Unfortunately, Bill did receive a message, and it was yet another summons. The description was vague, but he surmised it as him needing to stay elsewhere for a while. They wished him to expand on his desires regarding the Union and their experiments with the procedure Sunundra had undertaken, among other things, which only fed the dense pit of fear that she was trying not to think about. The expected duration was somewhere between five and six times longer than the last absence, and although she was grateful he would do it for her sake, she still hated the idea of more suns without him near.


    Quick to pick up on her mood, Bill ushered them to use their new creations for entertainment while insisting on excessive caution. She obliged, finding it much easier to keep a light heart when he seemed so excited to try something he had made, even if hiding behind the couch was a bit much for the microscopic payload.


    The first test made a loud pop, but remained almost entirely smokeless as promised. The single wisp of fume dissipated quickly.


    ¡°Alright, six second fuse time,¡± he announced, taking two and lighting them with a small electronic starter she supplied from her possessions. The male hurried back to ¡®shelter,¡¯ peering over the edge of the backrest and encouraging her to join him in the countdown.


    ¡°Three. Two. One¡­¡± Elation rose within her.


    ¡°Boom!¡± The pops joined his exclamation, earning a giggle from the female when he playfully scowled at her negligence in following along to the end.


    So they tried again, each small explosive being outmatched by the vigour and laughter that set her worries aside as she contributed to shouting the odd word. She was with him, and he was jubilant, so she was too. It was right for many reasons she couldn¡¯t place, but nor did she wish to. There was too much to question already, and even one more would detract from how perfect it felt to be around someone else. A friend. Her friend. Bill.


    Nothing would surpass how whole he made her feel.


    Concerns lingered, though they could be addressed later. Her possible deportation, his summons, why she felt such strong urges around him, why she noticed regular variations in his scent, and why the other human smelled nothing like the one she had come to form a strange relationship with. None of them were spared thought as she enjoyed his company.


    They set off to rest with reluctance, both knowing he would depart early in the sun for far longer than she wished to think about. It was a fitful sleep, but she managed, only yawning slightly as she joined him for an early meal and soaking in his scent for as long as possible. Every detail was etched into her soul.


    The farewell was melancholy, but he offered a small smile, surprising her by pulling her close and holding her tight as he delivered good news. They were cleared for the skydeck once he returned, so she should look forward to seeing all that it had to offer with him. She promised that she would, wearing her warmest expression as he left, the exit barring her away from him.


    She could be patient. She would wait. She had done so before.


    Even if every moment away tore at her core, she would wait.


    Even if suns stretched into meaningless wakefulness, she would wait.


    Even when she had been told that he was never coming back, she waited.


    Even as the Void came for her, she waited.


    Even as nothing, she waited.

 Chapter 8

    The first sun of her den-mate¡¯s absence consisted of Sunundra wondering what to do with her newfound abundance of time. With little cleaning to do, her usual hobby of explosives manufacturing became the default activity to occupy herself. Yet, after having done so while idly conversing with her strange friend, it didn¡¯t feel as fulfilling as it once did.


    Bill showed an interest in the process, and though he was typically confused by her explanations, she appreciated the attempt nonetheless. Besides, each session led to him obtaining more of a foundation for future inquiries, even if he only approached the subject because it was something she found catharsis in. He was at least sure to familiarize himself with the basics, though he would never study the materials enough to gain an intimate understanding. Still, every curiosity and observation noted aloud welcomed her to speak of that which few others deign to concern themselves with. Her pack-units only wanted to know what to expect from her utility, not how it was achieved.


    Inversely, her strange den-mate pressed into the realm of art with suggestions and murmured thoughts on occasion, his musings tackling novel concepts that she had dismissed before truly contemplating them. She found listening to it captivating and more than a little endearing. In fact, he was the reason she came to a breakthrough in shrinking the size of her latest creation!


    Instead of using a sub-thermal charge after the rippers, he suggested that the compound in her sparklers¡ªthe one responsible for condensing moisture from the air into a fog¡ªcould be a possible replacement. Well, it was more that he wondered aloud, but the idea was interesting enough to attempt. It avoided the issue of the burner setting off the sub-thermal charge. All she had to do was settle for a slower cycle, decrease the number of nodes in the ripper, and have the mist act as an external heat sink for the former.


    The result was a creation of both their minds, culminating in her most compact high-penetration charge yet! Her chest warmed with each one she crafted, the once solitary task now joined by another, if only in spirit.


    Variants based on those conversations were quickly assembled over the following suns, ranging from a string of adhesive ripper charges, to specialized area-of-denial devices which would smoke out large rooms while plummeting the ambient temperature. The difficult task was creating an appropriate backing without having bombs stick to her fur, which had inadvertently led to such several times¡ªsomething she was glad Bill wasn¡¯t around to see.


    It was troublesome to appear competent when covered in tiny squares.


    Her most recent creations erred on the side of ¡®rather deadly¡¯¡ªbarring any utility-focused items¡ªbut mostly because she was only getting a proof of concept down for each type, with tweaking them to her liking coming later. They were still very much too uncontrolled for actual use just yet, regardless of how many she had made.


    She exhaled slowly, frowning at the clusters of explosives on the coffee table, unsure if she should fault her friend for encouraging the deviation or thank him for prompting her to explore various options.


    Either way, the pale-furred female had gotten a little too wrapped up in making sure she could recreate the models and now possessed more than she was comfortable having. Three large piles of ¡®boom¡¯ sat upon the coffee table, any dissatisfaction that she should have felt was replaced by a soft smile as she pictured the human coming back and excitedly ruining another plate to witness the less destructive designs. Colours, patterns, and sequences had all been tested and were thus now ready for tuning. Hopefully, with how long he was to be away, she should have plenty of time to make these more recreational than lethal.


    Her eyes wandered from the assorted explosives in the main area to the odd clock embedded in her bedroom wall. The ¡®numbers¡¯ had incremented quite a few times already, though not in any meaningful way. Bill admitted that he was unfamiliar with the symbols and it seemed to change arbitrarily anyway, so she mostly gave up on keeping track of it. Not that it helped with missing him every time it increased. The subtle shift in the environment brought her thoughts back to how quickly the scent was fading, whittling away at her fraying nerves. Thankfully, it was a comparatively more drawn-out process than when he first left; she could still smell him on the couch and whatever traces settled in her room from when he tended to her. She could still pretend his warmth was near. She could still ignore the gaping hole his absence caused within her soul.


    She could still deny the itching in her blood to find him.


    Rest had become an unreliable metric to measure his absence, but it was only partly caused by the disquieting isolation crawling deeper into her stomach. Prototyping frequently kept her awake, and when that wasn¡¯t a factor, she found herself glancing at the doorway, somehow expecting the taps of his arrival to echo down the hallways once more.


    He was out there somewhere. He would be back. She just needed to wait.


    And so the suns continued, each subsequent one making her motions more sluggish. Firecrackers became her obsession for a stint, her paws crafting them absently while she was lost in a daze. They didn¡¯t take much to make, and she had an excess of the required powder, so it hardly mattered how large the pile got. All she cared about was how happy he had been indulging in a simple act of adolescent whimsy, and how intoxicatingly mirthful she felt in return. His smile became hers. His joy became hers.


    All she wanted was to be his as well.


    A shake of her head discouraged the notion from taking root. Recon was a warning about growing too expectant when receiving kindness. She should learn that lesson and keep her expectations low.


    She should¡­yet she missed him¡­ She missed him so much.


    His touch. His voice. His steady heartbeat. His comforting scent¡­


    She felt numb without it now. Memories of the suns spent upon the church¡¯s steps came to mind¡ªa kit gazing at the roadways, waiting for her den to come back¡­ To forgive her for what she was¡­ Yet they never would, and never did.


    Truthfully, no one had asked for her company since then; the defect she suffered turned even the most promising possibilities into certain failures. Only Bill seemed pleased when she sat with him. Only he put so much thought into one that most chose to ignore.


    Was he thinking of her now? Was he watching the recording of fireworks, suffering through his longing and wishing his Sunshine was there to comfort him? Was he eating at an empty table, missing her presence and receptive conversation, the echoes of her voice bringing melancholy in its absence? Was he resting throughout the moon, wondering if it was acceptable to ask for her to share in his warmth, soothing the loneliness with soft breaths and comforting dreams in the embrace of another?


    Was he feeling as weak as she was?


    A heavy blink brought a semblance of life to her deadening eyes, dry and irritated from however long she had been aimlessly staring while lost in thought. Her paws had stopped making more of the tiny explosives, instead shifting to a more familiar breach charge at some point. Unexpected, but not surprising¡ªshe had since moved most of her materials to the main area to avoid getting up frequently, so some habits were bound to surface.


    A cursory check of the floor revealed a broad pile of firecrackers spilling outwards across the hardwood. Most had been connected by a single long fuse that would ensure a sequential activation, though it was anyone¡¯s guess as to how long the final chain came out to be.


    The worrying items were the new charges; it seemed she had skipped the directional phase of assembly and left them as little more than ruthlessly potent grenades. Even if it wasn¡¯t a particularly difficult mistake to rectify, it would still take time and a delicate touch to correct¡ªneither of which she had the will to provide when alertness proved so challenging.


    She gazed at the bombs that were devoid of the usual care and meaning she prided herself on. They were not to earn the affections of others through flawless execution, nor to simply see her allies safe, then hopefully being appreciated for her efforts.


    They were for destruction. Death.


    They were for anything that got between her and the one her heart yearned for.


    She scowled at the intrusive thought; an idiotic notion from a defective who was never to be loved, yet sought it with all she had. But it was just that: idiotic. Stupid. Greedy.


    She had been blessed with what she spent her life praying for, yet still, she desired more.


    A friend was enough. Because further was for those unlike herself. Companionship was enough. Because she should be relishing it while she could. Missing him was enough. Because the cohabitation would eventually end, and she was too scared to ask him if he would apply for a ¡®pairing.¡¯


    There was no room for more, no matter how much it hurt to think so.


    Even if he did agree, what would happen? Would he be forced to stay with her? She had no den to bring him back to, nor a pack to introduce. She had no employment now, and gaining it again would be arduous with her current condition¡ªassuming they didn¡¯t just imprison her for leaving without adhering to the proper protocols. Her savings were ample enough from a lifetime of service and little reason to spend it, so perhaps she could find somewhere more secluded for sale and begin anew. She had little other choice for when he left, but¡­ It would also work if he remained¡­


    His people typically lived in pairs, so he would be forgiving if their den was small and absent of others. Arrangements could be made for an education in whichever field he deemed interesting, and she could assist with translations so that he might find employment in something that made him happy¡­


    Her tail flicked and swayed expectantly. She could almost see the glimmer of light resting in the dripping ooze of toxic tar that would otherwise be her future¡ªthe path to an existence worth living. All she needed to do was ask. She could speak with him, laugh with him, rest with him, and so, so much more¡­ She only needed to consider his circumstances and address any issues as best she could.


    Bill had said that he wished not to be a burden upon his kits, but would such be a concern if she were to provide for him as he had for her? It would be in a way that supplied funds and shelter rather than tending to an illness, but she could. His kits would know he was safe with her. They would appreciate that he was no longer alone. He would be her everything, and then his kin might visit to show him offspring their own. Bill would see they were healthy and thriving while he was away. He would be proud they had overcome their pasts, and his guilt for staying would dissolve¡­


    Her heart beat as if it had been a crude facsimile all her life, deafening her ears with its thunderous thumping as it pumped true life through her veins for the first time.


    It was possible. All of it was possible. To be with one who would greet her warmly. To have one who would happily share her company. To cease the endless moons smiling at the ceiling because faltering would only bring tears as sleep continued to escape her.


    She would have a den to care for while they stayed. Sure, they would not be her kind, but such was now forfeit anyway. Even once they departed to their origins, Bill would be reassured by the visit and thank her for accommodating it. He would be jubilant and relaxed, holding her close while intoxicating her with his scent. His warmth. He would have one to spend his life with while knowing his progeny were well, and she would be satisfied in return, soaking in the affection from one so tantalizing close. She would burn to feel more.


    So what if they sequestered away from the cities? She would go anywhere he needed, and her condition was unlikely to be accepted near them in the first place.


    So what if their den was small? They would fill it just as much as any proper den-pack, and his laugh alone would engulf the structure with more joy than anywhere else.


    Who cared if there would be few others at all? They needed nothing but each other¡¯s company, the thought of keeping him to herself proving as addictive as the air she breathed.


    It didn¡¯t matter if she would never receive the gift, she had everything she could ever want. She had him.


    Or¡­she would have him¡­hypothetically¡­


    In reality, she had naught but time and longing¡ªher thoughts tugged back to the quiet den, both slowly filling with explosives and loneliness.


    She had not asked about the ¡®pairing¡¯ application, nor if he would be interested in applying for such with her. She had not sated the desire to spend a moon''s rest in his embrace, feeling his bare flesh against the pads of her paws as wakefulness came upon them, his scent welcoming her to an existance no longer unloved. She had not been successful in pretending he had yet to pierce her defences with his sincerity, the affectionate touch caressing shards of her soul that she thought withered and dead.


    It was a mystery why she craved to claim him so aggressively¡ªwhy her core demanded she seek more than kind words and pleasant companionship. The only clues were the aching in her chest and the urges that spoke to her wordlessly.


    They whispered to make him her own before another sought her place, stealing the only happiness she ever truly had. They begged her to right the wrong, to reunite with him and make herself whole again. They screamed at her for leaving him unguarded and alone, uncaring of what protections might be in place, for they were not her. She could ignore it all she¡¯d like, but they declared that she was his now, and it was wrong to spend even one more moment failing to ensure it stayed that way.


    Yet the waiting continued, the mess was taken care of, and the silent tallies were updated as it got closer to when he would walk through the door to breathe life back into her. She would ask about their future, and then he would answer.


    Until then, she need only suppress the incessant thoughts suggesting she finally putting her career to more traditional use, taking down every wall and body that dared stand between them.


    She just needed to wait.


    - - - - -


    The blanket wrapped around Sunundra eased the sensation of dark tendrils constricting her lungs. It had come from Bill''s room, and although she refrained from entering his space as long as possible, she needed something to feel like he was near. Like he hadn¡¯t been just a feverish dream of outcomes more favourable. The plush fabric softly bundled the pale-furred female in faint traces of his scent to stop the screeching impulses¡ªa stopgap measure, yet still far more effective than the vacant den.


    It was clean, despite how tiring wakefulness was. Truthfully, she hadn¡¯t the energy to do much at all, her form conserving every mote for reuniting with her other. Impulses pulled and clawed at her to act, yet she could only wait for him to return, and thus the protest was made known. Ticks of static droned in her ears.


    __nd h__.


    Yet she ignored the voices itching at her thoughts, spending every restless moon staring at the exit while her bitter ration bars were the only thing she subsisted on. All that told of the lethargically passing time was the ever-increasing grip of the crushing Void, compacting and cracking her resolve. Yet still, she waited.


    She waited until the time she expected Bill to return¡­which subsequently passed, not even a flicker of his presence gracing the den.


    The entire sun was spent with her paws clasped to her chest. Though she knew not the exact number of moons to have passed, her instincts warned that he had been gone for too long, eventually goading her into staying ready to greet him, which she took as a reliable enough metric. If her subconscious claimed he was to return, he was, so she stood just in front of the den¡¯s exit with expectation and a muted sense of anticipation.


    She was a mess, but even the smallest sliver of him would be repaid a thousand times over in whatever relief she could have otherwise. His curious smile and teasing remarks about how she donned his bedspread would be worth any measure of embarrassment. All she wanted was the moment that he entered the den to come a little sooner.


    Yet he never arrived¡­


    ¡­But it did.


    The door buzzed loudly, almost deafening the ear pressed against the frame in hopes of gaining the slightest hint of his steps. The pain barely registered, but the words looming impassively upon the metal fixture certainly did.


    The stalwart barrier displayed sterile text devoid of sincerity: a poorly translated apology stating that her cohabitant had been the victim of an unfortunately fatal accident. An offer of a replacement followed, assuming she wished it and if availability allowed, then a closing paragraph consisting of a short gratitude for her continued participation in the experiment.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    It was direct, clear, and prominently visible¡­yet the words slid tortuously from her perception, gouging trenches into the shattered remains of her sanity.


    She knew not how long she spent on collapsed legs reading and rereading the note. Eventually, the usual flat, bland surface replaced it, yet her eyes repeated the motions. The syllables were burned into her vision to be scrutinized and refused again and again, stinging and burning as she rejected the contents.


    He was¡­gone?


    No. It was a lie. He left to plead his case and request that the Union pursue their medical advancements in dealing with the defect. He was not anywhere dangerous. He would not leave her behind. He was¡­delayed! Yes. He was simply delayed and just needed her to¡­ She just needed¡­


    She just needed him.


    She needed him so badly.


    She needed him to call her his Sunshine. She needed his scent to fill her soul. She needed his tender touch and comforting warmth when loneliness struck, his affectionate gaze placed upon her form.


    Perhaps she had prayed for someone to care about her, yet now all she could think about was the strange male who unearthed his deepest sorrow to show her something wonderful, simply because he wished to tell her that she wasn¡¯t repulsive. The one who reached out to her when the world rejected her very being, and yet continued to do so when she rejected it in return. The one who held her so close when she was lost in memories so far away.


    The one who m_de her ________.


    A distorted scratching heralded a force she had never felt before, pulling her deeper into the calls of the Void that had been growing stronger with every sun that passed. He couldn''t be gone, because then there would be nothing left for her anymore. She refused to believe that her other was stripped from her before she could take him as her own.


    She could lie to herself all she desired. She could pretend that the need pulling at her centre didn¡¯t exist. Her prayers were answered, yet she had been too scared of rejection to comply with her instincts, and now they suggest that she had nothing?


    She had no den to call her own. There was no pack to welcome her back. No unit sought their missing member. No Bill would be the air to stoke her flame¡­ There was no hope? That was it?


    No.


    She refused.


    She must f__d h_m.


    He wouldn''t leave his Sunshine behind. She wouldn''t let him. She just needed to wait, even as the fragile shards he had spent so much effort in assembling fell into a shattered pile of despondent fragments. She just needed to wait, even as her mind became horrid static and noise, aberrant tendrils of the endless eternity beckoning her forth.


    All she needed to do was wait. Either she would be there for his return, or she would greet him in the Void, reunited to spend forever together.


    She would hold him again.


    _o ma__er wh_t.


    She would wait.


    = = = = =


    Heroon leaned back, his brows almost fused from how skeptical he was of the readouts and the STO''s words. Illia had stopped near the end, looking bewildered while confirming with her transcripts that she hadn¡¯t misheard a defect claiming the impossible.


    Everything from the mentioned replication of hormones and endorphins to the degree it becomes necessary for those who acquire it.


    As much as he would like to claim her ignorance of the signs as admittance of deception, the fact that she wasn¡¯t aware of the significance could be expected for even a perfectly normal Lilhun, let alone one who lacked a single other to teach her about it.


    Only six percent of individuals ever encounter someone who might be compatible¡ªand likely only the slimmest percentile of those spend long enough around their potential other for it to be possible. Even the most well-informed could be easily forgiven for not recognizing the signs immediately.


    What worried them was that a defective¡ªa disgrace of the species which was proven to be incapable of such¡ªhad achieved the unthinkable, and that the way she described it¡­the words she used¡­


    ¡°You do not take this farce seriously, do you, Heroon?¡± Illia pressed, an almost hysterical laugh tinting her words. ¡°A bond? With that? With an alien!? Just the mere implication of this scoffs in the face of faith!¡±


    He stopped himself from outright agreeing. The readouts and decades of his career told him that there had yet to be a single lie recorded, as loathe he was to admit. The pale-furred female''s story wasn¡¯t quite infallible yet, but only the truth had been voiced thus far. There was more to this tale than he could have ever been prepared for.


    It was enough to mute both mirth and bewilderment.


    ¡°I feel we should only be more critical,¡± he stated neutrally. Existence-shaking or not, he had a duty to evaluate the claims of the grey and yellow-furred female, no matter how outlandish they appeared on the surface.


    ¡°We need not humour this fiction¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªWe. Will. Obey. Our orders.¡±


    The tan-furred female flinched back, lowering her head submissively. ¡°...It will be done, high one.¡±


    ¡°Lia,¡± he sighed, regret staining his voice. He reached out with a paw before closing it into a fist, slowly pulling away. ¡°I am aware of how it sounds. I approve no more than yourself, but we must continue. If this is true, then the rest becomes infinitely more credible¡­¡±


    ¡°And then we must act,¡± she finished coldly, a deep resolve settling in her eyes. He nodded, proud of her for seeing reason over emotion.


    ¡°Indeed.¡±


    His attention moved back to the captive female inside the holding cell. Subtle changes occurred in the dolorous visage as the interrogation progressed; her pupils narrowed to something more normal, the shifting in her seat dispelled the deceased appearance, and her voice gained some emphasis when the shadows of emotion intensified. She even began wincing as she tried to move, the injuries tearing anew and applying fresh saturation to the bandages littering her form.


    Oddly enough, she was particularly insistent on reopening one in her stomach, though he suspected it was not a conscious decision. He doubted much of what she did was a ¡®decision¡¯ at all; every twitch and slight jolt spoke of a subdued feral animal waiting for a crack in surveillance rather than a Lilhun encased in a maximum security facility¡ªa beast restrained by gossamer civility, yet no less dangerous.


    ¡®Broken¡¯ came to mind yet again. Not of those who prayed upon the church¡¯s steps to follow their other after giving apols to the Hunt Mother for failing their task¡­but of those who had the gift removed. Those who sought its weight in blood as compensation, the voracious appetite of vengeance turning blind to satiation until nothing remained for it to feed upon.


    There was just one issue weighing on his mind¡­


    If the female¡¯s words were true, and she had managed to return despite her condition, then who remains to be bled dry?


    What prevents her from chasing after her other?


    He exhaled heavily, a claw rubbing between his eyes to dissipate the discomfort building on his brow. He depressed the button of the intercom.


    ¡°You purport to have waited for the return of the human male, but it is implied that such was not rewarded. I would typically assume a retelling to end there¡­yet you are here, and thus I must insist you continue.¡±


    The defective female snarled in the most lively display so far, the sound of an enraged growl building until it was transmitting loud enough to make Illia flinch. Heroon adjusted the output to compensate, but the fury stuttered and stopped as quickly as it had appeared, the end of a whimper leaking into the ire.


    The pale-furred female glared at the cold food atop the cell¡¯s table, her true focus elsewhere as pain filled the once-dead eyes. ¡°No. Nothing was ¡®rewarded¡¯ in the fashion you are insinuating, yet I did gain something.¡±


    ¡°...Elaborate.¡±


    The expressive scowl slipped into a shadow of a sardonic grin, madness glinting in her stare. ¡°They made a mistake, High Quesitar.¡±


    Heroon''s gaze narrowed. ¡°Being?¡±


    ¡°They thought too little of what I was prepared to do for him.¡±


    = = = = =


    Thoughts flowed languidly through viscous ichor, none taking root long enough to ruminate upon, for they were immaterial and worthless.


    They were not Bill. They were not the release Sunundra sought. They were meaningless without him.


    And so they drifted away, whatever semblance of life in her form focusing on the flat barricade which prevented their reunion. It was a silent pursuit of the last promise she made to him. She was to wait for his return until she could wait no longer.


    If he truly never returned, then she could only ask his forgiveness for taking so long to join him elsewhere.


    Until then, she waited, whispers in her blood resurfacing with bitterly increasing clarity.


    Find h_m. B____he him. Cl_im him.


    But she ignored the warping murmurs, both for her vow to stay behind and for the anticipation of viewing the skydeck with the male who made her heart beat anew. For the future that she had been too scared to ask of, yet fantasized about all the same.


    A faint ticking caused her ears to twitch towards the door, the metal entrance muffling the sound from the corridor. Her first instinct should have been to feel joy, yet it was wrong. It was unlike the slight report of claws carelessly contacting the floor, yet also different from the heavier steps that she had come to associate with Bill. He had not returned. The new sound was meaningless.


    The odd noise grew closer regardless, increasing in volume until it stopped just outside, a subtle click telling of a halting step. The door popped softly, then cracked to reveal the silhouette of an alien species she had yet to meet, carrying more of those boxes that her den-mate had previously ordered. How ironic that he was not there to accept it, speak with them, or consume what was delivered last time.


    Would he greet them? Of course, he would, but the actual question was if emulating him would help her feel better. She would still be waiting for his return, and another person having a favourable opinion of their den would reflect upon him as well¡­


    Yes. He would be delighted if she did so. He might even rub between her ears in that strange, affectionate way, giving soft words of praise and reassurance to the one who feared rejection. The thought drew warmth into the freezing vacancy of her heart. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was enough.


    She got to her feet as the strange alien bumped the door fully open with its knee, allowing a moment for the pale-furred female to register what the being before her even was.


    It was much taller than her, easily a head or two above Bill. Sinewy muscles connected the four limbs and gave bulk to much of its form, though the lack of a tail was interesting. Clawed paws sported stubby yet sharp implements at the end of four forward-facing digits, a fifth facing backwards. Its digitigrade legs ended in three-taloned feet instead of the pads she possessed. A narrow muzzle seemed quite reptilian, though some features around the eyes were more avian. Fine tiny feathers fully occupied the outside of its limbs, a leathery skin peering through everywhere else. Its eyes blinked a tertiary lid, a translucent membrane still allowing the piercing gaze to bore into her, vertically slit pupils adjusting to the dimmer light of the den.


    She briefly pondered the alien and the grey-coloured attire that matched what Greg had worn. Still, she decided that although it seemed rather aggressively evolved, it was best to refrain from passing judgment when her previous bouts of doing such had been so misguided. The smell wasn¡¯t as vivid as the last time someone had visited¡ªonly traces of the sterile air that usually filled the hallways reaching her senses¡ªwhich was somewhat disappointing.


    ¡°Greetings,¡± she offered weakly, her dry and scratchy utterance irritating her throat. The new alien continued glaring, turning its attention to the rest of the den after a moment. The being''s response came as a mixture of a hiss and a chirp in both of her ears, though the translator offered its services promptly.


    ¡°Delivery. Where to?¡±


    Sunundra smiled as best she could, but after wearing such genuine expressions around Bill, the facade she had once mastered was now a poor rendition. ¡°The kitchen, please. I will store it.¡±


    The being scoffed before walking past, irritated by her mere presence and that she would insinuate it would help her at all. The usual, then.


    She followed after it, each step requiring more and more of her limited energy, but she would not falter. She would make a good impression on this newcomer for her den-mate.


    The new one unceremoniously dropped the box on the counter, removing various contents with barely enough care to avoid throwing them across the surface. Each thunk and sifting sound drew a wince from her, but she kept up the mask.


    ¡°Do you require assistance?¡± she asked softly, struggling to resist shrinking as yet another frozen package landed with a bang. The alien tossed the last item out before folding the box and placing it within a pocket of its uniform.


    ¡°No.¡±


    Her shattered resolve led to flattened ears and a dispirited expression, unmoving even when the being tried to motion for her to get out of its way. It pressed a paw to her chest, nudging her enough to squeeze past when it grew tired of her noncompliance.


    Then she smelled it¡ªfaint, but present. Blissful, electrifying, and the reason she still lived at all.


    Bill.


    Her breath caught as her muzzle skimmed its skin, the familiar scent lighting up her system like a flash fire igniting her soul. She moved instinctively, her paw shooting out to grab the alien by the arm, holding them still with an iron grip.


    The whispering in her ears finally became clear shouts, drowning out all else but their demands.


    Find him!


    ¡°Where is he?¡± she croaked out dryly, the urges itching in her veins.


    The being tugged uselessly on the limb, an aggravated hiss building in volume. ¡°Release. Now.¡±


    It knows.


    ¡°Where is Bill?¡± she voiced more urgently, dragging her gaze from the floor for it to burrow into the alien¡¯s visage. It blinked its clear membrane lids before attempting to shrug her off again. She did not relent. ¡°Where is Bill? You have met with him. He is a human shorter than yourself. Where is he?¡±


    A flinch went through its bipedal reptilian body, the tiny feathers shaking. ¡°Never met.¡±


    It lies. It knows. It prevents.


    A creaking sensation travelled through her paw, the claws extending and bending the firm flesh beneath them. Her heart pumped heavily. Her voice grew cold. ¡°You will tell me.¡±


    Another useless struggle met her demand. It knew, yet would not say. It kept her away from him.


    The thickened slurry of her mind bubbled and boiled. It knew, yet remained silent.


    Make it speak.


    A shrill shriek assaulted her ears as the creaking sensation gave way to a sharp snap, her claws piercing and breaking the hollow bone within. The alien¡¯s paw burst towards her face, yet she stood stalwart, catching the offending appendage within her own, uncaring of the burning warmth where claws had cut her temple. She gripped its wrist tighter and tighter, each grinding noise met with a detached stare.


    ¡°You will tell me.¡±


    Yet it refused.


    It prevents.


    It must speak.


    Make it speak.


    A tug. A snap. A shriek. Panicked motions met with ruthless claws and feral brutality. It knew. It knew, yet would not divulge. It would not speak. She would make it. She must.


    Yet it did not yield, kicking futility until she pushed the leathery creature against the archway. Her core¡¯s whispers grew louder, unfiltered by the promise to wait for her other, the foundation of their agreement broken. They had lied to her.


    It prevents.


    It sought to keep him from her.


    It seeks to steal him.


    It sought to take him from her.


    Growling formed in her throat, escaping gritted teeth as maintaining control became painfully difficult. Images of the enemy in her grasp rendered bled dry and desiccated invaded her mind, joining the overwhelming hiss of static. Fragments from within shredded her veins like broken glass, screaming for her to seek retribution and bellowing the demand for action.


    ¡°Where is he!?¡±


    A serrated maw lunged forward, sharp teeth gaining purchase on her shoulder. Pain surged as blood spilt from the wound, yet she hardly noticed. The voices grew louder, mangled echoes ringing in her ears.


    It stands.


    Why was it still living when it was a threat to her?


    It knows.


    Because it knew where he was.


    It hides.


    Why did it not tell her when she begged so pitifully?


    It harms.


    Because it sought to reduce him to such as well.


    It must end.


    She must end it.


    Her claws plunged into its neck, slamming its form back against the narrow pillar. ¡°WHERE IS HE!?¡±


    Yet it did not answer. It only hissed and spat in defiance. It withheld that which she must know.


    It lies.


    The alien lashed out at her, more cuts forming on her flesh. She shattered the bone, forcing the pinpoint pressure that grew more accurate with every attempt. Red stained both fur and vision.


    It takes.


    Another strike. Another break. Another painful screech was drowned out by the voices.


    It keeps.


    Again.


    It harms.


    Again!


    It will bring his end.


    And she will have done nothing about it. He would be gone, and she would pass uselessly, letting it happen while losing the only one who would ever care about her.


    The only one who could possibly love her¡­


    Her ____.


    Flares of crackling static tortuously filled her skull, each deafening wave increasing in time with her pulse. Another snap within her grasp soaked her paws with sticky fluid, drawing her thoughts from the screams that demanded death. What¡­? When¡­?


    Wasn¡¯t she holding it against the archway? Why was it on the ground? When did she mount it? Why was she striking downward? Why was she in pain?


    She blinked, gazing at the sputtering alien on the floor of the main room in the den. It glared up at her with bloodshot eyes, the same life-giving crimson pooling beneath its form, shattered bones peeking out from their fleshy prison. Its arms were splayed limply, numerous holes oozing ichor freely. Punctures ran along one side of its throat, the legs faring little better. Its ribs had collapsed, yet it still breathed, if shakily. All of this, and it still hadn¡¯t told her where Bill was. She filled her lungs with a shudder.


    It knows.


    Why did it not tell her? What would it suffer to remain silent? Why did her soul ache so badly without him? Why did she lose the only thing that mattered? Why was she doing this?


    It took him.


    It¡­took him¡­?


    Her eyes settled on the battered creature¡­ No, on what had stolen that which was hers. What she needed to remove before it could do more.


    It must end.


    It would not speak. It would only hinder and prevent her from finding him. It had sinned against her, yet it refused to rectify its trespass. It must atone in the Void.


    She must send it.


    But why did it do such things to her? Why was Bill not here? What did they gain from taking him? Why was she alone again? He had accepted her! A future worth living was possible! WHY!?


    She would do anything to touch him again¡­ To see his smile¡­ To hear him call her his Sunshine¡­


    Prove it.


    Of course¡­ She must prove her resolve. Her dedication to what she was given. The Hunt Mother does not smile upon the weak of faith¡­


    An unhinged giggle slipped from her lips, blood dripping from the lacerations on her face. Even if her prayers were answered, her trial had not ceased. She must grip what was hers with an ironclad determination, ripping sinew from the bone of whatever sought to take it.


    It was simple. Clear. The urges told of the path she must take for him. To deserve him. They offered truths.


    She need only listen.


    Her claws extended once more in the haze of adrenaline and distortion, bringing them to bear against the enemy.


    ¡°...po¡­¡±


    Her ear flicked at the gurgled response, finally registering her paws wrapped around the alien¡¯s throat, the digits plying flesh to expose arteries she was to sever¡ªthe existence she needed to end for stealing a defect¡¯s reason to live. She breathed only for him now. There was nothing left for her but him.


    The brutal execution halted as Bill¡¯s reassuring smile flashed in her mind, his gentle tone hiding the pain beneath. His warm words cut through the cold voices, penetrating the miasma surrounding her heart.


    ¡®You¡¯re a kind person, miss. I wish there were more like you.¡¯


    Then she was back in the moment, blood spilling over her fur as she sought the death of another, the colourful existence she led in his presence again replaced by the murky monochromatic drudge that constituted everything else¡­ An eerie stillness that made her consciousness sluggish and her thoughts fragmented.


    No¡­ This wasn¡¯t¡­ Bill would¡­ He would hate this¡­


    Dampness built in her eyes, hot rivulets running down her cheeks and diluting the red stains wherever they dripped. Fragile sobs contrasted the grisly scene, yet she could only feel remorse for betraying his opinion of her. This was not the kindness he saw in her. This was not what Bill would want.


    ¡°The¡­depot,¡± the alien voiced again, defeat tinting its gaze. ¡°Depot know.¡±


    The depot? Where was the depot?


    It glanced downwards towards one of the pockets on its now red uniform, her shaky claws producing a small terminal from the pouch. A crude map filled the blood-smeared screen, though only one route had been programmed. She recognized some of the layout as the rough area around her den, but the rest led to a large room elsewhere in the complex¡ªthe ¡®depot,¡¯ she supposed.


    It had finally given what she had asked for¡­


    She let her arms fall limp as she took in what had been done. The fading light in the alien¡¯s eyes satisfied the sickening compulsion within her, yet the part which wished to be cherished only wept. Was this the cost of her desire? Even if she expended her entire supply of medicine, nothing would fix what she had done. Nothing would mend the wounds.


    They took him.


    R-right. They took from her, thus she had taken in return. Bill¡­ Bill would understand. He must.


    She stood, sparing only a single glance at the newly created corpse before regarding the open exit and swallowing her shame. Prepare. She must prepare. She must gather enough supplies to escape with him.


    They will try to stop her.


    She would not let them.

 Chapter 9

    The beat of her heart and the deadened pat of her paws on the sterile metal floor resonated in her ears, the rustle of her equipment reassuring her that she had prepared.


    Sunundra had filled her backpack with as many explosives as she could reasonably carry, and although it was for the best, it bothered her to leave so much behind. They were her creations, inspired by Bill¡¯s kindness. The very thought of another taking them itched at her skin, yet destroying them would hurt just as much. She had decided that the last thing she would do before heading out was to set a small charge in the door frame. It would trigger if anyone tried to enter the den without knowing how to circumvent it, setting off everything at once. It eased the aggravation and reluctance of leaving that piece of herself, keeping her focus on the main objective of finding the male her core so desperately needed.


    She took the corners slowly, no matter how her impulses insisted on not wasting even a moment. The maze of pathways and oppressively consistent lighting left little room for haphazard decisions, and it was only a matter of time until they noticed her passage or questioned the missing staff, so caution was paramount. Careless haste and sloth both carried the same cost. Were she too hurried, she could find herself in an unexpected confrontation. Too cautious, then they would have ample time to close in on her, and her chances of seeing Bill again would be gone.


    Be alert. Be smooth. Be aware. Be moving.


    How much time had passed since she left the den? Long enough that her panting had dried again. Too long. There were too many hallways and junctions, too many moments of static disrupting concentration if she focused on it, and too much distortion in her ears, the volume deafening her in that strange way. Yet it all cut through the mix clearly¡ªfrom the blood in her veins and the airy reverb of her claws striking the metal floor, producing a subtle echo hiding beneath the sound of her breath.


    But the whispers had stopped.


    The once overwhelming, chanting deluge was now a soft wash of warping ambience that expressed anticipation, the tonality surpassing any gleaned coherence. The electric hum of vigilance loaded her muscles and sent shivers through her flesh as she moved down the halls. She was akin to ancient black powder piled around a candle, waiting for the flame to lick the surface and ignite.


    She pressed herself against the wall, forcing breath through her teeth to still her shaking paws. Her ears swivelled in search of sound, yet she only heard the crackling buzz. No alien speech, no chasing footsteps, and no screeching alarms. There would be. It was just a matter of time.


    She pulled the small terminal from her breast pocket, stopping at the edge of another corner. The blood-smeared screen dutifully presented a map of the facility, stains of red blurring the image. She brushed a pad over the display, her sloppy attempt to clear away the filth only distorting more of the screen. Thankfully, the simplistic line work was easy to follow, a claw easily tracing along the numerous paths around her rough location. It hadn¡¯t seemed that far to the depot when she first set out, but the true scope of the complex had made itself known.


    It was colossal.


    Hundreds of rooms showed up as dulled greys if she bothered to widen the image, thousands of air vents and maintenance tunnels running through the complex like veins of a living organism, lending credence to her suspicion that they were far underground. The single access panel she found along the way had prompted her with several lines of text in various alien languages, which she assumed to be a request for verification. Lacking other ideas, she held the terminal she had acquired up to the interface, but all that achieved was a red flash and something that appeared to be an error message or refusal.


    She had left it behind in the interest of time, but knowing she could have cut down on the journey through the hidden passages weighed on her thoughts. Every extra step was another one taken without him near.


    How much further? It was a stupid question to ask of herself, but one which repeated relentlessly in her head. She focused on answering it, since not doing so brought back the whimper of a defective female who wished to mourn the loss of innocence and years of careful manoeuvring on the battlefield.


    Never had she taken a life so brutally, and never as the instigator. Yet it felt justified. It felt mandated. To refuse would be to sin. To relent would be to surrender her right to what was hers. To Bill¡­and the future she desired more than life without him.


    The bitter taste of irony tinted her tongue as she felt the weight of her loadout, every unhinged and anarchic explosive on her person acting as yet another testament to what she was willing to do, no matter what an entire career of service implied. She would break all that chained her for him because, without him, she would be broken herself.


    Focus. She needed to focus. Find the depot. Find Bill. Regrets could wait until she was back in his arms, though she doubted such would cross her mind then. Where did she need to go now?


    The terminal depicted a bright outline for only one of the many branches, while others were a dulled grey¡ªa remnant of what she suspected the workers used to navigate the maze of available paths.


    Yet her frequent referencing showed an odd inconsistency in the rooms hidden behind the featureless walls. Specifically, some rooms had been blacked out, with red text imposingly placed over the space on the map. Was it worth investigating one of the oddities nearby? An uncomfortable weight settled in her stomach as she considered it. She needed to move on, but this could be useful¡ªperhaps it was an entrance to the maintenance tunnels or ductwork. It could be an armoury. She compared the distances before slipping the terminal back into its pocket.


    No. She needed to find him. Distractions were just that: distractions.


    The light in the corridor fluttered, then extinguished, a red glow taking its place as low sirens howled their warning throughout the complex. It seemed her decision would have been made for her regardless. They had discovered her escape.


    They will come.


    She detached one of her new creations from the backpack and tossed a stimulant tablet into her muzzle, attaching the bomb to a corner of the junction and heading down the path indicated by the terminal. Another device was pulled and readied in her paw. The combat drug crunched between her teeth, her heart swiftly hammering in response to the chemicals and bringing life to the body which had been so deprived of sleep.


    They will pursue.


    She would make that troublesome.


    The clicks of her hurried pace echoed in the halls, punctuated by careful pauses that would do more than stop her pursuers.


    - - - - -


    A rumble shook the very walls. Sunundra breathed slowly, keeping an ear pitched behind her as she maintained a careful but quick pace despite the cocktail setting her form on edge. The whispers had softened now, slipping effortlessly into the cogs of her mind between each lungful of air.


    Too early.


    They spotted the tripwire.


    They live.


    They¡¯ll come.


    Bigger.


    No. She couldn¡¯t risk bringing down the structure yet. Not when the size was unknown. Her map was a navigational tool, not a maintenance or technical representation of the complex, nor did it offer information beyond the current level she occupied. Yet that didn¡¯t stop her eyes from cataloguing the design consistencies. Where were corners regularly placed? Where did patterns surface where weight would require support? When did material choice contradict cost-saving measures?


    The answers came on a level so deep that it felt like her nervous system had been merely awaiting its true purpose all this time. There was no unit to exacerbate her worries of being labelled a female who glorified death. No twisted scowls were waiting for her once she returned, begrudgingly allowing her presence due to convenience and edicts. She was loose of those chains.


    A kit had been given light in that church so long ago, the flash of chemical volatility sparking life and anchoring her sense of self. That bead of fascination was suppressed in return. Controlled. Obsession had been allowed but glimpses of illumination in fear of what might occur if it were bathed in the warmth of the purest suns.


    No more.


    She now walked the hallways with confidence, an ironclad drive moving her paws. Freely modified breach charges were adhered to walls as she meticulously pathed her way through the maze of passages¡ªsome set on timers, others, improvised proximity triggers. They would come for her. They would try to stop her.


    They will fail.


    For the male who made the sting of life into a soothing salve.


    For her bo__.


    For Bill, she will never cease.


    A string of rippers was placed across the floor of a junction and set to activate via pressure. Her focused expression never waned, even as the shockwaves ripped down the halls from multiple directions. The detonations followed her patterns, the designs drafted by a caged kit who had watched from behind the bars of subservience as her outward form took down foundations and structures, noting details and particularities like an addict. How was she to make this perfect? What changes were to be made to which charges? What materials could be exploited?


    What was she forbidden from using?


    Where was she prohibited from using them?


    How would she bring down what stood in her way, with not a mote of effort wasted?


    How much devastation could she cause if the shackles were to fall?


    She stood abruptly at the thought unaccompanied by the warping voices. Why was a sanguine smile trying to form?


    Purpose.


    Yes. Purpose. She had learned far more than how to safely enter a hostile building, yet allowing such knowledge to be expressed was risky. Discouraged. That did not stop the obsession dwelling inside her from pondering her limits, though.


    Her inner depths had played and tinkered like a kit given space and creativity, leaking the creations into her work over the years when such was acceptable. Every improvement was vetted and weighed before being used. Every explosive underwent careful scrutiny before being allowed in the field. Yet she felt the heft inside her backpack¡ªthe unfettered offspring of her disturbed fascination made manifest. She was aware of the lethality as each permutation came to be in her paws, ideas and concepts forming ruthless results.


    She had not stopped it this time. She was tired of controlling it.


    He did not ask her to.


    No, Bill encouraged her creativity. He trusted her to make something beautiful when given the tools to manufacture the ruinous, saving the gruesome for those who endangered them. He filled her with his curiosity and sawed away the chains. He offered a kind paw to the one who had been imprisoned in the darkness. The one who might have freed themselves, yet feared what such would cost. The young soul was trapped behind bars of aging rejection, reaching from their cage to be loved while ignoring the bleeding flesh marred from countless cutting words and unending vicious hatred.


    That unwanted soul had surrendered, withdrawing her once hopeful limb to curl up and wither as the blackness came to claim her. Yet the male had reached in, searing himself upon the festering metal of broken dreams to hold her close. He offered what little parts of himself he still had to help mend the wounds, no matter the suffering he earned in exchange. She had been freed by him. She began to create again because of him, the chains of obligation strewn upon the confines in which she was no longer detained. She had made beautiful things for the male, his soft smile giving her warmth.


    But they took that warmth.


    They stole her muse.


    She stopped making those beautiful things.


    They are a danger.


    She started making the gruesome.


    They will learn of their mistake.


    Then she will be warm again.


    Sunundra allowed the serenity to show on her face and referenced the map, sparing one last glance at yet another hallway which would come down upon those who impeded her purpose, and so learned of her methods. Her bag lightened with every stop, but the thundering explosions told of supplies well-used, even if she had been forced to leave most of her designs behind.


    She needed to find where Bill was. The depot would know. They must. Her claws traced over the terminal to confirm which route would be best to use, mentally marking which passages needed to be rigged as she went to throw them off her trail.


    She would find him.


    She would feel complete again.


    They would be ripped apart by her claws for daring to stand in her way.


    Everything would be right.


    The voices giggled. So too did she.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    - - - - -


    The corridors became more linear as time passed, the explosions lowering in frequency. They likely learned to be far more cautious about tracking her down, especially now that there was less reason to place changes where others might not go. She had forced the already maze-like passageways into disarray, collapsing strategically chosen halls to complicate and lengthen the path between them and herself. The shortest route became the most deadly. When they thought her methods were so simple, a weak charge was left to be spotted and destroyed, instilling confidence in her pursuers. They wouldn¡¯t see the true payload, only the burst of dust and eternal black.


    Her pace slowed to check the map, a debate about the use of her dwindling weapons playing out in the back of her mind. Most of what remained were ill-suited to act as a trap; she only had a few utility devices and what amounted to little more than grenades. A string of rippers sat in her pocket, a bundle of linked firecrackers padding the bottom of her bag, but although the first might find niche use, the latter was hardly more than a physical reminder of what not to lose when the whispers urged her to do more.


    It reminded her that she was more than what was allowed to be released. When her supplies lay expended and her goal reached, the adolescent whimsy would remain, harbouring the joy and hope of a kit discovering a field which held naught but possibility and a future of acceptance. It kept her grounded. Sane. As long as she had it¡­as long as she had him¡­she could embrace this part of herself.


    She could still be his Sunshine.


    She jogged down yet another junction, the building silence sewing tension in her muscles. The path stretched endlessly, bending to accommodate the tunnels and vents hidden behind the walls. The narrowing options meant she could conserve her explosives, though placing them all but confirmed where she was going. All she had stalling them now was the unpredictability of her destination. They likely would have already cut her off if they knew where she was heading.


    Luckily, the place she had spent so long travelling to came into view just as she was about to reference the terminal. Broad doors twice the height of the passage lay at the end of the hall, the reinforced barriers forbidding the path forward, an itch to plant a charge tugging at her mind. A panel rested off to the side, similar in appearance to the one she had tried previously. She held the terminal up to the panel and received a chirp in return, followed by several thunks as mechanical latches released, the doors silently sliding open from the centre.


    A step back was needed to process the sheer scale of the room.


    Massive shelves of boxes stretched endlessly from one side of the room to the other in every direction, none of the far walls discernible from where she stood. Row after row of the densely packed storage created a claustrophobic tightness despite the size available. Tracks ran along the sides of the shelving, bridging across every so often to allow simple machines to zip from location to location. They paused in their travel to fill a boxy cavity on their back before heading off to parts unknown. Hundreds upon hundreds of them moved in chaotic synchrony, the eerie clacks of each stop echoing infinitely by a chorus of others acting in unison.


    They whirred, then stopped. Whirred, then stopped. A clockwork dystopia brought to life by brutal efficiency.


    The pale-furred female blinked, tearing her gaze from the unceasingly consistent frenzy and ignoring the curiosity regarding what items they might be collecting. The uncertainty of how many occupants might be required to justify such machinations in the complex. What motivated someone to create such an intricate system, yet drown it all in the dull tones of steel and ash? Why install such sparse lighting somewhere that ensured all was accounted for? Was it necessary to possess so many supplies? How large was this project?


    She looked at the slivers of pathways between the shelves warily. This was the depot. The depot knows. It would tell her. All she had to do was find someone who belonged here and question them. She was close.


    Thin clinks punctuated each step into the storage, the oppressive uniformity a fascinating thing to behold, yet disturbing. There were no support pillars. There should be¡ªthey were deep beneath the surface, and there was no way something this large could be structurally sound without them. They would need a material she had never encountered before it was even possible, but here it was, the stress of the unknown eating at her resolve.


    Focus. Let the fascination work on the new information. Find Bill.


    Narrow gaps between the racks allowed little passage, though small indents on the floor suggested they could move for maintenance. She checked each row as she passed, but there must have been far fewer workers required in such a heavily automated system than previously thought; everywhere she looked was barren of people.


    Time passed quickly, wasting precious moments until her pursuers whittled down the paths she might have taken and arrived at the depot. The precise march of servos and track polluted her ears with their din, the repetitive strikes causing a growing urgency with every rack absent of monitoring. She checked again and again as her pace picked up, each vacant section giving birth to new shots of adrenaline. She broke into a run, the cacophony of machinery becoming a dirge to mourn the loss of what might have been.


    Yet a scent tickled at her nose, bringing her progression to a halt just as the weight of her explosives began feeling far too inadequate. She snapped her head to and fro, narrowing down where the source might be. No, not there. Nor here. Here? Almost. Closer.


    Her motions became almost as programmed as the swarm which operated the depot¡ªsteps becoming certain and swift, her paws pushing off the racks to adjust course along the way. She came upon what she had been looking for. A human sat slouched on the floor, the male peacefully asleep in the nook created by misplaced boxes, his grey uniform wrinkled from extended wear. She knew this one. He worked with those who took Bill from her.


    How simple it would be to bleed this one dry. It would be right. He belonged to the ranks of the enemy.


    A kind one.


    ¡­But he had yet to prove a danger. The whispers remained quiet after stating their piece, feeling no need to provoke her into action. The casual friendliness of this one was kept fondly, it seemed. How strange for the voices which had screamed for blood to sound so caring.


    Her paw moved off her bag, shrugging the pack to the ground as she crouched, her eyes burning into the human as she sniffed the air. The same, yet different. She parsed the scent, noting what she could and suppressing the confusion when she could place consistencies. It carried the tinges that made the basis of Bill¡¯s, yet the complexities were divergent. It was unique. It was this human. She could smell it, the confirmation resonating in her core. A certainty. Truth.


    It also carried the stringent odour of alcohol¡ªquite a bit of it, if she had to say. Although she didn¡¯t know how the species handled the substance, such was about to be discovered.


    She huffed dryly in a shadow of amusement. A life spent wondering what it might be like to know of the one you speak to without effort¡ªto be provided countless subtleties without effort¡ªand she learns of such here from ones misaligned from herself. How bitterly appropriate for a defective female to accept every facet of those who were so dissimilar. It felt as if she had been moulded by the Hunt Mother¡¯s paws for a task that none had known awaited them, then discriminated against for her lack of uniformity¡ªa society of nails berating a screw for not yielding to the hammer.


    Sunundra patted the human on the cheek, earning a groan and displeased expression. He mumbled something incoherent in protest, followed by a groggy demand to know who was disturbing him.


    ¡°Greg, was it?¡± she asked evenly, ignoring the foggy request. The male flinched awake with blurry eyes, then a squint that shied away from the light shining into his tired visage, a paw raised to shade himself.


    ¡°Who¡­?¡±


    ¡°Where is Bill?¡±


    ¡°Bill?¡± He blinked heavily, clearing away the vestiges of rest. His confusion quickly turned to horror as he finally registered her appearance. ¡°Why¡­? What... Holy shit, it¡¯s you! Are you okay? You look like you got hit by a truck! What happened? W-wait. You¡¯re here. Why are you here? How are you here?¡±


    She glanced down at her clothing, the black and red fatigues provided by the base now torn and bloodied. Her fur had long since been stained from crimson ichor not of her own, yet the drying redness had saturated with whatever dripped from her cuts until those ceased to flow as well. The painkillers had eased the process quite a bit, apparently¡ªshe was only just noticing the wounds scattered across her form. Still, she had yet to suffer anything after the initial conflict.


    Her gaze returned to the male, her detached tone piercing the air. ¡°They took my other. They claimed him dead, leaving me alone to rot and decay. Yet he remains, hidden from my grasp, but I will find him. I was told the depot would direct me.¡±


    Greg eyed her carefully, a skeptical expression pulling his pursed lips as he failed to ignore her injuries. ¡°I¡­ Look, miss, I can¡¯t just tell you¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªYet you will,¡± she stated evenly, lightly placing a claw tip between his eyes and pressing against the flesh to make a point. ¡°He approved of you, Greg; you are untainted by bitter hatred like so many. You are kind, which is why I am asking for the information instead of tearing it from your throat. I have already spilled the blood of one who prevented me from reaching him. I have likely brought the end to more during my traversal here. I advise you not to give me reason for making you yet another who wanders the endless eternity. I ask you not to give me a reason to doubt his assessment of you.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± His protest sputtered out as she returned the paw to her lap, a remorseful smile being the best she could provide.


    ¡°Please,¡± she implored softly, a crack of her voice breaking through the disconnect she was clinging so tightly to. Even now, she could feel it beneath the righteous fury that kept her blood from running cold¡ªthe tendrils of the Void coiling around her heart to drag her deeper and deeper, no matter how hard she fought. ¡°I need him¡­¡±


    The male scowled, yet she saw not one iota of the infernal hatred that burned within him. She only noted an acrid twist to his scent, the warning of danger muted by an oddly primal instinct. The male was angry, but directing it internally, creating a feedback loop of ire and disgust. It was so clear to her, yet her soul felt no yearning to make it her own, merely drawing the similarities before dismissing it. It was not hers. It was not Bill.


    ¡°He¡¯s on a higher level,¡± Greg whispered hesitantly, looking past her before placing a paw upon the box he had rested against. She stood with him, hooking the strap of her bag to toss over her shoulder. ¡°They keep members up there when they¡¯re waiting to go back, or when there¡¯s been a delay in something.¡±


    Her ear flicked at the curiosity. Odd. ¡°And of this area?¡±


    ¡°This is the ¡®testing¡¯ floor,¡± he spat, fixing his uniform and beckoning her to follow him as he began navigating the maze of shelving with an unsteady stride. ¡°I don¡¯t know what started it, but they would suddenly mark off rooms as ¡®completed¡¯ and tell us to cancel the orders for the occupants. Not the strangest thing, right? People move on, pairs could have a falling out or switch to other levels. It could have just been what it sounds like, whatever they were testing finishing up¡­¡±


    She followed dutifully, taking pace behind him and listening with rapt attention as she fished out a new syringe to dull the resurfacing pain and another tablet to stave off the exhaustion. He paused at the sounds of her rummaging, looking over his shoulder curiously, then inclining his head in understanding when she stuck the needle into her thigh and tossed the empty cartridge. The crack of the stimulant between her teeth firmed her heartbeat like a defibrillator, her ears perking as he continued onward.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t strange until I decided to hang out in one of the apartments that got cleared while I was on shift,¡± he stated, his voice darkening as his steps dragged and words slurred. ¡°They hadn¡¯t moved out. I don¡¯t know what happened, but I guess an argument went too far and security needed to sort out whatever was going on. Neither of them made it.¡±


    ¡°It may have been purposeful,¡± she proposed coldly, her mind connecting more and more dots in the mental landscape. The Union had ended another den? Why? Greg¡¯s words implied there might be more, but how long had it been happening? How did her people not hear of this? Had they? Were they informed, yet some agreement kept it from becoming public knowledge? What could be offered to counter the cost of the Mother¡¯s young?


    The male flinched at her tone, only nodding after a few moments of silence and ducking under low-lying tracks as he navigated the dense chaos with wavering steps. His head turned slightly to address her more directly, but his lips pursed, a short grimace keeping his attention forward. ¡°I thought about that, but I didn¡¯t have the nerve to check again. The room was back in use after a few days anyway, and no one else mentioned anything about it, so I figured it was best just to forget. I¡¯m not paid to ask questions above my rate, and I wasn¡¯t¡­ I wasn¡¯t sure what they¡¯d do if I told them I knew.¡±


    The male stopped at a break in the monotonous environment, gesturing to a smaller, tucked-away corridor that lacked the consistent, smooth textures she had grown used to seeing. For someone who wished little to do with the sins of their employer, he was quite accommodating¡­ She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, wondering what had motivated him to change his opinion about getting involved.


    ¡°And now?¡± she inquired, watching a bitter expression grow on his face.


    ¡°Your room was marked a few hours ago, but we had already sent someone. A lot of rooms had been taken off this week, actually¡­ I didn¡¯t want to think about why,¡± he admitted, a blithe shrug added to the end. ¡°Luckily, we have crates of whisky, low staff, and the orders have slowed down enough for me to slack off.¡±


    The pale-furred female gazed down the passage, noting electrical wiring and exposed supports lining the walls. Junctions were only somewhat visible due to the gently bending path, but it should be easy enough to abide by his directions. ¡°The one who arrived at my den is no more.¡±


    ¡°Is he¡­?¡± He let the question fade hollowly, knitting his brow at the blood dried on her fur. She simply stared back, somewhat surprised by the sardonic smirk that formed. ¡°There¡¯s more going on than just the species getting to know each other, isn¡¯t there?¡±


    ¡°...If my experience is any indication, then yes.¡±


    Greg chuckled mirthlessly, taking the odd terminal off his wrist. He cycled a long breath beleaguered by ethanol before offering it to her. ¡°Here, this should get you wherever you need to be for a while. If you tap your translator to the pattern on the back, it¡¯ll sync up and use whatever library¡¯s installed for any systems you need to use. There¡¯s a detachable cord on the side if you want to plug into something. The elevator is down the maintenance tunnel¡ªthird right, sixth door on the left. Union member¡¯s quarters are on level four.¡±


    The defective accepted the item curiously, turning it over in her paw, the small screen reflecting the cuts and severe expression on her face. Her thoughts lingered on the tone he used, the defeated cadence being a familiar undertone for most of her life. It was a sound of despondency that left her throat when she learned that her condition had been twisted to its new form, leaving only an eternity of isolation to look forward to. The male knew not of the sins of his superiors, yet wore the guilt for his small part in a larger scheme just the same.


    He is sinless.


    He was helping her. Not just complying with the demand, but providing whatever he could to right a wrong he had no part in making.


    He is kind.


    He was, and he would be punished for his care.


    Aid him.


    This one need not suffer. She adjusted her bag, securing it firmly before offering a paw to the male. ¡°Come. I intended to find him and escape, but that does not mean I must do so alone.¡±


    Greg blinked, a stumble stopped by an arm bracing on the shelves. ¡°I¡­ It¡¯s fine. I¡¯ll just say you overpowered me or something and that you were heading to the hangar or security level. That should just get me on probation, but it¡¯ll buy you time.


    Sunundra let out a long exhale. He was unlike her, for his pack did not detest him. He had something to stay for and had a chance to find better later on. Given his assistance now, he might provide it again if he were to find another¡ª


    A soft clink and a flicker of distortion in her periphery sent all thought screeching to a halt. She knew that warping in the air. She knew it far too well¡­


    She was found.


    And they were not taking chances.


    Her arms came up reflexively to guard her vitals, barely making it in time before a deafening shockwave rippled through her. Her bones creaked, bending as a deluge of shrapnel saturated the surroundings and stripped flesh where it landed. Gravity relinquished its hold. Both of them were ripped off their feet and sent into the dense storage shelves, crashing through the racks from the force of the explosion. A deadened crack of her skull against the metal frame snapped blackness over her vision, flashes of coherency piecing together time fragment by shattered fragment.


    One. Two. Three racks were broken through, each adding new lacerations and embedding splinters into her flesh before a fourth stopped her from going any further. The metal post remained firm, a hollow snap echoing in her chest as it caught her crumpled form, then dumped her on the ground for smaller packages and containers to rain upon.


    It was only the syringe and excessive stimulants preventing the scream of pain that wished to be let loose, her consciousness blinking in and out from the impact, the drugs coursing through her system holding her together by a thread. The littered dust and debris came down like hail before slowly trickling to a stop, a larger box or two falling in the distance spreading a shimmering sound in their wake. Her lungs burned as she drew breath, a slight bubbling warning her of urgent damage that she should treat immediately, but the soft crunch of boots on glass was enough to postpone any triage.


    Lead weights had replaced the lids of her eyes as she opened them, her sight left blurry, doubled, and unfocused. It was probably for the best; she would rather not see the specifics of what had befallen her temporary ally.


    The kind one is gone.


    Greg¡¯s body lay unnaturally crumpled over the remains of a storage rack, the voices confirming what was obvious. She ripped away her hazy regard from the grisly scene, turning it towards herself. There wasn¡¯t time to confirm her condition, but a glance was enough to tell that her fur was saturating with fresh blood, fragmentation having gouged her stomach open. Large gashes littered her arms, proving her reactive protection had likely saved her life, which was both good and bad news. Good because she had not left Bill behind. Bad because neither of the limbs obeyed her commands.


    Her head raised unsteadily, struggling to focus on the approaching silhouettes obscured by a blanket of dust whirling in the air. Multiple figures moved cautiously, sweeping the area with strange guns and practiced precision. They intended to finish her off.


    Her paw clenched as she tried to push off the ground and flee, yet she collapsed, briefly surrendering to the wounds weakening her limbs.


    Again. Move.


    She quivered and shook, grabbing the strange terminal while picking herself up off the ground. Stumbling steps brought her away from the pursuers, her paw checking how damaged the backpack had gotten, but thankfully it had remained mostly unscathed. Its contents might have survived the abuse. She shrugged off a strap, letting it hang over a shoulder and reaching for the charges, each trudging step forward needing the support of the depot shelves to stop her from falling.


    The grinding, shuffling footsteps barely paused at Greg¡¯s body, getting closer at an alarming rate. A sense of foreboding sprouted as she struggled to clear the blood out of her eyes. They were coming right for her. How? She was sent flying through the isles, then left before they could see her through the haze.


    Wait.


    She glanced back at her paw, then the floor along the path she had taken. Her blood. She was leaving a trail. Frantic claws hooked and gripped her medications. Another painkiller pierced her thigh, followed by a coagulant injected into her neck and a stimulant crushed between her jaws. She filled her limited pockets with whatever would fit, checking the charges and dropping any that were rendered inert. What did she have? What was working? How could she get away? Her claws closed around just the thing she needed.


    She tossed the flash charge past the corner of the rack, the firework-inspired design screaming just as the ones Bill had shown her. It hit the ground with a muted thump, its blinding light and ear-piercing screech covering her escape, yet her leg buckled when she took a turn too quickly. The shelves rattled from the impact.


    Something shoved her shoulder, the crisp crack of a firearm pounding against her ears a fraction later, her new bullet wound adding red down her side. More joined the first, shredding the boxes vaguely in her direction. She scrambled forward as quickly as she could, dropping another screamer and picking a new direction. More gunshots. Another push jolted her leg, a lunging step catching her weight. She gathered the remaining explosives from her bag, holding them to her chest as she clumsily slipped her deadened arm through the strap, then loosely grabbed for her syringes.


    She needed more. More painkillers jabbed into her leg. More coagulant stymying the flowing blood. Her teeth pinched her last two stimulant tablets placed shakily into her maw, held firm for when the current dose ran its course. Her heartbeats felt like individual detonations, every pulse slamming the ichor through her system and wringing compliance from rebellious muscles.


    That just left her grenades¡­ She couldn¡¯t throw anymore¡ªher arms barely had the strength to keep them pressed against her breast. More was growing numb. Most had already grown cold. Get away, patch the wounds, find Bill. Her time to act was woefully limited.


    She activated the timers anyway, letting them fall and detonate on a delay as she trudged forward, each step taking more effort than the last.


    Her body refused commands, going limp when another projectile struck her calf and sent her sprawling onto her stomach, the warmth of her blood contrasting the cold metal floor. Attempts to move were met with nothing but futility. If she could just get up and rig an explosive to take down a support structure, then something could be done. Something could work. Yet she had no more charges, and there was nothing advantageous to put one on anyway.


    The sharp cracks and splintering spray of kinetic gunfire ceased as the steps came closer. Too close. Too quick. She needed time. Just enough to make her flesh obey her will, and then she could escape. She could find the materials to get rid of them. There had to be enough in here somewhere.


    But there was no more time to be had. Her fur was slick with crimson, her body beaten and broken, and her bag empty of devices. The Void taunted her, knowing she had no more choice, and that it would lay its claim soon. She slipped the gifted terminal from her pocket to rest it against her stomach, irritating the oozing wound.


    A kind one had given a boon out of pity, yet he was rewarded with death for showing compassion. Now they would take it from her, and then his last act of care would be forgotten by all, none knowing the small goodness that had existed in the complex. She eyed the gash in her abdomen, a spiteful thought surfacing before she pressed the item into her flesh. Her paw slipped in tortuously, coming free with a tug and refusing to do more than twitch beside her. It was all the limb had left, that final spurt of rebellion.


    Now, even in the Void, she would have it. She would remember. They would have to tear it out of her corpse if they dared take it from her. An outcome that became more and more likely when the blackness crept inwards, blurring the figures that came through the haze and dust. The enemy. The ones who took her Bill. Those who expected her to bleed out and die from such a sloppy explosive.


    No.


    She refused to give up. She refused to leave him behind. She bit down on the tablet, preparing for the surge she needed to fight to the end, even if her heart would bear the damage.


    ¡­But her jaw remained slack, even that being too large of a task for her cold form. She was forced to watch them draw near, unable to give so much as a snarl as they carefully encircled her, the tendrils of the Void caressing her tenderly, cooing its promises about the peace to be found in oblivion.


    She was unmoving and silent when they prodded her with their weapons, but her ire rampaged beneath the surface. The need for her other burned brightly as she faded out, multiple firearms aiming down at her form. It burned as she refused to submit, even while the Void claimed her whole and the hope of reaching him crumbled.


    Then, all fell to black.


    Yet still, it burned.


    Yet still, she struggled.

 Chapter 10

    Sunundra''s mind listed aimlessly through a thick syrup of blurred perceptions¡ªweightless, but oh so heavy. Time was a lost concept, meant for those more material than the ephemeral existence she had become. Years were but moments. Moments were an eternity. Each infinitesimal fraction was also an immeasurable landscape of possibilities. She floated upon the current of the almost stagnant waters, waves of change infrequently brushing her thoughts, though steadily becoming less as the blackness firmed its hold.


    It pushed and pulled slowly, each cycle growing weaker as pressure closed around her chest. The promise of cessation and the release of responsibility, the end of life and meaning closing in with stalwart finality.


    And then, she came back to reality. Violently.


    A jolt slammed through her entire body in the haze. An echoing crack resonated in her ears. Her bones scraped and creaked. Bitter sand crushed and dissolved in her muzzle, stinging the tender flesh with its potency as it penetrated the membrane.


    A pause. The waters of the intangible seemed to suck inwards, dragging her with it.


    A thump. Another. Stronger. Again. The waves pulled her under.


    A rhythm was established¡ªlaboured, yet steady. Water filled her lungs. Fire lit up her core.


    The pounding of a heart stressed beyond measure fired blood through her system at pressure, the stuttering, faint pulse now replaced by a symphony of cannons, loading and letting loose fluid thicker than tree sap.


    Consciousness came first. Pain followed. Then suffering.


    Roaring infernos seared her muscles from the inside. Scorching bolts of torturous lightning flared, the branching sparks tearing through her chest. Acid gnawed and bubbled through her skull. Each sensation overpowered the others until the urge to scream drew on a body that had no voice to give, and no coherence to supply.


    Another thump. Her ribs throbbed from the impact, yet she had not the chance to register why until another blow originated from inside.


    A gasp for air forced its way down her throat, tugging and pulling at her windpipe, threatening to collapse the cartilage as her lungs filled themselves with oxygen and drowned her in crimson waters. A sputtering cough yanked at her insides until she ejected the obstruction, then the contents of her stomach¡ªstale iron and digestive juices coating her tongue. The smell of bile covered the pungent odour of rot and decay.


    Skin and wounds screeched their protests as she curled into a ball. A shove with her responsive arm tipped her off the perch she had landed on amongst the piles of garbage, plunging her into a tumble down the rest of the refuse, only to crash into more muck. Every bruise and cracked bone lit up in synchrony as she hit the bottom. Her backpack flew off in the roll, landing in front of her face as her widened eyes stared into infinity. The shredded suffering paralyzed her long enough to remember.


    The running, the kind one, and then the detonation that ended both. A single moment gave her a frozen frame where shards dug into Greg''s flesh, his apologetic expression holding remorse and hope that she would succeed in the pursuit of her other. Then, unmanaged by the blur of adrenaline, she saw the expression fall flat, blood dripping from the lacerations as his kindness was repaid.


    They had found her. They tried to end it with a shoddy explosive, recklessly letting loose kinetic fire when she survived, uncaring of the slaughter they brought upon their kin. Several rounds had hit her, eventually crumpling her legs under accumulated injuries and blood loss, letting the enemy surround her, their weapons prodding her supposed corpse before the final dregs of energy left.


    She should be dead, and yet she drew breath; shaky, unsteady breath tainted by clotted ichor and the repugnance of decomposition, but breath all the same. It was still drawn by that which should not draw upon it at all. It still fuelled her beyond the pyre, dragging the abandoned soul from the Void¡¯s grasp.


    Her heart pumped a slurry of thickened blood, each stroke forcing the life-giving mud through strained veins. The painkillers had faded, leaving the suppressed agony to return with a vengeance. Her tongue was coated with the bitter remains of overindulgence and overreliance on stimulant tablets, the swelling of her jaw hinting at the fall being what crushed the final two doses she had stored between her teeth. That would be enough to condemn her to be frail and weakened as her organs were overtaxed by stupidity, yet the shock had been enough to tear her from the Void before it could truly claim her. She could still feel the constricting tendrils languidly toying with her soul before losing their prey.


    Somehow, she survived¡­


    She didn¡¯t deserve to.


    She had hesitated. Even while being so close to her goal, the failure of a female had gotten so distracted by a yearning for kindness and good that it struck her apt to reward such when it was found, regardless of if she was in a position to do so. Greg paid the price for her mistake. He might have lived if she had simply fled the moment she had the means to proceed. She should have left him behind without a moment''s consideration¡­


    But she didn''t¡­and now here she was in a dank, putrid pit as little more than a discarded cadaver, tossed out like the trash she always was. Alone. The dim lights of a platform far above her taunted the crumpled form down below. It mocked her stupidity and stubborn clinging to hope. It threatened to cast her off again. She wouldn¡¯t survive a second fall.


    ____ ___


    Even the voices had returned to warping white noise. They combated the shock for prominence, clawing for attention and tearing chunks out of her psyche. It was only a matter of time until her system shook off the overstimulation and submerged her in personal damnation. There were only a fleeting few moments of clarity left before everything resumed, the pain intensifying. She would writhe and suffer, welcoming back the blackness as it came to relieve her of obligations to the material, the Mother seeing fit to give the pathetic kit yet one more opportunity to regret what might have been. To beg and plead for forgiveness.


    The open pouch of her bag came into view, its contents expended, save for the linkage of a few firecrackers which had survived the events. The red paper stood out amongst the deluge of monochromatic entropy¡ªher reminder that even when lost, she was not forgotten. That she had not forgotten him, the other who drove a cornered soul into action.


    Find him.


    She had already tried. She had tried and was subsequently gunned down after getting so close to her desire. A few turns and an elevator were all that stood between her and Bill. Between her and a future worth living in. She had nothing now.


    Again.


    HOW!? How was she supposed to accomplish anything? She had no weapons, no tools, no materials, and no ability to flee if they tracked her down once more. The best she could hope for was to limp along until the drugs wore off. She would either bleed out or her heart would simply give up after pumping sludge for too long. There was no middle ground.


    Den. Mend. Resupply. Resume. Find him.


    Assuming they had not circumvented her defences yet, yes, but there wasn¡¯t much to go back for. The remains of her possessions were rations, patches, and¡ª


    ¡ªDemolition. Embrace.


    ¡­The last of her more dangerous creations. Weapons that would tear the complex asunder¡­yet were left behind due to their excessive power. What use were they if Bill was harmed in the process? How could she implement explosives that required razor-thin precision to utilize?


    For him.


    ¡­Why? Why did being away from him hurt more than her wounds ever could? Why did she feel so hollow, the embrace of the Void almost welcoming in comparison? Why did it feel like a part so critical had been torn from her soul, leaving only the bleeding mass in its place? Why had she been so ready to take life after a career of trying her best to prevent needless slaughter?


    What was that strange alien to make her feel so happy?


    ___ ____


    What was he, for a life of grey misery to finally gain joyous colour?


    ___ __nd


    What drove her to madness once he was removed from her touch?


    _er __nd


    Why did it feel so right?


    She rejects.


    She knew the answer, didn¡¯t she? Something so fundamental to her very being had been encountered, completing an existence that had been destined to fade away like so many like it, unloved and unfulfilled. It was never supposed to happen. It couldn¡¯t¡­ Yet it did¡ªa heretical occurrence that brought the church¡¯s teachings into question.


    A defect had been given the gift, found within a human instead of one of her own. It was withheld from her the moment that she could begin to thaw the ice of rejection.


    Despite ageless tomes of documented knowledge, the Hunt Mother¡¯s unloved had merely been crafted for another, their purpose unknown and detested throughout history as a consequence. Yet she had been born to find what others thought was never meant for her kind. She had endured far too much, driven so far away, and then found it within one who was so different. It was held over her head, taunting her with every breath absent of its influence¡ªthe one thing that meant more than anything else.


    Her bond.


    The pale-furred female suffered her wounds, air building in her lungs as a primal force begged to be used.


    For the pain that wracked her form, she used it to scream her agony. For something that she should never have achieved, yet received despite all odds, she shouted her elation. For the frustration of being so close to reclaiming it, only to fail due to her fragile heart, she roared her ire.


    Many things tried to be voiced in one utterance, but the resulting sound was a keening of sorrow and loneliness. The cry of a kit lying broken and bled amongst the detritus. It was the haggard weep that slipped against gritting teeth as she persisted through injuries to her feet, grabbing her bag and limping towards the edges of the disposal room. It was the hitching sob as she picked herself back up after falling again and again, each tumble agitating her injuries more and more.


    It was a determined yell echoing through the chamber as she drove claws into her stomach, pulling free the odd terminal from her wound and slapping it onto the access panel.


    It was the growl of an ironclad will and bitter malice when a maintenance tunnel made itself known.


    Sunundra pulled the map from her breast pocket, the splintered screen offering a distorted image, but still allowing enough information for rudimentary navigation.


    She trudged into the depths with lurching steps, scraping her shoulder along the walls for support.


    Find him. Tear them asunder. Claim what was hers.


    A manic smile spread across her muzzle as she dragged blood through the tunnels. They thought her dead.


    It would be their last mistake.


    - - - - -


    The maintenance tunnel opened back into the hallway, winding and elevating to accommodate the various repair requirements and utilities provided to the complex, forcing her to traverse ladders and inclines. Each junction of multi-species viability somehow managed to strike the fulcrum between beneficially designed and maliciously compliant¡ªa torturous exercise in learning just how damaged she had become.


    The map told her that she was near the temporary den, but she had come into the corridor from a side that she had yet to see, so the lack of visual markers provided little confidence. Not that she had much hope in gleaning her location from featureless walls, anyway. Still, she progressed, blood starting to seep out of the wounds scattered across her body as it dissolved the coagulant. She was on borrowed time.


    Progress was slow, the walls now sporting red streaks from cuts being rubbed raw against them, her leg refusing to support her weight. Her destination came into view sooner than expected, but that was a welcome divergence. How long had she been walking? Did she climb three ladders, or four? Did she pass out during the times she fell and just woke up before it registered? Possibly. Thinking was getting difficult.


    Her paw stopped mere fractions from the door, a scratch in the material marking it as what she was looking for. Right. Bomb. Easy fix.


    She looked down groggily at the limp arm covered in cuts and a perforated shoulder.


    Well, it would have been an easy fix, had she not been shot and caught inside the blast radius of an explosive¡­


    A wary stare at the marking on the frame accompanied the slow churn of thought that worked out how best to open the entrance without activating the explosive linked to the hinge. The initial idea was to use a weaker charge to crack the latch, open it just a hair, flick it closed, then languidly open it fully. Pull the trigger taut, detach it, and ensure that step two was completed by feel. It was such a delicate pressure that she had difficulty telling when she was in good condition, but now? She regarded the damaged limbs and likely shock-numbed sense of touch.


    ¡­Needless to say, such was not the case at the moment.


    The pale-furred female dug out the firecrackers with a grimace, her muscles hitching at the angles required. There were more inside. She could use these. It was fine. She wasn¡¯t giving up on what he saw in her. She wasn¡¯t betraying what Bill valued, nor what he said. Yet her paw shook as she pressed the small cylinders into place, not entirely due to fatigue. It felt like she was killing a piece of herself as she friction-lit the fuse.


    The recreational explosives let out a series of cracks, the door¡¯s latch getting forced out of alignment. She hooked a claw in the seam and pulled the slightest amount, a whisper leaving her lips when her paws were too numb to feel the resistance.


    ¡°Boom.¡±


    It was small, but the memory of her other shouting with adolescent glee at the simple devices detonating with such paltry volume warmed the cold within. She hadn¡¯t killed. She hadn¡¯t used it with the intent to bring harm. Though for utility, she had likely used more than strictly required. It was a whim, no matter how clouded the source. It was something he would find interesting or exciting.


    She hadn¡¯t lost herself yet. She was still Sunundra. She was still his Sunshine.


    The defect drew a deep breath, ignoring the pain in her chest.


    Pull. Push. Drag¡­ Nothing. It worked.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    She slipped into the den, a subconscious sniff turning up nothing but the scent of decomposition as she re-engaged the trap. Her eyes flicked to the staff member she had left behind, bile crawling up her throat at the sight. She bit back the urge to vomit, stumbling to her room to grab whatever medications she didn¡¯t take during her first attempt: a package of pain patches, another coagulant, and some stimulants. There were some miscellaneous items as well, but she couldn¡¯t muster the cognizance to remember what they were for. She stuck a patch to her tongue, deciding that cardiac arrest was too likely for either of the other options, then hobbled her way to the kitchen, pointedly ignoring the evidence of what she had done.


    The stove turned on with a click, and a metal knife laid on the heating element while she disrobed. Her top fell easily enough, but peeling her pants off of the matted fur was a difficult and painful process, the fabric tugging and pulling open the holes left by kinetic fire. Blood spilled from the wounds like a thickened slop¡ªthinner than it was before, but that only spoke of the urgency required.


    She grabbed the blade once it began glowing a deep red, stuffing the discarded shirt into her muzzle to bite down, ignoring the taste of copper and garbage. Heated metal hovered just above the hole in her calf, her teeth gritting against the fabric on her tongue.


    A sharp inhale was taken. The flesh sizzled. Her cry came muffled through the shirt.


    Sunundra crashed back against the floor, tears building in her eyes as the smell of singed fur and burning skin filled the air. The knife had turned a sickly grey, blackened where blood had scorched onto the surface. She shakily put it back on the stove, whimpering and struggling to keep her arm still when she reached for it again.


    There were so many wounds that needed to be cauterized, so many lacerations that would bleed her dry if left untended, yet her paw trembled before she could treat more. Stuttered breaths were forced steady. She closed her eyes.


    The stifled whining resumed, followed by a clatter as she vocalized her agony. Again. There were still more. She would bleed out if she stopped now. She would fail. She would leave him.


    A clink on the stove. Hyperventilation. Shaking made lining up the glowing red difficult. The hiss broke her silence once more. Muted howls of pain reverberated off the walls.


    Again.


    The screams turned to dulled grunts as the pain became too much, her mind shutting it down lest it do the same to her. Endorphins blocked the sensations, only a single determination piercing the veil.


    More.


    Keep going. She must find him. She must rectify her folly. The boiling blood was but weakness burning away. Mend and prepare.


    The knife hovered over another hole, a soft hiccup preceding the strangled whine of suffering, yet she smiled. Another one sealed. Another step closer.


    By the end of it, she was a mess of pained tears and saliva, the wound in her shoulder burned shut before the blackened implement fell to the kitchen floor. She wanted to curl up and wallow in misery, but she couldn¡¯t waste time. She needed to keep going. She needed to reach him.


    Yet the gash in her stomach remained as it was¡ªthe blood stymied, but the wound left open. It held the small terminal that the kind one had gifted her. She couldn¡¯t afford to lose it. A morbid and macabre pocket that none would search. Come explosive or shredding claws, it would remain.


    And if it didn''t¡­ Well, she would hardly be in a state for it to matter.


    - - - - -


    The strips of cloth around her seared flesh chafed, but it kept the wounds closed and gave some much-needed rigidity to her otherwise weakened limbs, so she tolerated the discomfort. She bit down on the fabric as she tugged the last knot taut, gaining some range of motion back in her shoulder, though not as much as she would have liked.


    New clothing had been donned, her remaining supplies stored, and even her most volatile explosives now occupied space in her bag¡ªthis time, adding the basic compounds where space allowed. She hesitated when she reached for the aerial drone made for Recon, the warning about expecting to find someone who would care for her echoing in the recesses of her mind.


    Ignorant.


    The voices snarled at the foolishness. At her. They growled in disgust at her ignoring her bond. It was wrong. Recon was wrong. She had experienced kindness. She had met one who cared. She had found her reason for living. The male had been but one of many who knew not the Hunt Mother¡¯s plans, nor the defect¡¯s place within it. Sunundra was created for something more. She had tasted it.


    Now she would consume it. It would consume her. It would be right, and it would be the only thing to which she surrendered.


    The drone was tossed in with the rest, a rudimentary remote hastily crafted with spare electronics. It wouldn¡¯t be some purpose-built device, but it would allow her to use it offensively, if in a limited capacity. The lack of a screen meant that the recording and video transmission features were moot, but she might be able to retrofit something should the materials become available. The late addition signified that there was no further reason to stay, save for quickly eating the rations that crumbled like tasteless dust. Unpleasant, but she doubted even a luxurious meal would be much better at the moment.


    She referenced the map, an examination of its intricacies suggesting something of a security office elsewhere on the floor¡ªa boon to utilize, if true. The pathways there had largely been collapsed by her earlier venture, but the tunnels should still be quite usable. As long as she kept up on the pain management, she might be able to reach it somewhat quickly, and there may be other elevators which were accessible in the region. All she had to do then was get to the fourth floor and check where the hangars that Greg mentioned were¡ª


    A deafening explosion blew her door open, her paws grabbing for her charges before she recognized the smell of familiar chemicals and the stringent odour of flash-boiled flesh.


    They came. They perished.


    But how many?


    Remove.


    It hardly mattered. She needed to leave. They were in the way.


    - - - - -


    Four. That was the number of corpses thrown across the hallway, much of their anatomy now unidentifiable between the explosive trap and the mutilated armour they wore. Based on how far the weapons were tossed, she doubted they had come specifically for her. Especially since two of them seemed more equipped for disposal of what she had left behind, rather than to confront the defect which brought the need.


    She almost started on her trip in haste, eager to get into the tighter confines of the maintenance tunnels and stray from known collapse, but the voices stopped her, drawing her eyes back to the newly created deceased.


    Integrate.


    Some of their items were in functional states, and the ablative plating that one sported was mostly unblemished, shrapnel ending its life where armour failed to cover. Her paws searched through the remnants of pockets, but when nothing particularly promising was found, she settled for tearing off a pad or two where the material would rip. Affixing it to cover her vitals was difficult, though worth the effort; it further supported her injured limbs, giving back some degree of utility. Her chest, leg, both arms, and the small of her back were covered, allowing some defensive capability.


    The weapons were another matter, however. A kinetic pistol proved operational despite the blast, though it was unknown how many shots she''d have, or how effective it would be against the plating they would likely use. Regardless, it was strapped to her form all the same. Anything was better than just blowing the vicinity to rubble at the slightest provocation, and with the narrow pathways she was about to traverse, it was much more effective to save her explosives for strategic use.


    So she left the den behind, electing not to set a charge on the casualties in fear that it would alert the rest of her survival. A could have been set in the den at any point, but that? That could only have been done recently. She needed to keep any element of surprise that she could.


    The corridors remained grey, bland, and featureless, but the markings on the map guided her to an embedded scanner, a grimace forming on her face as she pulled free the odd terminal from her stomach to access the hidden passageway. She winced again as she put the device away. She needed it to reach him; any discomfort was worth the trade in morbid security. Disinfectants could be applied later.


    Keep it. Find him.


    Her injury stoked hope and determination with every painful throb as she wiped the blood off the wall and listened to the entrance close behind her, a dim passage replacing the clinical. A shakily drawn breath was released as she stepped into the depths.


    - - - - -


    There were several points where the tunnels bent and jutted out awkwardly before resuming a more natural path. Gaps in the densely packed map suggested that the curious deviations were either done to accommodate colossal pillars, or to avoid pockets where construction wasn''t worth the cost of excavation. A brief analysis made her lean towards the former of the two for most of the curiosities she encountered; the dimensions and uniformity were too consistent. She attached her latest breach charge to be safe, setting each one up to work on either a massively delayed timer or a manual trigger that would be relayed in sequence before detonation.


    A single signal could spread throughout every bomb in the facility; she just needed to be close enough to one of them. She was setting up the sixth when she checked to see where to go next. Time was slipping through her grasp, it seemed. She was already there; only a few turns left to go.


    The dreary machinations of the maintenance tunnels differed suddenly when a previously unseen blast door closed behind her, preventing any regression, followed by the path forward getting a similar treatment. She was locked in. An alarmingly deep voice played over speakers she couldn''t locate.


    ¡°Ah, welcome. The cat finally joins the bull.¡± It ended on a dry, mirthless bray of a laugh, the tone turning more gentle. ¡°Hands off the explosive, please. If I intended to get in your way, they would already know you survived.¡±


    Sunundra kept stock-still, her ears twitching as her eyes scoured the hall, a paw fixed on a charge. A sigh rolled through the speaker, rumbling the floor with its presence.


    ¡°I know where your cohabitant is staying. I''m afraid the fourth level is a rather vague destination. You would die long before you reached him.¡±


    Her fur bristled as a growl all but shredded its way out. ¡°Where is Bill!?¡±


    ¡°Keep going, please,¡± it replied tiredly. ¡°As confident as I am that they''ll take some time to notice, they will discover your movements. I''ve locked the extra passages so you won''t get lost. Just follow the tunnels.¡±


    It lies. It prevents.


    ¡°If I were to simply breach the barrier?¡± she prodded, gesturing with her good paw and the explosive gripped in the other.


    ¡°Then you would announce your survival to the very people holding him, and my repentance would end before it even started.¡±


    She glared at every corner and wire, hoping to find a recording device to more accurately direct her vitriol, but nothing stood out. ¡°Repentance?¡±


    A longer pause prefaced the surprisingly soft cadence. ¡°Indeed. Though, I believe you will need to see why before accepting my words.¡±


    ¡°Tell me where he is.¡±


    ¡°Soon,¡± it assured. ¡°First, I need you to see something, but I doubt you''ll be any more inclined to trust me.¡±


    Her claws gripped the explosive as more soft thunks told of barricades down the tunnel closing. ¡°Why would I heed your words?¡±


    A sardonic tint coloured its voice. ¡°Because I was the security member tasked with overseeing your room, the one who advised separation of you and your friend¡­and the one who sent the guards to the depot.¡±


    It brought death to the kind one. It took her bond.


    ¡°And you expect me to obey!?¡± she roared, blood staining her tongue from the sheer volume.


    ¡°¡­No. I hope to make good on the attempts my friend made to help you.¡±


    ¡°You will die by my paw,¡± she stated simply, her arms going limp. There was no poetic declaration of malice, only a promise. The alien had stripped away what made her whole, then claimed the kindness of another for itself?


    ¡°With the charges you''ve laid, I¡¯m counting on it,¡± it agreed airily. ¡°Though, you missed some more hidden pillars. Come on. I''ll update your map when you get here. If this place is getting¡­¡®blown to hell¡¯ I believe the saying goes, then we should be thorough.¡±


    The barrier blocking the way forward released, sliding back into the walls silently.


    ¡°You seek your end?¡± she asked blankly.


    ¡°I¡­grow tired of this,¡± it admitted slowly. ¡°I grow tired of pretending all of this is necessary. If death is what brings everything else to an end, then yes, I accept it.¡±


    She leered down the tunnel before taking an unsteady step. ¡°Then explain.¡±


    ¡°¡­I will. It''s not far.¡±


    - - - - -


    She reached an eerily closed-off room, the thick metal doors parting for her entrance. Again, she hesitated, the alien explaining that she needed to be inside to see what was so important.


    Why would she listen? It admitted to getting between her and Bill. It admitted to sending those who had killed the kind one and tried to kill her. It was an enemy, yet the voices were oddly silent. Unsure. Eventually, she acquiesced, flinching when the doors closed behind her.


    ¡°They will open again,¡± the alien informed, its deep voice vibrating her feet as the sound reflected off the floor. A screen embedded in the wall flicked to life. ¡°But first, you must know what exactly the Union has been doing.¡±


    ¡°Taking from us?¡± she spat, eyeing seams and support columns as she weighed her choice in explosives.


    ¡°Studying,¡± it countered softly. ¡°From your culture to your biology, from social tendencies to your taboos.¡±


    ¡°Such is what they claimed,¡± she pointed out, settling on the multi-stage breach charge she had finished with Bill''s suggestions.


    ¡°And it was just that.¡± The alien paused. ¡°Until the last batch of testing with humans¡­¡±


    A recording of a temporary den filled the wall, furniture shifted from its perfectly aligned position by lackadaisical use. Possessions occupied the shelving, and plates of food laid on the tables. A Lilhun and a human were depicted laughing on the couch, the latter lying across the former''s lap as they exchanged stories of youth, a gleam of affection in both of their eyes. Care was had, and it was shared freely, plans of meeting each other¡¯s dens were traded and future friendships suggested. They were together and happier for it, two souls meeting their other where least expected, so many worlds apart.


    Or rather, they were¡­


    The screen changed to show the den destroyed. Tables and chairs had been tossed and broken, plates and cups littered the floor as nothing but shards of glass and cracked metal. The doors were ripped off the hinges, only one still barely hanging on by a single pin. The lights flickered and buzzed sporadically, a circuit having been damaged by violence. A mere glimpse of the bedrooms told much the same story¡ªclothing and possessions lying carelessly strewn across the floor. She looked at anything that wasn¡¯t what drew her eyes, yet that failed to stop the thing begging for attention. The visage of misery, the end of affection¡­


    ¡­Of the human female skewered to the wall across from a Lilhun male, the latter strapped to a chair, one arm hanging limp after being torn from its bindings.


    Lacerations marred the flesh of the human female, regular in size and purposefully placed. The deceased male had been frozen mid-cry, the dead eyes immortalizing fear and helplessness, his limbs mutilated from possible hours spent trying to escape.


    The defective¡¯s heart thumped. Then again. Another, each subsequent hammer in her chest driving blackened wrath through her veins, more caustic than any of her creations. This was practised. This was procedural. This was¡­


    Torture¡­ They had both been tortured. One was subjected to pain and suffering, while the other sacrificed all they could in an attempt to stop it.


    The male¡¯s unbound arm was broken above the wrist, welted and flayed from wrenching against the straps. Gouges told of it being pulled free before he attempted to use the crippled limb to release the rest. He had clawed and struggled, but the result was clear; the digits had been rendered useless, leaving him with naught but an illusion that he could have done something. That he could have saved the female.


    There wasn¡¯t a single doubt in the defect¡¯s mind that this male had done such damage to himself for the human¡¯s sake. Even now¡ªhis form limp and lifeless¡ªhis gaze remained fixed on her, an expression of despair and apology etched into his visage for eternity. He had spent his last moments begging for forgiveness, lamenting his weakness when he was needed. He had prayed for the Hunt Mother to accept the alien female as her own, to shelter the strange soul from the Void.


    Like she had for Bill.


    Anything.


    She knew he would have done anything to prevent this. The male had nothing left to give, yet he had broken limbs and shredded flesh to try anyway. He did it for something as much a part of him as his very soul¡­


    No. He did it because the female was one with his soul. Connected.


    His bond was broken.


    Her blood was viscous, the thick substance felt across every part of her form as it crawled through her capillaries. The static buzz in her ears ceased. The voices resumed¡ªcalm and quiet. They knew she was listening, even as her paws shook and her fur bristled.


    Sin.


    The Union had sinned against her people.


    Taken.


    They had stolen a gift. Shattered it. They had spurned the Mother.


    Retribution.


    They brazenly provoked the Mother¡¯s ire. They assumed themselves above requital.


    Clarity muted the remnants of pain and stiffness more than any medicine she had access to. The Union did this, and they had a method for it. There was no circumstance where a Lilhun would have this happen, their only wounds being self-inflicted. This was practised. Repeated.


    They will do it again.


    How many? How many times had they ravaged something she would have given everything to have? How many have had it ripped from their paws, tearing life and meaning with it?


    They will do it to him.


    The screen changed, showing another pairing holding each other close, far more intimately than mere companions.


    But it was the same as the first.


    The screen changed. Another grisly scene seared into her eyes.


    Then again. Souls torn from form, leaving nothing but regret and sorrow in their wake.


    Again. Time blurred and circled meaninglessly, only the moments of joy contrasting the macabre staying in memory. A beaten human across from a female Lilhun, her tendons severed to render her still as she watched the light fade from her other. A male riddled with holes after escaping his confines, executed before he could save the one he needed to survive. A male lying bifurcated after he had overpowered their captors, their bond holding the departed before being sent after them.


    Recording after recording, pairing after pairing, she was shown what the Union had been doing. She witnessed the vile scenes that were left to degrade and decay as files, never known about by her people. They couldn¡¯t have known; this was an affront to everything her people believed in.


    Another video played out in front of Sunundra. A female of both species sat strapped to their chairs at a table, a spent canister resting between them. No injuries or the like were visible, and the den had been spared of any destruction. It should have been promising, but something felt wrong. She eyed the device on the table, vents along the top for gas to escape.


    A poison? Paralytic? Both? Whatever it was, it worked. There were no wounds from the bindings because they were robbed of movement, trapped within their bodies. They had been left to fade while watching the light of their other dim¡ªa distress marring the Lilhun¡¯s visage, and a sympathetic sorrow on the human¡¯s.


    She could only picture Bill in the same position, sitting across from her as what she had grown to cherish more than life itself was tortuously torn from her, taking every piece that kept her breathing with it. Her mind conjured the kindness and affection in his eyes when he looked at her, a well of love and care stirring in her chest.


    Was this what the human on the screen felt for the Lilhun across from them? Had they taken each other as mates and the furless one tried to reassure their other, even as their body failed them? Was it an attempt to offer solace when faced with such vivid despair? Were all the Lilhun who perished here bonded, only to have their gifts sullied? Was it the gouging of heart and soul that proved so interesting? The death of one who had their other removed?


    Would Bill face the same fate because of her?


    Her thoughts came to a stop.


    They will break him.


    The response was automatic, a growl crawling out like metal shavings cutting her throat. ¡°No.¡±


    Then find him.


    She swallowed back the bile, closing her eyes to banish the recordings of broken bonds. Prayer slipped out from her lips as a whisper.


    ¡°O¡¯Mother of this soul, your faithful asks of you to give safe passage to the weary kits who have been cast into your domain, for they had been wronged by another. They have had their boons removed by those who intend no recompense, yet fought valiantly against impossible forces to the bitter end. She asks you to be proud of your offspring who have returned, for she knows you will find few more deserving.¡±


    ¡°Your Goddess has little power here, I¡¯m afraid,¡± the alien intoned weakly, the grim display changing to an arrow pointing towards a recess in the wall. ¡°Place both your terminals here. I¡¯ll update your map and clearances. You¡¯ll have a direct map to him and blueprints to the facility.¡±


    She did as asked, a righteous fury keeping her expression from flinching as the wet suction sounded out from her stomach, the bloodied terminals slapping on the surface. ¡°The Mother¡¯s influence extends past that which you can fathom.¡±


    The alien grunted neutrally before a small elevator absconded with the devices, followed by soft clicking sounds picked up by whatever microphone it used. ¡°These will be ready in a moment. I¡¯m including everything we have on the project, as well as anything else I can think to add.¡±


    Sunundra nodded, struggling to keep herself composed. Her eyes drifted back to the screen to see it mirroring a strange operating system¡ªlikely what the alien was currently doing. Without knowledge of the glyphs, she could only guess as to what was specifically happening, but she watched as images and progress bars flickered by, blueprints and files appearing in their new destination.


    ¡°Why?¡± came the desperate curiosity from her lips. ¡°Why betray your pack after all you have tolerated?¡±


    The clicks and clacks ceased, the screen displaying a picture of a rather bovine biped holding the shoulder of a familiar human. An infant of the new strange species rested in Greg¡¯s arms, a broad smile spread across his face. The alien¡¯s tone grew bitter.


    ¡°Because I had found a brother¡­and because I have turned a blind eye for too long. They killed him, ignoring my warning of how close he was to you and my begging for them to wait... I killed my family¡­my herd¡¯s first trusted¡­but at least I mourn the loss.¡±


    The voices stilled. ¡°Even so, you will be cast to the Void by my paw.¡±


    A muted scoff of self-deprecation punctuated the image closing and the small elevator returning her items. The doors to the room opened. ¡°I know. Go, cat. I¡¯ll keep them off your trail as long as I can.¡±


    She took back the terminals, pausing as she crossed the threshold back to the tunnels. ¡°I pray your end is swift.¡±


    The barrier reestablished itself behind her, the alien¡¯s tone dark. ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    The speakers clicked to mark their future silence. She referenced the new map and plotted the path she needed to take, as well as the newly highlighted structural supports she had to rig a charge to. She shrugged the weight of her bag; she had enough.


    ¡°Good,¡± she whispered to the empty corridor as she took the first step. ¡°None of you deserve it.¡±

 Chapter 11

    More. Demolish. Remove.


    Sunundra had lost track of how far she walked and how many charges were placed. The need to reunite with her other had been matched by an acidic desire to ensure nothing in the complex survived to place him in danger, so she followed it rightly. Still, the caustic voices ate at reason and thought beyond cold mechanical execution. No twisted promises, no more practised torture, and not a single soul left within the smoking crater of cinder and ash this place would be once she was finished.


    Nothing.


    If that meant trudging her crippled form through dark hallways and taking down every inch of this complex bomb by blessed bomb, then she would ensure that not a single room would be left whole. She and he alone would stand upon the rubble to bathe in the glow of the Mother¡¯s pride. Then¡ªand only then¡ªwould all be right again. She would have him. He would have her. Purpose and future, as it should be.


    It was with that goal in mind that she moved to the next pillar for the region, the voices reaffirming her decision with their fervent chanting which warped, echoed, and bent her perceptions. She exited the maintenance tunnels every so often, placing proximity charges where the updated map suggested foot traffic would surge during emergencies, setting them to only detonate after a certain threshold. Since they wouldn¡¯t go off for anything mundane, she knew that when she was finally discovered, they would learn why it was a mistake not to confirm their kill.


    Even a blunted claw could pierce the flesh if pressed too far. They had driven hers into their throats in a shameless display of arrogance, assuming her too weakened to act against them. She could almost feel the pliant flesh of a predator which thought her mere prey. The urge to crush and rip roiled her blood.


    Soon.


    Her terminals had received a substantial upgrade in functionality due to the assistance of the kin-slaying security officer. The navigational unit now offered so many filters and options that she needed to turn most of them off just to parse the data, while the odd wrist-mounted device had been paired to her translator and the first terminal. The end result lacked some wondrous ability for her to instantly understand any written languages or magically allow her to speak in foreign tongues, but she could read the map now, and it saved her a lot of backtracking. Making her way through the corridors and knowing her location eliminated most of the guesswork. It also came with the added benefit of telling her which floor she had been exploring for¡­


    She didn¡¯t actually know how many suns had passed. She had stopped trying to hold onto the fading sense of time shortly after he had left, and the rest had followed. With no sun or moonlight to orient herself, and no supplementary systems in place, it was entirely possible that she had started dragging herself through multiple suns of unceasing activity, and only now found reason to wonder. How long had she been awake? How long had she been presumed dead before being tossed off that platform? All she really knew was that since she caught the traces of her bond¡¯s scent, she had been moving.


    Has it been one sun since she first drew blood? More?


    She shook her head to delay the query and dislodge the mental fog. With a single level resting between her and Bill, there were more urgent things to think about. Get off the sixth floor, get through the fifth, then find him on the fourth. Just like the map detailed.


    Well, ¡®detailed¡¯ was certainly an appropriate word.


    The consequence of such a thorough map was that the more traditionally-shaped terminal frequently threw up warnings about an internal data limit¡ªsomething she assumed would have long since been addressed by someone in the Union by now. Though she supposed local storage only went so far, no matter the number of species to iterate on the designs. Either way, all she knew for sure was that it had been slowing things down whenever she needed to load a new segment of the map, so transferring the contents to another device was something she needed to think about.


    Deleting some troublesome data to free up resources wasn¡¯t an option for two reasons; one, it was all stored in one heavily compressed packet. And two¡­?


    She had shed blood, sweat, and tears to get her paws on this. It would not be left behind.


    Her bag thumped against the ground, the mixture of explosives, compounds, and assorted extras taking an additional moment to settle. Warmth pooled into her cooled limb, the lessened weight letting blood flow return to a burdened leg. She fetched a charge while referencing the terminal and confirming the location. As many as she had made of the overzealous items, there was still a limited quantity of them, which meant that she needed to spend the brief calibration period preparing components so that she could put more together as needed.


    Another relay module joined the pile in a side pocket just as the charge let out a soft beep to confirm the completion of its arming. She double-checked the orientation to make sure that it followed suit with the others in the region and shouldered her backpack, glancing at the map to see where the next pillar lay.


    A frown crossed her muzzle when she noticed that anything farther from her goal would be pointless. She wished to raze the complex and collapse it into the pit in which it was erected, not needlessly turn the crumbled aftermath to melted slag. She would have been fine with turning it into stained-glass mosaics to decorate her future den, but again, she only had so much to work with. Perhaps if she had more¡­


    A bitter taste coated her tongue. She needed to stop thinking too far ahead. Find him. Escape. Detonate the charges. Then they could spend all the time they needed to figure out what was next.


    Regardless, the traps for this coordinate were set, the demolition preparation for the floor was completed, and now she just needed to see if there was anything particularly useful left to utilize before she headed towards the freight elevators.


    She turned off the filters for the terminal, leaving it to hitch and stutter while the legend on the side filled with new glyphs and symbols, countless overlays and paths outlining at a languid pace. Finding something to transfer the files onto would be paramount, it seemed. Based on the map of the next floor¡ªor, what she could see before the terminal slowed to a crawl, anyway¡ªsome guidance would be needed for traversal. Getting that on a device which required the time it took to walk from point to point before it could provide anything useful was a risky affair at best. The last thing she wanted was an emergency to arise and her only navigational tool to be stuck loading previous directions.


    The pale-furred female slipped a ration bar and some water out from a pouch on the bag''s straps, resting her weight against a wall and choking down the tasteless mixture while weighing her options going forward.


    True, the alien might have loaded her devices with tracking software, but given how it had apparently led the guards straight to the depot, they had surveillance enough for such to hardly matter. Even so, she had been able to fool them with some carefully placed decoys. It bode well for her in the long run, since it suggested that while she might not know what to look for when spotting video transmission devices, they couldn¡¯t differentiate live explosives from inert either. She could save some supplies by just assembling empty shells and putting them in ¡®hidden¡¯ locations to discourage use of certain passages, then actually hide something more effective elsewhere. It was a solution to a problem she wasn¡¯t sure existed, but it would be wise to accommodate for it.


    She tucked away the leftover brick of sustenance and swirled a bit of water in her muzzle to dispel the taste, spitting out a pinkish hue. It didn¡¯t warrant further consideration; blood was getting involved in everything she did by now. She just crunched down on another stimulant tablet to dispel the weight of her eyelids and checked the terminal.


    The map had finally loaded the full spectrum of overlays on top of the region; each assorted colour of lines and shading revealed new information that the basic display would never cater towards. The synchronized language libraries let her differentiate delivery routes, maintenance schedules, foot traffic density, sanitization regularity, and anything else one could possibly want to know.


    Unfortunately, it also turned the screen into a deluge of information. She hid a few of the more esoteric options in favour of actually being able to see what she was looking at, but eventually she had a fairly solid array of filters at her disposal. The most important ones revolved around where others would likely be occupying the path she intended to take¡ªsecurity patrols, logistics, and other miscellaneous things.


    Her cold stare deepened into a scowl. The elevators that would¡¯ve taken her up to the fourth level were hotbeds of activity¡ªwhich was understandable, yet still aggravating. That only really left the freight elevators scattered around, though they weren¡¯t much better. They were limited to connecting two floors, but although she would need to ascend one level at a time, doing so came with much less risk of security or witnesses. A problem solvable with the proper explosive, true, but a wasteful use of stealth.


    She rubbed the gnawing fatigue out of her eyes, resisting the urge to stop her own heart by abusing more stimulants. Sleep was squandered time that could be spent progressing. Time that could be the difference between taking the complex down and escaping with her bond¡­or losing him¡­


    The defect gave the map one last look, plotting the way forward before tucking it away. Her stomach wound throbbed.


    - - - - -


    The sounds of speech faded enough for Sunundra to risk cracking open the door of the maintenance tunnel. She peered around the corner to confirm, then made a silent exit into the hallway, the wall sealing seamlessly behind her. The din of heavy machinery and bone-shaking bangs of cargo being unloaded drowned out the hiss she released as her paw tugged free of her morbid pocket, the odd terminal now safely stored once again.


    Each floor appeared to have its own version of a logistics bay, where surplus materials would be ferried off to wherever it was needed for use or storage in a depot. The corridors operating as the main route in the area were markedly larger than anywhere else, accommodating transport vehicles and frequently populated by workers. Whatever schedule they operated on didn¡¯t correlate to anything she could glean from her navigation terminal, but it did list the area as ¡®light use.¡¯


    If well over two hundred aliens, several massive machines, countless drones, and enough random freight to supply a Lilhun regional military base was ¡®light,¡¯ then she was well within the realm of good judgment to avoid anything more.


    Her pace had slowed while nearing her objective, the ventures to place proximity mines lessening as foot traffic became commonplace in the corridors and opportunities dwindled. What was once endless expanses of empty hallways and silent junctions became processions of people and the distant noise of cargo vehicles. Every door she approached on the way to her current location had more and more activity happening on the other side, until she finally found one that seemed relatively quiet. It gave her the chance to finally exit the maintenance tunnels, because as expansive as they were, they were also restricted to the level in which they were constructed.


    Of course, that also meant that she was now in the open and could be found by the¡ª


    Enemy. Remove.


    The only positive part of the situation was that every worker seemed to be using devices like her translator to communicate amongst themselves while blocking out the surrounding sounds. It was no small boon to be able to move around without worrying too much about her weakened leg, and with everyone focused on their tasks, she had some degree of freedom in regard to approaching the problem.


    ¡­And she didn¡¯t need to wrestle the scalding blood or tightened muscles that drove the claws of her feet into the metal floor, each contraction of her limbs barely resisting the urges that screamed at her.


    Remove. They will prevent. They will harm.


    Her ear flicked at the ephemeral volume of the voices, though she doubted anything besides dropping an unrestrained thumper amidst the aliens would quench the desires. No, this wasn¡¯t the time. Any careless actions would alert the complex before it was strictly necessary, and then she would have a much harder time reaching him. Take the elevator, make her way through the fifth level, find another elevator, then find Bill.


    Which raised the issue of actually using the freight elevator.


    Large machines lifted and loaded dense pallets of material on and off of a platform, which then receded into a massive chamber in the wall and closed itself off, reappearing some time later for the next cycle. Workers inspected and confirmed that the automated systems were operating correctly, occasionally intervening when cargo didn¡¯t meet some specification and either adjusting it or beckoning someone else to address the issue. Drones rode along their tracks and constantly delivered items or crates, while staff operated more as an error correction and supervisor for the whole process. Occasionally, something required a slightly more delicate touch in a particular way, prompting one of the menagerie to get physically involved. Those moments were rare, but drew a crowd of mildly interested others.


    Sunundra eased back from the corner she had been watching from, listening out for anything that might necessitate a sudden reentrance into the maintenance tunnels, while she considered how to get onto the elevator without being seen.


    Barring simply walking up and asking, she needed to observe the goings-on and determine how she was going to distract everyone long enough to board. A possible method made itself known quickly enough.


    The stuttered squeak of a drone coming through the passage gave her just enough time to tuck away out of sight¡ªa difficult task, but one which was thankfully facilitated by the crates set aside for later loading. It only took a few moments once she was situated in shade for the source of the noise to lazily drift by, the oddly malformed frame differentiating itself from others like it. She watched as the workers eyed the new addition, inspected its holdings, then left the damaged unit to continue on its way. It was a mundane example of faulty maintenance, except for the sparks occurring on a set interval, which no one seemed to notice. Or, if they did, then they failed to care.


    She did. She could smell the residue of various compounds originating from the drone¡¯s boxy storage. Compounds that she was quite familiar with. An inkling of a plan began forming, waiting for confirmation before she committed to it.


    - - - - -


    She watched the damaged drone travel back and forth countless times, but it was worth it for the certainty. The drone would carry an assortment to be loaded up, but every haul included containers that had a corrosive substance eating through the material. She only needed to see the workers dismiss a leaking canister once to know she had a way in.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    The chemicals in question were a powder assumed to be uniquely available on Iras and commonly used as a paralytic, but when it was stored without proper measures in place, it would absorb moisture and eventually liquify. Additionally, it becomes self-reactive if left for too long¡ªand a staple addition to her standard low-destruction charges. That said, the new effects hardly mattered when it was stored inside a metal container.


    All in all, it was a fairly safe compound that often used to sit around in storage when pharmaceutical companies went out of business and nobody bothered emptying the warehouses before locking them up.


    What she was counting on was the other property that the compound acquired, and why new storage regulations were put in place to prevent it from being ignored for frankly negligent amounts of time¡­


    ¡­Several years, for instance.


    It became violently flammable, and the smoke was more than enough to cause a city-wide lockdown, straining filtration systems in a colossal area. Assuming it was gifted during the initial steps of their people''s meeting, they would have been warned in numerous formats not to leave it in some random backroom, yet that had obviously been ignored¡ªor they simply replicated it out of curiosity or for testing purposes.


    The voices murmured appreciatively at the irony of the first possibility, and enjoyed the subtle comeuppance of the second. Either a gift that the Union had received during first contact would be the catalyst for their final contact, or their hubris would be their downfall. Regardless, all she needed to do was give the disaster-in-waiting a little push.


    It took a few more trips, but the opportunity made itself available when none of the workers were looking. The drone clunked and rattled as it passed by, a flicker of a spark leaving behind the scent of ozone. Sunundra slipped from the shadows and placed a weakened burner charge to one of the eroded canisters, igniting it before she moved up with the cargo and took cover. She was so close to the aliens that she needed to distract herself from the foreign scents by fixating on the smell of actively oxidizing metal. The last she saw of the drone before it went out of view was the slight trickle of slurry and the melting remains of her charge. The damaged wiring sparked again, but was quickly swallowed by the compound. Her legs tensed as the moments ticked by.


    A curious voice called out, summoning several others as a short crane finished loading the sliding platform of the freight elevator. More turned to see what the issue was, quickly turning the single voice into twelve, and three curious spectators into fifty. It hurt from how hard she was focusing and straining to listen. When the almost imperceptible hiss built up beneath the din, she put all her weight on her good leg and drove her claws into a crate for stability. Her ears folded back, her eyes closing in preparation. The smell of chemicals turned foul, then into a scent that she had only needed to be exposed to once before never wanting to be exposed to it again.


    The odour of a lethally caustic smoke¡­and of the compound reaching its flash-point. The ignition was instantaneous.


    The explosion was more airy than she was used to, but the diminished shockwave was appreciated. The searing heat and spots in her vision from the light of the fireball bleeding through her eyelids? Not so much.


    She uncoiled like a spring, using the explosion as her signal. She was quickly swallowed by the fringes of flame as she ran towards her goal. Time seemed to slow, the hammering heart in her chest agitating the damaged ribs. Her heavy footfalls were lost amidst the screams, but she was blind to the specifics until she was already halfway through the clearing. It was only then that the fragments of realization dawned on her¡ªthe absurdity of flipping a coin with her life on the line. Incineration and perforation were far from forgiving, yet she ran through the blast fearlessly.


    Her feet continued to carry her blindly forward, vaulting over boxes and containers while being guided by naught but memory and faith. Mortality was an afterthought. All she cared about was reaching Bill.


    Her eyes opened just as the final licks of fire singed the edges of her fur, the automated loading of the elevator leaving only the slightest of gaps before the platform would be lost behind the descending wall, leaving her exposed amidst hundreds of surprised others.


    A blur entered her periphery, a twitch reaction sparing her the beheading.


    The operator of the crane had been rendered unconscious, slumped over the controls. She leapt forward with every bit of strength she could muster, clearing a pile of crates before letting her legs buckle on landing, ducking the heavy bludgeon of machinery that swung at her skull with force. The crane¡¯s metal arm brushed her fur as it passed, crashing into countless objects behind her and intensifying the chaos.


    It didn¡¯t matter. She was so close. Just a bit farther. Just a little longer. Hurry, before they see her. Before they can place her as the cause. Before the gap became too small.


    She reached the closing wall, the falling edge of the barrier threatening to leave her behind with every frantic heartbeat. Smaller. Smaller. Now.


    She dove headfirst.


    The door to the elevator shaft released an echoing thump as it shut against the ground. A softer repetition sounded out as Sunundra rolled and crashed into the piled cargo, struggling to steady her breath, pain radiating throughout her form. All she could do was focus on the cycling rhythm of her panting and listen to the muffled shouts for anything that suggested someone had seen her, but¡­


    Nothing. Some workers yelled for medical attention, while others screamed in pain. A bellowing voice demanded to know what happened, answered by a nervous response trying to remind them of complaints about a faulty drone and improper storage methodology.


    The elevator jolted before a consistent whirr of motors replaced the chaos outside the shaft, the cacophony fading as she ascended. She almost burst out into manic laughter. Her ¡®plan¡¯ went exactly as she had hoped, but the sobering reminder that she hadn¡¯t thought of how she would exit the elevator chilled her blood before she could get too giddy.


    That didn''t last long either.


    A second thunderous explosion reverberated in the elevator shaft, shaking the platform until the following flash-fire roared up from below, scorching the edges with an unrelenting inferno. A lifetime of demolition experience took over and forced the air from her lungs as space seemed to warp. A bang sucked reality away, then stopped, the pressure abating as quickly as it arrived.


    She opened her eyes after a few moments, noticing that she was still mostly fine and moving upwards. The only difference was the dry warmth and complete silence aside from the elevator¡¯s hum. A soft breeze moved languidly through the shaft, the once impenetrable blackness above her now a hazy white light of damaged fixtures and smoke, the upper door absent from where it should be. The defect blinked.


    Ah. They stored the other containers together near something flammable, didn¡¯t they? That would do it.


    At least she probably didn¡¯t need to worry about witnesses now, though the fumes were an issue¡­


    - - - - -


    As she suspected, the elevator door had blown a good distance away. A scattering of equipment and casualties littered the fifth level logistics bay, an alarm buzzing in the background. Workers rushed to extinguish what fire had spread, others dragging potential explosives away from the scene to avoid another incident. Conveniently, the aliens were too busy ensuring their immediate survival or fleeing the scene. None were concerned with where she was hiding, allowing Sunundra to slip out into cover, then into the tunnels.


    She finally let herself remove the hasty mask made from her torn shirt, coughing once the entrance sealed behind her. If it wasn''t for accidentally inhaling flame on a few occasions, then she might have been dying of asphyxiation or simply charred from the inside, rather than just biting back the pain in her ribs. She pulled the map out between breaths, suppressing the bile that tried to follow.


    The next elevator up wasn''t very far away, and although she wanted nothing more than to rush there, something else caught her attention on the terminal.


    A server room.


    Whereas the sixth floor was the ¡®testing¡¯ floor¡ªwith many rooms locked behind flush walls and featureless corridors¡ªthe fifth appeared to be oriented more towards observation and experimentation. Quite a few areas were noted as laboratories, staff quarters, and more still were listed as barracks for various vocations.


    The pillars and support quirks of the lower level were replaced by regular load bearing walls and columns on the fifth, meaning that she would need to place far more charges if she wanted to get all of them. Of course, she didn¡¯t have enough on paw to rig up everything, and didn¡¯t see a point in being that thorough anyway. Nothing would prevent a collapse once the lower floor had been taken out from under it. Still, a few explosives in key locations would make the process more reliable. She chose a couple spots here and there that shouldn¡¯t be too out of the way, while also ensuring a clean demolition. As long as she avoided the more heavily travelled pathways, it should be a fairly quick task.


    - - - - -


    And quick it was. The previous explosions and permeating caustic smoke seemed to have ushered the complex into an emergency response, and although she had worried that security would come charging through the tunnels after her, it proved to be an unfounded concern. Based on the chatter she overheard while waiting for groups to leave an area, someone had reported the initial incident as a failure to adhere to protocol, and the second event was categorized as an extension of the mistake.


    No one knew she was involved.


    It made for a fairly uneventful skulk through the level, excluding any tense moments where she was forced to stand still behind improvised cover with a paw on her purloined pistol. Luckily, that was only a single time, and she was rather thankful that the rest of the planned charge locations weren''t in an office.


    ¡­Or that anyone noticed the melted latch.


    What was less fortunate, however, was how long said skulking took. The voices were of little help, only slightly mollified by the knowledge that her hesitation in dispatching every foe was in service of wiping the lot of them out in a single decisive strike. They still growled, echoing in her skull as she pressed an ear to the doors. They still clouded her judgment and caused her paws to shake. They still screamed at her to find her bond¡­ To become whole again.


    But in order to do that, she needed the map to respond more expediently, which led her to the sweltering tunnels running parallel to the server room. The door popped open, the pain of stuffing the odd terminal back into her abdomen now an eased sting of security¡ªmorbid, yet reassuring. She held a paw on the pistol, the grip too oddly formed to accommodate her anatomy for any functional duration. It would suffice for clearing a room, but her twitching claws made keeping it in the makeshift holster a smarter decision.


    Much like the name suggested, the server room was filled with massive storage arrays, only the occasional cable bridging a gap between what looked like various generations of servers. Some might have allowed collaboration of the species'' different systems, but all of it was too alien for her to start guessing which was which. Regardless, she searched for something that she could work with, eventually settling on an exposed screen and some odd input devices. Part of it looked like Bill''s terminal¡ªthe symbols and glyphs on the board tickling at her recognition¡ªso she chose that to use, if only because there was comfort to be found in the familiar.


    Another throb of pain came from her stomach as she retrieved what was needed, the odd terminal Greg had gifted her sitting in her bloodied paw. What was his instruction again? There was a¡­ Ah. Right.


    A thin cable pulled out from the corner of the device, the corresponding port on the server nearest to her accepting the input quietly. She laid the map down and placed the tethered device atop it while she tried to figure out what to do next.


    As if divining her need, the screen filled with a bland stretch of text, presenting options in an unknown format. A moment of frustration passed before it was updated to display Unified Lilhun, earning yet another belated gratitude to the male who had passed to see her successful. She navigated the confusing interface, eventually finding the navigational device and the files therein to be accessible wirelessly. Yet that was where progress stopped. She didn''t have anything to pass the files off to, nor had she encountered anything during her traversal. All she had was¡­the gifted terminal.


    She glanced at the crimson-stained item and exhaled slowly. A quick check confirmed that she could use it to free up some space, but if it would alleviate the issues she had been facing or merely cause both devices to falter was yet to be discovered. Not seeing any other option, she decided to risk it. The only remaining question was that if she were to keep it inside the safest place she could, then what was prioritized? Any organization of the files was slapdash at best, and a large portion of the contents were designated glyphs and numerals that failed to translate due to never being a conventionally conveyed message at all. It was mostly abbreviations and quick designations to be referenced by someone specializing in the field, not just someone who happened across them.


    She picked out a few to decompress and observed the results; a star chart around a farming world, a blank testing file, and a recipe for something that might be edible. Not particularly promising. Some were potentially worth the added security, though nothing truly seemed valuable to her¡ªnot that she was an expert, nor could she hazard a guess as to what might prove critical.


    It took a while longer until she stumbled across a file that caught her attention. It listed pages upon pages of names, affiliations, origins, occupations, and everything else that might be useful for sorting. What really drew her eye was the pairing notations¡ªmore so when she came across her own name. Her documented details were sparse, aside from the criteria she fulfilled: female, no den, and defective. An addendum referenced her procedure, but that was all they really bothered to learn about her, save for ¡®Bonded status: Highly probable¡¯ tacked on at the end. She selected the suspected bond, another file opening in its place. Her brows knitted in confusion. This profile seemed to be significantly more detailed, including employment history, financial records, known associates, and much, much more. Family trees were referenced, and mutual acquaintances were cited, yet her focus remained fairly centred on the name which was different from the one she knew, and a note about why she had never learned it.


    ¡®Bill¡¯ was a moniker, it seemed¡ªa common abbreviation of a longer name. It appeared to be a regular occurrence amongst humans to allow those close to them the privilege of using the shortened name, and a comment was left for others to be aware that the species was known to give an alias to those they were fond of.


    Sunundra was¡­confused, but warmed. Her being his ¡®Sunshine¡¯ was proof of Recon being wrong. Someone cared for her.


    Her eyes drifted to Bill¡¯s profile once more, lingering on the name of his past mate and his two kits. The ones he worried about so deeply. She moved the files to the odd terminal before properly considering it, yet before she knew it, more files related to her bond were added. At first, it was just information regarding those he held dear, but soon she was adding pictures, reports, and anything else she found about his home planet. Each addition was novel and interesting. It was an entire species that wouldn¡¯t reject her or any defect based on a condition they had no control over. A species that would accept them.


    Soon, she had alleviated some of the storage issue, though she hadn¡¯t really chosen anything significant to her people. A random selection resulted in the transfer of a few blueprints for some technologies that seemed suitably alien to her¡ªincluding a ¡®fabricator,¡¯ whatever that was¡ªand a now reasonably full pair of devices, instead of the single burdened one. After confirming that nothing would break, she retrieved her possessions and set back out into the tunnels, finding that the odd terminal could actually display text files.


    She ended up making her way to the next elevator while reading all she could about her bond and his kin, even if most of the information was technically irrelevant.


    It mattered to her. He mattered to her. If whoever was mentioned here was important to him, then they would live in her heart as well. They would be two as one, as it should be.


    It was right.


    - - - - -


    Possibly due to the disruption she caused with the¡­¡®storage failures¡¯¡­the next freight elevator was unattended. It made for a surprisingly stressful trip, truth be told. Between setting charges and listening for muffled voices that never came, her nerves were highly strung by the time she finally mustered the strength to enter the corridors again. Yet there was no one to be seen, the equipment left to idle and most automated processes paused. The elevator platform was unaffected, carrying out its cycle as she used the time to make up for dwindling explosives.


    Another five charges were completed by the time it returned, an unfinished sixth promptly tossed into her bag when the massive door opened. She crept towards it, careful not to get overeager and needlessly expose herself.


    A wise decision, apparently.


    A feathered biped chirped as it exited the elevator shaft, the winged arms flapping in one large motion. It was avian by her estimates; the taloned feet and stubby, sharp beak were the main determining factors. The alien looked around, muttered about trying to find somewhere with decent airflow, then wandered off. Sunundra waited for all signs of it to disappear before she eased a paw off her pistol, hurrying onto the platform before it departed. The door closed behind her while she tucked away and loaded the map for the fourth level.


    The server room was well worth the detour.


    Not only had she gained a wealth of information, the navigational terminal actually managed to answer her request long before the elevator reached its destination. The hallways seemed much more navigable, the rooms were spacious, and none of the overlays suggested that there were any concerns about being spotted by a patrol. The floor appeared to just be a residential affair.


    Even the smaller logistics bay proved different as the elevator door opened; it lacked the large machinery and drone tracks of previous levels, and the platform remained in the shaft as opposed to cycling outward. What¡¯s more, only a single free-moving drone entered the chamber before loading its boxy storage compartment with a few items and leaving.


    The quiet atmosphere was¡­unsettling, however. She gathered a breath and checked the map for maintenance tunnels, but was rather distressed upon finding that the level was devoid of any. That just left traversing through the halls normally, which was enough to make her paws tremble from both fear and adrenaline.


    Find him.


    The map was invaluable for actually locating Bill, if only because the upgrades also included notes regarding a room she came near enough to. As much as she would have preferred to check everything on the terminal before leaving the relative safety of the elevator, the feathered alien had proven that people did come this way, if only occasionally. Instead, she walked carefully through the halls, stopping every so often to check the details of her surroundings and listen for others she might be seen by. It took far too long, but she found what she was looking for after a few hundred rooms, guided through the final stretch by wisps of scent.


    She stood in front of a door that was largely indistinguishable from its neighbours, her heart pounding as hard as it did when trying to push slurry through her veins. What if he had been moved? What if he was genuinely gone? What if everything had been for naught? She pushed aside the concerns and reached out to turn the knob of the entrance, receiving a jarring lack of movement. It was locked. Her paw hovered before hesitantly rapping the barrier, both of her ears twitching to listen for whatever consequence the noisy disturbance might have caused.


    They snapped forward at an unintelligible response from inside the room. Each pump of blood strained her chest, yet the wisps of expectation stoked a fire that had laid dormant. The door clicked and rattled, then creaked open to reveal a human male rubbing the fatigue out of his eyes, groggily grumbling his seething irritation.


    ¡°It¡¯s like three in the morning and I told you guys to leave me alone. This place better be on¡­fire¡­¡± Bill¡¯s eyes widened, flicking from point to point over her form. His fatigued ire melted into slack-jawed shock. ¡°Sunshine? What¡­? How¡­? T-they said¡­?¡±


    Whole.


    She didn¡¯t even register lunging at him, nor that she had knocked both of them to the floor in doing so. Even the pain of her limbs and wounds were but a distant memory as she wrapped her arms around him as hard as she could, only the burning warmth in her shoulder telling of how stressful the act was. She tried to speak¡ªto warn him of the dangers and tell him how desolate she was without him near¡ªbut only choked sobs squeaked out from her tightened throat. Tears flowed freely as she breathed deeper and deeper. The well of worry, sadness, and panic was captured and held by her core, pushing her own mind into overdrive as it absorbed and mirrored the sensations.


    Yet as his arms wrapped around her, another set of emotions pierced through the maelstrom.


    Relief. Joy. Affection.


    Her weeping grew as the endless stress and stimulants failed to fight back possible suns upon suns of activity. The ceaseless pursuit of the male that was finally back in her grasp. She took in all that he was, feeling his warmth against her fur and the scent she had grown to need so desperately. The voices finally ceased their disorienting deluge of distorted demands.


    No, they wept with her. They cried with elation to reunite what had become a part of her. They sang their contentment to hold him and never let go. They whispered so gently into her ear that denying it would be sacrilege.


    Claim him. Make him her own.


    The curtain of rest closed swiftly, yet she could feel the resistance of flesh against her teeth and taste the iron tinge of blood on her tongue as she absently licked the punctures, driven by instinct and¡­


    Hers.


    ¡­She had failed to adhere to her own warnings, it seemed. Bill was speaking, but nothing made it through the thick blankets of his touch, nor how comforting it was despite the pain. His surprise and concern were a drop amongst the oceans of joy.


    For the first time since he left oh so long ago, Sunundra truly slept, and she did so in the arms of one who meant more than life itself.

 Chapter 12

    A deadened sting in her stomach dragged Sunundra unwillingly from the lead weight of sleep that hung heavily over her consciousness. Protests from burdened muscles and aching joints assaulted her relentlessly. A shuffling sound to the side of her supine form prompted slurred thought, her mind hazy and weak as it tried to piece together the missing context through the dripping ooze of exhaustion.


    What had woken her? Why was she sleeping? Did she pass out? Where did she pass out? For how long? Did someone find her? How many? How much time did she have?


    Stupid. She was on the cusp of being hunted down, and yet she had been taking stimulant tablets too sparingly. What use was caution when facing the Void? Why worry about one¡¯s health when she was but a single error from the end.


    The absence of a backpack on her shoulders and a pistol digging uncomfortably into her side told her that she was woefully unprepared to fight her way out if there was more than a single assailant. Two might be possible, if they were poorly trained, but if it was more like those securities officers in the depot¡­ Well, she wasn¡¯t confident.


    Something lightly brushed against the fur of her stomach, the injury flaring in pain at the disturbance. One small point of contact turned into several. A testing pressure carefully spread the wound open.


    They wanted the terminal. They wanted to take her method to find him.


    No. Not after she came so far. Not when she was so close.


    Her heart stuttered into action, turning into a thunderous pumping in her chest. The kick-started hyperventilation drove dregs of oxygen into her haggard body, hindered by remnants of the caustic fumes. A paw snapped out, grabbing at the offender and clutching the trespassing limb by the wrist. She tugged them off balance, ignoring her screaming shoulder while loading the muscles in her free arm to spear through the flesh of whoever¡ª


    ¡°Woah! H-hey! It''s me! It¡¯s okay. You¡¯re okay.¡±


    It burned, but she held back the attack, her ear twitching in recognition as rapid and shallow breaths evened out, clearing away the haze of chemicals. Weary blinks struggled to clear the daze of sleep and adrenaline.


    Bill¡­? When¡­? Did he find her? Where were they? Even in the seclusion of the maintenance tunnels, they still had to hurry. She hadn¡¯t yet plotted a path to escape.


    Wait. She was lying on something¡­soft?


    The attempts to orient herself eventually brought bleary focus to the surroundings. Pastel blue walls contrasted a cream-coloured ceiling, a sliver of a door frame resting in the edge of her periphery. Her eyes drunkenly dragged themselves downward. She was so tired. So sore. It hurt so much. Instinct demanded that she be alert, yet he claimed that she was secure¡ªsafe. The assurance resonated, draining the pent-up panic and leaving behind a vapid veneer of composure.


    Safe¡­ Was she truly safe? She couldn¡¯t be. She had spent endless suns with the caress of the Void teasing her demise, suffered the wrath of another¡¯s explosive, endured shots from kinetic weapons, and subsequently been discarded as refuse¡­ She had skulked through the complex with the threat of death looming over her head for so long¡­yet just two words melted the concern and stifled the voices that tried to speak. As idyllic as it was, she allowed herself to surrender to the mottled emotions.


    Her gaze drifted to the source of comfort, her arms falling limply to the side as her greatest desire entered view.


    Bill supported himself over her, a thin sheen of moisture covering his exposed flesh and a warmth radiating from extended light exertion. Blood stained his shirt, though he didn''t seem to be hurt at all. His gaze moved from its wary regard of her retracting claws to meet her questioning expression with both guilt and trepidation.


    The reason became apparent when she looked at herself; most of her clothing had been removed, though some cloth had been laid over her form to preserve modesty where appropriate. She should have felt concerned about the development, but such thoughts barely crossed her mind, instead being swiftly pushed aside by other observations.


    A wet rag lay discarded on her stomach, the fabric stained a gruesome crimson. Even if she had gotten used to it, the wound she substituted as storage still bled slightly, and it still stuck to her shirt when the ichor dried between retrievals of the odd terminal. It wouldn¡¯t be much of a stretch to assume her pants had since become sodden from it as well, the discomfort going ignored in favour of moving forward. Yet despite the state she was in previously, most of the blood matting her coat had been removed, and the singed fur no longer looked blackened and unruly. The only explanation was that the male had seen to it.


    The fumes of alcohol radiating from most of her cauterized punctures supported the theory, as well as the tender sting that accompanied it. Between that and the damp fur, she figured that he had spent a considerable amount of time cleaning her injuries. It would explain the need for disrobing. She was grateful and stunned that he would take the time to do so, but the feeling only bloomed when she remembered the first time she was indisposed. His tender touch and attentive actions had lessened her struggle when even wakefulness proved to be too much for her to sustain. Here he was again, seeing an enfeebled defect and making it his duty to see her mended, the otherwise pathetic existence being no less treasured in his eyes. She was no less treasured.


    The cool prodding of the Void could never chill the warmth in her chest that he provided. It could never eclipse the soft but encompassing affection that grew and strengthened with every breath. She was cared for. What¡¯s more, she was cared for by her bond, the one who was her true other. Her purpose. Her reason for life.


    There was an embarrassment that lingered somewhere under her serenity and fondness, the feeling suggesting she had done something wrong worthy of beratement. It was detached, in a way¡ªforeign. Strange, but far from important when he was so near. Still¡­


    Sunundra returned her attention to the male, the confusion on her face apparently asking what her parched throat had failed to utter.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to wake you,¡± Bill voiced softly, the apologetic tone matching the apprehensive wince. He offered an abashed smile, righting himself to sit on his knees beside her. The mattress shifted from the weight.


    He grabbed the rag and hesitated when he went to use it on her fur, seemingly debating if continuing his treatment had become less advisable now that she was awake. The guilt in her chest was heavy, yet as she watched his internal conflict regarding her lack of garments and his unbidden actions, a worry grew as well. A desire to aid and treat to the best of her ability took root, as if doing nothing would be equally as harmful. It urged her to assist, while also chastising her for doing so without permission, the sensation not too dissimilar to the voices. How odd it was to feel the compulsion without the ephemeral sounds there to torment and coerce.


    She nodded her assent when his eyes drifted back to her, inhaling in preparation for what was to come. Just the confirmation she gave was enough to lighten the burden shadowing his visage, the dense guilt inside her diminishing in parallel. His guilt diminished.


    There it was, the reason she came all this way. Wholeness. Unity¡ªinfluenced by a piece she never knew was missing, yet yearned for regardless.


    He returned a wry smile marred by regret, his paw gingerly placing itself upon her stomach. The blunted claws gently pried open the wound on her abdomen, inspecting its severity before he resumed his treatment. Ethanol left a burning pain wherever it touched, the soaked rag brushing over raw flesh. Her focus remained on the male and the veiled concern mirrored by her core.


    He reciprocated her flinch when he accidentally pressed too firmly. ¡°Sorry. I''m not a stranger to cleaning scrapes and cuts, but this is a bit outside what I¡¯m used to. I was going to call medical here to look you over, but¡­¡±


    The pale-furred female drew a deeper breath and tried to piece together what she had missed, finding her memories scattered and fragmented. The blurs of explosions, running, stealth, and suffering had melded together into one long recollection that seemed to loop in on itself endlessly. Had she used the last of her explosives? How much material did she have left? Where was the next elevator up? Could she still move freely?


    ¡°Should I?¡± The male¡¯s reluctant tone snapped Sunundra out of her daze, the jolt straining both muscle and bruise. Bill furrowed his brow at her pain, a critical disapproval wrote across his face. Indecision quickly took its place. ¡°I can still get them over here. It won''t take long, and they''ll have anything you need.¡±


    Her voice hitched once more, a firm shake of her head being the best she could manage. The alien stared doubtfully.


    ¡°This¡­¡± His eyes wandered the numerous burns, lacerations, and perforations. He sat back once more, tightened fists resting on his lap. ¡°This isn''t something you can just ignore and hope it goes away. I don¡¯t know what happened, but¡­ I mean, look at you! I think these are bullet wounds. It¡¯s like you dove into a bonfire during a firing squad. You''re covered in more cuts and gouges than I feel comfortable dealing with by myself, and you passed out right after¡­¡±


    His tirade faded out abruptly, a paw raising to uncomfortably rub the top of his shoulder.


    ¡°You showed up out of nowhere, looking like you got hit by a flaming transport truck, and it just got worse the more I wiped away.¡±


    Her throat began constricting, though it was no longer from the dryness or what little caustic fumes she had inhaled. It was an all-encompassing terror pulling at her from the inside. It was a fear of loss¡­ No, it was the dying gasp of hope as one reclaims that which they thought lost, only for it to crumble once it was within their grasp.


    It was a reluctance to accept such was ever felt at all¡ªa futile attempt to steel oneself lest the pain return anew.


    The feeling sank into her soul, snugly absorbed into the divot where such had rested many times before. Yet this time was different, in some unknown, minute way. The feeling fit almost perfectly, but it tormented her unlike ever before. That was when she knew it wasn''t of her own origin; it was his. Her bond''s. He felt it tearing at his core, any decision made or avoided also threatening to be the one which doomed him to repeat his past. The revelation only made it hurt all the more.


    ¡°I¡ª¡± The successful word was followed by a hacking cough, dislodging clotted blood. She closed her eyes to try again, carefully enunciating every syllable. ¡°Do not call for them.¡±


    She waited, but when a response failed to come, and a sense of horror clawed from within, she lifted her eyelids. The male stared at the crimson flecks, hesitantly collecting some and testing the viscosity between two claws.


    ¡°Blood.¡± He pursed his lips together and made to get off the bed. ¡°I''m calling medical.¡±


    He was going to summon them here? The enemy? They would find her. They would see she was with him¡ªno, they would know before even needing to set foot in wherever they were. They would learn that she still lived, and they wouldn''t make the same mistake twice, nor would they care if her bond survived as they corrected the issue.


    He was beckoning his demise.


    ¡°No.¡±


    She wrenched him back by the wrist, her shaking grasp and desperate stare tapering his determination when he turned to scowl at her defiance. The irritation in his visage wavered, his paw gently placing atop of her own.


    ¡°I''m sorry, but you really need a professional to take a look. You need stitches at the bare minimum¡ªlikely more, if something¡¯s punctured. Not to mention the possible concussion. It''ll be quick, I promise. I don¡¯t know why or how you''re¡­¡± He swallowed heavily, averting his gaze to hide the wisps of suffering within it. ¡°I''m not sitting around doing nothing when you''re this banged up. You should have seen someone long before you had the chance to get here. It was stupid of me to wait.¡±


    Her hold remained firm, her teeth gritting as she tried to sit up, only to be guided back down by the male softly pressing against her chest.


    ¡°You''re hurt,¡± Bill whispered, a strained wetness cracking his voice despite the attempt to hide it. The subtlest tremor shook his paws as he tried to placate her. ¡°Is it because of the surgery? I promise that I won''t let them do anything besides patch you up. I''ll be right alongside you the whole time to make sure. You don''t need to be scared.¡±


    Every utterance hit her heart twice. The first time was a genuine concern for the pale-furred female, and the second was an echo of words once said in similar circumstances so long ago¡ªa reassurance given to someone who stared down the Void, yet who he never allowed to do so alone.


    She¡­knew¡­that he had offered this compassion so wholeheartedly before. She knew that he was reliving that moment now, the remembrance of agony and sorrow threatening to overwhelm him. Somehow, she knew he was terrified of losing someone who had penetrated the distance between the world and his affection. He was scared to reach out so sincerely, yet did so anyway, holding a wish that someone else''s suffering would lessen, if only just a bit.


    It was foolish, considering the circumstances. They needed to leave immediately. She had to alert him to the dangers awaiting them. Her muzzle opened to warn the male.


    ¡°Don''t go.¡±


    But the fractured soul spoke instead. It was pathetic and timid, unwilling to part with the warmth that even frigid dread provided.


    The male closed his mouth, a chastisement for her stubbornness dying before it could be aired. A long moment of silence hung between them, the defect staring into his eyes with the same fragility that she had sworn to never expose.


    She wasn''t Demo, an upbeat female who believed that another might come to care for her if she just tried hard enough. She wasn''t Sunundra, a kit abandoned at the church and turning to prayer when the world wished no more of her. She was his Sunshine. She was a weak and trembling soul who feared nothing more than losing the one thing she had always wanted. All she could do was desperately hold back the crushing weight from forcing her vulnerability out through terrified tears. She had broken a promise once made to herself and harboured something far more than she should have allowed to be felt, but it would only be a burden if he knew just how imperative his presence had become to her. She would be a burden.


    ¡°You need help,¡± he breathed pleadingly, leaning closer while treating the repetition as if even one decibel more would shatter her. It wasn''t impossible that it would. Not when it was him. ¡°You need more than I can give, okay?¡±


    She wanted to curl up and hide from the outcome he feared, though it would do no good. The end would come soon enough. It would hunt them down. She matched his imploring words, fighting each one out as clearly as possible. ¡°We must leave.¡±


    ¡°Leave?¡± he pressed, frowning at her raspy insistence as he tried and failed to restrain his frustration. ¡°You¡¯re barely able to speak! You have an open wound on your stomach, and I can¡¯t even guess how bad everything else is. I¡­ What the hell happened for¡­this?¡±


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Memories of cracking gunfire and all-consuming inferno replayed, swallowing her vision with shadows of splintering boxes and roaring flame. Greg¡¯s limp form lingered along the edges, crunching glass and choking screams drowned out the voices calling for blood¡ªthe blood she had spilled so willingly after a lifetime spent preserving the lives of those who detested her.


    An unexpected caress banished everything as quickly as it had arrived. The male cupped her cheek within a paw, dragging her gaze to meet his own. She saw a suspicion in his eyes, the caution and defensive ire awaiting a spark to ignite. He cycled a breath, his voice begging for answers.


    ¡°What happened to you? I got a message saying there was a structural collapse and that you were¡­¡± The male forced down the anxiety. ¡°They said there were no survivors. It¡¯s been¡­ You shouldn¡¯t have just dragged yourself all the way here in this state. How did you make it out? Why haven¡¯t you gotten help?¡±


    Her exhaustion grew heavy when her core whispered emotions without the voices that had been haunting every thought. He wouldn¡¯t abandon her. She felt it¡ªthe need to hold and keep someone else safe. It seeped through her form, the sense of synchrony easing her troubled mind. Fatigue sunk its claws into her with a vengeance.


    ¡°My bag,¡± she murmured, struggling to remain coherent. Bill frowned disapprovingly at the avoidance, but his inspection only saw a tired desperation. He nodded, parting to cross the room and return with the requested item stashed behind a small table.


    Her backpack had seen better suns. The blackened materials smelled of smoke and iron, its singed surface separating for her to retrieve what was needed. The first was a painkiller to dispel the fog, the male flinching in surprise when she jabbed the syringe into her leg, the empty applicator clattering against the floor. A stimulant was next, crushed between her jaws and swiftly chased down by the remains of her water, finally sating her thirst. Heartbeats passed as chemicals numbed the pain and cleared her thoughts. She used the opportunity to rummage through and take stock of her possessions.


    Charges, empty shells for decoys, ample materials to replenish the previous two¡­


    ¡°Where is the firearm?¡± she asked, freezing when it donned on her that she might very well have lost it at some point. Bill loosely motioned towards the door.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t¡­ I didn¡¯t know what to do about it, so it¡¯s stashed in a drawer out there for now,¡± he answered vacantly, his eyes shifting away when she sat up and dislodged the cloth across her breast in the process.


    Sunundra watched with a new mix of emotions swirling beneath the surface, though she struggled to pick any particular set out from the rest. She nodded her acceptance, adjusting herself into a slightly more comfortable position. ¡°And the terminal?¡±


    Her bond flinched, giving her an accusatory scowl before redirecting his gaze once more. ¡°Where did you get a staff tablet?¡±


    Doubt. Worry. Concern. Betrayal. She stopped herself from snarling as she remembered the reptilian alien that tried to prevent her from seeking her bond¡ªthe one who lied and would happily leave a shattered defect to crumble. The one who now made that bond feel distrustful of her.


    The sounds of her paws rustling through her backpack resumed, though she was mostly just distracting herself. ¡°I took it from one who needed it no more.¡±


    The male blinked. ¡°You stole it?¡±


    Her motions slowed, the disappointment in his voice adding to her guilt. Her reply came as a troubled whisper. ¡°I needed it to find you.¡±


    Several expressions formed and were replaced upon his face, eventually settling on a hesitant uncertainty. ¡°We¡¯ll give it back and apologize. Normally, they would use it against you¡ªtheft isn¡¯t a good look for this kind of thing¡ªbut they might overlook it, given the circumstances. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if taking it seemed like the only option after the accident.¡±


    ¡°There was no accident.¡±


    She ignored his vacant stare and sorted her bag for easier retrieval of items. As soon as she was confident that she could grab whatever was needed without much effort, the backpack was laid on the floor, additional stimulant tablets, coagulators, and painkillers placed aside to be put in a pocket once she had them again. The pale-furred female slowly looked back at her bond, his visage questioning and perplexed.


    ¡°What do you mean there wasn¡¯t¡­ Then what¡­¡± He pointed a paw at her injuries, then the door, further speech dying between aborted attempts.


    Something suggested that he had considered the truth of the matter. Considered, but had dismissed it as foolish, too worried about what that would ultimately mean for them to allow the thought to fester. She waited for his arm to fall as the discarded musing became a tangible possibility, using the pause to shuffle towards the edge of the bed, gingerly getting to her feet.


    The cloth covering the rest of her form fell from an unstable step, quickly followed by herself, her sense of balance failing to correct for the unexpected difficulty. Bill caught her against his chest, stunned into silence until he was sure she could at least stand without too much effort.


    ¡°You shouldn''t be moving around,¡± he chided half-heartedly. Despite the reprimand, his comforting embrace remained, exposing the core of concern within. ¡°Especially when you still have cuts that need cleaning¡ªand nothing to wear.¡±


    The full force of his scent struck her, further muddling her troubled wakefulness. Her breaths grew deeper, taking in everything that she could and more, losing herself in the minute details she had been so lost without. Moments passed before she registered that he had spoken and was awaiting a response, yet she simply bathed in his scent, content to let the sensations carry her away.


    ¡°There are spare garments in my bag,¡± she mumbled. The reassurance of security was still there, but it had been weakened by a cautious doubt. He was right to question it. They were in danger. They must flee. They must¡­but it felt so right to stay there, absorbing his warmth and letting his influence propagate.


    ¡°But what¡­¡± Her ear flicked as his long exhale tickled the membrane, followed by his conceding tone. ¡°Fine. We can talk about it after. You should probably wash up first, anyway. I can get another towel and some soap if you want, but I don¡¯t think standing in the shower is a good idea. We can make sure there''s nothing worse going on once we get rid of the blood.¡±


    He lightly released her in an attempt to coax her back onto the bed, but she resisted, wrapping her arms around him to increase their contact. The cinders within brightened. She wanted more. Her core wanted more; it sparked and flickered, wanting nothing else but to offer form as she had given soul to the one who matched it so perfectly. To continue down a path where naught but she and he stood. If only for now, none knew of her survival. None would interrupt what she wished to occur, and feeling her bond''s flesh beneath her paws grew to be an incomparable experience.


    The evidence of his efforts in tending to her left a slightly damp residue, the pads of her claws gliding over the shirt covering his furless skin as it memorized every nuance. She wanted to feel more, yet was restricted by his clothing. Although, if it were to be removed¡­


    How oddly addictive the thought became. How intoxicating it would be to know she smelled of his scent. To coat him with her own. How intense the need became when she realized that she could very well do just that.


    Danger.


    Yet the heat pooled in her centre.


    Flee.


    But they were safe, for now. There was time. She had time. Time to take and be taken. To give and be given. To taste the fruits she had pined over for so long, and to offer healing of the scarred soul which tensed beneath her touch, mending him as he mended her. They would be two patchwork entities crafting fragments for their other from the shattered remains they once consisted of, every new piece no longer working with its origin, yet repurposed for another.


    That is what she desired, to be one in every way¡ªinseparable.


    Perhaps she would have feared his reaction before, and maybe it was strange to feel so drawn towards one not of her own, yet it didn¡¯t matter to her now. She heard it within him, the pounding of a heart which cared not for circumstance. Its rhythm quickened when she leaned against him, strengthening as she explored his form with caress after longing caress, tracing from shoulder to the small of his back. Her concerns of what she had become enamored with faded as he reacted to her every whim, only a sense of fear and concern diluting the moment enough for her to resist fully taking what was hers.


    The fear was for her safety. The concern was for her health. He fretted about whether she was well enough to make these decisions¡ªa trembling expectation lying shaded under a pragmatic rationale that denied the reality of her lingering ministrations. She parted from him enough to see his face, her soft smile of contentment conveying her every intention.


    She denied reality for him, the teasing travels of torturous claws grazing the flesh beneath the garment in playfully light meanderings. Her half-lidded eyes brimmed with more than just gratitude for assisting her; they announced that she was taking pleasure in knowing that he was the one who did. That he was the one beneath her touch.


    Something was missing, however; it itched and prodded between the warning urgency of the voices his proximity muted. Just one act was needed for him to lay his claim upon her, then all would be well. It would complete her. She would be complete. One mark separated her from satisfaction and fulfillment. All she required was to give him impetus.


    Her breaths became damp with expectation as she watched his resistance weaken, the subtle expression coloured red by unacknowledged understanding. Reason chipped and crumbled as baser inclinations made themselves known. Her reflection of his soul knew the restraint was waning.


    She shuddered at the sight of another viewing her as more than a condition she had been cursed with. A few more nudges and then he would claim her as she had claimed him. He would make the years of suffering but an instance in a sea of forever, confirming what she felt beneath the surface.


    Bill clenched his jaw as he placed a tentative paw to her shoulder. Reluctance. Confusion. Desire. Concern.


    The bond tempered the euphoria, leaving disappointment to weigh on the thin layer of healing and hope. The stress of even that small rejection tore into her at the seams, unravelling the threads of happiness she tried so hard to gather.


    She pulled herself into him once more, pushing her muzzle into his neck, lest the fraction of doubt be enough to remove her from his warmth. It was met by a resonated shock, true, and his uncertainty grew threefold, yes, but she felt the flare of need and comfort residing under the hesitation. It was a large effort not to give into instinct and place her mark upon the male who tried to seem uninterested, yet whose scent told the truth. She could almost picture the flesh against her teeth again, taste the iron¡ª


    ¡­Wait. Again?


    The thought brought all others to a screeching halt, her ears pinning back and her eyes widening in fear.


    She remembered it now. The insistent voices had cheered their revelry over finding the one who she restlessly searched for, followed by the foggy sensation of alien ichor on her tongue as she lapped at the light punctures in a languid daze of exhaustion and contentment¡­


    Oh¡­ Oh no.


    = = = = =


    Illia twitched, her inputs into the stenography terminal ceasing. Heroon struggled to maintain his calmness, a snarl sneaking its way onto his muzzle as he requested a moment from the defect in containment. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms while mentally preparing for what was to come.


    ¡°A forced mark!?¡±


    He winced at his den-mate¡¯s volume, somewhat grateful that the intercom required constant pressure to transmit through the microphone. The Quesitar-in-training cared little for if she was heard, it seemed, because she launched into an impressive tirade containing no small number of expletives. It was surprising, honestly; he wasn¡¯t aware she knew so many.


    ¡°She is a defect,¡± he reminded her flatly, feigning composure. ¡°She could attempt it as much as she would like, but it would never serve its purpose.¡±


    ¡°It is a crime.¡±


    ¡°Committed during extraneous circumstances, several events which impaired judgment, untold fatigue, numerous injuries, and¡­¡± His attempt to mollify his assistant and restrain his emotions enough to continue the interrogation stalled out with a sigh. Unfortunately, Illia was never one to waste an opportunity to complain.


    ¡°A bond made with an alien, which is purported to be fact by a prisoner who would only benefit from asserting the exceptional.¡± She turned in her chair, jabbing a claw in his direction. ¡°Not to mention that it is impossible for that to bond in the first place!¡±


    He glanced at his readouts. ¡°Yet it seems to be truthful.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a defect! You of all people should know how unreliable this equipment is when matched against those abandoned by the Hunt Mother!¡±


    As much as he would like to refute it, she was right. There hadn¡¯t been much variation reported since they started this whole thing, as far as the measurements went. Looking at the contained female, however¡­ Change was evident.


    The Special Tactics Officer was far more alert by now, actively looking around while recalling specific details. A permanent scowl was etched into her face, only deepening or abating as she approached one topic or another. Occasionally, it would mute back to the lost, dead gaze of the broken, but it was otherwise consistently twisted.


    Save for the flicker of hope that appeared every so often¡­ It wasn¡¯t much, and it never lasted for more than a blink, but it was there. He suspected that whatever the origin might be, it was why she had remained placated enough to be incarcerated. It might be why she still drew breath at all.


    She had ceased the limp and desolate posture of a decaying carcass, straightening in the chair as if it had only just become possible. It was strange to see her almost come back to life over the course of her tale, though it only added weight to everything that transpired. Venom mixed with word as she spat distaste, wetness strained her voice as sorrow resurfaced, and a warmth carried an airiness to the shadows of a sardonic smile.


    Her claws would flex every so often¡ªchipped and serrated from irresponsible use. The female would slow her speech when she did, inspecting them like she felt a substance matting the fur of her paws, or as if something still stained the colour. Other times, she would absently reopen the wound on her stomach by stretching out a specific way, or pressing against it with her arm. Knowing what they did now, it was likely a habit ingrained into her when it was used to store the ¡®odd terminal.¡¯ Feeling the injury seal probably provoked more discomfort than the pain of tearing it anew ever would.


    Heroon exhaled, glancing at Illia out of the corner of his eye. ¡°Regardless of if we believe the bond to be true, the fact of the matter is that our laws make no mention of the act against other species.¡±


    ¡°Because there was no reason to believe anyone would be demented enough to seek claim of one!¡±


    ¡°It seems there is at least one,¡± he pointed out tiredly, nodding towards the transparent wall separating their dark office from the white cell. ¡°And what of the recordings?¡±


    His assistant¡¯s rage stuttered to indignation, the animated gestures coming to an end as her paws returned to her lap. She bitterly averted her gaze. ¡°We have not been presented evidence to support the existence of such. If there was some semblance of proof, we would be having a very different discussion¡ªone that would not involve the mere fantasies of a defective. Were it true, then we would have already left to report this to our superiors.¡±


    ¡°That was not what I asked.¡±


    He met her glower with a neutral expression. ¡°What of them?¡±


    ¡°The conclusion she came to; others¡ªnotably, not defective¡ªhave possibly taken the species as mates.¡±


    ¡°There is little basis for the assumption.¡±


    ¡°But there is some,¡± he countered dryly. ¡°If we are to condemn the action, then we must outline when such is acceptable.¡±


    ¡°Consent.¡±


    The male nodded in agreement. ¡°Then we should continue to withhold judgment until more is revealed.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªYou are right to hold our values so closely,¡± he assured, raising a paw to stop yet another line of argument, smiling when the beige-furred begrudgingly complied. ¡°There is¡­more here than we are privy to, which is why we hold these sessions. We must divide our hearts from our perceptions; only then may we truly ascertain the truth.¡±


    Illia frowned, but the exasperated sigh told him he had gotten through to her. She swivelled her chair back and resumed her place on the terminal, inclining her head to indicate she was ready to resume. His claw hovered over the intercom, pausing its descent when she spoke one last time.


    ¡°Then what does your heart have to say about everything so far?¡±


    He glanced at her, followed by frowning at the contained STO. A sense of unease welled in the pit of his stomach. For all the absurdity of her tale so far, one thing repeatedly echoed in the back of his mind.


    The female had adapted to madness.


    It was controlled and directed with fervent purpose, perhaps, yet madness all the same. It was shown through the slight twitches and piercing stare that seemed to bore through the barrier between them. It was behind the wisps of revelry nesting in her eyes when she regarded her torn claws. It was in the merciless determination that only strengthened as she ripped and pulled open her wound over and over, as if every spike of pain was a reminder of her purpose. Her composure was but a tool, only servicing a greater goal because it was what she needed to achieve the desired result.


    Insanity had taken root within the defect, yet she had not succumbed to it. No, she had twisted even that into a weapon to be used, modifying and altering it into a form she could wield, regardless of the toll it took. She had been embraced by the Void and came away as a maelstrom of sharpened, shattered glass in the shape of a diminutive female. The only uncertainty was over just how much control remained in that fragmented soul.


    His heart told him only one thing: take caution when toying with the tendrils of the Void.


    Heroon looked back at his assistant, shaking his head with a dismissive huff. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    The button of the intercom depressed.


    ¡°Special Tactics Officer, Demo. You may continue.¡±


    = = = = =


    The excitement and anticipation of Bill¡¯s embrace washed away under the deluge of guilt, further amplified by the echoes of the bond. The once seductive heat building in her core suddenly chilled to a freezing dread, his regret becoming her own, merging and turning it into a poison which made already laboured breath nigh but fruitless. Concern became an insufferable assault of anxiety and terror. She couldn¡¯t subdue it; it was earned through unforgivable and vile action. She had sinned both against her faith. She had sinned against him.


    Of course, he would hate¡­


    A breath successfully breached the cacophony of horrid remorse when the blade of loathing she expected against her psyche failed to pierce it.


    He¡­didn''t hate her? The reflection within said as much. If anything, his care only blossomed as he gently led them both to sit on the bed, her sudden panic attack and choking gasps only solidifying his determination to help. He still cared for her. He still wished her safe.


    Sunundra blinked heavily, steadying herself around the connection which pulled every string and lever throughout her mind. Why?


    ¡°Are you okay? Is it your stomach?¡±


    Her ears turned towards her bond¡¯s fearful voice, his attempts just barely suppressing the self-critical beratement. Her gaze shifted to the edge of redness on his shoulder that peered from beneath his clothing. Why didn¡¯t he hate her? Why was the affection still so strong?


    He placed both paws upon her cheeks, lightly brushing the fur as he tried to gauge her condition. ¡°I knew I should have stopped you from taking whatever that was. Does it hurt?¡±


    ¡°Forgive me¡­¡±


    The male followed her eyes with his own, exhaling sharply in frustration once he noticed what she was referring to. ¡°I don''t care about that. I wasn¡¯t expecting it, but it wasn''t the most worrying thing at the time. That spot was taken when a dead person showed up in the middle of the night.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªBut,¡± he interjected, relaxing slightly as he removed his touch. Her paws were held by his own before the absence could register. He hesitated, but eventually spoke once more, his tone firm yet caring. ¡°If you refuse to be seen by the staff doctors, then I want to know what happened since I left¡­ No, I need to know. Please¡­¡±


    Silence stretched between them as she tried to deny and refuse the compulsion to comply. It felt horrible, like she was tearing a piece of herself out. He would tell her, were the roles reversed, yet she wished not to do the same? For what? To spare him the horrors she had seen? To spare herself of the bonded reactions? Or was it to pretend that she might share in the passion of another while danger lingered around every corner, desperate to have what had never been achievable. Was a bond not enough? Was acceptance not enough?


    ¡­No. It wasn¡¯t. She was greedy and gluttonous. The desire to hoard and bathe in another''s affection wasn¡¯t new, but never had it been so strong¡ªso consuming. It was suppressed for too long, hidden beneath a veil of too many complacent smiles. She had never seen the signs of another who might be willing to indulge the needs of a defect, yet it burned within him, dampened by his care for her injuries. It was there¡­


    A heavy blink freed the building dampness, a tear soaking into her fur; the first of many, most likely, as much as she hated feeling so weak. She nodded, accepting the cloth to cover herself when Bill belatedly offered it. When she had finally organized her thoughts and decided on a version of events that seemed most coherent, her muzzle opened, her focus returning to the male that had started it all.


    The first inhale stole her breath. Under all the layers of apprehension and caution, of fear and suspicion, was unfiltered affection and attentiveness. Nothing else existed to him; it was only her, only what she had to say, and only a determination to help however he could.


    It made reliving the events easier. It made what she had seen and done less haunting. It made all of it just that much more worth it.


    She began with the sun he left, comforted to know that even the mundane held his rapt attention, his claws lightly rubbing her own as he listened. He wanted to hear it.


    She had always wanted someone to listen.

 Chapter 13

    Sunundra¡¯s tale grew less succinct as time went on and events bled together, but Bill stayed sat on the bed with her, his grasp remaining on her paws, if less active. His claws had stopped their soothing circles once she admitted to taking her first life, settling into a firm grip ever since. Not a word left his mouth, but she was following his emotions through the bond, each shift influencing her own; she knew how he felt about every revelation and experience. He became distressed over the alien she retrieved her first terminal from, was reluctant to accept the necessity behind the use of explosives while on the way to the depot, and felt pained to hear the end of another human he had a positive opinion of.


    The most conflicted reflections came from her recollection of what happened after. His eyes drifted to various points on her form, the locations of covered cuts and cauterized punctures burned into his memory from however long he spent painstakingly cleaning and sterilizing them. Occasionally, he would meet her gaze, then shift just slightly, staring at more damage on her face that had slipped her notice. By the time she got to how she had ¡®distracted¡¯ the logistics bay in order to use the elevators to reach him, he had adopted a muddled pit of both disgust and anger. She had only brushed over the recordings and the suicidal security member. Just knowing that both of their kin had been slaughtered in the name of ¡®science¡¯ was more than she wished to share, but it was something she felt required to tell him, if only to give context and justification for her actions.


    The voices were never mentioned; she didn¡¯t wish to burden him with specifics when even she was still unsure of what they were. He need not be told just how long his Sunshine had hung from the edge of sanity.


    ¡°¡­And then I approached your door. I found you and I¡­¡± Her voice faded as she glanced at the cardinal sin she had committed. Bill remained silent, processing the story with a clenched jaw and pursed lips. ¡°Please, forgive me¡­¡±


    He exhaled, his flare of annoyance stalling her words. His voice was low, yet it swam with a hesitation and distaste that flowed partially in her direction. ¡°All of that, and you¡¯re worried about biting me?¡±


    She flinched, her heart pained at knowing he disapproved of so much of her journey¡ªof what she needed to do to find him. ¡°It is a sin to¡­¡±


    ¡°You hurt a lot of people. You killed someone¡­ Probably more¡­¡± The discomfort in her paws grew as his grasp on them tightened, wisps of anger shadowing his face. Desperation threatened to swallow her whole, even the thought of being left behind or discarded by him destroying her piece by piece. She turned her paws over to hold his in return.


    ¡°They have secluded and experimented on our peoples¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªThat doesn¡¯t make it right,¡± he whispered, cutting her response off with only the slightest force. ¡°I¡­ I understand that what you think they¡¯ve done is horrible¡ªand it would be¡ªbut they had lives and families!¡±


    Her eyes widened, the accusation striking more deeply than anything she had faced thus far. ¡°T-think they¡¯ve done?¡±


    Bill let go of her paws, getting up to take a few steps away before pacing around the room, throwing his arms out in frustration. ¡°You were¡­wacked out on drugs, Sunundra! Painkillers, stimulants, and God knows whatever else! You can''t even remember how many you took, can you!? You were barely awake before you started taking more!¡±


    She reached for him from the bed, unable to bring herself to get up and approach. She wasn¡¯t Sunundra, not to him. She didn¡¯t want him to call her that. She wanted to be his Sunshine. She wanted him to say the name with affection again, not with the loathing and abhorrence that she heard from her kind all this time. She didn¡¯t want him to cast her aside too.


    Yet none of it was voiced, shut down by trembling limbs and the vile acid crawling up her throat. He turned back to face her with a suffering rage on his face, the snarl abating when he saw the pathetic state she was in¡ªhow terrified she was, and how poorly she was concealing it.


    ¡°I¡­¡± His ire faltered, pushed down as sympathy and guilt rose. ¡°You didn¡¯t sleep. I don¡¯t know about your species, but humans, at least, need it. Those tablets might keep you going, but it obviously just masked the damage being done. Attacking someone shouldn¡¯t have been a solution! As soon as that happened, you became a threat to be dealt with¡ªa dangerous person running freely¡­ So, yeah, they would send security. You didn¡¯t give them a choice.¡±


    ¡°T-they claimed you were¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªIt was probably a clerical error!¡± he shouted, struggling to keep his volume reasonable. Sunundra just shrank further into herself, her world falling apart fragment by fragment. The cracks in the core echoed. ¡°All it takes is someone to make a small mistake for that kind of thing, and that''s assuming it wasn''t some hallucination! Yes, I get you didn¡¯t want to be alone anymore, but that was too far!¡±


    ¡°You¡­were gone for so long,¡± she squeaked out, bringing her knees to her chest and holding them tightly. ¡°I waited for you. I waited so patiently. I wanted to be there when you returned. I wished to greet you, and speak to you again, and share in all the small stories you would recount upon your return¡­ You never did, and then they told me you were¡­ The text said¡­ T-then the alien smelled of you, b-but it refused to tell me! It knew, yet remained silent, so I was forced to¡­ I-if I didn¡¯t, then I would never¡­ We would never¡­ I beg of you¡­ Please, don¡¯t¡­¡±


    The male tightened a paw into a fist as her supplication became whispered and pathetic, the bond filling her with guilt and agony which amplified her own.


    ¡°It¡¯s too late now,¡± he muttered, his voice cold and bitter. ¡°The damage is done. We¡¯ll be lucky if this doesn¡¯t set the relations between Lilhuns and the Union right back to where it began. This is about more than you and me. What you think you saw while strung out on stimulants and whatever other drugs¡­ I don¡¯t know anymore, but it¡¯s obviously part of a much deeper problem¡­¡±


    The terror built up upon itself, towering higher and higher, each passing syllable threatening to be the one which sent it all crashing down upon her. She was hurting him. Her actions were causing his pain and conflict. He cared, but that only made what he needed to say that much harder. He felt her words were false, but were they? Had she been just hallucinating the whole time? Had the fragile string of sanity finally snapped, obscuring her vision under a veil which justified her decisions? Did the recordings not happen? Had she not been aided by Greg and the alien who improved her terminals? What of the voices, were they just the byproduct of a mind pushed too far for too long? Was she blinded this entire time, seeing only what would provide vindication through a lens of warped perceptions?


    Was any of it real? Had she just needlessly maimed and killed, when asking to see her bond or telling them of the mistake might have sufficed?


    ¡°You need more help than I can give you, and¡­¡± His arms fell limp by his side, the human looking upon her pitifully before walking to the door of the bedroom. ¡°And I guess we¡¯ll try to get it¡­ If you¡¯re so different in an obvious way, then maybe there¡¯s a condition that¡¯s more subtle too, and maybe they can learn from it or treat it. Maybe they can fix whatever made it seem like a good idea to¡­do what you did.¡±


    Stop him. He knows not of the danger. He beckons it.


    But she couldn¡¯t move anymore. Not after each and every one of his words gouged out the desecrated remains of her soul. It took every mote of effort she could muster just to keep breathing¡ªto remain in the same world as her bond instead of embracing the Void which called to her. If all of it was just some twisted effect of restlessness, and she had only made it worse by fuelling her enervated form, then what had she left the base for? What did that mean for everything she had accomplished? Had she thrown away everything time and time again for nothing?


    How fitting. Bill was throwing her away, just like everyone else did. Just like how she threw all chance of ever persevering enough to find a den. A mate. Kits. All of it, cast aside in vain hopes to be embraced, then having even that torn from her again and again. Each attempt at giving her heart to another leaving her with less to nurse and mend. Has she really become so desperate? Was there so little left that it would become bent and tainted so thoroughly?


    She should have perished in the explosion. No, she should have just ended it when he left, before she knew that there wasn¡¯t anything for her to live for. The future she wanted so badly? Gone. The acceptance which was so tauntingly close? No more, and any chance of it was thoroughly snuffed out through her actions. The bond she had silently begged for since her first prayer¡ªthe quiet cries to the Goddess for someone to love her? Sullied by her own careless touch, then stomped out of possibility by an overeager rampage. What reason was there to persist when the gift of the Mother had determined her unworthy of its blessing? Nothing. It was hopeless¡­ She was hopeless.


    The Void need not call for her any longer; there was nowhere left to go.


    She barely flinched when the door slammed shut behind Bill. Her eyes listed vacantly, and her muscles weakly fetched the garments from the backpack, slowly donning them lest he be forced to gaze upon her bare, wretched form again. She was disgusting; she could feel it confirmed through the waning influence. His warmth bled from her core, tearing and eroding the walls of her heart as it dissipated through the gaping hole it once filled. A muffled bang was followed by Bill¡¯s voice rumbling through the door, though she could only pick out the defeated and venomous inflections. All she wanted was to be his, yet this is what it entailed. This is the best she could do.


    Soil. Ruin. Damage. Destroy.


    Force a mark upon the unwilling, for that would be the only way she would ever lay claim to another. Slaughter countless innocents in a fabricated vendetta against events which were the product of a beleaguered psyche, because only then would she be a soul worthy of care. Develop and nurture affection for one who need not suffer it, for he might feel pity and accept it.


    Her stomach ached as she adjusted the spare shirt and pants, absent motions pulling the odd terminal free and applying fresh blood to the fur he took the time to clean. Sullied, just like everything else she laid paw to. It didn¡¯t matter now; there wasn¡¯t much left for her anymore, regardless of what happened next. Either she would be eliminated on sight like a feral animal plaguing a city centre¡­or she would be imprisoned here, suffering the distance from her bond until each breath became too difficult to draw. She would fade into the eternal darkness, alone and abandoned once more.


    ¡­As it should be, she supposed.


    The pale-furred female stared at the bloodied device, waking the screen and bringing up Bill¡¯s file before committing as much as she could to memory. Notes and descriptions, records and citations. All of it was burned into her mind so that she might carry just a piece of him to hold onto when black took hold forevermore. For when her last shivering breath was drawn in a cell, or left through her cooling corpse. There was so much she wished to ask, yet would never get an answer to. So many fascinating facets, forever remaining a curiosity glimmering in her thoughts until even that light was extinguished. His kin would never be met, despite how much she yearned to be in their company¡ªto feel his fondness for his loved ones herself, and learn all she could of them.


    But it wasn''t meant to be. She would die as she lived; alone, unwanted, and defective.


    She donned the backpack and put what supplies she had laid on the bed into separate pockets. Perhaps if she surrendered peacefully, they might spare him the guilt of seeing her executed. Perhaps she need not hurt him more than she already had.


    Bill¡¯s voice leaked through the doorway, more direct and meek than she was used to. Terse answers were given to unknown questions, followed by confirmations. She made sure all of her possessions were accounted for. He was calling for them to take her away, and it would only be cruel to leave behind something which might remind him of her¡ªof the mistake he made in befriending her. Plus, they would take whatever she owned; it would be akin to spitting on his kindness if she gave them reason to make a mess of this den. Of course, that included losing the terminals she had sacrificed so much of herself to keep¡­ Or, the sacrifices she assumed were made¡­


    Even the small comfort of her meagre achievements started coming into question, and those too might yet be stripped away as reality clashed with memory. In the end, it was of little consequence. Soon, she would be but a regret loitering within distant recollections¡­


    As it should be¡­


    - - - - -


    File after file was opened and skimmed while she sat on the bed to wait for whatever was to come next. Anything that caught her attention joined the rest of that which she would take with her into the Void¡ªa small comfort, if there was any to be had.


    Her free paw flexed and relaxed as a consideration surfaced; it would be quicker to extinguish the flame herself, would it not? Perhaps more would remain with her if it was newly read. It would save the resources or ammunition of whomever was to come for her. She couldn¡¯t be fixed anymore, so why waste time and effort when all could cease here and now? It would be rude to stain her bond¡¯s bedding or floors, but the thought of fading without at least the remnants of his scent scared her more than where she was going. Her claws had been sharpened; it would be quick. Yet no matter how sound the reasoning, she delayed it, wishing to take even a little more with her when it was time.


    The random files transferred off the navigational terminal were next, even if she doubted any of it would soothe the bitter tears, the looming dread, or the soft, choking sobs that she tried so hard to ignore.


    Blueprints to strange devices were accompanied by only partial documentation for the production and usage¡ªa product of her haste, it seemed. Assorted star charts led to unmarked areas, or perhaps they might have been classified locations. Nothing she could see would give her warmth in the endless cold. Nothing would ease the suffering.


    Her claws dug into flesh above the arteries in her neck, coaxing out pinpricks of blood as the smallest part of her still searched the files fervently, a tingle in the back of her mind pressing for just one more delay. Another file, another video¡­something. But it was no use. All that remained was the constriction around her throat and the almost mocking tendrils of the Void welcoming back its prey. No document would rectify her sins. No recording would mend what she had shattered.


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Yet, then¡­she selected a particular file¡­


    It was blurry from the crimson smearing across the display, but it was one of the countless experiments like those shown by the security officer. The only difference was that it didn¡¯t simply cut to the end result, instead showing the full process of a human being brutally beaten while their bond tried to fight heavy bindings, screaming their other¡¯s name as each blow and broken bone drew yet more fury from one unable to act. She paused playback with a renewed sense of horror, her claws retracting as they fell from her throat to rest by her side.


    Bill was wrong; it wasn¡¯t a lack of sleep or stimulant abuse. It was real. Just the admittance was enough for the static to return at full volume. The voices came once more, a perfect clarity resonating within her skull and the echoes merging with the wash of noise that threatened to corrode and abrade her from within.


    Danger.


    The lies. The sins. The threats¡­ Bill had called them here, nescient of what he had brought upon them. They were coming. They knew she survived¡ªa mistake they would not hesitate to correct. She knew too much, and it was possible that he outlined what she had told him, confirming that he too was a risk. They would kill him to eliminate that risk.


    They are coming.


    She needed to do something. He didn¡¯t know what awaited him. She needed to protect him.


    Flee.


    She must take him away from the den as soon as possible. They had to go before it was too late.


    Remove.


    She would be required to enter combat, even if he wished otherwise. The file would convince him. He would understand why she had taken the actions she did; she just had to show him. But where should they go? Up? Up would lead them to the surface¡ªescape. Where was the next elevator? Which way was it?


    A soft knock carried throughout the accommodations just as she found the navigational terminal, the sound barely making it through the door of the room. She heard Bill taking a deep breath and muttering to himself as he walked over to answer it, oblivious to what awaited him on the other side.


    No time. No escape.


    The blood drained from her face until sensation was gone. She felt numb, only the crackling distortion in her ears and the strain of her razor-sharp focus remaining. One paw withdrew a charge from her bag, the other tossing a stimulant into her muzzle.


    They will harm him.


    The deafening crunch of the tablet against her teeth covered up the vicious growl building in her throat. They would not take him from her. Not again. If there wasn¡¯t a way out, her explosives would make one. She rushed to put a paw on the bedroom door when her ear flicked forward at an almost imperceptible click of the exit¡¯s lock being disengaged. The voices giggled and hissed.


    She cracked the door open, peering through the small gap with slow breaths. Her pistol was apparently stored in a drawer out there, which meant she needed to repel them long enough to reach it. Preferably, Bill would direct her, but until he knew of the severity of the threat, she doubted he would listen. It didn¡¯t matter; she would rather him safe and appalled than dead.


    The rest of the new den looked much the same as the one they shared on the sixth level, save for more furnishings and a less clinical aesthetic. Colours were actually utilized in the decorations, reds and muted yellows chosen for accents on the dark browns of strange wood. Couches and other seating designed for fewer occupants were placed in a semicircle around a rectangular display, curious tables designating spaces to lay items on the ends of each. Lamps were diffused by patterned shades, pictures of alien vistas lined the walls, and some of Bill¡¯s possessions were strewn haphazardly across the various chairs, his terminal opened atop a cushion. She spotted the door, only a sliver visible from the angle she had.


    She also finally located her bond, the male¡¯s paw turning the doorknob to allow entrance to whomever had come to take her. There wasn¡¯t time to stop him. The exit opened inward slowly, the force of blood tearing through her veins sending a prickle across her flesh. An alien twice as tall as Bill hunched low to see within the comparatively tiny door frame, a mass of tentacles supporting its bulk instead of legs.


    The human seemed surprised, but gestured for the being to enter, closing the door behind it while offering hollow thanks for coming all this way. Sunundra didn¡¯t hear a response; the distorted screeching had grown too loud and muddled. Too warped and blended. It screamed at her to remove the threat.


    She watched them speak, a presumed request to see the ¡®ill one¡¯ being met with a paw lazily waved in her direction and what might have been a brief overview of what happened. She saw a weapon being produced from the alien¡¯s hidden holster before levelling it at Bill¡¯s head, his expression contorting from guilt-ridden sadness to wide-eyed surprise. She saw all of it happen in the span of a breath that lasted eons, the bond slamming a droplet of terror deep into her damaged core. It cracked.


    The shimmering rain of a fragile soul shattering like glass reverberated in the chamber that was her, a silent yet roaring inferno incinerating the hopeful beliefs she once held, leaving only a blackened husk where light had vanished. They didn¡¯t see the fall of emotion from her face as an instinct deeper than conscious thought claimed her actions and extended her claws. They didn¡¯t see her until it was far, far too late.


    Rapid pats of pads on flooring drew the attention of the massive alien, its grotesque head turning to meet her merciless vacant eyes with its own. Details were lost on her, only a silhouette visible to the bloodlusting impulses. It tried to turn the weapon on her. It tried to backpedal on its numerous appendages. It tried to react when she used the mass of limbs as a springboard, her arm wound back and loaded for the kill. It tried many things to defend itself, the soft snap of its weapon sending a blur into the ceiling.


    It tried and tried, yet it failed all the same. The wet splatter of claws piercing upward through its throat sent a shiver of malicious glee down her spine. This threat sought to harm her bond, and there was no greater reward than ending it by her own paw.


    She rode the towering form as it fell, using the last moments before impact to straighten her legs against its form and tug her arm free, crouching to absorb the landing. It crashed with an annoyingly weak thump for its size, though such could also be a small blessing. The weapon it used wasn''t worth considering, however; the item was purpose-made and lacked any obvious way to hold it with her paws. Unfortunate.


    ¡°Bill?¡± she asked evenly, her stare fixed on the wretched being that tried to take her bond and thus suffered the consequences. Her ear turned towards the door and the sound of footsteps just beyond it, a thrum of satisfaction fading at knowing her task was still incomplete. They were low on time. ¡°Where is the pistol?¡±


    He flinched, nervously watching her pull an explosive out from her bag. The demolitions expert left the corpse to rig a charge on the door, placing another farther away on the same wall. She spoke louder when he was still yet to respond.


    ¡°Bill.¡±


    He finally looked away from the deceased. ¡°W-what did you¡­? Why did they¡­?¡±


    She bit back the sense of urgency and the barked orders which would come out with it. His terror fed into her, supplanting the steeled focus she was trying to maintain. A soft beep confirmed the arming of both charges, giving her enough peace of mind to approach him. The male¡¯s gaze moved from her to the crumpled form on the floor, then to the weapon which had been mere fractions from delivering his demise. Each step she took was matched by his stumbled retreat, only repeating thrice before he bumped into the couch and had nowhere else to go. She slowly reached up with her unsoiled paw, gaining his attention while keeping her voice as soft as she could manage, pouring every bit of unwanted affection she had for him into her warning.


    ¡°They have come to put an end to their mistake, Bill. You know of their sin, thus you are a part of that task. They hold no remorse for the slaughter of the innocent, and will waste no opportunity to dispose of us. I shall provide proof of my claims later, but more are gathering outside. We must first survive, and I will not do it alone. Please, Bill. I need the pistol.¡±


    His stare wandered shakily before eventually returning to the pale-furred female, though lacking any clarity. He was trembling, disoriented, and struggling to reject the truth she presented. ¡°T-there¡¯s more? They¡¯re going to¡­ Uh¡­ I¡­ O-okay? Oh, fuck. It''s¡­ W-where did I put it¡­?¡±


    Her face dropped into a scowl. It was no use; his thoughts were tangled by fear and adrenaline. The unknown and unexpected had sent him into a reeling panic.


    She pushed the reflection down, yet still her control started slipping, mirages of both him and herself bloodied and slain flickering amongst the edges of her vision. Her paws quivered, uncaring of how critical it was to remain calm when her bond was so distressed. It was too much happening too quickly. His mind stalled and sputtered, wary that even she might prove a danger to him, yet she felt the dulled pull of emotions far less wavering¡ªthe deepest depths of his heart echoing inside of her as well. It, too, was scared and confused, but it recognized her within the chaos of desperation.


    It pleaded for the violence to stop, yet worried for what might happen if it didn¡¯t. It echoed a newfound clarity and the reluctant realization that she might have been truthful¡ªthat there were far more unforgivable souls than the one which willingly risked life and limb to reunite with him¡­ It lamented wordlessly, mourning what he had said of her, and what he might have brought upon them through his ignorance. Bill¡¯s heart voiced what his mind could not, yet it did so through the bond she would gladly sacrifice everything to forever feel.


    He was scared and lost, looking at her with half-uttered words stuttering out through hyperventilation. He couldn¡¯t think, react, nor do anything but seek an anchor in the storm¡ªa constant in a changing wasteland of desolate circumstance. No matter what he believed the truth to be, and regardless of how abhorrent he felt her actions, part of him wished to trust her. His heart told him that she would remain by his side, and silently begged for it to be true. It wanted them both to be safe again.


    The sensation was foreign throughout her life, yet she recalled the wisps of it when he idly spoke of his past. ¡®Safe¡¯ was his den back on Earth. ¡®Safe¡¯ was kin. ¡®Safe¡¯ was what he promised for his kits. But there was no safety here, and the realization drew from a well of loneliness that he had worked so hard to hide. It brought forth deeper desires that he had starved so as not to burden those who relied upon him.


    He yearned for the feeling of love and comfort that came from being near his den-pack, but he was too far away now, his decisions and assurances isolating him more than ever before. The closest thing he had to that solace was standing in front of him, even after he had dismissed her tale because it failed to match how he perceived the world.


    In the brief moments they had as the enemy mustered in the hallway, his heart whispered how much it had missed her¡ªhow terrified and overjoyed he was to see her again. It passed along the shadows of restless moons fraught with worry for one who had claimed a place within him, and admitted to the hesitation to acknowledge how natural it felt to share in each other¡¯s presence. It wanted to be forgiven for doubting her. It wanted to fix what he had damaged.


    Sunundra knew that the fondness they shared had blurred at some point, the peaceful conversations and warming proximity crumbling the wall they both placed around their damaged souls. Yet, where he had recoiled in fear of feeling the pain of loss once more, she accepted it, gazing into his eyes with a wealth of affections surpassing her vow to never let it grow into something more. The slightest reflection of that fact within him as well was enough for her to give in.


    Her lips pressed against his own in a moment of bliss. The trickle of euphoria multiplied and filled her to the brim in an instant, her chest light and her aches vanishing as she drowned herself in the pools of contentment. Never had her heart beat as fully as it did for him. Never had a scent been so addictive. Never had she known just how incomplete she was.


    Bill stood stunned, a paw pressed against her shoulder to push her away, until the unexpected sensation wiped away the panic wracking his mind. A blank slate remained, quickly stained by her colours as she had been stained by his. The distancing intention faded, his touch softening to a tender caress that began memorizing how she felt against his skin¡ªhow his warmth bled into her, and how her own bled back. How her pulse raced for him, and how it would cease for him just as willingly. Cause and purpose. Drive and destruction. They were nothing more than two souls brought together through suffering. Him, a male tarnished by strife and hardship. Her, a female moulded by the divine to meet him, yet shunned for her mismatched creation.


    She pulled away reluctantly, her dampened breaths and wanting eyes matching his own intoxicated expression. She burned to learn more of him, and she knew he burned as well.


    ¡°I¡ª¡±


    Her claw gently stopped his words, the slow shake of her head buying the moment she needed to compose herself. She spoke through light pants, struggling against the heated desire to continue. ¡°The pistol.¡±


    Bill blinked, a calmer awareness coming to bear. He gave a hurried nod before quickly scanning the room and focusing on her request. ¡°Y-yeah. It¡¯s¡­uh¡­there, I think. Top drawer.¡±


    His gesture led to a cabinet resting against the far wall, where the weapon was thankfully present. She gripped it in her sullied paw while retrieving the navigational terminal from a pocket with the other. The map loaded fairly quickly, overlays filling the screen with what limited filters had been applied previously. What was sufficient for stealth would be of little assistance now; she had different needs since they knew of her survival. Tunnels, vents, access hatches, elevators¡ªeverything that would detail paths and interception points were activated. She walked back to her bond after finding the designation for the hangars on the second level, firmly putting it into his possession.


    ¡°Guide us. I will deal with them as needed.¡±


    Bill looked down at the map, doubt marring his expression. ¡°I can¡­try, but I¡¯ve never¡ª¡±


    She couldn¡¯t help it. He was worried, using her as a beacon to navigate the turbulent circumstance and willing to put his life in her paws. She grabbed him by the collar and stole his lips once more, just as the door was kicked in.


    The shockwaves blew against her back, sundering both the doorway and the wall it was built in, the charges spreading death into the halls. A lick of flame brushed over her fur from how excessive the explosive would normally be, yet it was a symbol of everything she was willing to be for the missing piece she had finally found.


    They parted as the silent voices swooned at the display of affection, then giggled at the sheer destruction the enemy had brought upon themselves. A glance was enough to confirm it; they had stacked up in the direction she suspected, putting the bulk of their reinforcements directly behind the second charge.


    Nothing remained to stop them for now.


    She brought her attention back to her bond. ¡°Which way?¡±


    Bill released his hitched breath, placing faith in the pale-furred female when the scene before him proved too much. ¡°Which way¡­? Oh, r-right. Uh¡­ We need to go¡­well, right, assuming we want the elevators.¡±


    ¡°Check the status of the freight elevators as well. We have limited time before more forces are sent, and it would be wise to plot multiple escape routes.¡±


    He nodded, doing as requested to serve as a distraction while he quickly gathered some of his things.


    Sunundra shrugged her bag off of one shoulder, grabbing the empty shells of explosives and hastily preparing them for actual use. They needed variety¡ªwide-area denial, obscurement, lingering effects, subtle traps, and anything else she could make. Her claws hooked into the remaining string of firecrackers, only briefly pausing to look at them. It wasn¡¯t for long, but it was enough.


    She was kind, in his words, yet she stood before him, unbothered as she rendered foe to blood and mist. The worst part was how satisfying each death was becoming, every enemy she dispatched now filling her with a sickening pride.


    Her paw clutched a few of the red-coloured items, clipping the fuse so that she had a single one in her grasp. She would hold onto what she once was, then return to it when what she had become was no longer required. She would be his Sunshine again, piercing through the dust and debris of her own making. The path forward would be rife with difficulty, but she could endure it for him. Even if it were to take years to fully mend the damage this place and her actions will cause, she would persist, waiting at the end of the process to hold and cherish.


    ¡°I got my stuff,¡± Bill announced anxiously, pointedly averting his gaze from the shrapnel left behind by the directional charges.


    She finished her own preparations, stuffing the firecracker in her morbid pocket with the odd terminal so she would never lose it¡ªhis view fortunately obstructed by her bag. She secured it on her back again before reequipping the pistol uncomfortably within her paw.


    The male drew a tense breath, his claws fidgeting with the map and a single-strap bag slung over his shoulder. ¡°L-listen, Sunundra¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªSunundra was abandoned by her den upon the steps of the church,¡± she countered quietly, staring at the ichor soaking into the fur of her arm. ¡°Sunundra withered and decayed as her kin detested and distanced themselves, leaving only the Mother to care for her.¡±


    He closed his mouth, hesitation and conflict showing through the pained expression. Her paw tightened into a crimson-stained fist, a sorrowful smile donned upon her muzzle.


    ¡°I will take whatever form you wish of me. I will be your bulwark or your claws, your comfort or your ire, your ally or¡­your mate¡­ But please, do not call me that unless you wish no more of me as well. I pray it will never reach your tongue unless you decide it is what you truly desire, so that ¡®Sunundra¡¯ might finally answer the blackened Void which has beckoned her for so, so long. And if so, I beg of you to wait until I am sure you are safe, so that I might pass with that small solace.¡±


    The male swallowed heavily, a deep suffering settling behind his rounded pupils, her grey and desaturated yellow fur reflecting within them. He gazed upon her injuries, each nascent scar a proof of her devotion, proudly worn and willingly endured. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡±


    ¡°You need not answer. The burden of my decisions rests with myself. I only wished to make my intentions known.¡±


    He looked away, uncertainty colouring his pursed lips. ¡°...We¡¯ll talk once we get out of here and figure out what¡¯s going on.¡±


    A warmer smile formed on her face, though she kept it to herself, giving an affirmative incline of her head and taking the responsibility of clearing the immediate area in the hallway. Luckily, there weren''t any footsteps of approaching forces, nor distant cracks of kinetic gunfire. It was silent, only dead and shrapnel littering the passage. She motioned for him to follow, standing aside so that he wouldn¡¯t need to see more than he was ready for. He still caught a glimpse of the charred wood, dusted concrete-like material, and disfigured forms, but the worst remained unknown to him. It was for the best.


    ¡°We¡¯re taking the next right, then it¡¯s straight for a while,¡± he reported, the unease shaking his voice, though he was quick to embrace a change in focus. ¡°After that, it¡¯s a lot of turns in opposite directions, depending on which elevator we go for.¡±


    ¡°Which is closest?¡±


    ¡°Public, but it¡¯s hard to say if we¡¯re better off that way.¡±


    She huffed in mild annoyance. ¡°Is there another path upwards?¡±


    ¡°No. The Union likes each floor to be self-sufficient to a degree, so they stick to elevators in order to maximize the amount of species that can get around first, then worry about shutdowns later. I guess designing stairs for twenty-nine unique anatomies costs too much time and effort.¡±


    ¡°Then, which do you suggest?¡±


    The male slowed in his steps, looking up from the terminal and cycling a breath as he gazed in the presumed directions of their options. ¡°Public. They don¡¯t bother manually closing them unless something breaks. If they¡¯re trying to¡­keep things quiet¡­then it should stay running for now.¡±


    ¡°Then that is what we will do.¡± She started on the path he dictated, pausing after only a few steps when he remained motionless. Her careful pace back to him was met with a remorseful glance that was quickly diverted. ¡°Bill?¡±


    ¡°I should¡­ I owe¡­¡± He inhaled deeply, unable to meet her worried gaze. ¡°I wanted to¡­thank you¡­for saving me back there. I-I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on, and I¡¯ll probably have nightmares for a while, but¡­¡±


    She shook her head, feeling his guilt and suppressed concern. ¡°You need not give gratitude for the obvious. I have no purpose remaining but to draw breath until your own ceases.¡±


    The reddening of his cheeks was as adorable as it was interesting, yet he stifled it by chewing on his cheek. ¡°Still, Sunun¡ª Sunshine. Thank you.¡±


    A soft warmth built in her chest once more, full of comfort and welcome. It allowed her to bask in the radiance of his newly-lit embers. The longing might prove to be troublesome for him, yet it was there beneath the hesitation and fear. She was there, offering reassurance in times most stressful.


    Bill cleared his throat, anxiously gesturing for them to get going while hiding the visual response to her honesty. Of course, she followed with the grip of her weapon digging into the pads of her paw, yet she would rather suffer a hundred times worse than part from him.


    Be it slaughter or Void, joy or sorrow, it would all be for him.


    As it should be.

 Chapter 14

    Sunundra kept an ear pressed to the door, only lowering her raised paw when the echoes of distant footsteps faded fully, the tension melting from the suffocating pressure it had placed on her chest She released the breath that had stuck in her throat, giving Bill a nod as he anxiously inspected the random room they had taken momentary refuge in.


    Though reinforcements certainly did arrive after they fled the den she awoke in, the swift elimination of their compatriots left no information to operate off of. It made the decision to hide away in whatever dens they came across rather effective¡ªa boon, if nerve-wracking.


    The human held the navigational terminal close, his death grip on the device loosening only once she backed off the barrier between them and the hallways. The pale-furred female turned the knob and cracked the door open, scented the air to confirm, then motioned for him to wait as she reentered the corridors. She aimed the pistol down at the floor when a quick scan of the halls revealed no threats. An unrelenting sense of vulnerability persisted, but like it or not, they needed to move. With an affirmative nod to the male peering from the doorway, they set out with careful steps and measured breaths.


    She felt exposed and frail as they traversed the monotonous stretches between junctions, an uneasy expectation of encountering enemies in the back of her mind. There wasn¡¯t much she could do about it; if his call wasn''t enough to set them on high alert, then the bombs she used to leave with Bill certainly were. If she had slightly more foresight, she might have thought to reapply the armour taken off the corpses so long ago, but her human had removed them in an effort to access her wounds, and now they were thrown out along with the rest of her soiled, torn clothing. She appreciated his concern, yet the lack of the admittedly meagre protections made her slightly less confident about her chances in a confrontation. The enemy was beginning to congregate on the fourth floor, which only gave them all the more reason to leave.


    It had taken quite a while to get as close as they were to the public elevator, yet the danger and security gathering around every turn necessitated caution. Thankfully, they only needed to pop a lock open and duck into unoccupied domiciles twice, and although there was a chance of their enemies seeing the slightly damaged doors, they had yet to notice. Her frown grew when she absently wondered just how many times that would hold true.


    ¡°Next right,¡± Bill directed nervously from behind, his voice low as he glanced at the map. She nodded in silent acknowledgement.


    The dimmer hallways of the fourth level might have been a welcome departure from the bright illumination of previous floors, but the shadows cast by the less frequent sources were starting to play with her perceptions. Forms flickered in and out of existence; tendrils whipped about in the shade, only to vanish when she focused on them. She bit down the snarl and desperation swelling underneath the stoic facade her bond drew strength from, ignoring the increasing paranoia.


    She had never truly humoured the thought of being a den-leader¡ªher defect practically eliminated the chances of anyone relying on her, and being fully accepted into a den-pack at all was reserved for her absent fantasies. It was strange to make decisions for others, and not because she felt Bill would perform to a lesser degree; with him so shaken and disoriented, she needed to be the one in charge, if only to offer respite for his looming fear.


    And fearful he was; although he was doing an admirable job of maintaining a neutral visage, the reflection within her portrayed a different image. Threats of death and vestiges of the narrowly avoided demise plagued him, his every glance at her cauterized injuries striking sympathy and concern between flickers of cripplingly high alertness.


    It got worse when he noticed the blood slowly seeping from thin lacerations left untended. The front of Sunundra¡¯s shirt dripped crimson every so often, though she had taken to using her arm to soak it up. Even unaware of the worst, he saw her as hurt and in need of aid. Still, he relied on her to see them safe in a situation he was woefully untrained to handle, thus he could only swallow the worry when she claimed that the gashes were unworthy of consideration. She only hoped he didn¡¯t notice how tired and sluggish her movements were growing to be. What little rest she gained from passing out was far from enough to supply the level of stress, but if he knew just how thin the thread she was clinging to was, he would only worry helplessly.


    A few more turns and stretches of silence transformed their steady progress into a weighted veil of unbearable anticipation. The sounds of his considerably heavier steps let off slight echoes, even when he tried to soften them. It wasn¡¯t enough to compromise general stealth, but it was enough for her to request that he stop well before they assessed each corner, to which he reluctantly obliged.


    Her paw raised once more as they approached the corner of a three-way intersection, Bill dutifully staying close to the wall a few paces back as he watched the defect to raise her pistol towards the left corridor. She listened for the slightest deviation and stared down the sights of her firearm. One heartbeat. Two. Clear. She repeated the procedure for the right, motioning for her bond to regroup once she was sure it was safe to do so.


    Bill crept up to her from behind, his voice a low, anxious whisper into her ear. ¡°Almost there. Next is a left, then it¡¯s two straights, a long right, and a short left. Should be pretty obvious from there, I think.¡±


    She could hear his heart pounding under the forced composure, and the pause to memorize the directions only made the sound more intense. Her tail wrapped around his wrist absently, the unexpected action soothing both of them more than it probably should have. It felt better to have him tethered like this¡ªsafer. Her fate was tied to his, and although he lacked the ability to reciprocate, it felt no less natural to declare such through the instinctual gesture. Feeling her form mirror her mind settled the persisting unease; even at her base, she wished him to be her last light.


    ¡°I will assess the elevator,¡± she decided, regretfully uncoiling her tail from the comforting contact. ¡°You are to wait for me here.¡±


    He clasped her shoulder before she could finish the first step to leave his proximity, the questioning side-eyed glance meeting his open concern. ¡°Isn''t it too dangerous to split up?¡±


    ¡°It is my duty to see you well. I will be as swift as I can.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± He closed his mouth, his lips pursed and his eyes averted. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to run into danger alone.¡±


    ¡°Were I to allow you to accompany me, and harm befell you as a consequence, then my own negligence would be to blame.¡± She gently removed his paw and returned it to his side, letting the pads of her claws linger on his skin. ¡°Trust in me.¡±


    He reluctantly released her, the bond still swimming with doubt and uncertainty. Sunundra frowned the smallest bit, eyeing the door of one of the nearby rooms. After listening to make sure they wouldn¡¯t need to remove an unexpected occupant, she used a small corrosive to melt the internals of the lock, popping the entrance open and gesturing for the male to take shelter within. Bill hesitated, but acquiesced, his worry only growing once he entered the small pocket of relative safety.


    She gave him one last reassuring smile, the attempt to close the door stopped by his foot. His regretful grimace and avoidant gaze punctuated the silence of words waiting to be spoken.


    ¡°Are we sure¡­¡± He exhaled, abandoning the rest of the thought as his round pupils finally wandered towards her. ¡°No, never mind. Just¡­don''t do anything you can¡¯t take back?¡±


    Her response faltered before it could leave her muzzle. He knew it was an impossible request to make, yet a sliver of hope wanted the threat to be far less than it was. He wanted their foe to be but soldiers following the orders of their command out of necessity, and not because the enemy felt it justified. He wanted to maintain the possibility of a peaceful resolution.


    Unfortunately, she had long since learned the folly of attempting to obey a hierarchy while also following one¡¯s own path; whether a rifle is fired because of requirement or belief, the death it brings will remain the same. He was untainted by that knowledge, or perhaps wilfully ignored the weight of reality in hopes of sparing his beleaguered soul. Still, he needed someone to take on that burden, alongside whatever consequences that may bring.


    Without it, he would see the end of what little hope remained, then fall so very, very far. He would plummet until the Void swallowed him whole.


    She had the bond to catch her when the very ground she existed on crumbled; he only had her.


    ¡°As long as you are safe, I will do what is needed,¡± she promised, aware that it wasn''t exactly what he wanted to hear. The disappointment didn''t need to be felt to be noticed; his sorrowful smile said everything. A sense of defeat clouded his absent nod, the male too weary to argue. Her mind drifted to the video on the odd terminal. It was far from an opportune time, but if he could only see why her actions were necessary¡­


    She made up her mind, his dejection quickly turning to surprise, then panic when her paw entered the gash in her stomach, pulling free to present the device.


    ¡°Holy f¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªHere.¡±


    He blinked, stunned by the fresh vermilion coating the screen as she brought the video back up. A single frozen frame depicted a male Lilhun snarling, the expression warped into a promise to deliver a slow and suffering death.


    ¡°B-but your¡­¡±


    A grim but soft shake of her head was enough to stop him this time. ¡°There are more important matters than a wound I will have treated once we escape. This is the proof of my claims, as pitiful as it must appear. I would have preferred you to see it in less stressful circumstances, yet that seems infeasible now.¡±


    Hesitation. Uncertainty. Fear. Her arm shook the slightest amount as he gingerly removed the device from her possession, the cold chill down her spine permeating the expectation of something horrid to appear. It dwelled in the shadows, yet was subdued by a firm breath, her struggle to suppress the pull of the bond only making marginal progress.


    ¡°What if you¡¯re gone for too¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªYou are to remain here until I return, Bill,¡± she ordered, firmly cutting him off with a glare that betrayed how much it hurt her to force the decision. ¡°View the recording once I am away, and no matter what you may hear outside the room, please wait for me.¡±


    The human tightened his expression, his internal debate coming to an end with a reluctant nod. He turned his attention to the terminal, using the pad of a claw to wipe away the crimson smeared across the screen and swallowing the lump of trepidation that formed in his throat. ¡°How did you¡­ Doesn¡¯t it hurt?¡±


    She followed the loose gesture to her stomach, the fresh interaction coaxing out a languid flow of ichor that added a wet sheen to the blood drying into the fabric of her shirt. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Then why¡­?¡±


    Another shake of her head dismissed the topic, her focus shifting to the only other thing she would ever keep so close in both a metaphorical and literal way. The discomfort of the firecracker was more soothing than hurtful. She could return to what she was after her task was done.


    ¡°Because there are some things I wish to keep,¡± the pale-furred female explained softly, a paw covering the damp stain. ¡°Even when life has left me.¡±


    His grip on the odd terminal tightened, a morbid understanding colouring his grimace. Bill¡¯s expression turned rueful, though he directed his attention to the screen before he could dwell on the subject. ¡°So, I just play it while I wait?¡±


    She nodded as reassuringly as she could, her lopsided smile still weighted by apprehension. A fear of her own joined his in the swirling, gaping maw that awaited a moment of weakness, biding its time until it could snap closed upon her trembling form. Just the thought of leaving his side after so long apart threatened to tear the desperate pleas right out of her muzzle, yet he needed to know, and she needed to clear the path. His reaction to the content would hinder her effectiveness, and based on how he felt about eliminating the enemy when they were an imminent threat, she worried about her ability to function under his influence once he knew just how horrid the Union was. The bond may be everything she had ever wished for, but when cold calculation and instant lethal action is a requirement, his hesitation would become her own, and her death would be his in return.


    The male inhaled until it seemed to be uncomfortable, letting it out in one steady, heavy stream of apprehensive compliance. ¡°Okay. I''ll watch it, but don''t¡­ Don''t be too long, okay?¡±


    She reached for his paw, giving it the slightest squeeze and letting the comfort of his touch reaffirm why she had yet to surrender to the Void. The desire to remain by his side grew, but was superseded by the need to secure their escape. ¡°I will return.¡±


    More waited to be said on their expectant tongues, yet neither broke the temporary silence. A request had been voiced, and a promise was made. That was enough.


    The door closed by her paw, Bill¡¯s concerned and conflicted smile slowly leaving her view until a click of the latch left only the lone defect in the hallway. Already, her instincts demanded that she sequester herself away with him. Already, the distance was too much, the thin barrier feeling like vast oceans between her and the scent that encouraged her shattered heart to beat.


    Proceed. Secure. Return.


    Focus. She had to focus. Verify the path to the elevator, assess if it was safe, and then she could come back for him.


    A final uncertain check of her equipment resulted in a few explosives being loosely tethered to the straps of her backpack. Her paw brushed over the aerial drone she had made for Recon, the whispered doubt proposing that Bill might blame Lilhuns for being a component in the slaughter of humans¡ªor worse, he would blame her for bringing such a fate upon him. Her jaw clenched as she forced down the urge to stop him from seeing the recording and doing just that. Regrets could come to light once they themselves were out of the dark.


    The lack of armour meant that even stray shots were dangerous, and her aching injuries may pose little threat of bleeding out, but she couldn¡¯t deny that they had taken their toll. Her shoulder and legs were somehow still holding, albeit only just. Her stomach stung, though remained mostly ignored for now. As for the numerous other cuts and the like? Some had scabbed or matted the surrounding fur enough to repel debris, but most escaped her notice, save for the faint burning sensation scattered over her frame.


    Truthfully, she was in no state to depart on any kind of mission, yet their escape depended on her ability to persevere. He needed her to, if only so that she would be there once he became aware of the full scope of what they were up against. In circumstances where the way forward was clouded by doubt and the unknown, she would be his beacon. Right now, she was needed to guide him out of the facility.


    Her first footstep was reluctant. The second was resolute.


    The third was¡­


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    = = = = =


    ¡°S.T.O. Demo. Continue,¡± Heroon reiterated warily. As was the case for the previous two attempts, she remained silent, staring vacantly at the table she was sitting in front of.


    The captive Lilhun had started pausing during the retelling, each one steadily growing in duration as the story built up to¡­something. Understandable, given the subject, though it was her expressions that worried him. They hovered and melded between forms, taking the appearance of abject terror for some segments, sorrow in others, and detachment slipping into frame seemingly at random.


    Illia glanced in his direction after waiting a while for speech that never came, a tepid concern furrowing her brows. He simply kept his thoughts on the matter unspoken, opting to maintain a cold professionalism as he reiterated the command. The previous silences may have lingered, but those were filled by a voiceless muzzle struggling to phrase the events, her searching eyes telling of the difficulty she had organizing the memory into something coherent. Her words of the human were always quick and concise¡ªthe clear and natural flow of speech more akin to a den-mother regaling a tale of wondrous fantasy to eager kits than a testimony¡ªyet the rest was stuttered and struggled out by an uncertain tongue. It was as if the mere fact that she had been out of his presence was a cursed thought being rejected by her subconscious.


    Or it was too simply too painful to properly recall¡­


    The image of decay had evaporated from the defect; in its place lay a powder keg of doubt and regret. Adrenaline appeared to be suppressed by sheer will, the fidgeting that had become a staple of her motions still present, albeit subdued since she had told of her first kill. She stared at her claws during that recollection, an unsettlingly calm curiosity making itself known, her speech slow and inquisitive. After that, and the general improvement of her condition, it was vexing that she would find now of all times to be silent. Especially after how long it had taken to reach this point.


    ¡°I suppose that will be all for this sun?¡± Illia suggested, a hopeful flex of her claws conveying how sore they had become from the extended typing. Her head tilted upwards. ¡°Or moon.¡±


    ¡°It might be,¡± he agreed, checking the sliver of light passed down through complex mirror arrays to a thin line above him. It had been quite early when they started, yet the dim moonlight stubbornly illuminated the accent in the ceiling, uncaring of their expectation for the interrogation to have been a short affair. No matter. They would summon replacements to continue in their stead. Hopefully, a conclusion would be reached by the time they returned.


    His assistant stood with a slight bounce, stretching out her back and legs. ¡°Think Gemi left us something to eat?¡±


    Heroon hummed neutrally, his eyes fixed on the defect. The pale-furred female was shaking, lightly rocking her downcast gaze. The subtle motions built in intensity over time, a presumed fear taking root as she covered an apparently traumatic section of her tale. His first thought was that she had simply succumbed to the weight of remnant terror or fallen into despondency once more¡­


    Then the laughing started. It began as a bubbling squeak, surpassing a chortle and contorting into manic barks. Her head pitched backwards as the mirth bolstered.


    No, not mirth. He was too disturbed to notice right away, but the moisture of tears dampening her fur caught the light. A slight squeal of claws on metal followed the tightening grip on the edges of the table, a pair of small clicks piercing through the air as two of her claws finally snapped¡ªnot that she seemed to notice. He traded an apologetic glance with Illia, her sigh dragging all of her previous enthusiasm out with it. He reached out to depress the intercom.


    ¡°S.T.O. Demo?¡± The laughing ceased, leaving behind a muted gaze at the ceiling. Heroon waited a moment. ¡°Continue.¡±


    ¡°They are different from us,¡± she stated simply. His pause for elaboration was met with nothing.


    ¡°That is quite obvious, yes.¡± More silence met his flat response, ending as soon as he was about to give up.


    ¡°What would you do, High Quesitar? What if it was you who was given evidence of such sin against your kind and an alien people by one of said aliens?¡± Her head levelled back at the wall between her and the two interrogators, her stare blankly moving from point to point. ¡°You are weakened. Outnumbered. You lack the ability to defend yourself against the enemy. Your ally instructs you to wait while they clear the way, passing you proof that her words are true¡ªthat your very existence is but a stone in the enemy¡¯s way, and one which no thought will be given before being removed. What would your instinct be?¡±


    The brown-furred male raised a brow, feeling Illia¡¯s own interest burning a hole through him from the side. ¡°To view it.¡±


    ¡°And he did,¡± she agreed with a soft nod, closing her eyes solemnly. ¡°What then?¡±


    ¡°Assuming I found it to be sufficient¡­¡± He drew a breath as he thought the answer out. Typically, he wouldn¡¯t humour these hypotheticals. Typically. Yet something drove him to answer. ¡°Obey my orders to await my ally, and then proceed to extraction or exfiltration upon their return. Once clear of the threat, I would report my findings to my superiors.¡±


    The amber of her irises slowly came into prominence. ¡°As was my intention.¡±


    Another fruitless wait ended when curiosity got the best of him. ¡°Then what would make them notably different in this situation?¡±


    ¡°They do not follow orders easily,¡± she whispered. A genuine if wistful smile doused her words in melancholy. ¡°They are an impatient people; when wronged, they do not simply ¡®wait.¡¯¡±


    He exhaled in disappointment, expecting more than warnings of flagrant stupidity. ¡°Your ally fled?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± The defect placed her paws on the table, only now noticing the broken clawtips with a vapid sense of detached novelty. ¡°But he should have¡­¡±


    = = = = =


    Sunundra cautiously approached and peered around the final corner, catching a glimpse of the numerous security officers convening around the entrance to the public elevator, several of which using their apparently superior station to pass along orders and receive reports. Weapons of various unknown origin and design made her wary of even getting close enough for her translator to pick up the conversations, leaving her more sensitive hearing to parse meaningless tones and what little visual cues she could pick out. The only saving grace was that she hadn¡¯t allowed her bond to come with her; his louder steps would likely have alerted the enemy, and she was disheartened enough without feeling his apprehension as well.


    Even if there weren¡¯t such numbers blocking their egress, the lift itself had been forcefully shut down. Its doors were wedged open, a pile of mechanical components placed to the side, rendering the entire assembly inoperable. If they were to commit to using this route, she would need to clear the area, then pray that either her or Bill knew how to repair it. It was a frivolously wishful thought at best. That only left the option of locating the freight elevator for this level and hoping it was left unaltered¡­


    She was trying to remember the general layout of the map when there was a shift in the steady din of alien tongue and busy gestures. One of the creatures paused mid-stride, raising one of its four chitin-covered paws to the side of its head. Her observation was brought to a halt when the distant crack of a gunshot echoed through the corridor. Her ears turned back towards the origin, diffused and thin from the reflections off the walls, yet her stomach dropped as she dismissed probable cause after probable cause in rapid succession. Another shot rang out after a prolonged pause, shattering what little denial she had been clinging to.


    The enemy had been conservative with their ammunition and actions, opting not to simply kick in doors to check each and every room¡ªsomething she owed her and Bill¡¯s current success in hiding to. If the enemy had shot, then they had found something worth shooting at, and the only thing which fit the criteria that way was¡­Bill.


    Multiple eyes and similar analogues snapped towards the direction of the sounds¡ªand, in turn, to where she was watching from. Her paws moved automatically, slipping the pistol back into its makeshift holster and snatching two charges from the straps of her bag. Cold blood pumped through her veins as her arm loaded back and pitched the first explosive into the crowd. Most were too preoccupied with processing what had been thrown to react accordingly, but the few that chose to scatter caught a glimpse of the second object following after the first. The defect broke into a retreating sprint before she could see the result of the unorthodox combination, nor notice the lack of guilt in implementing something which would have previously violated her principles.


    The first bomb detonated in the air, the enemy suffused with shredding fragmentation and fine caustic powder¡ªa non-lethal deterrent on its own, but the second was what elevated it to being devastatingly lethal. The later charge clinked and tumbled across the ground¡­then sparked.


    It was such a small click to follow after such a jarring bang, yet it was that part of the sequence that confirmed she had abandoned her old ways. Neither were useful outside niche applications. In fact, neither would do much more than disable a vehicle, assuming one were to get creative. Separately, they were cruel methods to drag out the suffering of the dying or deny access to certain areas. Combined, they transformed the corridors into unforgiving crypts of flame and corrosive fume.


    The low whisper of wind being sucked in was responded to by a deafening roar of expanding inferno, bathing the pale-furred female in cleansing fire just as she covered her muzzle with her shirt. Her flattened ears and closed eyes stung¡ªthe superheated, aerosolized acid eating away at the exposed flesh of her various lacerations. The burning dissipated quickly enough, the chemicals failing to reach a point of reactive equilibrium, though only just. It freed her paws to wipe away what remained as she exited the effective range of the biochemical war crime.


    She should have been trembling in horror once it registered that she had strayed so far from the path she once vowed to follow, yet the need to reach her bond blocked out all else. How miniscule the sin had become when compared to his safety. How willingly she would do it again¡­


    She turned a corner at full speed, stumbling to a halt when she found her other much farther from the room than he should have been. Bill leaned against the wall in the hallway, one paw on the side of his ribs while the other dangled a rifle of some design by the grip, his eyes glued to a crumpled corpse on the floor. A single wound in the alien¡¯s abdomen left a gaping exit hole that slowly spilled its orange blood into the growing pool. The male¡¯s breath was drawn through clenched teeth, then shakily exhaled in time with his trembling form, a hardened disgust causing him to wear a vicious snarl.


    Sunundra took a step closer, the worrying neutrality of his scent reflecting nothing within the bond. It wasn¡¯t absent, just¡­empty. She felt his influence as a lukewarm presence within her core, yet an uncomfortable sting in her side accompanied the uneasy pressure of something lurking underneath. It was like stepping into a lull of conflict in an active war zone; both sides were too alert to accept respite, clutching their weapons and awaiting the moment that the Void swept the battlefield once more. Her claws tapped against the ground as she approached, confused and cautious.


    One tick of her walk proved louder than the rest, her bond stiffening almost imperceptibly. Her heart thumped in response, a shot of adrenaline acting as a defibrillator, her senses sharpening to a painful degree in preparation to face the looming spectre of death closing in on her. Only a twitch telegraphed the male¡¯s movement, a whipping pivot and sloppily shouldered rifle ending with him looking at her through the sights with an almost feral gleam in his eyes.


    For the smallest fraction, Bill did not see the defective female he had entrusted with his safety; he saw an enemy which came to strike while she was away. Despite the poor form and haphazard stance, his defiance and a spiteful need to persevere for the sake of another stoked the flames of survival that aimed the gun. He was not a soldier¡ªhe never learned how to assess the situation during a firefight, nor taught anything at all¡ªyet one did not need training to point a barrel and flex a claw.


    The muted click of the trigger echoed in their silence, a malfunction causing the weapon to fail and leaving him to stare at the unaffected female. Realization slowly joined his wild expression, followed by relief, then horror as he processed what he had almost done. He glanced at the wavering rifle in his paws before dropping it to clatter against the ground. There was no imminent threat, only her, yet he had wasted no time in trying to dispatch what he thought to be an enemy. It was such a small breach in his previous request of her, yet the crack in his resolve let emotions flow through the bond; worry, fear, guilt, and a surprisingly strong urge to protect became pillars to support her sanity.


    ¡°I-I didn¡¯t¡­ You were¡­ T-then he¡­ I thought¡­¡± he stuttered, swallowing down the dryness in his throat and trying to suppress the trembling in his paws. He stepped forward when she failed to respond, her blank confusion watching as his unsteady legs buckled. He used the wall for support, pushing himself upright with the arm covering his side, revealing the crimson dampening his shirt. ¡°A-are you okay?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re hurt,¡± she whispered vacantly, glancing between the blood soaking through his clothing and the deceased opponent. ¡°Why are you not in the room?¡±


    ¡°I almost¡­ I ran into him when I came out to help and managed to wrestle the gun away,¡± he explained, warily accepting the dismissal of his mistake before checking the injury. He poked at his ribs with a claw, hissing through a grimace before shaking his head. ¡°It stings, but it¡¯s just a graze. What about you? Are you hurt? Is the elevator clear? We need to go back down.¡±


    Sunundra blinked, a scowl of disapproval joining the tone of concern. ¡°Help? Down? No! You are injured! I ordered you to hide!¡±


    He took a defiant step closer, only still standing because she was there to catch him. His arm rested over her shoulder as he steadied himself, the dregs of endorphins leaving him unbalanced and shaking. He pursed his lips, determination colouring his voice. ¡°I watched the video. If¡­that is what they¡¯re doing, then I can¡¯t just sit still while you run off into danger. There are others here, and we need to help as many as we can.¡±


    ¡°Bill, the enemy will act quickly,¡± she insisted, stopping herself from agreeing with him through a painful bite of her tongue. The bond pushed her to protect¡ªto act and assist¡ªthough it was a terribly stupid thing to think of. ¡°We can consider the others once we have escaped.¡±


    ¡°We can''t just leave them!¡±


    Her ears were assaulted by the voice of the only one she would ever be accepted by, her core traitorously mirroring the demand as her own. Everything within her wanted to comply. She wanted to comply¡­but they couldn''t.


    ¡°W-we need only flee to Iras. Then, we will alert my people to the crimes being committed,¡± she proposed pleadingly, hoping beyond hope that he would see reason. ¡°Bill, we are too few, too underequipped, and in no state to stage a rescue within enemy territory.¡±


    His gaze hardened with disappointment. ¡°Then I''ll go alone.¡±


    ¡°¡­What?¡±


    He bitterly separated from her, walking past with a shambling gait as he clutched the wound on his ribs.


    ¡°Bill, it is too dangerous!¡± She reached out to stop him, yet he harshly shrugged off her paw, violently spinning on the spot.


    ¡°That''s why I''m going!¡± His ire faltered when he saw her flinch, his tone and anger hurting her more than any wound. Shame forced him to look away and clench his jaw. ¡°What kind of father would I be if my boys learned that their old man found out about this, and didn''t even try to do anything? The world has enough of an ¡®all for themselves¡¯ mentality. I don¡¯t want them to¡­¡±


    The reflection within grew clouded with doubt and fear. There it was, the reason for his reaction surfacing from beneath the fragile veneer of confidence. Sunundra closed the meagre distance, taking his paw within her own. He didn¡¯t acknowledge the contact, though gently returned the squeeze.


    The enemy, the facility, the impending reinforcements¡­ It all faded away as she became lost in the pain he had let slip, wanting nothing more than to heal the wound that time had left behind. How foolish¡­yet how necessary. Her tail moved to wrap around his waist, securing what was hers so as to never lose it.


    Her voice came out soft and filled with the desire to understand. ¡°What, Bill? What do you not wish for?¡±


    A wetness lent a shimmer to his visage, the depth of terror pulling him deeper and deeper. A fear of failure gnawed at his throat, the pressure on her heart sitting with a familiar weight.


    ¡°They¡­grew up without a mother, Sunshine. Maybe half a father, at best. Yet no matter how hard it was for them, they''ve always¡­ They¡¯ve always just smiled and said everything was okay, even when it wasn¡¯t¡­ Whenever things went south, and they needed help, they''d just shut down any offer I made, sarcastically going on about how they just wanted to make me proud¡ªthat I had it hard enough without them adding to it. It was a lighthearted joke¡­¡±


    A droplet of shame fell from his cheek, echoing for eternity within the confines of the soul like a cry for help that was never answered.


    ¡°I never actually said that I was,¡± he admitted with a mirthless laugh. ¡°I spent so long worrying about them that I never stopped to just¡­let them know¡­ Alli was always the one to do that; I just tried to make sure they had a home to come back to¡­¡±


    He wiped at the tears with his wrist, smearing a light stain of crimson on his cheek. ¡°Hell, I''m still worried. They say that everything''s fine, but I got used to the tone they use when they don''t want ol¡¯ dad to stay up late thinking about it. They see me as some¡­sad man, hopping from job to job while trying to scrape by. It''s probably true, but honestly, I just wanted to live long enough to see them happy¡ªto have what I could never give them. I want them to have an actual family rather than the shambles they were forced to grow up with.¡±


    ¡°Bill, you cannot recklessly put yourself in harm''s way,¡± she begged quietly. ¡°We must leave for you to rectify your mistake. Now is not the time to disregard your safety for the sake of others.¡±


    ¡°If not now, then when?¡± he asked wetly. ¡°If I turn away here, then all I''m doing is turning down people in need. Who''s to say that the Union won''t just execute everyone to cover this up? What then? It''ll be our word against theirs, and I''ll have run when I could have done something.¡±


    ¡°The recording¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªWhat if they don''t accept it, huh?¡± he pressed, his grasp around her claws tightening. ¡°I don''t know about your people, but humans have gotten pretty good at fabricating videos from basically nothing. All the Union has to do is drag out some random citizen''s render, and our proof becomes ¡®slander.¡¯ They will, and it¡¯ll be the first thing they do. Then, we''ll be accused of trying to sabotage everything and left to rot in prison¡­or killed before we get there¡­¡±


    The defect opened her mouth wordlessly, the possibility of his claim sinking in, yet he pulled her into an embrace before the panic could begin spiralling out of control. She drew an anxious breath, steeping in the smell of stress and regret, drawing comfort from the warmth as her tail tightened around him.


    ¡°I can''t just leave and have my boys hear that their father disappeared without a trace after trying to sabotage relations between species. And I couldn''t live with myself knowing that I had a chance to stop this, but cared more about myself,¡± he murmured, the rumbling words reverberating in the ear pressed against his chest. ¡°They grew up trying their hardest, keeping problems to themselves, and quietly fighting every battle life threw at them¡­all so they could avoid making me worry.¡±


    He loosened his hold, not bothering to clear the sorrow dripping off his face, even when she looked up at him with their faces mere fractions apart. ¡°I want to be the man they thought I was, Sunshine. I want to be the suffering hero they saw when their mother passed. I don''t want to be ¡®sad¡¯ and ¡®barely getting by¡¯; I want to live up to those expectations. I want to be a father they can be proud of, so I can finally say just how proud I am of them.¡±


    ¡°It is far too dangerous,¡± she whispered. It was a weak denial of what had already been decided; there was affection clouding her vision, her eyes wandering his features as his own roamed hers. An unspoken tension built between them, expectation building with no obvious outlet. ¡°Is there no other way?¡±


    The human shook his head with a sardonic grin. ¡°Not for me, no. If you think leaving is best, then you can, and I won¡¯t stop you. I''m¡­ I¡¯m going to do everything I can for those people. I know it¡¯s selfish and stupid, but¡­I stand a better chance if you¡¯re there to help me.¡±


    She felt the dampening fur and wistful smile on her muzzle, a warmth persisting through how much she hated how foolish the plan was. The answer was obvious: deny his folly and drag him to the hangars. Yet she almost mewled at hearing his reluctant request¡ªat trust and desire warring against his concern for her well-being¡­ At the comfort he gained from having her near¡­


    ¡°This soul has been bound by the Mother, Bill; her faithful will follow her other, no matter where that might be.¡±


    His wistful smirk grew from the ashes of sorrow, the infinitesimally small distance between them closing unexpectedly. His paw moved to hold her cheek as he kissed her. It was so tender, the display of deep gratitude and affection woefully ending far too soon.


    Bill separated first, his face tinting a shade of red that she was coming to find particularly endearing. He bashfully cleared his throat, nervously glancing at the deceased security member and the weapon he had dropped. He stiffened, a flood of bonded fear slamming into her like a runaway transport.


    A dulled bang shattered the moment.


    Enemy. Danger. Now!


    She ripped Bill to the side with her tail and drew her firearm. The alien that her bond had confronted was still on the floor, though no longer playing dead, instead weakly holding a secondary weapon towards them as smoke listed off the end of the barrel.


    Her pistol¡¯s sights centred on its head. Her claw pulled the trigger. Its viscera splattered outward.


    Yet everything still felt wrong.


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Bill¡¯s mumbled confusion coincided with the muted scent of emptiness, her focus snapping to her bond.


    Everything came to a screeching halt, adrenaline-laced blood freezing as she watched him uncover a fresh wound just under his rib.


    Crimson rapidly spread throughout his shirt, his paw hesitantly raising for him to inspect the sheen of red ichor with a frown before he stumbled backwards into the wall. He flashed her a wry grin marred by terror.


    ¡°H-hey, Sunshine? I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t think this one''s a graze¡­¡±

 Chapter 15

    Heroon and Illia shared a look of trepidation, their mutual unease increasing at the perceived drop in temperature throughout the dark interrogator''s office. The only light came from the accent in the ceiling, his terminals, and whatever bled through from the confinement opposite the transparent wall. Even with the sterile white furnishings, the high-security room seemed to dim as the tale dipped into something which finally brought full emotion from the pale-furred female.


    It wasn¡¯t the fact that the claimed bond was critically injured, nor that he purportedly sought to put another species before himself, but the weight in the voice of the defective sent a shiver down the brown-furred male¡¯s spine. Her vacant expression did little to dull the shattered shards of sanity in her widened pupils, her gaze drifting off as if she was forced to view the scene for a second time, each horrid detail still haunting her.


    It was so¡­unnerving to witness the slow awakening from her despondency, only to watch as she crumbled word by word. Just a glance at his assistant was enough to see how unsettled she was by it as well, and he was sure he didn¡¯t appear much better. It was made worse by the defect¡¯s faltering volume, her utterances waning until they were mere breaths given phonetic shape.


    ¡°The enemy survived the initial shot?¡± he prodded gently, his claw going numb from how hard he was pressing the intercom. The pale-furred female blinked, snapping out of her thoughts and staring at the dividing one-way wall with a hollow regard. Only the flicker of pain in her eyes told that she had heard him at all. He allowed her a breath to respond, though it became apparent she would need some coaxing. ¡°By your description of the damage done and vague physiology, it would appear that such would be impossible.¡±


    Illia furrowed her brow in skepticism now that he had pointed out a notable flaw, otherwise nodding her agreement with his conclusion. Were a Lilhun to have a hole punched through their abdomen large enough to easily fit both arms into, then it would be a medical miracle for the recipient to live long enough to notice their impending demise. Just the implication that such beings could not only survive such an event¡­but to retaliate despite it? That was enough to requisition a full summary of the United Military¡¯s intel on the species of the Union, in addition to sparking a full review of the gathered reports.


    ¡­Perhaps it was enough to send a request to the¡­less official party investigating these matters as well. None wished to petition the Scales, but some values were worth the sacrifice.


    The defective''s face darkened at being dragged from her melancholy, a wince pulling at her muzzle as she tore the wound in her stomach open once more. She folded her paws atop the table and paused to think before responding, her reply coming soft but clipped. ¡°Tell me, High Quesitar, were I not a female of your kin, but an unknown of only visually comparable form, would you be surprised to find my heart located elsewhere?¡±


    Heroon frowned, but considered it, relenting with a short sigh. ¡°I suppose not.¡±


    ¡°What if I were to have multiple, or none at all?¡±


    He only hummed into the microphone in acquiescence, more curious than annoyed by the aside.


    The STO inclined her head in agreement. ¡°I do not know the specifics of its biology, though my assumption was much the same as your own. I saw the viscera of the alien splattered across the corridors; its foul offal permeated throughout the air. There was no doubt in my mind that my bond had disposed of his assailant. Still, I did not verify his kill, despite knowing that he was woefully inexperienced. I was¡­distracted by his superficial injury. I was¡­negligent¡­ It was in that negligence that the enemy found weakness.¡±


    The High Quesitar exhaled audibly, mulling over her words and the readouts before letting the critical tension bleed from his shoulders. ¡°I understand. Apologies.¡±


    ¡°You understand?¡± Illia echoed judgmentally, subtle anger entering her inflection. His placating retort was halted by the contained one, the still-pressed intercom transmitting his assistant''s tactless interruption.


    ¡°Was I unclear?¡± she asked, a brittle smile failing to hide how desperately she was grasping at the excuse to delay the inevitable.


    Heroon¡¯s venomous glare quieted his den-mate¡­


    ¡°My perplexion stems from the need to offer apols to the confined at all.¡±


    ¡­Or, it should have. It seemed that the beige-furred female had found an opportunity to air her grievances, and nothing short of physical intervention would stop her.


    The defect deflated just a bit more, the fading facade of personability shaking her defeated voice. ¡°I would assume my condition is the driving force behind that mentality.¡±


    Illia¡¯s scowl displayed her open disdain, the subtle disgust becoming blindingly obvious in her cadence. ¡°You dare to assume my reasoning? It would be through my superior¡¯s magnanimity that we are humouring your fictitious ramblings at all; why must he stand stiff for one of the Goddess¡¯ loathed?¡±


    The High Quesitar twitched, barely suppressing his irritation as he released the button. ¡°Assistant Ques¡ª¡±


    Illia¡¯s paw shot out, depressing the intercom once more, ignoring his attempt to reign her in through her building vigour.


    ¡°¡ªYou purport a bond of all things! Not only that, but with an alien! You expect us to believe that you had smuggled explosive compounds into the facility itself? Even if we were to assume they were so flagrantly inept in their screenings as to overlook it, and assuming you survived the level of excessive blood loss and stimulant abuse as stated, you have yet to produce any quantifiable evidence! Now, your supposed ¡®bond¡¯ is conveniently maimed at the height of your tale¡ªin dramatic fashion, no less¡ªall to serve your narrative and further these grave implications.


    ¡°This is not an accusation to be made lightly, low one. You would do well to cease your senseless babbling and submit, as those of your ilk are meant to. The results of this interrogation might very well destabilize the nascent relations which will lead us further into the stars, yet you persist in your far-fetched fantasy of espionage and unlikely allies, mentioning hallucinations and instability in the same breath as inconceivable events. Your words, defect, are delusional to an outside observer at best. I know not what you think to be listening, but if it were fools, then you have conveyed that well enough.¡±


    Her fist banged against the table. ¡°If this absurdity is what we are to expect from your testimony, then it is by naught but the Hunt Mother¡¯s amusement, and our obligations, that we tolerate your drivel, for she has undoubtedly forsaken your kind. Especially if this is how you intend to garner attention. You should have disappeared from the base and remained forgotten.¡±


    ¡°That is enough,¡± he asserted more firmly.


    Yet the beige-furred female ignored him, lowering her voice and pouring open hostility through her sneer. ¡°Go on, then; regale us with what happened next. What inane fantasy will you conjure? What became of your beloved ¡®bond?¡¯¡±


    Heroon suppressed his shock and the snarl that was pulling at his muzzle. He knew Illia was opinionated and pointlessly stubborn at times, but never would he have suspected she would shirk professionalism so blatantly, and never while carrying out her duties. Defect or not, they were explicitly tasked with taking the confined¡¯s statement, scouring it for every detail which might concretely confirm or deny the allegations. They were ordered to by those far superior to themselves, and disobeying that order was tantamount to challenging the authority behind it. Forget the repercussions she would face if such became known; her misconduct would come back on all of those in their den.


    ¡°You. Will. Be. Silent,¡± he barked, his outrage making each word louder than the last. His fur stood bristled, his tail flicking in barely withheld ire. Every instinct pushed him to bring the dissident female into line. She was his responsibility, the den-pack was his responsibility, and he couldn¡¯t allow her to beckon ruin over something so trivial.


    Ignorant to the sheer scale of her folly, Illia''s stunned expression morphed into defiance, her scowl broadcasting all he needed to know about how betrayed she felt by him taking the defective''s ¡®side.¡¯ She was blind to what her self-righteous outburst welcomed. He would need to correct that.


    His paw shot out and grabbed her by the wrist, a vicious growl ripping past his bared teeth as he wrenched her close. The beige-furred female stiffened from the forceful contact, only a token effort to free herself given before it registered that he was no longer simply requesting her compliance. Her ears folded against her head as her tail glued itself to her spine. Widened eyes stared at him with an equal mix of fear and subservience. If she was unaware of just how grievous her blunder was, he would¡ª


    ¡°¡ªblood¡­¡± the defect whispered, the sudden crackle of the speakers making the interrogators freeze.


    Heroon exhaled slowly and loosened his grip, his glower telling the assistant that the matter was not one to be forgotten. Thankfully, she had been cowed enough to simply obey when he jabbed a claw back towards her equipment, the female quietly seating herself without further complaint, though she did so rather meekly. He put aside the subtle guilt in his chest as he did the same, turning his attention back to the transparent wall and the one contained within.


    He almost wished he hadn¡¯t.


    The defect stared at the pads of her paws, her arms trembling as terror marred her visage, tears pooling in her eyes. If her previous expressions had been present, then the mind-shattering horror on display was a blinding neon sign in comparison. Her stare was unfocused, burning a hole into something lost within the past. A choked dampness strangled her voice.


    ¡°There was so much blood¡­ I-I tried¡­ I tried so hard to¡­ H-he could barely walk, though he could manage as long as I assisted in supporting his weight. The third level held clinics, according to the map. It would have concoctions for his kind. My medications might have killed him. We didn''t know, and it wasn¡¯t worth the risk. I-it wasn¡¯t far from the freight elevator¡­ We could make it¡­¡±


    He swallowed heavily. ¡°You failed to?¡±


    Trembling paws covered her face as she forced staccato breaths to steady herself. ¡°T-the reinforcements found us as we approached the elevator. I needed to separate from him over and over, fending off our pursuers until we could continue. Charges bought time, but not enough¡ªthere were too many junctions to trap all of them, and he was bleeding out too quickly.


    ¡°H-he worried about me, ignoring his own pain to assess if I had been injured every time I returned. It was only my insistence that he allowed me to tear my garments and fashion a stopgap measure for his wound. He cared more for me than himself¡­ Suffering and hurt, he still cared¡­¡±


    Heroon hesitated. ¡°¡­The elevator?¡±


    Her arms dropped to her lap, any liveliness that had been gained evaporating. Her voice was cold as one of her claws skimmed over a barely sealed gash above her eye.


    ¡°They rigged the platform. I noticed, and I was adept at disabling the charges¡­but I had failed to consider another trap in the loading bay of the third level. We were so close, yet I missed that single explosive. It was doubtlessly the remnant of a changed order that they hadn¡¯t bothered to move in their haste. It lacked a proper shrapnel or chemical payload, rendering it little more than a means of delivering concussive force. The tripwire wasn¡¯t even properly set up¡ªbarely attached to the mechanism itself, really¡­ But it was still attached. It still caught on his foot. It still only took one mistake¡­¡±


    Her head hung low, her cadence weak and remorseful. ¡°I awoke crumpled at the base of a wall. I do not know how long I was unconscious, only that he still was, and that his wound hadn''t the kindness to wait¡­¡±


    = = = = =


    Sunundra panted heavily as she dragged Bill into the isolated clinic, staining the pure white tile with every laboured tug of his shirt and panted breath.


    The bomb hadn¡¯t been as bad as it could have been, but they still suffered for it. He was still unconscious after striking his head, though he suffered little else. She received mostly superficial scrapes and a few slivers of metal that were easy enough to dislodge once she managed to shake off the daze. If it wasn''t for the crimson pooling beneath him, she might have been indignant at the pitiful excuse of a bomb. As it was, she could only struggle to drag him to their destination and hope that the few charges she left on the elevator would serve as enough of a delay for Bill to be treated.


    Unfortunately, it was only a matter of how long before they were found again, rather than if they would be. If she was swift, and if there were suitable materials left over, she could tend to the worst of her own injuries as well; they were starting to hamper her effectiveness.


    Blood poured down her face from a gash above her left eye, blinding it before dripping onto the floor and joining the smearing crimson from the male who lay limp in her grasp. She didn¡¯t recall what caused it, so something had likely been thrown in the blast. It didn¡¯t matter now.


    A kick slammed the clinic door closed behind them, followed by the laughably pathetic mechanical lock engaging with a click. She spat out the iron taste in her mouth and scanned the new area for what she had to work with.


    An elevated platform sat in the centre of the room, likely for patients to occupy while being seen. Standing cabinets and mounted countertops lined the walls, their glass partitions separating the contents from open air and needlessly curious paws. Numerous compounds and medications lay behind locked cupboards and thick shields, labelled in various scripts, though none that she could read. She would just have to hope that smell was enough to identify what they were.


    Something in here had to be of use. Something had to help. She needed it to. She was running out of time. He was running out of time.


    A few more grunts and strenuous pulls brought them close enough for her to lift his unresponsive form on top of the platform. It was almost too high for her to actually do it, but there wasn¡¯t much choice; she couldn''t properly apply treatment if he remained on the floor, nor was she confident that she would be able to get back up when she was done. Her injured leg was shaking and numb, burdened far beyond what it could sustain¡ªeven if it hadn¡¯t been pierced by a ballistic projectile and then hastily cauterized. Carrying the human male had been too much for her to handle. She wasn¡¯t strong enough to pick herself up again, let alone lift a male twice her weight.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    But he needed her to be.


    She crouched, feeling spasms in her limbs that were promptly ignored. Her arms worked into position beneath his, a deep breath shuddering down her dry throat in preparation. Never had she wished the training regime she adhered to was more intensive, yet as she steadied herself, she could already tell this was a feat of strength that would come with a heavy toll.


    Mend. Quickly.


    A tooth chipped under the pressure of her clenched jaw. No more wasting time. She was fine with crippling herself if it was for him. Anything for him.


    One¡­ Two¡­ Th¡ª


    A pained cry left her muzzle as she powered through, the muscles in her stomach tearing further under the strain. She felt the gaping wound in her abdomen dampen, yet she managed to stand with her bond¡¯s full weight in her arms. An unsteady step brought him back onto the examination table, a second push edging his legs up as well. She caught herself on the cool metal table before she could collapse to the floor, both of her legs buckling the moment they were free of the additional burden. A free paw braced against the faltering limbs to ease the strain.


    Then the burst of adrenaline subsided.


    A shrill shriek of agony slipped out as a suffering whine for mercy, the blinding pain swallowing the edges of her vision. Her stomach felt as if it was being mauled by the ruthless teeth of logging machinery, while her legs were consumed by localized infernos, leaving the tips of her extremities violently numb. Her consciousness wavered, threatening to tumble out of her grasp¡ªand with it, the agony and turmoil. It promised release, even if it would cost her everything. It tempted her with seductive suggestions that her meaningless flailing in the waters of life might end. The haze was so welcoming¡­


    No.


    But she couldn¡¯t.


    Mend him. Quickly.


    She tensed, a claw piercing well into the flesh of her good leg. Then two.


    Distract her nervous system. Redirect the focus. It was too soon to give up. Not after how much she''s been through. Keep going. Her bond needed her.


    The two punctures widened as she curled her paw, a swift tug ripping open a gory seam along her thigh¡ªtoo shallow to greatly impede her, but more than enough to wash out the overwhelming torture that was everything else. A sharp sting of clarity followed the new source of suffering.


    Fix him. Hurry. Now.


    She forced herself upright, fighting back the blackness creeping in on her as she shrugged off her bag and hastily injected herself with a cocktail of medications¡ªfrom coagulants to the high dosage painkillers. A stimulant tablet quickly joined the fray, clearing the mental fog just a bit more.


    Her eyes focused on Bill. His gunshot wound had been left untreated for too long. It trickled ichor at a steady rate, despite her attempt to pack the hole with fabric from her shirt. The patch had fallen out at some point. If nothing else, she needed to replace it. With what? The rest of her top was a mess of filth and caustic chemicals, while her pants were even less of a candidate. The spread of storage in the clinic should offer a suitable solution, if only until she found a way to seal it.


    Sunundra lurched towards a standalone cabinet next to the rest of the wall-mounted ones, catching herself on the countertop. She tugged on handles, divots, and whatever else she could reach, frustration mounting with every attempt being denied by hidden latches.


    Locked. Locked. Locked. Locked. Locked. Locked.


    She growled, punching the solid glass to no avail. Panic crept up from beneath her irritation, whispering how dire her bond¡¯s condition was.


    Of course, it was all shut away; why wouldn¡¯t it be? There was limited time before the enemy found them, and surely there was a video transmission device tucked away in one of the walls for some heinous security guard to view. This was all some sick entertainment for them, watching a defect toil meaninglessly in a struggle to save the gift she should have never had.


    Her paws gripped the edge of the storage rack. Why couldn¡¯t she open it? Why was everything trying to stop her? Why!?


    Her rage manifested as a yell, the standing cabinet pulled off its axis and careening towards the ground with a bang as it crashed against the door. She grimaced at the result, reaching for the next storage. At least the blockage should stall the enemy, if only a little. Her paw pulled the nearest handle, ready for its rejection and to dismiss it.


    It creaked without further protest. Unlocked.


    The cupboard door slammed open, the shelves inside holding rows and rows of bottles, syringes, and capsules stored in plastic containers. All of it was swept to the floor in her search. Nothing. She switched to trying the drawers, opening the first one and finding much the same. There were more items that she had no frame of reference for, alongside strange metal tools nested amongst ones that were actually identifiable¡ªaltered variants of things she had used in the field. Forceps, scissors, surgical wire, needles, and¡­gauze. Her paw snapped out, clutching the last item before stumbling back to Bill. His shirt peeled wetly off his skin, the sucking hole spilling some of the pooled blood. She glanced back at the drawer and thought better of simply packing the wound again; there was no certainty of how long it would last, even if she did a better job this time. And unlike before, she had the tools to do something more thorough.


    The needles, wire, and something that smelled like an antibacterial cream joined the growing pile on the table. Stitching it closed wouldn¡¯t undo the damage, but it would stop it from worsening until they could seek proper medical treatment. She shakily threaded the fine metal line through a needle and tied it off. It was a little primitive, but it would have to do. She pinched the edges of the raw flesh together, a sense of confusion and uncertainty bubbling beneath the surface as she pierced his skin for the first of many times.


    ¡°W-where¡­?¡± Bill¡¯s groggy question was punctuated by a sharp inhale and a raspy groan of pain, his attempt to sit up and orient himself halted by a firm paw pushing him against the cool metal surface, though it was worryingly easy to stop him. Panic swelled through the bond.


    ¡°We are safe,¡± she assured him. Or, she tried to. In reality, having him awake during such a concentration-demanding task complicated matters.


    Whereas she was overjoyed that he was up, a dark tide flooded through her system to the point where she almost collapsed where she stood. She didn''t know why, but she also didn''t have the luxury of pondering it. A sense of urgency screamed in her ears.


    ¡°B-be still. We have reached the clinic, and I am tending to your wound. Forgive me, but I will be as quick as I can.¡±


    She didn¡¯t wait for his reply. Another stitch was met with another hiss of discomfort, but the male remained compliant as she continued.


    Yet something was still¡­wrong. She barely noticed it at first, but a pool of dread in the back of her mind rose with each passing moment, the warning pushed aside again and again until it would be delayed no longer.


    The trembling motions of her treatment allowed far too much of a lull between passes. She was slowing down to steady herself, lest her attempts cause more harm than good. Her claws felt more numbed with every passing moment. Dulled sensation crawled up her paws to her wrist, then further at a languid pace, leaving static in its wake until that too ceased. Her feet were much the same. Why did it feel harder to breathe, yet her lungs drew air without difficulty? Why did she feel cold, yet the warmth of her pads never seemed to diminish?


    ¡°¡ªshine?¡±


    Her mind felt clouded and slow, yet thoughts passed freely, swirling around the shadows of disconnected troubles that never were.


    ¡°¡ªgoing to be okay¡­?¡±


    Sunundra blinked away the tears, confused as to what had prompted them. She was treating him! They would clean the wound, patch the worst of her own afflictions, then take shelter somewhere safe to plan their next move. Why did it feel hopeless? Why was she crying?


    A tug finalized the last stitch, sealing the hole beneath his rib and allowing her to apply the antibacterial cream. After that, it was just a matter of covering it, finding suitable painkillers for him, and then all would be well. She should have been relieved to see the issue dealt with, but that feeling of wrongness persisted, and it only took another moment before the subtle details nagged at her.


    The numbness had spread up her arms and legs, a chilling absence of warmth slowly permeating throughout her core. Every beat of her heart felt weaker than the last, yet her self-assessment returned about as expected. Why did she feel so worn? If it was the side effect of her medications, then she could deal with it. If it was the result of her overexertion, then she would accept it with pride. Still, they needed to get going again¡ªif not to truly escape, then at least to bide time. She ignored the oddities in her body and donned a fragile confidence as she looked at her bond¡­but it shattered just as quickly.


    Bill¡¯s lips were discoloured, erring towards a purplish hue. His pinkish skin had paled considerably. His eyes slowly wandered the ceiling, though never focusing, the glassy reflection of the lights having little impact on how dilated his pupils were. His chest shuddered and strained with effort for every forced breath, each being used to speak through whispers as tears of his own trailed past his temples. The fear he once withheld had grown to mar his visage with reluctance and worry, only getting worse as he choked down air with increasing difficulty.


    ¡°Bill?¡± She dropped the needle and metallic thread, the scissors that were about to snip the line clattering against the floor. Both of her ears pitched forward, straining to hear the raspy exhalations of aspirated words too soft for the translator to pick up. Her call for him brought a moment of lucidity in the male, his straying gaze settling on her as she stumbled closer, cursing herself for being so weakened.


    ¡°¡­I¡¯m sorry,¡± he wheezed, his wane grin failing to stymie the flow of sorrow trickling down his skin. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have believed them. I should have pushed to find out what happened when they said the section collapsed. I should have done everything I could to get to you.¡±


    The sentiment warmed her very soul, yet it did nothing to stop the glacial cold from progressing throughout her system. It did nothing to stop the pervasive numbing that crept up her flesh. It did nothing to stop the wrongness. She pressed a paw to his cheek anyway, internally furious with the conflicting sensations, rubbing the moisture off his face with a gentle caress.


    ¡°We are together now; that is all that matters,¡± she assured him. She rubbed at her face to remove both blood and sadness which blurred her vision. Bill glanced at the gash above her eye with worsened guilt.


    ¡°You keep getting hurt. It¡¯s my fault. If I had just¡ª¡±


    The pale-furred female silenced him with a claw, somehow keeping her trembling under control¡ªbut only just. ¡°I would endure it a hundred more times if I might finally have the one who I desire most.¡±


    His wet laugh drew a hoarse cough, the recovering inhale taking a moment to work.


    ¡°We must get ready to leave,¡± she urged as gently as she could. The primal sense of dread clawed its way up from the depths of the unknown. Pinpricks of unease sank deep into her skin. ¡°W-we are to rescue the others, no?¡±


    Tendrils of the Void played and taunted her from the shadows¡ªmocking her. Why? Why was it so cold? Why had her pain faded, only to be replaced by the deadened perception of emptiness? Why did it feel like her heart was struggling to push even one more drop of blood?


    Bill¡¯s regard turned hazy, his arm lifting only the slightest amount before it thumped uselessly against the table. Regret shadowed his face, a remorseful smirk taking its place. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t think I can.¡±


    An unwanted nervous giggle slipped out of her, the trembling in her limbs intensifying. She got an arm under his back, trying and failing to lift him up. ¡°O-of course you can. You wished to help them, no? We¡­ We should hurry. I will assist you as much as you need, but you must get up first.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­¡±


    The facade of a smile remained, but her horror showed through building dampness and manic denial in her tone, the forced laugh shaking her voice as realization hammered against the wall she placed between her and reality. He was cold. He was so, so cold. Cold enough to match the frigid ice that had replaced her warmth and numbed her senses. Cold enough to bring his ichor to the same slurry she felt coursing through her veins. His breathing sounded as if it was held by the same weight she felt pressing against her chest, crushing her very lungs.


    ¡°Bill, this is not the time for jests. You must get up. Quickly, b-before the enemy finds us.¡±


    ¡°You should go,¡± he whispered in response, the tension in his jaw belying how difficult it was for him to remain conscious. His eyes drifted and refocused, the apologetic tint becoming more prominent with every lapse. ¡°Get help.¡±


    The smile fell. She tried even harder to sit him upright, only marginally aware of the tearing it caused her various injuries. It was like hearing them through countless walls¡ªmuffled and indistinct¡ªas though she was experiencing only a memory that had faded.


    ¡°This¡­ This is far from humorous, Bill,¡± she warned, her shoulder giving out without telling her why. Not that it could; nothing persisted through the numbing veil now. It was all she could do to hear his voice and feel the phantom heart beside her own weaken with every pulse. It was so cold. ¡°Y-you wished them saved! You wished to reunite with your kits as one they could take pride in!¡±


    His eyelids fluttered, a war with exhaustion pulling them lower before being pushed open once more. The bond reflected the effect of her words, though warped and faded. The guilt and fear were overshadowed by regret and longing, his expression following suit.


    Her stomach sank. Why was it so distant now? Why was it not overwhelming her?


    ¡°They made it with me barely there, Sunshine. They¡¯ll be okay.¡±


    ¡°You do not believe that!¡±


    His faltering display of reassurance crumbled at her shouted refusal, his eyes reflecting a haggard, injured, and now snivelling female, her scowl failing to compensate for her shaking form and silent weeping. She looked no different than she did so many years ago upon hearing that her den wished no more of her; hurt, inconsolable, and completely terrified of being alone.


    He let out a trembling laugh, devoid of mirth and energy. ¡°I can hope.¡±


    ¡°Get up,¡± she pleaded, grabbing his paws and holding them tight. Why couldn¡¯t she feel his touch? ¡°Even if we fail to save the others, we might at least reunite with your kits, no? If nothing else, you saved me. Does that not count for something? Will they not celebrate your deed?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± His voice wavered, a gasp for air proving to be barely enough. It proved harder and harder for him to speak, his lungs unable to keep up with what he wished to say. ¡°I can¡¯t, Sunshine. I can¡¯t¡­save you. I can¡¯t¡­help the others. I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t¡­¡±


    A sob broke his false confidence, fracturing any semblance of denial she had left as she watched her bond sob between rapidly diminishing breaths.


    ¡°I can¡¯t¡­see them again. I can¡¯t see¡­if they¡¯re going to¡­be okay. I can¡¯t be there to¡­offer advice when¡­they have their first kid¡­¡± Her bond shunted his eyes closed, yet it did nothing to stop the flood of melancholy pooling on the table, nor her own. ¡°I wanted¡­ I wanted to be there. I promised her I would. I promised¡­I¡¯d be there for them¡­¡±


    Glassy eyes revealed themselves, his rounded pupils fixated on her, the gallows humour tinting his sardonic mirth. ¡°I guess the pairing pass was¡­a waste of time, huh?¡±


    Her ear flicked in recognition. ¡°P-pairing?¡±


    His slow nod bled off much of the emotion on his face. ¡°Applied as soon as¡­I left. I wanted to¡­take you back. Have you¡­meet the boys.¡±


    Sunundra choked on the nothing that spread with such slow finality, resting her head on his chest and letting the fabric of his shirt absorb her helplessness. ¡°Why?¡±


    Only an ember remained of the once roaring bonfire that was the bond, flickering its dimming light in defiance of the infinite darkness closing in. The steady drum that gave him life now beat too sparingly¡ªtoo weakly. She could feel it herself, the grasp of the endless eternity slithering across the white tiles of their small sanctum of temporary safety. It was coming for him, hungry and merciless.


    Why couldn¡¯t she hear the static? Why not the voices? Why? Why was she so numb? Why were her lungs struggling to function? Why couldn¡¯t she feel his influence?


    She crawled atop the table, hurriedly shielding him with her body as best she could, claiming his wrist with her tail and stroking his cheek, her voice cracking as she tried to keep a soothing tone. ¡°Bill? Why would you wish that? Why meet them? Why me?¡±


    It didn¡¯t matter what the response was, only that he gave one. Only that he offered just a little more. Only that he stayed.


    He forced down a breath and swallowed, letting his eyes close when the struggle to keep them open became too much. ¡°Because they''d love to meet you¡­and you should know¡­what it¡¯s like to be around¡­people who care¡­ People who love you.¡±


    The answer knocked down any chance of preparing herself. Fragile shields crumpled, mirrors of self-deception shattered, and she was left exposed as the terrified kit she was. The pale-furred female buried herself into him, no longer caring if her voice was shrill and worn, nor if she needed to be strong.


    ¡°I do. I do, because of you. A life of rejection could never prepare me for what you offered this horrid soul so readily, nor how much I would give to keep it. Please, stay and allow this foolish female her avarice. Let her bathe in the glow of what she was never meant to have!¡±


    One pump of the heart beneath her embrace echoed in her ears. A softened breath was pulled into his fatigued lungs, his temperature falling lower. Two pumps. A scratchy exhalation. He was so cold, but she would be his warmth. She would protect him from the Void. She would give all that she was. She would give anything and everything for just a little longer.


    Three pumps¡­


    Four¡­


    She waited, the dread clutching her soul in its choking grasp. She could be patient. She could wait. He would be well. He must be well. He couldn¡¯t leave her. He wasn¡¯t ready for the bottomless abyss that awaited him if the Mother judged him unfit for her embrace. He needed her to be with him.


    Yet the fifth beat was taking too long. She shot up, barely supporting her weight above him as her paw gently jostled him. ¡°Bill? Bill, this is not the time to rest. We must leave soon; we have much to do. Bill?¡±


    Nothing. Nothing but the stillness of her heart that still pumped blood. Nothing but paralyzed lungs that drew breath freely. Nothing but the absence of sensation that could feel the lacking pulse beneath her pads. Nothing but the deafened ears that heard her despair drip against his skin, and blinded eyes that saw the unmoving form of the one who taught her love and gave her existence meaning.


    There was nothing.


    ¡°Bill, please. Please, speak¡­ Bill!¡±


    It was so cold. So numb. So empty. So wrong. So incomplete. So alone.


    The unrelenting reality cared not for her delusions. It cared not for all of her suffering. It cared not for what she had gone through to return to him. It cared not for what she endured for even the single fragment of happiness she finally had in her paws. It cared not that she had tried to save him. It cared not for the future she held onto so desperately.


    It cared not for her hope, nor her bond.


    It cared not if it was broken. If she was broken.


    ¡°No¡­ No, no, no. Bill¡­ Wake up¡­ Wake up!¡±


    Yet he would never answer.


    ¡°Bill!¡±


    Yet he would never call her his Sunshine.


    ¡°Please¡­¡±


    Yet he would never hear her¡­ But perhaps another might¡­


    She let herself drop, holding him as tightly as she could, fervent and trembling prayer pouring from the devout who placed faith above all for so, so many years, and needed that devotion repaid now more than ever.


    ¡°O-O¡¯Mother of this soul, your faithful wishes for forgiveness for her t-transgressions, for she has committed them in ignorance. Your faithful implores you not to have her gift stripped by the actions of another, and beseeches you to smile favourably for the one who has never strayed from the teachings. Your faithful begs for you to take pity on her and the one who she has come to cherish, and will pay any price! Y-your faithful grovels in contrition, unknowing of how she might make amends. Your faithful seeks a path to repentance, no matter the cost! Please, show mercy for this pitiful kit of yours who has been cast aside by her kin, then found acceptance from another not of her own! Please allow your faithful to atone!¡±


    Yet there was nothing. There would never be anything again.


    ¡°O¡¯Mother¡­please¡­¡±


    The pale-furred female curled atop the only reason she had to live, wracking sobs and keening wails leaving her a trembling mess as she tried to give warmth to the male who was far too cold, and who she was trying so hard to keep. The one who she loved so deeply, yet had never heard her say it.


    ¡°Please, don¡¯t take him¡­¡±


    The one who was her everything.


    ¡°He¡¯s all I have left¡­¡±


    And now, she had nothing.

 Chapter 16

    Thump.


    The door to the clinic shook yet again, as it had been wont to do for some time. The cabinet rattled slightly, the locks and thick glass keeping its contents from spilling out onto the floor. How long the attempts to enter had been going on for was a mystery; only some wisp of lucidity even noticed it happening at all.


    Thump.


    It seemed the frame was reinforced, which made sense for a room designed to treat the injured. Barring structural requirements, were one to awaken here, it wouldn¡¯t be unexpected for at least a single instance of confusion to necessitate stronger walls and locks.


    Thump.


    Would that mean it utilized an unknown alloy? Perhaps it was constructed with some sort of alien technique that rendered her explosives inert or useless?


    Thump.


    Did it really matter?


    Thump.


    No, not really. It was only a matter of time until whatever was keeping them out would give way, and then her life would join the list of things taken from her.


    Thump.


    The last vestige of interest waned, Sunundra¡¯s focus dissipating entirely. There was nothing worth thinking about anymore. There was no reason left. Only cold. Only the warmth that bled from her body, feeding one who would never again reciprocate it. Only the broken form which lay beneath her curled existence¡­


    Numb. Cold. Alone.


    Broken.


    Tears had ceased, her cries gone unheard by both the Mother and reality. The shaking stopped, for even that was too strenuous an activity for the one waiting for the Void to claim her as well. Her sorrow had vanished.


    Or, more accurately, there was nothing but sorrow, and thus it became all she knew, as opposed to an aberration.


    She was numbed in mind and body. She was cold in both flesh and soul. She was alone.


    Her bond was broken.


    And so was she.


    Sterile white walls contrasted crimson-smeared floors. Silver metal lay stained with vermilion. Her grey and yellow fur had long since been matted with deep reds and mottled orange. Everything carried evidence of their struggle¡ªtheir futile attempts to persist. Everything touted her failure as a mark of inadequacy, surrounding her with bloodied hues of laughter and mockery. The shadows that waited under overhanging countertops crawled outward into the open, absorbing the light as it crept closer and closer.


    They taunted her, the tendrils reminding her how little effort they spared in slipping past her attempts to shield her other, stealing him from her pitiful grasp. Now, they meandered along the edges of her periphery, flicking and swaying as they made their languid hunt towards the unmoving and unresponsive, toying with their prey and enjoying her despondency. Soon enough, they would claim her, no matter how long it would take. Either they would cut and crush her from the inside, or the enemy would dispose of her with a spray of weapons fire. She could save time and suffering by ending it herself, of course¡­


    ¡­But she didn¡¯t want to leave him. She didn¡¯t want him to be cold. She didn¡¯t want him to be alone. She would fall to the Void with him in her arms, hoping that he felt her devotion while he waited, and that he was warmed by her embrace, knowing not to stray too far. Otherwise, they might be separated in the endless eternity.


    Perhaps the Hunt Mother had smiled upon him, bestowing access to her Great Hunt as a guest. He would likely balk at the idea of exercising vengeance against his foes for eternity, though he might find solace in being welcomed amongst the pack of the valiant.


    ¡®A gift to the abandoned,¡¯ he would be titled. ¡®A kin of different form,¡¯ they would call him. And Sunundra would be denied his presence, standing outside the silver brickwork of the Lunar Fortress and the joys within. The Mirrors would reflect nothing, for that was what she became. The Scale would never judge her offerings as enough. The Smoke would obscure her view, and the Torch would never light the way. The Stars would never share their knowledge of where she went wrong.


    She would be as she always was, rejected and discarded, while Bill would be pitied by the beloved for suffering her presence, and the misfortune of being gifted to a defective. Generations upon generations would offer him respite and companionship in return. He was kind, if strange; they would understand. He would be cherished by them. He would be loved, receiving affection endlessly as he adjusted and smiled with his new pack. He would be happy.


    She would be too, as long as he was.


    Would he pause and gaze into the distant fields, wondering when she was to join him? Or would he forget her, immersed in more than she could ever provide? More than she was going to give¡­


    ¡®They could have a den with just the two of them,¡¯ she had thought, only now knowing what she would deprive him of. ¡®She might host his kits, gaining their approval and easing his mind,¡¯ was the plan, though it had become apparent how misguided that would be. ¡®He could learn skills for fulfilling employment,¡¯ amongst those who would scowl and detest him for the defective¡¯s scent lingering on his skin. ¡®They would live away from the cities,¡¯ where she would trap him unknowingly, robbing him of the meaning which came from an actual den-pack.


    Blinded by the light of gaining what she thought unobtainable, she was willing to limit him from having those very same comforts. Her preparations to enjoy the company of another would be at the cost of his everything. She was greedy, content with claiming him for herself, while never considering what he would be denied in her avarice. She had failed to treasure the gift, thinking she would be enough. Were it another defect who spent their life devoid of care, then perhaps she might be, but for one unafflicted? One who knew the affectionate touch of another, and who received smiles instead of scorn? No. All she would do is shackle him. She was foolish to think otherwise.


    And so, he was taken¡ªa penance for making light of the Mother¡¯s generosity.


    Thus, the pale-furred female lay atop the unmoving form of the one who showed her the difference between tolerant fondness and love, her ear pressed against his chest while her muzzle tilted up to nuzzle into his neck, inhaling the last of his deadened scent.


    She listened to the heart that would never beat, her own slowing to match. She felt the cold that would never warm, her temperature falling as well. She heard echoes of the breaths that would never again fuel his caring words, her lungs losing strength without him. She blearily gazed at the pale flesh that would never redden in that adorable way, and the lips which would never meet her own in that odd kiss, their differences making the connection all the more special. Her pads rubbed over the skin that would never shiver under her touch, and the dull claws that would never stroke her fur.


    Numb. Cold. Broken.


    Tired. She was tired of trying. She was tired of failing. She was¡­just tired. Tired and alone. Though, hopefully, not for much longer.


    The clinic faded behind her closing eyes. The end would come soon, and when it did, she would learn if he had been welcomed or discarded. If he awaited her, then she would have eternity to apologize for her worthlessness. If not¡­


    Well, she would drift, but he would be happy. He would have everything he deserved, and everything she had ever wanted. That was enough.


    She let the darkness take her.


    = = = = =


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    Heroon blinked, registering the criticism as his own a moment after saying it. Flares of indignation burned in his throat, irrational anger and doubt being restrained by careful breaths and tensed muscles. The defect lifted her gaze from the table, a shadow of a sardonic smirk pulling at her muzzle. It only made him more irritated, but the exact reason for why escaped him at the moment.


    ¡°You gave up?¡± he continued, though against his better judgment.


    ¡°Yet I live,¡± she replied weakly. A heavy guilt remained in her voice, but at least she was no longer nearly silent. It didn¡¯t do much to stop his scowl from deepening.


    ¡°If your objective was to convince me that your bond is true, then I believe that alone is what caused you to have failed. Few remain after having a primordial part of themselves torn from their soul, and fewer still do not seek to avenge it. Those who do not are unable to do more than writhe in agony until the Void lays its claim.¡±


    And history agreed with him. Although he had never bonded himself, it was a rare occurrence that most all strived to achieve, and those in positions such as his were required to know it well. There was a reason why separating bonds was considered a deplorable war crime; it is likely to cause civil unrest in the best of cases¡ªa revolt at worst.


    The knowledge that one¡¯s other half was being kept from them led to very similar occurrences as those described by the pale-furred female. In instances where they were unable to rectify such, those who were successfully restrained had been reported to have suffered greatly until expiring¡ªtypically from wounds that were self-inflicted or gained while trying to reunite with their bond. If the bond itself was forcibly broken, then it was a foregone conclusion that the remaining bonded would not willingly cease until any who were even tangentially related to the event were but corpses. Only then would they join their bond in what lies beyond.


    ¡®Broken¡¯ did not simply mean despondent; it often referred to the shackles of civility and reason which clattered to the ground, releasing a feral thirst for vengeance and blood. It alluded to what would become of those who had brought such release to begin with.


    ¡°There was nothing left to fight for,¡± the defective whispered airily.


    It was strange to be so dejected by the statement, but he silently chastised himself all the same, feeling his commiseration turn into a foundation of ire. He had been starting to truly accept that a defect might have bonded. Ah. That¡¯s what the feeling was: disappointment. He was disappointed in someone whose plight had gained his sympathy. Surprising as it was for a defect to be the target of such pity, he couldn¡¯t quite retain the neutral cadence he had used until now, slipping into a detached, if bitter drawl.


    ¡°So be it. Continue.¡±


    ¡°I have not uttered falsehood, High Quesitar.¡±


    ¡°Of course. You may continue.¡± He couldn¡¯t quite hide the dismissal in his voice, nor bring himself to much care for his monitoring equipment. The rest of this interrogation was going to be but a formality¡ªrecords held as proof they did as tasked.


    The female tightened her paws into fists. ¡°You must believe me¡­¡±


    Heroon exhaled. ¡°As I have stated, no bonded would be still when their bond has been removed by another. Say what you will, but that has been proven as fact time and time again.¡±


    Her form trembled, fresh ichor spilling onto the tabletop from clenched claws piercing her pads. Her fur bristled as her lowered gaze focused on the crimson streaks.


    ¡°I know not of others, high one, but I am viciously aware of what it is to lose one¡¯s self,¡± she hissed, pain and anger adding an edge to her clipped response. ¡°I have not lost a ¡®part¡¯ of myself, but the whole. I am what remains when one is broken so entirely¡­¡±


    She looked back at the dividing one-way wall, vexation pulling her lips into a small snarl as dampness shimmered in her eyes.


    ¡°¡­I learned what it was to have my heart stop, yet still have a pulse. To suffocate, yet still breathe. To be blinded, yet still see. To fall so cold, yet bleed warmth into the one who could never be warmed again.¡± The visage of simmering rage subsided, returning to a look of shaded suffering. ¡°I learned what it was to have my form shut down, system by system, while watching him fade in my embrace, unable to do a single thing to stop it¡­ There is no falsehood in saying that, High Quesitar. I learned what it was to die.¡±


    ¡°And yet you live,¡± he sighed, echoing her own words back at her. The bonds were potent, but far from enough to cause such overblown descriptions. They swayed emotions and opinions, but never with such force. They caused phantom sensations at times, but would never do as she claimed. Barring her sudden penchant for the dramatic, he was slowly finding himself in agreement with his assistant; the contained one seemed to have gone mad some time ago.


    The defect nodded listlessly, that singular flicker of hope in her eyes giving life to an otherwise decayed expression. ¡°Technically, yes.¡±


    The wry humour in her voice had him raising a brow in morbid curiosity. ¡°Technically?¡±


    She smiled at them¡ªa weak and fragile smile, but a smile all the same.


    = = = = =


    It was dark. It was always dark, in a way, yet she knew this darkness would persist. She could travel for as long as she liked, until even her ashes could move no more, and she would never find an end to the crushing black expanse. It would always be black.


    So, she drifted, letting the tides of nothing carry her where they wish. There was no reason to fight it anymore. There was no reason to question it. There was no reason to be anymore.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    She had failed to protect the only one she had.


    The nothing continued, though she couldn¡¯t tell how long she allowed the current to drag her along. Not that she deserved to know, nor would she be able to in the first place. All she gleaned from the infinity awaiting her was that it was overseen by a malevolent force, because the endless darkness eventually did give way to something else; she just wished it didn¡¯t.


    Sunundra regarded the enclosure with a neutral expression, flexing her paw as she ignored the room from her youth. Her claws passed through the door, proving she was an ephemeral visitor of times since passed. Walking through it proved fruitless, leaving her to take in a place she would rather forget. It was a cruel joke, surely, to be locked away by herself where affection was but a twisted dream.


    Yet Sunundra wasn¡¯t alone.


    Small, unmoving, and curling her tail around herself in a pale imitation of an embrace, a grey and yellow-furred kit held her knees to her chest, staring at something that didn¡¯t exist in the confines of her sparse room. A bed lay perfectly made, the thin layer of dust coating its surface from when it was made so many moons ago. Old clothing populated long unopened drawers in a modular dresser, never having seen new additions for at least a year, and rarely being interacted with in the first place. The floor was in much the same condition as the furnishings, save for two spots that were slightly less unkempt¡ªthe spot where her younger self was, and another near the door. She remembered often pressing an ear to the barrier, pretending that the voices filled with affection would, one sun, be directed at her as well.


    They never were.


    That eventually changed¡ªor she believed at the time. Her blood-mother had apologized, teaching the neglected kit how to pray and what to ask for. It was the first time in a sea of isolation that the pale-furred offspring had smiled, the sensation straining underused muscles. The occasions where they petitioned the Goddess together were frequent at first, but slowly tapered off until she would spend their agreed upon moons sleeplessly waiting for the only kindness she knew to return.


    After it became apparent that only a sparse few of those moons would allow her to have willing company, she started praying on her own¡ªfirst on the planned suns, then beyond such. It soon became every moon that she absently gazed at nothing in particular while she spoke to the Mother. Maybe it was in an attempt to become ¡®good¡¯ at prayer so that her blood-mother would approve, but it became a heartfelt effort to have someone¡­anyone listen. Knowing that she was heard kept her sane. It taught her patience. It taught her how to be alone.


    ¡­Well, she thought so¡­


    There wasn¡¯t as much negligence in cleaning as there had once been¡ªa product of her den-father praising the neatness, then criticizing the dust. Though bitter and dismissive, they had been the most positive words the kit had heard in a long, long time, so she took it as a kind-hearted direction on how to improve. He never commented on it again, but she eagerly assumed that was good, and maintained it as best she could, though long stints of not seeing those of the den she lived in had finally worn down that misguided enthusiasm. Naught but a tray of food regularly left in front of her door assured her that she was not forgotten. It meant they still cared, even if she was unsure why they wouldn¡¯t speak with her anymore, nor why her presence outside the room made everyone so upset. Still, she tried to be tidy. She tried to be quiet. She tried to be good.


    Just as they liked it. Just as she should be.


    The door opened without a single knock, illuminating the darkened room. The kit¡¯s eyes snapped towards the intruder with a mixture of surprise and hope. Sunundra stared at the brightened face gazing through her as the details of the moon came to mind. As much as she wanted to, she knew nothing would come of trying to warn her past self. All she could do was watch.


    Her blood-mother stepped in excitedly, the broad smile needing no confirmation for the observer to remember every minute detail. Her blood-father and a den-father shared the same expression, though tinted with what she would come to know as manipulative amusement.


    Sunundra¡¯s throat dried as she watched the older Lilhun hug the kit, the small one frozen in shock and worry as good news poured into impressionable ears. Her arm reached out to stop the hated young from beaming with joy and disbelief when the two males joined to confirm that they were going on a trip to the church¡ªthat her condition would be cured, and how she would be included in the den¡¯s lives again. Her legs gave way as she rewatched the last time she had truly believed that suffering was temporary.


    The kit revelled in the touch of another, stunned by how warm and soft it was after so long without. The tiny one shed reluctant tears when she was told she was loved, forgetting what those words had sounded like. The gullible young took in the scents of various foods and places outside, not quite sure what was wrong as she indulged in the subtleties of where everyone had been while she was locked away, only that she could smell fine, and that the unseen problem would be fixed soon. The kit didn¡¯t notice the scornful glares of the males, the rapturous relief of the one who birthed her, nor the manic tone that coloured those promises.


    But Sunundra did, and she was powerless to stop her younger self from ever being deceived.


    - - - - -


    Idle chatter filled the nearby street, the dense population near the city centre filling walkways with their conversations until they came close. Their disdainful stares and venomous remarks went unacknowledged by a somewhat older kit, her paws on her lap as she dutifully watched from just beyond the steps of the church. Faithfuls gave her a wide berth as they passed, even though she had already moved several times in an attempt not to inconvenience others as much. The few that slowed to contemplate if they should shoo her away were met with a smile. It hadn¡¯t yet become as practised as it would eventually be, but it was a genuine display of her intention to be friendly. They ignored it as usual, scoffing before departing to complain to the priests about the filth polluting the air on sacred grounds, leaving her smile a little more strained each time.


    Sunundra stood behind the hopeful kit, watching hatred accumulate for one who only wanted to be visible when her den returned for her, regardless of the years it had been since she was abandoned. Chemical burns blackened the fringes of grey fur, most hidden behind the outdated clothing she was afforded or found hidden in the back of storage. An old notepad rested alongside her, doubtlessly filled with speculation and copied notation from the few books she owned, detailing potential chemical reactions or records of previous findings. The forefront of the pages were dedicated to powerful cleaning compounds that would eventually become the basis for most of her demolition charges.


    Sunundra allowed a wry smirk at how simple the transition had been, and how stubbornly optimistic the kit was determined to remain. She remembered how beaten those books were, and how hard she studied to understand them. She could recall the resentful way they were given to her¡ªa solution to her insistent requests to access the library¡ªbut she was so grateful that she burst into tears anyway, blind to the revulsion as she showered the dispassionate priest with gratitude.


    The moon graced the horizon after a fruitless wait and only a single rock being thrown, the kit having long since grown to accept that she would have to try again the next sun. Her den hadn¡¯t come, but there was less shouting to endure this time, and no one had forced the priests to come get her, so it was worth the attempt. It didn¡¯t stop the cracks in her facade, nor the swelling in her arm from where she was hit. Tears built in her eyes, but she slapped her cheeks and doubled down on her outward joy, appearing happy and welcoming, no matter how much it hurt.


    Just as she was taught. Just as they wanted. Just as she should be.


    The kit stood, stretching out to her diminutive height before collecting her things and staring at the restaurant across the street, her stomach painfully empty. A recent advertisement for the United Military in the window caught her attention. Sunundra recalled the words printed on it without looking, the promises of loyal packs and good intentions having been all she hoped for, and the lofty ambitions they claimed to offer were indeed provided.


    But not to her.


    The kit headed back to the church before she was disciplined for taking too long, ready for the routine of cleaning and studying. She would accidentally stumble across her first proper explosive that moon, then spend the remainder of it cleaning up the mess. A lock would be destroyed, having malfunctioned long ago and far too expensive to call a specialist for. The priests would begrudgingly thank her for what amounted to being reckless with dangerous chemicals, and careless with how she applied them. The aggressive lecture would be drowned out by the miniscule praise still ringing in her ears.


    The young defect would become enamoured with the craft, learning that there was more than violence to be achieved if she continued to explore her hobby. She would stop waiting by the steps for her den, convinced that she simply wasn¡¯t yet accomplished enough to be worth their attention. She needed to be better, make her den proud, and then they would welcome her back with open arms.


    And she had just the way to do it.


    The kit contacted a recruiter once she had a small variety of prototype charges, planning to show how useful she could be in search and rescue operations, or assist in clearing debris inside collapsed buildings. She was accepted.


    The reception of the other soldiers may have been cold, but she was regularly assigned to certain groups, so some came to cease their hostility and resign themselves to scarce words or wilful indifference. For a time, she was happy. Others spoke to her, regardless of how poisonous their tone was. She knew they appreciated what she could offer when they were deployed, even if they never actually voiced it. They learned of her schedule, and those who could tolerate her condition the most would weather her presence, allowing her inattentive company for her meals.


    It was more than she thought she deserved, and back then, she believed it the most she would ever get. It motivated her to try harder, create more specialized charges, and perfect the ones she already had. She gained a title besides ¡®defect¡¯ due to her efforts, and despite how ironic she found it to be, she was overjoyed to be called ¡®Demolitions.¡¯ Her ceaseless striving to be useful had been acknowledged.


    She never considered that her exploits would be noticed by higher stations, nor that accepting the honeyed promises would only lead to more hurt. She didn¡¯t think that her new moniker would become all she was allowed to be, and that her name would never be uttered by another. She left the church after thanking the priests for everything, receiving thinly veiled relief that she was too excited to hear.


    The pale-furred kit stopped being a person at some point. She became a solution to specific problems, and nothing else.


    But she was happy.


    Sunundra watched the delusional kit from afar for every fragmented event, wondering why she had never tried to swallow her own explosives long before she was given the chance to be shown how miserable she really was.


    - - - - -


    The pale-furred female stood stiff before the Third Claw of the United Military, a practical male who gazed at all beneath his station with the same hostility he afforded her. It made her feel normal, if only for a few moments. Being the smallest of the gathered unit was a fact that took some time to get used to, but it allowed her to place charges in spaces that others of her specialty couldn¡¯t. It made her uniquely effective on occasions, and was part of why she was in the presence of one so highly respected.


    Her legs burned from the full extension, her joints protesting how strenuous the limiting posture was¡ªa requirement for showing proper subservience, but tiring all the same. Her tail was pinned to her spine, pressing her black and red training uniform to her back, the recently singed fur exposing a small cut on the appendage. The most recent deployment had earned the attention of her superiors, and so the group was summoned to be inspected and tested. Her own examination went as silently as any other time someone was forced to check her health, but the ¡®test¡¯ had been an exercise in saving a ¡®civilian¡¯ from a simulated hostile stronghold.


    By herself.


    Of course, being that she had experience with getting others into wherever they needed to be during emergencies, her concern was doing so safely. After a quick examination of the structure''s exterior and likely floor plan, she made it to the captive in four well-placed explosives, with one smoke charge to cover her movements. No one had the chance to reveal if the weapons they equipped were loaded with training rounds or not, and she had never drawn her own to check. It was a bloodless success.


    The Third Claw started at the end of the line, summarizing the task and method of each soldier, as well as criticisms that the committee had regarding their performance. His voice was cold and threatening, though it became surprisingly warm when he was pleased by someone¡¯s result. He praised bravery, ingenuity, quick thinking, persistence, and in the case of an accident injuring the ¡®civilian,¡¯ he recommended a rank increase for a candidate who simultaneously treated their target¡¯s wounds while fending off the enemy.


    Sunundra leaned against the wall behind all those nervous soldiers, retrospectively seeing the dejection in those that failed to meet expectations, and the smug sense of malicious respite as the male drew near the defective. She saw the vicious grins as they leaned in to hear the specifics of how horribly the unwanted female had performed, then the blank expressions when the Third Claw simply said that she was in the wrong branch, ordering her promotion effective immediately. That stunned silence became bitter hatred when they discovered that she was being transferred to his chain of command, and it worsened when they couldn¡¯t find out where. They asked, but she didn¡¯t have an answer to provide.


    The pale-furred female¡¯s elation at receiving recognition for her efforts quickly sank when subjected to her unit¡¯s true feelings. Yet she held hope that it would be enough for her den to accept her.


    Then she was informed that she couldn¡¯t ever tell anyone of where she was being assigned, and would need to pass several routine checks to get leave in order to see them. She did, but they had moved away, leaving only the empty husk of a deprecated building behind.


    The last thing she held onto hope for wavered, caught by the layers upon layers of self-delusion and years of repeating the same prayers she was taught so long ago. She smiled, redirecting her efforts to making friends amongst the others, ignoring the buried hurt and knowing that she would only ever be ¡®Demo.¡¯ She persisted through the rejection and constant hostility, reasoning every chip out of her resolve as but one more thing she would need to become better at.


    Sunundra closed her eyes as the memory played, a pale-furred female jolting off her chair when a male spoke to her while she was mixing compounds aboard the ship. She clenched her fists as that male offered the defect his paw and helped her up, the pitiful demolitions expert falling smitten with what she thought to be a blindingly genuine smile.


    She fell quiet when that bright, excited female entered the cafeteria with hope shining in her eyes. She felt her stomach roll as the final crack in that fragile soul was made, the name she was to never give becoming a slur specifically for her. She was unable to stop the female from abandoning her post for an opportunity that would scar her more than suffering ever would.


    She had never been happy, but that¡¯s what made enduring through the years possible. It was why she was certain that she could never endure it again.


    She knew what it was to actually smile now, instead of merely donning a mask and platitudes to cover the agony. She knew what it was to feel another¡¯s touch beyond mandatory examinations. She knew what it was to hear her name said warmly, and to be subject to honest affections. She knew what it was to be welcomed, and not just delude herself into accepting the slightest tolerance as kindness.


    She knew what it was to love.


    She knew what it was to break.


    Yet, even as the Union shuttle lifted off of the unmanned flight pad and shot off into the sky, Sunundra hadn¡¯t even called out to the delusional female heading to meet that fate, nor had the urge to. She was surprised to feel a wistful smile on her face, knowing how treacherous the coming suns would be for the defect who entrusted her body to aliens in hopes of being fixed.


    Because, no matter how fictional it might be, that female would learn what it was to love as well. And for however short a time¡­


    ¡­She would truly be happy.


    Just as she should have always been.


    - - - - -


    Thump.


    The hazy scenes faded, leaving her in the endless darkness once more. She closed her eyes and brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her tail around herself as she had done so many times before. At least she had known it to be a pitiful emulation of the real thing since she was young; comparing this to how Bill held her would have just made it painful.


    She drifted in whatever vacantness this was in wait for the enemy or the Void itself to lay claim to her demise. She wasn¡¯t sure if it would be different, nor if it mattered in the first place. He wasn¡¯t here. He would never be here. She was cold. She was numb. She was alone.


    No, she was always alone. She was just too pathetic to accept it.


    There were no more hallucinations to distract her, no more recollections of painful memories, and no more reason to endure. What point was there in gaining vengeance, when there was nothing left to revel in obtaining it? Why would she draw the enemy¡¯s blood when it would only prolong her suffering? Bill would rather her pass painlessly. He would rather her not become a mangled corpse clinging to self-indulgent rage.


    He didn¡¯t wish for her to slay in his name; he wished her safe, begging for it with what little he had left to give. He wished her to be loved and accepted.


    Thump.


    A listless sigh slipped from her muzzle. After everything she had suffered through, she couldn¡¯t even grant a single wish of the one who granted her own. Forget being a welcomed member of some idyllic den; she was unfit to be loved at all. She couldn¡¯t save him, she had abandoned her ire at the ones who tortured her kin, and now she simply waited for the end of it all. She was a failure, with no way to rectify it. She should die a failure¡¯s death. It was right.


    But¡­it wasn¡¯t. It was supposed to be right, and most everything agreed with her, but something silently protested in her core. Something insisted that there was more, clinging to its reason so that it might never escape. No matter how much she inquired or thought about it, the answer never came, only a feral urgency to listen being provided. She was tired of trying and never succeeding, yet the something demanded her to persist. Sunundra opened her eyes bitterly, unable to find so much as peace in the expanse that promised nothing but.


    Light. Not much, and nothing more than a speck in the distance, but in the infinite black of the endless abyss, that speck of light was a beacon in the dark. Curious, she chose to inspect it, if only to stop what was disturbing the silence of her impending demise.


    Thump.


    It took a few moments to make sense of things, but she managed to coax her aimless drifting into a more directed form, confirming that this was all of what remained of her shattered soul instead of the promised Void. The realization answered as many questions as it raised, though those were all dismissed once she came close to whatever the illumination was.


    It was still tiny, the single mote dimly casting an orange hue over the grey and yellow of her fur. She touched it with a claw.


    Warm. Whole. Complete. It flooded her empty form with remnants of fullness.


    It was a wish¡ªa fragment of time captured for eternity, spitefully denying the end that awaited her. A single desire not of her own, pleaded for by one who could no longer achieve it, and who had begged with such intensity that it remained when nothing else could.


    Bill¡¯s wish. Just the one, but it was his. His influence remained, trapped in the miniscule shard of what survived when her soul had broken, protecting its core from the eroding blackness. She moved without thought, betraying what she thought to be a surrender to the end, burying her clawtips into her breast as she clutched it to her chest with everything she had. When she had no reason to be, that wish would be her reason, if only to give to the one who only gave. If only to repay that which was priceless.


    Sunundra held it close. So, so close. His fear, his sorrow, his desperation¡­ His resignation and helplessness¡­ She took in all of it, not letting even the faintest bit escape. She burned each and every feeling into herself, determined to keep whatever she could of her bond. She kept the longing for one who would never return, letting the dregs of his misery rest within her own. She welcomed his worry for another who had become so important, and embraced his concern for those he had never met. She encapsulated everything, no matter how strong or faint, until it became apparent that only one thing remained.


    The wish.


    She loosened her grip on the mote, worried that she might extinguish it before learning what he kept closer than anything else. Closer than his late mate, closer than her, and closer than his own life. With a breath, she exposed all that she was, from caustic resentment to whimpering dejection, and from crippling loneliness to her highest joy, allowing what remained to nest wherever it belonged.


    It chose so much that she had a difficult time tracking it all, but the largest segment was¡­love. It was love, marred and disfigured by guilt and inadequacy. It was hampered by fear and worry. It gained thorns of spite and regret, but it was love, and it was his.


    And though she had been prepared for it to never happen again, she felt her heartbeat, dragging along the phantom sensation of another pulse that was but one more from stopping. She felt pain from countless wounds, dulled by a dying nervous system, and breaths that were constricted by paralyzed lungs. She felt it. She felt him.


    And so, she wept, truly opening her eyes to reveal the same white and crimson-smeared room she had been ready to perish in. She held her departed bond closer and closer, until the world became nothing but her and the only thing she had left of him.


    Thump.


    The door to the clinic cracked, thick metal deforming and showing signs of stress fractures. The cabinet rattled from the impact. Sunundra propped herself up on one elbow, caressing Bill¡¯s face and memorizing the feeling while she still could. As much as it hurt, she needed to leave, and she couldn¡¯t take him with her. He wouldn¡¯t want her to. Not if it would put her in harm''s way.


    The pale-furred female crawled off the table in the middle of the clinic, suppressing the pain in her torn stomach before turning her attention to the various storage lining the walls. Everything that was unlocked was quickly tossed open and its contents inspected. A surprising amount seemed to be variants of chemicals she was already familiar with, though modified for medical use rather than demolitions. That was fine, she could adjust them. They were added to her bag, her paws pushing aside Recon¡¯s drone to accommodate the new additions. Painkillers, bandages, adhesives, and anything else she could even remotely guess the purpose of were packed away.


    Thump.


    She grimaced, both from the burning of her open wound, and from the growing fissures in the door. She was out of time. A charge was fetched from her supplies, then cracked open to allow a few tweaks. The amplified explosive was promptly set against the floor, the cracked screen of the navigational terminal confirming the placement, a soft beep announcing its arming. Her eyes drifted back to the only one that had truly accepted her. Not her blood-mother, nor her den, unit, ship-packs¡­ No one but him.


    Her paw brushed over his features for the last time, lingering on his neck as she gave her bond a final kiss, the lightest touch conveying everything she ever felt for him.


    ¡°I love you, and¡­I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Thu¡ª


    The door gave way. The bomb detonated. The room was swallowed by inferno. By the time the smoke cleared, there was only a destroyed clinic and a gaping hole in the floor. Excluding the smallest space behind the examination table, nothing survived unscathed.


    Not even the mangled remains of the human.


    Sunundra landed violently, letting her legs buckle and transfer her momentum into a roll as the debris tumbled down after her. Her paw shakily pulled her to her feet, an unsteady, agonizing step being slowly followed by another. Soft sobs and flickering light filled the fifth level¡¯s maintenance tunnels.


    She was broken, but she had purpose. She would fulfill the final desire of her bond at any cost. She was determined.


    Just as she should be.

 Chapter 17

    ¡°You look worse than before, cat.¡±


    Sunundra slowed in her lopsided stride, tinny speakers pulling her consciousness from the veil of training and instincts it had been under as she inspected the dim confines with a neutral expression, wondering just how far she had wandered while trapped in blank introspection.


    Sparse light fixtures shone softly over long stretches of bare steel framing, their wires and pipes left exposed for easy access and repairs. There were no bloodied paw prints here, unlike the maintenance corridors she remembered traversing, the dusty yet pristine surfaces sowing a sense of muted unease. The map might tell her where she was specifically, but the urge to continue downwards was enough of a bearing. There was a location somewhat nearby where she could safely bore through the floor with an explosive, and thankfully, it wouldn''t involve falling down a gap that encompassed an entire level this time. Her legs had taken the landing better than expected, though there was no telling if they could do so again¡ªher limp was already worse than before. Regardless, a few more charges would get her where she needed to be.


    Where that was, exactly, she couldn¡¯t be sure, but she likely checked at some point and had since forgotten, choosing to follow the shadows of decisions made by some deep part of herself that wasn¡¯t occupied cherishing what little was left behind.


    And that was fine. It was fine not to remember things that didn¡¯t matter anymore.


    The irritated cadence of the alien, however, was well within memory, even as she ignored it and kept walking.


    ¡°You are going in the wrong direction,¡± the security officer continued, the deepness of its voice straining the address system. A moment of expectation went unmet by her indifference. ¡°There is only more security awaiting you this way. The disturbance your actions have caused has not gone unnoticed.¡±


    They were active? Perhaps it might mean that her kin have begun moving as well, and maybe there was someone who also smuggled contraband or weapons inside. She doubted that she was the only military personnel to have been brought here, and of those, at least one would have kept a secret or two during the onboarding process. Few were as blindly trusting as she had been, and her materials were taken in an effort to maintain her sense of usefulness more than anything else.


    Ironic, considering that which was previously a fidget to ease her nerves had since become anathema to everything she once practised. She used to utilize her supplies to save lives and complete objectives bloodlessly. Now, she painted the walls with her enemy''s viscera, enveloping entire areas with relentless fire and caustic fumes, regardless of if any would surrender or assist. The contrast felt sickening, persisting as she assured herself that it was necessary.


    ¡°What are you doing here? You were supposed to escape with him.¡±


    Yes, she was. Yet she was here, a failure wandering the halls of her attempts, hoping to make a final wrong right.


    ¡°Is this all that remains of your determination to see him safe?¡±


    It was all that remained of her, let alone something that had been vaporized by the explosion¡ªthat disappeared along with what it had been dedicated to. The once colourful shades of self-imposed delusions and newly found joys had desaturated to cracked, grey panes of unfeeling dullness, distorting any emotions that didn¡¯t tear and wretch at her insides. It was a gap that would forever be left unfilled, placing monochromatic apathy where eager tones once lay.


    No amount of wilful thinking would bring him back. Nothing would fill the emptiness surrounding the single fragment of a soul that was left behind in his wake. She couldn¡¯t even keep herself together, nor offer her own life in exchange for his. No, she survived, losing what made her feel alive. Defective, abandoned, hated, and broken, she headed towards her captive kin with a condition that would only solidify their rejection. But the determination that moved her feet through the suffering? That was his. That was what was left in her grasp after everything she had endured, and she would hold it above all else. She would protect it at all costs, for she was nothing without it.


    Just as she should be.


    Two halves of a heavy door slid closed from recesses in the walls, blocking the path forward just before she could react, her retreat receiving a similar treatment. An unperturbed blink preceded her backpack slipping from her shoulders unceremoniously, the pale-furred female setting it on the ground and shakily crouching through the pain of reopened wounds. Her efforts to treat her bond fared poorly for the cauterized wounds, and the activity after that didn¡¯t help.


    Miscellaneous components, a needle, and some thread she had taken from the clinic were retrieved, the latter two tucked into her pocket for a moment. She favoured one arm and pushed against her knee with a paw, standing to place several bare, putty-like patches on the barrier, then connected them in a loop with a length of metallic wire. A loose battery completed the circuit, starting the reaction before getting tossed back into the bag, an implement locked away until circumstances demanded it.


    Her eyes lingered on the discarded item, unable to shake the feeling that it was just like herself¡ªneeded, used, then stored for later utility. Separated, for intermingling might result in unwanted reactions. Unmonitored, for it would wait dutifully, then perform when called upon. When all was done, she hadn¡¯t the privilege of truly knowing if her efforts were appreciated, only that she would be summoned again and again. Only when she had been drained to lifelessness would she be disposed of, replaced by another who could do what she no longer could. Just like the battery.


    Her claws manipulated the needle and thread with a steadier touch than before, the numbness stilling her form as she sized up which of her wounds were still bleeding¡ªmost of them, it seemed. At least the need for anaesthetics had been rendered moot by painkillers and her now broken condition. She only felt the slightest echo of a sting in her leg while crudely stitching the torn flesh.


    ¡°Your antics have disabled multiple elevators,¡± the alien informed dryly, a wariness entering his tone. ¡°If possible, I would recommend going back the way you came.¡±


    She didn¡¯t deign to look for where the video transmission devices were, pulling the thread taut then clipping it between her clawtips before moving to the next injury that needed treatment. The charges on the door would take a while; they were quick to make and material-efficient, but at the cost of potency. It bought time for her to mend herself, however, and wasting the opportunity would be unwise.


    ¡°Have you rendered yourself deaf? You have destroyed your escape route from here. You cannot leave this way.¡±


    ¡°I have not come to escape,¡± she replied airily, pulling the edges of a sewn wound. It will hold for now. Her stomach was briefly considered, but the utility of the macabre pocket outweighed the danger to her health.


    Utility¡­


    Her nonplussed expression crinkled the smallest amount, the shadow of a frown attempting to knit her brows. It was all simply utility, wasn¡¯t it? This was useful, that was not¡ªsimple, painless, pragmatic¡­ Empty. There was no expectation, isolation, or hurt. Just tools. Just applications.


    Smiles made others less hostile, a proper posture assured none thought her disrespectful, and suitable distances meant that the most agreeable of her ship-packs would find her tact appropriate. It might even earn a dismissive nod or subtle act of tolerance, were she to be diligent in her considerations.


    She had always been vacant beneath the mask of amiability¡ªalways categorizing what would be used when to achieve the optimal result. She had been obsessive about it, keeping notebooks and datasheets to track her findings, the tables and results hidden amongst the more esoteric of her experiments in chemical demolitions. She used her very flesh as a tool, exactly as her superiors had. Apply this stratagem, don that expression, polish and shine her appearance until it resembles what others preferred¡­ Until the fateful sun where she would be appreciated and accepted for her ceaseless struggles¡­


    Now, there was no one who would accept her, and there was value in having this new utility, no matter how unseemly. There was value in having more. Whereas she thought only her body was commanded by those of higher station and the orders that came through clipped tones, she had learned it was her entirety that had been the tool¡ªfrom claw to mind. The difference was that she now followed the will of a singular desire that none could contest.


    And if none could contest it, that would make it divine, no? An edict of the Mother?


    The thought seeped into the gaping fissures of her psyche like a bitter poison, pulling from the already numbed senses. She was naught but an opportune existence to her kin, beholden to the whims of those who detested her. Bill never thought of her like that. He only saw what others were too disgusted to see: a hurt, pitiful female that wished for a smile in her presence more than witnessing another sunrise of solitude. Yet when that wish was granted, it was taken away just as quickly by those who set out to ensure she would never be given it again. There would be no more warmth and comfort, his sunrises forcefully ripped from his grasp and left to the one who wanted nothing more than to share them with him. She had received a distorted version of what she desired, never having communicated how much the brief period of being complete meant to her until the one who showed her was no longer there to hear it.


    It was taken from her as soon as she realized how much she would give to keep it.


    She had relished the bond stitching the torn seams of a soul that could hold no more suffering, then was subsequently destroyed for it, left as a hollow shell to witness time pass in some ironic punishment for sins unknown. After everything, all she could do was clutch the lingering mote of his essence, allowing a primal part of herself to act on instinct and training as something called to her from the abyss dwelling in her thoughts.


    Silent, she rejected the world, convincing herself that she might succeed in a task which towered over her. Blind, she ignored the passages and let her legs trudge forward, only a thread of consciousness guiding the way. Empty, she sheltered within the idea that she would be able to abandon that which made her his Sunshine, suppressing the worry that it would leave a permanent darkness in its wake.


    And again, she was a tool¡ªa solitary implement, its owner unable to direct or wield it¡­


    But she was directed; she was trusted with the wish that escaped the maw of the ever-hungering Void. There existed nothing of higher authority than the singular glow amidst the blackness, giving light to the ravenous stagnation that lingered, waiting to consume her whole.


    ¡°You said that you wanted to save him¡ªsave your people,¡± the alien continued, a bitter hatred seeping into his words. ¡°I thought you wouldn¡¯t waste the chance my human died to give you.¡±


    Her slow blink coincided with the last of her major injuries being stitched shut, the thread snipped before all the involved materials were stored away, her bag donned once more. The mild pressure of the oddly-shaped terminal in her stomach confirmed it was still there, reminding her that she failed to repay more than one person¡¯s kindness.


    ¡°If you care for your kind who are trapped down below¡ªor the humans they¡¯re with¡ªthen you should turn around now and find another¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªI do not,¡± she replied vacantly, her mouth moving before her thoughts could process what left it. Strangely enough, she didn¡¯t disagree with the conclusion. Only one thing mattered now.


    ¡°¡­You¡­don¡¯t?¡± it asked warily, apparently not expecting such a frigid candor. The pale-furred female adjusted the charges affixed to her backpack and waited in front of the barrier preventing her progress. ¡°What of your vengeance? You made it quite clear that I would die by your actions.¡±


    ¡°You will.¡±


    ¡°¡­Yet you claim not to care about them?¡±


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    An eerie silence stretched on. ¡°¡­Then, why? Why regress?¡±


    A soft sizzle signified the end of the placed charges¡¯ reaction, a wisp of blue smoke listing off the metal. She lifted a foot and lightly pushed against the sectioned-off portion of the door, forcing it free from the rest. It thumped against the ground, kicking up dust. Her blank expression remained, even when she spotted the glimmer of a video transmission instalment, her placid gaze boring into the hidden lens. She could almost picture the bovine-like alien watching the monitor with confusion and hostility¡ªand strangely enough, the thought was morbidly amusing.


    It was such a foolish question, asked by one who could never understand the suffering that was held at bay by the light of a promise. Compared to its luminance, all of her previous wants felt shallow and meaningless, her prayers for affection never able to include the unfathomable purity and fullness she was always missing.


    Why did she strive to please her kin, when the dullest ember he provided willingly could consume the largest inferno they could offer? Why did she sacrifice year after year to follow orders of those who despised her, when simply smiling at him returned joy in infinite volumes? Why did she suffer for them at all? True, one of appropriate background might venture numerous speculations, yet to her, only a single answer mattered. She had been moulded by the Mother¡¯s claws for one not of her own, then shown the darkest depths so she might see how bright it could truly be.


    Now, she was plunged back into those depths by another¡­but she had seen the light. She had learned there was more awaiting the Mother¡¯s faithful. It awaited all kits¡ªno matter their condition¡ªwith an offer of perfect pieces to match those jagged holes that others left within them. It waited¡­so, so patiently¡­


    And she had been shown where it lay¡­


    Her muzzle tugged into a distorted, wry grin marred and clouded by sorrow. Twisted revelation brightened her eyes. A tittering breath let slip her madness, yet it felt right. The security officer had not felt the embrace of the Void as it ripped his soul apart piece by piece, nor experienced what it was to be naught but a means to an end, and so it queried about that which it could not know. It never discovered how caliginous existence was, ignorant to the illumination that could be experienced. This naive being had yet to be enlightened, so it was doubtful of unblemished truth.


    And it was truth. It was a pure, clear, immutable fact engraved into the bones of the Goddess¡¯ offspring, yet hidden by layers of lies, deception, and life, only to be glimpsed when the granules of glass could refract the endless agony. She had been stripped of those blindfolds, cracked and shattered and ground to fine particulates until the infinite reflections formed a perfect image¡­


    Sunundra had been given clarity through her torment. She had been given unvarnished knowledge through her destruction. Through breaking, she had learned of the Mother¡¯s will, and through Bill¡¯s small, flickering glow¡­


    ¡°Because I have been given a command, unlearned one, and this faithful will obey.¡±


    ¡­She had received a purpose.


    = = = = =


    Heroon frowned, unsure how to take the sudden change in tone. From her initial despondency, he assumed the defect would have detailed how she crawled her way to however she managed to occupy the shuttle she crashed in, yet she had instead come upon some delusion of divine purpose? Was such a thing unheard of? No. Was it rare? Still, no, not really; some who closely adhered to their specific branch of the teachings are said to be granted glimpses of what lies beyond. It was common enough that the church was quick to exalt the experience as proof that the Mother watched over them all, no matter how scattered her attentions or divisive her Aspects. He chose to remain skeptical on the exact level of the deity''s involvement in the past, but this was a bit much. First a bond, now a vision?


    Fine. Even if he were to humour the thought, placing which Aspect such an¡­interesting depiction belonged to was troublesome.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    It was told that the Hunt Mother was far too great for her progeny to fully comprehend, and so she allowed pieces of herself to exist amongst the mortal young as they propagated¡ªfrom the smallest of emulations to the manifestation of those traits. All was done to prepare them for the eventual return to her embrace, the souls carrying new lessons in her stead. She gathered her influence into concentrated Essences, then divided them further into Aspects that her young might learn from, tasking them with resisting the erosion of the Void and proving themselves worthy once more.


    Sadly, that breadth of scope also welcomed a wide array of Aspects to be studied; the nature of Lilhun kind categorized and compartmentalized. Most in his field were required to know them to a degree¡ªespecially since quite a bit could be deduced by which one a particular individual placed faith in¡ªbut it was a challenge to remember every significant verse or tale, and some were more noteworthy than others. Though he refrained from judging others for which they aspired to embody, following the minutia of all of them was a task best left to the Grand Priests of The Hunt. He could only speculate and vaguely recall the scripture beyond his own belief in the Astral Mirrors, the Aspect that emphasized purity of mind.


    ¡®Be he who gazes upon his form as he gazes upon his antithesis, and be he who sees beyond the veil of self.¡¯


    It was a strange verse to be memorized from the tomes, but one he found profoundly resonating, if an ideal that he would never perfectly emulate. The exact interpretations were left to the individual¡¯s own discovery, but he believed it to be one of the more forward Aspects. For him, it was a lesson in rumination and to hold oneself to the standard they place upon others. It was that teaching that led him to becoming a Quesitar for the United Military, and now a male of high station. That faith was why he humoured the pale-furred female¡¯s tale at all, and why he allowed that feeling of reciprocity to form while listening to her plights. Alas, one cannot merely ignore the absolute, and his begrudging willingness to look past her condition was met with the revelation that she was merely sick, maddened, or Void-touched, deluded into thinking she had achieved the impossible.


    Yet¡­it itched at him. He felt something niggling at the back of his mind, a verse long forgotten over the years of his profession.


    He shook his head to clear his thoughts, ignoring the impatiently raised brow of his assistant. At least Illia was chastened enough by his earlier rebuke to remain quiet in the face of the outlandish claims they were hearing. Still, the defect¡¯s speech had slowed again, the troubled expression telling of difficulty organizing her memories rather than the emotional overload of before. Occasionally, her muzzle would open, only for her voice to falter and her mouth to close, a question only known to herself pouring doubt into the wandering gaze that looked so lost. It was starting to grate on his nerves, honestly.


    Heroon tried to maintain at least the appearance of professionalism, but he had grown weary over the course of the interrogation, and simply wanted it to be over. He felt the need for rest pulling at his eyes, the monotonous cadence coming through the speakers becoming a signal of yet another line that must be analyzed and weighed despite his fatigue. Were it not for his orders, he likely would have closed the discussion as soon as she confirmed that her bond was false, but due to the other details, he was required to listen and respond.


    His extended exhalation brought a touch of focus back to his mind, the silence while waiting for the contained one to arrange her recollections stretching for too long. He depressed the intercom. ¡°And after your interaction with the alien?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± The defect¡¯s words fizzled out, her concern visible. ¡°I do not remember.¡±


    His surprise showed involuntarily. ¡°You cannot remember how you returned?¡±


    ¡°N-not to that extent, but it is¡­fragmented. Where the charge to descend was placed, how far I traversed within the halls¡­¡± Her eyes rose from the table, a perfectly formed smile spread across her face, the regret turning it somewhat bitter. It was¡­mechanical¡ªan emulation of expression that had been executed countless times until it was burned into muscle memory. ¡°I can recall that there was a firefight, yet not how many were involved, nor how long It had been going for. The explosives used during my time on the level had apparently damaged more than just the structural integrity of the passages, and some of the traps which had yet to trigger then did so during my absence.¡±


    The rueful smile faded, her paws folding atop one another on her lap. ¡°It inadvertently freed some of my kind, as well as their human counterparts. It is difficult to say if they were acting to protect themselves, or if they had felt something was amiss before, but they chose a small, locally networked server room to convene, and their meddling with the terminals therein alerted security. I arrived at a junction near the confrontation¡­and¡­¡±


    He watched the carefully machined composure fade from her eyes. ¡°And?¡±


    = = = = =


    Oh, how quickly her grip on success had slipped.


    Instead of snapping from her melancholy to survey wherever she had ended up, she instead found herself pressed to the corner of a three-way junction, the blur of instinct that piloted her form determining she was required to deal with the circumstances. Weapons fire was the first indication that her plan to quietly break the others from their den-like cages was doomed before it began.


    She knew not how long the engagement had been underway, nor how many of the security were firing rounds down a claustrophobic offshoot of the main corridors, but she knew it was an issue, and that it was one she was in a poor position to resolve.


    The pale-furred female cautiously peered around the corner, trying to gauge her options. Unfortunately, the attempt was cut short as soon as she confirmed it was a fair distance away, the defect ducking back to stifle the curse that tried to escape. She could only make out the mouth of the assaulted passageway from her cover, which didn''t offer much information. Without an angle to view what her kin were working with, she couldn''t carelessly approach the siege, nor communicate covertly. The glimpse of numerous armoured aliens holding equally unknown firearms was enough to discard any inclination of charging in, and the slight radius of the curving corridor ended her line of sight prematurely, so there might be an even greater force present than she could see.


    She glanced down at her bloodstained fur with disdain. No, running in blindly would only result in the enemy adding one more kill to their metrics¡ªher ankle was too damaged to support that reckless inclination. She peered again, feeling ashamed of a new willingness to abandon them, but she would rather save the others than fail with this single group, and the chances of success here seemed bleak.


    Return fire snapped and sizzled from the tight passage, forcing security to continue the stalemate as plasma threatened to gore any who were careless enough to advance. A male of her kind barked orders and insults from within, pauses of aggression earning more suppression fire from the enemy, likely forcing those he was with to hunker behind whatever cover was keeping them alive. Based on the sounds and number of shots, the defenders had one, maybe two weapons¡ªnothing military-issued, but certainly Lilhun in origin. Unexpected, but not outside of her initial assumptions.


    Another salvo from the offshoot was swiftly met with a counterattack by a particularly stupid alien, its head taking the brunt of a superheated projectile, but not before firing its own weapon.


    The shriek was far from Lilhun.


    Sunundra grew wide-eyed, frozen as she rapidly compared the agonized screech to every utterance from every alien she could remember thus far, only to return with the voice of Bill''s past mate over and over¡ªdifferent, but close enough to be distinctly female. Distinctly human.


    The delay was enough for the scent to reach her.


    Fear. Love. Anger. Reluctance. Spite. Concern. Anxiety.


    More humans, their maelstrom of emotions thickening the air into unpalatable syrup, bile rising in her throat as her broken form recoiled from what was reminiscent of her bond. Each came as jagged shards that didn¡¯t fit her missing pieces, scraping, scratching, and gouging the surface of her far too damaged soul. They assaulted her olfactory, yet they were not the ones she welcomed so wholly. They did not pull at her own. They did not fill what was left behind. They were wrong. They were warped. They were not his.


    The ire wasn¡¯t his. He would never be so single-mindedly enraged.


    The panic wasn¡¯t his. He would never lose sight of his convictions so easily.


    The love wasn¡¯t his. He would never give it so shallowly.


    The fear¡­


    His eyes. His eyes strained to maintain clarity, pleading for her safety, and petrified at the thought that the pale-furred female would be yet one more thing he would lose.


    T-the fear wasn¡¯t¡­


    A gasp for oxygen forced its way into lungs that were far too weak to process it, his hypoxic lips struggling to form his terrified words.


    The fear¡­


    ¡®It¡¯s not the food, is it? Are you okay?¡¯


    The¡­


    ¡®I¡¯ll be here. You¡¯re not alone.¡¯


    It wasn¡¯t¡­


    ¡®I''ll be right alongside you the whole time to make sure. You don''t need to be scared.¡¯


    He wouldn¡¯t¡­


    ¡®I miss you¡­so, so much¡­¡¯


    He would.


    ¡®I promised her I would¡­ I promised¡­¡¯


    Her claw twitched, the blood draining from her face. Her vision darkened as hyperventilation stole her consciousness piece by piece.


    ¡®It¡¯s nice to meet you, miss.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re hurt¡­¡¯


    He was.


    ¡®You have me. I''ll be your friend.¡¯


    ¡®Well, you¡¯re my Sunshine.¡¯


    Static deafened her, yet she still heard his words, each memory more vivid and painful than the last. She clamped her paws against her head, desperately pushing back the blackest pit that tore and consumed her insides. Something screamed, her own voice blaring from countless places at unbearable volume, but it couldn''t drown out that final beat of his heart that echoed in her ears, never to beat again.


    ¡®I''m sorry¡­¡¯


    He is.


    And then it stopped. All of it. Everything snapped out of existence in an instant, leaving only a cold, vacant black that steadily crept in. The screaming¡­the memories¡­ The Void swallowed her weakened core whole as she clutched the tiny glow which gave her purpose.


    She wanted to cherish his desire and complete it as best she could, yet that too would slip from her grasp. There were too many foes, too many weapons, and too many injuries slowing her down, making her thoughts slur as they went untreated. Even if she would give anything to make it so, her form was all she had, and it had been rendered pitifully worthless, just as she always was.


    Yet something disagreed.


    Intangible, ephemeral, and playfully innocent, the something in the Void reached out, stroking her fur as she curled around the precious wish which kept her alive. Her nerves lit up like the fireworks her bond held such fond memories off, pain and comfort delivered in equal measure. The something pressed against her skin, interested in the hopeless proposal that wandered her mind.


    The voices returned¡ªmultiple in origin, yet unison in tone. It spoke with kit-like curiosity, the small presence trying its best to understand.


    Why do you not try?


    Sunundra shook her head and clutched the ember tighter. She was weakened and hurt; her limbs would falter in the attempt. The something drifted around her, as if looking for the truth in her words. Confidence entered its prideful inflection.


    Then release them to me. I will be your strength.


    But her sight betrayed her. How could she fight if mere shadows seemed primed to attack?


    Then surrender your eyes. I will find the enemy without fail.


    Yet her ears were unreliable; she couldn¡¯t trust what she heard anymore. What if she missed something in the height of conflict?


    Then let them go. Nothing will escape my notice.


    No, her mind was too sluggish. What if she was unable to make a critical decision? What if she chose poorly?


    Then give it to me as well. I will not err.


    Still, she was tired¡­oh, so tired. The drugs only went so far, and still she pressed them further and further, wearing herself down without respite. How much longer could she persist before collapsing when others needed her most?


    Then rest. I will act where you cannot.


    It was a soothing thought. However, there was more she needed to do¡­


    It will not be long. I will make short work of it.


    The empty expanse was peaceful, swirls of nothing gently swaying her while she hugged her purpose to her breast. It would be nice to take a brief nap and allow another to act in her stead until she was fit to resume. Even so¡­it was her responsibility¡ªher duty.


    You are a tool, no? That is what you always were. Is it not expected that a tool would be used? Will you not allow me to use you?


    Its mirthful perplexion drew a snarl upon her muzzle. There is only one other she would truly submit to, and his will is why she persisted despite the pain of his absence.


    The something giggled in youthful amusement as tendrils pierced and crept through her flesh, fully deadening sensation fraction by fraction. Her ears told her nothing, her eyes became vacant, and her thoughts slowed to a crawl, remnants of consciousness stuttering away. Just as she panicked, her form clicked back into place, the voice cooing its promises.


    Then trust in me, and I will ensure you persist still. I do not need your permission, but I ask for it out of sympathy. You will still be free to pursue the others¡ªfree to save those he deemed worthy.


    Fear kept her unmoving. She couldn¡¯t accept. No matter how tempted she was, no matter how terrifying the consequence, she wouldn¡¯t entrust his wish with another. It was hers and hers alone. She would breathe her last with it in her possession.


    The image of a silent form flickered in her mind, a pale-furred kit looking up at her with a twisted, bloodlusting grin, violence playing in the gaze burrowing through her skull. Its expression softened to one of tender affection as its claw reached out to caress the fringes of light projected by her tiny beacon.


    The change in demeanour did nothing to detract from the shadow of malice that remained on a tripwire thin enough to sever flesh from bone, sharpened by years and years of stretching beyond its limits, refusing again and again to snap by naught but hope that it never would. The strand vibrated as it was pulled by an unseen force, the piercing wail of over-tensioned wire growing louder and louder. The kit continued its address, unperturbed by the overwhelming screeches of metal, the sing-song cadence sobering Sunundra¡¯s confusion.


    The lies. The rejection. The isolation. The hatred. Why? Because you were different? Because you were never enough? You were quiet. You were obedient. You were loyal. You were everything they demanded of you and more, and still they despised you, locking you away in hopes that the next time they were reminded of your existence, they would only find a body to be disposed of, their problem ¡®solved.¡¯


    Small, half-lidded eyes raised to observe her with a serene expression, a storm of rending, shattered glass rolling in the infinite depth and bottomless agony of its pupils.


    Yet you suffered willingly. Longingly. Endlessly. You begged the Mother for scraps of what others feasted upon, left to starve amongst her holy clergy, giving gratitude for their crumbs while watching them be nourished by the masses of those who would spare nothing for you to subsist on. You discovered death and destruction, yet refused to use it for anything but saving those who detested their saviour. Do you remember their sneers? How they showered the others in appreciation while you were dismissed, despite it being your work which liberated them from demise? How you were the one who treated the injuries littering your form after those acts of valour, smiling through the pain because you thought that maybe this was the time someone would show kindness? How you were critiqued and berated for performing flawlessly, your superiors cursing the fact you returned instead of exchanging your life for another¡¯s?


    A sullen sadness overcame its budding rage, its stare returning to the dim orange glow.


    But him¡­ You felt it, did you not? The fear of seclusion resonating with your own, the worry of if his growing affection for you would devalue what he held before¡­ He did not lie to you, for he was tired of hearing falsehoods. He did not reject you, for he had become familiar with being unwanted. He did not isolate you, for he delighted in the company, your presence easing a weight he had forgotten could be lifted¡­


    He did not hate you¡­ No, he loved far too readily, seeing a reflection of himself that had even less than he was afforded. He hurt for you, he shed tears for your sorrow, and he was willing to sacrifice himself if that is what it took for you to be happy, just because you shared his pain. He sought to redeem himself, true, but he wanted little more than to give you your own redemption, making you a hero of your people that others would adore despite your condition. He planned to share his happiness with you as well.


    It closed its eyes, opening them to reveal absolute stillness where flurries of sharpened crystals once flew. Cracks and fractures marred the gemstone-like orbs, refracting light into millions of distinct colours that formed incomprehensibly muddled images, yet it was in the kaleidoscopic regard that sincerity rang perfectly clear.


    He surrendered everything in the vain hope that you would experience the love of others. That you would no longer pray for acceptance through choking sobs every moon your best was met by the worst of results. Still you refuse to surrender yourself to see his deepest want granted? This single heartfelt desire¡­ How pure it is. How bestial its origin. How unquestionable its intention¡­


    Do you refuse because you will never experience the circumstances which created it? Do you balk at never compensating for what is missing? No. You fear the cost of success. You fear that what awaits you at the end of it is but more torturous moons where the fantasy of love and fondness is unobtainable, leaving you with naught but a memory to ease your self-inflicted passing, countless prayers gone unanswered in spite of how dedicated and forgiving you tried to be. You fear losing that which gained a taste of the thing you pined for, condemning you to never having it again.


    She couldn¡¯t deny the words, her mind lost within the captivating spectrums seeing through her every doubt, effortlessly piercing layer after layer of carefully crafted filter she constructed to muffle the ceaseless call of the Void. Flecks and shards started moving within the blackened portals that stared at her, screams and shouting from beyond the vacant expanse leaking through the air, gunshots and alien tongues ordering the death of both human and Lilhun. Time paused with a blink of the kit, its glare severe.


    You cling to that which has only brought suffering, unwilling to meet the needs that have arisen. Like him, you must make sacrifices. You were altered¡ªbroken¡ªand now it is time to break those who oppose you.


    It smiled, devoid of ire or judgment. Its comforting regard returned to the mote held against her chest.


    This is not something you need to do alone, for he would offer the world to see his desire come to fruition. It is foolish and selfish, but it is untainted. It is him in the truest sense, and if you wish to achieve what he no longer can, then you too must be ready to let go. Not now, and not permanently, but soon, and for as long as it takes. For him.


    The facsimile of her youth waited for her answer, despondency and regret staining the maelstrom of death in its eyes. They held every instance of bitter hatred that had tried to arise, suppressed by the delusion of seeing affection if she was just a little better. Every painful rejection and scathing remark chipping her soul sent fragments of suffering into the expanse, herself unwilling to acknowledge how much less she became. The gaze contained all of her wrath and anguish that she let erode her to naught but dust as she yearned for another to soothe the pain she endured. And now, it offered to protect those fragile remains, burning itself to the ground so that she might rise from the ashes.


    For him.


    Hesitantly, she nodded, the motions growing more firm. Anything for him. Anything for his wish. Anything for the one who gave up everything to see a sad, pathetic defect be loved. The something returned the gesture, raising a paw to block her vision, a blank slate of nothing left behind.


    I will shield you from much, but some will remain. See what will be your anchor.


    It touched her arm, her limbs ceasing sensation.


    I will wield what I have been given with care. An efficient tool is one used properly, and you will allow none to do otherwise.


    It tapped her ear. Silence, save for the voices which knew no volume.


    Hear all, but heed few. You are to be beyond the whims of the ungrateful.


    Its claw hovered above her head.


    Rest now, and when you awaken, know that you have shed that which chains you. You need only use this freedom. Claim what is yours, demand what you desire, reign over your lesser as you would be reigned upon, and if any dare try to steal from you again, remember¡­


    Consciousness dissipated in an instant, leaving behind only the something¡¯s wistful call. Its dampened voices conformed to that of a single kit, unloved and abandoned, watching the possibility of ever having more slip through its claws from the corner of a cold, dark, and forgotten room.


    ¡­¡®Hope¡¯ died with him. Just as it should have.


    = = = = =


    ¡°Special Tactics Officer, Demo,¡± Heroon barked, the defective snapping out of her rumination, her gaze clearing from the distracted wandering it had taken to. At least she had the decency to look ashamed for losing focus.


    ¡°Apologies. Might I request a reminder of what I was saying?¡±


    He released a nasal sigh, urging her along impatiently. ¡°You arrived at the junction, and¡­¡±


    She stopped to think for a moment before sadly shaking her head. ¡°I cannot recall, High Quesitar. I remember the corridors, the junction, and then¡­¡±


    Her rueful smile returned.


    ¡°¡­I remember the corpses left in my wake, and the blood I had bathed in.¡±

 Chapter 18

    The pale-furred female blinked, finding her gaze languidly pointed at a destroyed light fixture in the ceiling instead of the pristine, featureless grey of before. How strange it was to feel as if one was viewing the world through another''s perspective, yet know it was their own. The disconnect wavered, a clouded sense of self crawling through her veins and giving back awareness a bit at a time. Instinct insisted that there was something amiss, but she was too preoccupied with puzzling out why a whirlwind of powdered glass came to mind when she tried to recall where she was. The attempt was abandoned, replaced by a sardonic curiosity regarding when she had become so far gone as to lose herself so thoroughly. The expanse, the voices, the blank patches in her memory¡­ Even now, the shattered housing of extinguished illumination stared back at her, yet nothing came to bear when she questioned why it had been damaged or by whom. Was it herself? Did the cracks in her sanity finally turn her towards wanton vandalism instead of staying true to her objective? Or was it a stray shot, the enemy¡ª


    The enemy. Where were the enemies firing towards her trapped kin? Why couldn¡¯t she hear gunshots? What happened?


    The answer came in stages, starting with cognizance expanding to her physical form. Only then did she truly notice how much had changed.


    Sunundra¡¯s eyes were wide, dry, and stinging. Her limbs felt pushed past their limits, then made to push further still. Heavy breaths heaved oxygen through deep gulps, fuelling the ongoing struggle to stay upright. Each exhalation forced out jets of the smoke lingering in her lungs, disturbing the listing haze that permeated throughout the air. An unpleasant note of singed flesh and spilt gore tainted every inhale. A muted sting of burns, cuts, and bruises was ever-present, but she figured a few new lacerations were hardly worth consideration¡ªdiscerning them from the rest was a futile endeavour. Overall, she wasn''t in much worse shape than she remembered, though why she was so exerted was unknown. It made the blackout all the more curious.


    Until she finally noticed the weight pulling down on her curled arm like she was holding out a sack of rocks.


    Slowly, she eased the jitter that shook her paws and unclenched her fist, dropping the mangled cadaver in her grasp without knowing what it once was, nor why it had been clutched so vindictively. But¡­the sensation of her claws piercing its organs haunted her¡­


    Her thoughts worked backwards, piecing events together with only still frames of information at her disposal, each new fragment adding to the macabre implications.


    She could still feel the alien''s flesh tearing over and over, skin parting to make way for the brutal strikes ripping through its pathetic defences in a feral frenzy. Its blood soaked her fur, joining that of many more, her natural grey and yellow colour almost entirely lost to the orange, reds, and other indistinct hues. Pleas for mercy repeated in her ears, the cries for help abandoned when it was clear that its brethren lived no longer. Fear had sunk into its posture as she leaped towards it, the blurred reflection of a deranged beast in its terrified gaze. No matter how she twisted the memory, the beast was her, donning a visage that she never thought possible. It was an expression of malice and cold rage mixed with righteous vigour, her claws swinging out to viciously execute the sinful creature doomed to be slain by her paw.


    Yet there was an addictive thrill etched into that wrathful reflection. That¡­thing wearing her likeness wasn¡¯t merely enraged; it was hunting, and nothing brought more ecstasy than watching its prey struggle, the light fading from its eyes with every brutal attack.


    More flickers of sharp instants came back to her, uncaring of if she wished to see them, another assaulting her before she could recoil from the last.


    Flecks of crimson fell through the air like gentle snow as she kicked off one target to lunge at another, letting the explosive she embedded into its throat finish the job, a spray of vermilion mist trailing after her. Panicked screams were cut short, swallowed by her bone-chilling roar of vengeance.


    An inferno consumed a group of eight, the licks of flame hardly dissipating before she had dove into the fray, using the obscuring fireball to dispatch whoever drew near enough to touch. She danced amongst the embers and blazing foes, delighting in the sound their sizzling skin produced. Carapace-coated limbs were torn off and used as bludgeons, dull thwacks ended in crumpled skulls.


    Gunshots rang clearly, those of great fortune getting grappled and used as living shields to take the retaliatory salvos from their kin, dying before she had the chance to teach them what became of those who dared impede her rampage. Her pistol clicked, empty, yet her twisted fury only deformed into a grin of disturbing glee, the excuse to remain at a distance dissolved. Most suffered, though the sheer volume of foes necessitated that their pitiful wails of pain be silenced quickly. Those who resisted were the unfortunate¡­


    Sunundra¡¯s stomach rolled when the last memory was but a pervasive sensation instead of a snapshot. She tasted the deaths of an unlucky few staining her teeth, the texture of flesh ripping¡­ Of chunks being torn free from their necks¡­ It was still so vivid, the phantom crunch of cartilage or the crackling snap of exoskeleton reverberating in her jaw.


    Her eyes fell to her trembling, blood-sodden paws, shuddering as the vile, abhorrent feeling of ichor on her tongue tainted the reverie of her bond''s sweetness. Her very core rejected the act, yet a sense of vindication existed as well. Regardless of how, why, or what she was at the time¡­she had relished every drop that slid down her throat¡ªthe elation of a fresh kill stoking a fire most primal, and the feeling of rightness that shouted how justified her massacre was.


    She was almost afraid to blink again, wary of opening her eyes to find herself further and further removed from what she had spent a lifetime becoming, and terrified of that shattered being lurking beneath. No matter how determined she was to do whatever it took to fulfill her bond''s final wish, nothing could prepare her for that¡ªfor what she was apparently a hair¡¯s breadth from becoming once more. Was that her sacrifice? Is that what it was to be a tool, following only the order of her broken soul? Was that what it deemed holy?


    No matter how horrible the memories were, her thoughts were centred around the bites into pliant flesh, her teeth tearing at her foe and staining the purity of the otherwise honoured and intimate experience of a mark. What level of savagery was required to abandon that? How many times did she quietly fantasize about another declaring her as theirs or applying her own?


    But¡­that never quite applied to her, did it? She was defective at birth; there was no mark for her to give, no matter how hard or how lovingly she tried to make someone hers. None would ever distinguish her mate amongst a crowd, and the single male her instinct had urged her to attempt it with was no more. In fact, even if it was possible for her to announce to the world who she wished by her side, the one who had met her bite failed to survive. Now, that once idle fantasy was tainted, replaced by a memory of ichor pouring into her maw with rapture, then swallowed like red, blessed water by the parched.


    This is what she was reduced to. This is what became of the rejection, hatred, and manipulation others forced upon her. Both enemy and kin had sullied her, ripping a pitiful soul to shreds and leaving her as mere hollowed meat in the form of a female¡ªa beast stripped of compassion and mercy by never being providing it in the first place. Then, they let that beast loose¡­


    If they could freely do that to her¡­


    ¡­then why should she feel ashamed for letting them become victims of what they had created?


    She shook her head, hastily banishing the hints of madness that would fester into more if they fed on her attention. Those were not her feelings, nor what she wanted. She was more than unerring slaughter made manifest. She needed to be herself for just a bit longer. For him. For the defending kin that required her guidance.


    A deep breath distanced herself from the memories. There would be time to process what happened later. For now, she should find out where she was, then find those in need of her. If nothing else, she was aware. That was a start.


    A momentary inspection confirmed she stood in the middle of the corridor, though how far she had travelled from the junction wasn''t quite clear. The grey walls had been scarred by gouges and scorched black wherever sickening vermilion splatters allowed. Bodies of the fallen lay scattered and limp, some more intact than others, and most she couldn''t recall engaging.


    But the wounds¡­ The addictive allure of blood dripping down her claws¡­ The taste¡­


    Bile won the fight against gravity.


    - - - - -


    Her backpack felt lighter than before, its straps missing the explosives previously affixed to them. The lessened burden made picking herself up off the ground easier, though didn''t make the sting of torn muscles any less unpleasant. A cough wrenched her sore, acid-burned throat, the raw tissue protesting further abuse. At least the disgusting flavour of oxidized iron had diminished somewhat. Her legs shook and dizziness rendered her unsteady, but there wasn¡¯t time to rest. One look at the corridor-turned-warzone was enough to discourage any optimistic thoughts; reinforcements would be rushing here, and without her, the others were trapped on this level.


    She dug out replacement charges for the straps of her bag, grimacing at how little material she had to fabricate more and accepting that any further detonations were reserved for progressing the escape. It was with a reluctant limp that she opted to follow the trail of destruction to find the offshoot passage, ignoring the puddle of red she had left behind. The ground was purposely pushed from her notice; she didn¡¯t want to recall how the corpses came to be.


    Thankfully, the distance she had to walk was blissfully short, the waves of nausea only setting her off balance twice until she reached the end of the site of the initial standoff. The wide, sturdy door had been slammed shut at some point, countless impacts from projectiles warping the frame. Her paw knocked on the pockmarked metal, yet only the softest of frantic whispers could be heard on the other side, a repetition providing the same results.


    ¡°I am an ally,¡± she called, suppressing a cough. ¡°Please, open the door. The enemy has been dispatched, but more will come. I have the means to escape, but we must act quickly.¡±


    She was about to knock again, a part of her analyzing the material and her remaining chemicals, when the barrier popped open, the lightest push causing the thick metal to sway inwards. The dark interior offered little until she took the time for her eyes to adjust¡ªtime that they didn¡¯t have. She was in a hurry to gather her kin while the enemy was absent, so she decided to let her sight catch up while she confirmed how many were hidden within the room, pressing down the deluge of pheromones from worried humans.


    She took a step inside, a paw placed against the walls and whatever else she could use to keep her orientation as she strained to pick out the subtlest details within the blackness. She wasn¡¯t alone¡ªshe could hear faint heartbeats hammering in sheltering chests and shuddered breaths stifled by silencing paws. The scent of blood muddled with that of the corridors, but she could still pick out the chaotic mixture of emotions off the humans sequestered amongst the dark, yet it was numbed from the overwhelming barrage it once was. A blessing, or perhaps a worrying curse.


    ¡°There is little time,¡± Sunundra reiterated, her throat scratchy and sore. ¡°We must¡ª¡±


    A flicker of a paw lashed out from the corner of her vision too quickly for her to react, her mind screeching to a halt.


    She only just barely got her paws up in time to block the blow to her head, but it did nothing to dispel the inertia behind it. Her legs failed, unable to take the abrupt shift in weight, her forearms adding fresh ichor drawn by rending claws. She hadn¡¯t the chance to catch herself; a second blur caught her in the stomach, the ripp¡ª


    It didn¡¯t matter. She was fine. They were scared and confronted by an unknown. She needed only weather the first¡ª


    Another glint of light reflected off fresh crimson as a piercing paw shot towards her, the darkness of the environment obscuring the owner of the limb. Force. Weightlessness. A grip on her neck¡ªclaws clutching¡ª


    She was fine.


    Her back slammed into something solid with a bang of sheet metal deforming. The impact rattled her senses, the grip around her throat constricting her airway. Her legs dangled fractions from the ground, her spine bending awkwardly as her bag failed to compress more than it already had, whatever she was pressed against proving similarly unyielding. It was all she could do to hold the arm of her attacker to keep the strain off her neck, but her arms couldn¡¯t hold it forever. Tremors in her shoulder warned of the imminent failure of something damaged beyond its limits, the muscles torn¡ª


    It did not matter.


    A barked command caused the doorway she had entered to close, featureless forms moving to reestablish the barrier. She choked for air, her lungs slowly matching the phantom set that remained of¡ª


    She would succeed.


    Lights snapped on, blinding her until the cool metal of a firearm dug into the flesh of her forehead. A silhouette leaned closer, snarling its threats and keeping her pinned against a server rack. She was trapped. Helple¡ª


    She would fulfill his want.


    ¡­Yet the chill in her blood surged, the familiar beckoning of the Void replaced by the scrape of glass.


    ¡°Your bloodlust ends here,¡± the deeper voice growled out. Its claw pulled the trigger at an agonizing pace, relishing in every decimal of travel. Her eyes snapped elsewhere in the room, yet still she only saw bipedal forms devoid of detail as the edges of her vision darkened.


    Her cry for help came as a choked squeak. Still, they remained by the walls.


    Why were they just watching? She was here to save them!


    The minute report of a firing mechanism creaked into her ears. She tried to beg for assistance from whoever would lend their aid, yet again, they merely stood there, eyes fixated on the execution of their salvation. Shadows of hatred rested on the indistinct faces of her kin, but worry marred the visage of others. Humans. They were held back by protective arms and defensive forms of their fur-covered others, confused and fearful. None seemed inclined to help her. None sought to stop this.


    They didn¡¯t care if she died here and now.


    Why? She had come to guide them! She had let herself erode away, overlooking the merciless thing that slaughtered the enemy because it was in service of her cause. Why were they not helping her? Why would they not let her fulfill her bond¡¯s wish? It was all she had left! Why were they letting it be taken away!?


    ¡­Taken¡­


    Stolen¡­


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Ah. They sought to steal the last of what she had¡­


    Her arms fell limply, remaining motionless as her form was suspended by a darkening male that wanted her to perish before she could achieve her goal. Why? She was close, was she not? Was she truly so deplorable that her kin would rather her be shamefully disposed of? Was appeasing one¡¯s last light only acceptable if they were normal?


    Was Bill¡¯s desire so little? Is this how she failed, slain by those she was sent to retrieve?


    The weapon dug into her skull even harder, a victorious smirk donning on the muzzle of a dark-furred Lilhun, the vignette of unconsciousness soon to be replaced by the permanence of demise. ¡°You will not hurt her.¡±


    Hurt her?


    ¡°Syrus!¡± The male flinched at the enraged shout, a furless paw grabbing him by the arm in a futile effort to pull the gun away from the defect. An alien, feminine voice seethed with ire. ¡°What the fuck do think you¡¯re doing!?¡±


    He turned his head to snarl at the shorter newcomer. ¡°Killing our enemies!¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t she one of you!? Look at her! She¡¯s beat to hell!¡±


    The dark one growled, loosening his hold on Sunundra. She felt the cold draw of oxygen slip down into her lungs, dispelling some of the blackness creeping in on her vision, yet instead of relief, she felt fury.


    Rage that bubbled, unimpeded by a cork to suppress it. Anger that sought to punish those who stood in her way. Wrath that begged to break and burn.


    ¡­And for the first time in her life, she didn''t try to push it down or smother it, pretending that it didn¡¯t exist. No, she let it pump fire through her nervous system, wrenching it into place when it tried to consume her. She made it obey her, just as it should.


    Just as they should.


    Suddenly, the fire inside cooled, becoming a compacted explosive ready to detonate at her mere whim. Parts of herself felt more complete than they ever would have before, the absence of her bond only highlighting the jagged edges, yet now her sharpened fragments waited to be turned against others, instead of gouging her like a demented spike trap of suffering.


    She couldn¡¯t hope that someone would save her, nor hope that they would listen and follow her instructions. There was no more hope.


    Only dominance.


    Her assailant adjusted his grip on the bulky, mismatched firearm aimed at her head¡ªan illegally modified unit, based on the crude cooling cell bolted to the barrel. Improvised, but functional. ¡°She is a threat.¡±


    ¡°She hasn¡¯t done anything!¡±


    The male¡ªSyrus, apparently¡ªlowered his voice in a poor attempt to mask his irritation. ¡°Jean, I act for your safety, as well as everyone else here. You are ignorant of the danger, and I do not resent you for it, but this one promises death to each and every one of us. The female will stop at nothing until she bathes in blood and rests upon a bed of entrails. You need only see the gore splattered on her coat for proof that she has already done so. Move, so I can remove her before she has the chance to do it again.¡±


    Jean pulled at his arm, shoring up her comparatively meagre stance. ¡°No, Sy. I will not ¡®move¡¯ so that you can shoot someone in cold blood. We¡¯re not blowing the brains out of people without a reason. We need to find the exit, not kill everyone else who managed to break out!¡±


    ¡°Of course there is a¡ª¡±


    But Sunundra stopped listening, their voices drowned out by the scraping, scratching, and howling storm waging war in her core like the ticking of a timer counting down.


    They were lost and scared, devoid of guidance and lashing out. They were going to bicker and flail until death crawled its way upon them. They required order. She required obedience.


    Her paw raised, grabbing the gun with a steeled calm. The male froze in his speech to look at her, a threat dancing on his tongue.


    Pitiful.


    She ripped downwards on the firearm, uncaring of the flash near her shoulder as she wrenched the weapon from the male¡¯s grasp and landed on her feet, his hold on her neck released. Both him and the human female jumped back a step, startled and not expecting the discharge, nor for the defect to ignore the blooming crimson stain. The male moved to protect his other, but was quickly winded by a kick to the stomach, sending him to his knees. When he looked up, it was only to stare into the barrel of his own weapon, his gaze tracing the bloodstained limb up to Sunundra¡¯s cold, imperious glower.


    ¡°Silence,¡± she commanded quietly, eyeing the others along the fringes of the room. Twenty or so Lilhuns bristled, yet refused to leave the side of a roughly equal number of humans. The alien¡¯s expressions ranged from hostile to terrified, but a few were watching the events with a cautious, calculating gaze, their furred companions slightly less tense than the others. Regardless of how on edge they were, none of them were equipped with a weapon of their own, so her request was reluctantly heeded.


    Except for her current hostage shouting suddenly.


    ¡°Jean, don¡¯t!¡±


    The first human female stepped forward with placatingly raised arms against Syrus¡¯s wishes, the worry in her false smile betraying her unease, the scent of concern oozing off her like thick perfume. ¡°H-hey there. It¡¯s okay. I¡¯m sorry we started things on the wrong foot. I understand that you¡¯re upset, and I¡¯d be pretty pissed off if someone shoved a barrel in my face too. Why don¡¯t we all take a step back, put the gun away, and then we can take a second to calm down and start over.¡±


    ¡°If you harm her, it will be the end of you and any who carry your blood,¡± the dark-furred male snarled, pressing himself against the firearm.


    Jean shot him a violent glare. ¡°Shut the fuck up, Sy. You are in no position to be threatening her.¡±


    ¡°And you should not be bargaining with one who wishes for your end!¡±


    ¡°Because you jumped her!¡±


    Sunundra released a measured exhalation, wondering if switching targets would stop the needless bickering. Her prior assailant took notice.


    ¡°I-it is blood you thirst for, no?¡± the male queried, keeping his attention fixed on the pale-furred female, a desperation growing in his tone when the human refused to back down. ¡°Surely, combat would be more satisfying than a simple execution.¡±


    He made to stand, a lazy kick to his chest forcing him to sprawl onto his back. Her foot pressed against his sternum, the gun levelling at his skull from above. Jean yelped in surprise, but a glance from the defect earned her cooperation.


    ¡°I came bearing the intent to lead you to freedom,¡± Sunundra informed the male flatly. ¡°I stated such intent upon entry, yet I was struck by those I wished to guide. Why?¡±


    Syrus swallowed, glancing at his human counterpart. ¡°Your smell of bloodlust and rage precedes you. I need not be a savant to know you came to deliver death.¡±


    ¡°And yet you spill nonsense instead of brain matter,¡± she countered with a mockingly curious hum, her lilt cooling further at the reminder of what the Union had done to her. She crouched to let her gaze burrow into his, her voice slipping into a malicious tone that felt foreign on her tongue, yet came just as easily. ¡°What was it you said? ¡®She will not rest until she bathes in blood?¡¯ I see your eyes fail you as much as your intelligence. I have bathed in blood¡ªthe blood of those who trapped you here. Listen for the silence their lifeless forms allow. Smell the charred remains I left to litter the halls. Look at me. Look. At. Me. Look at this weapon and say with confidence that you are worth the mercy of that which you fear. That she is worth that mercy.¡±


    The barrel flicked towards Jean¡¯s direction, earning another terrified squeak and the male¡¯s frantic visage distorting as he tried to think of a way to save his human. The defect could almost watch the gears turning in his head.


    ¡°Your bond?¡± she ventured, the sickening pit in her stomach joining the dulled sting of the open wound. Syrus¡¯s muzzle opened, a conflict of decisions keeping words at bay. His nonverbal confirmation was enough to stoke her disgust. Of course there were more; she could see it in the posture of every Lilhun, their attention solely focused on maintaining their version of that which was ripped from her soul. How many were in the facility? Were they collecting them? ¡°Interesting.¡±


    ¡°L-look, miss. He¡¯s sorry he attacked you. Can we start over? No hard feelings? I-I¡¯ll make sure he doesn¡¯t do anything stupid. Y-you can keep the gun!¡± Jean pleaded, shying away from the barrel pointed at her. Sunundra ignored her, only paying enough attention to keep the aim on the new target true.


    ¡°Syrus, was it?¡±


    The male nodded, looking to the others for assistance. Like with her, they were too fearful to risk losing their humans, and thus welcomed that which would ensure they do. Pathetic. Did they not hear the whispers? Did their blood not boil at the very thought of something threatening to take their bond? Did the Void clawing at their souls not giggle with glee, eager to remove that threat?


    Would they not do anything to make the fear stop?


    ¡°Do you know why I am here? Not my reason for coming to this location, but what gave me such a purpose?¡± Syrus swallowed, shaking his head. ¡°Because I learned what it was to love another who experienced love so wholly. I learned what it was to bond to a human¡ªmuch like the one you have.¡±


    ¡°Then why¡ª¡± The trigger of the gun audibly groaned, stifling his inane query. Finally, an intelligent reaction. She forced a smirk to show her approval, overriding the grimace of pain from her shoulder. The weight of the gun felt like it was doubling by the moment.


    ¡°They took him from me. He passed in my arms while I could do nothing about it. Yet, despite their attempts, I was given but one thing¡ªa wish, and a want to see that wish fulfilled, brash one. I come with a map, explosives, and his heartfelt desire to see as many of you safe as possible. I hold the means and knowledge to guide you to your escape, yet when I announce myself as such, I find not joy, but violence meeting my politeness. Unfortunately, the methods to achieve that goal are at my discretion. Let it be known that I do not appreciate such a ¡®warm¡¯ welcome.¡±


    She stood, keeping the weapon trained on the human female and gesturing to the rest of the pitifully lost observers.


    ¡°And you. You stand aside, waiting for my end, ignorant to what awaits you should my lifeless form crumple before your feet. Death, ignorant ones. Death is what awaits you. Be it by enemy¡­¡± Her gaze turned back to the dark-furred male who had propped himself up on his elbows, caution keeping him from risking his bond¡¯s life. ¡°¡­or the countless charges I have scattered throughout the facility. There is no escape without me, foolish ones. There is no alternative. The elevators have been torn asunder, security is aware of your location, and you have scorned she who has come to offer a pitying paw. You all have a simple choice to make, though very little time to make it. Perish¡­or follow my command, see to that your bonds are safe, and that the sinful Union is brought to its knees by the Mother¡¯s faithful.¡±


    A few expressions of indignation flared, held at bay by her unholstering the pistol on her hip and keeping it but a twitch from acquiring a new target¡ªan empty threat from a depleted firearm, but they didn¡¯t know that. Sunundra bolstered her posture, broadcasting her confidence and hiding the shake of her abused legs. A flicker of thought suggested that they would rebel despite the disadvantage, taking away everything she suffered for. A vicious growl coloured the quiet speech slipping through her blood-stained teeth.


    ¡°Make no mistake, low ones; you will adhere to my command. If not, I will render you but a writhing mass to be carried by those of more sense, your limbs but sources of agony. And so, your true choice rests with if you will stand stiff before your better. Either you will resign yourself to being a burden placed upon your wiser kin, or you. Will. Obey!¡±


    Silence choked the atmosphere, her shouted words almost echoing. A sob ended the stalemate.


    ¡°P-please don¡¯t hurt him,¡± Jean begged, tears eventually succumbing to gravity. ¡°H-he was just worried. It won¡¯t happen again, I promise. Please¡­ I know he¡¯s an idiot sometimes, but he¡¯s¡­ I¡¯ll do whatever you say, just¡­ I¡­I don¡¯t want to lose him.¡±


    The pale-furred female met the terrified, remorseful gaze aimed at her, the human¡¯s trembling attempt to keep her arms up faltering. A breath scented love and fear, and Sunundra couldn¡¯t suppress the still fresh memory of petitioning the Goddess to let her keep her own bond for just a moment more. How could she? It was staring back at her with rounded pupils and flushed cheeks stained by terror and sorrow. Except¡­the alien female wasn¡¯t asking for mercy from the divine, but instead a lowly, broken soul trying to ignore what she had done and forcing others to lend her their ear. Some part of her felt satisfied that she had managed to make a room full of hostile kin wary and unsure, but the part that clutched the glowing mote amongst the Void was¡­mournful. This wasn¡¯t the kindness Bill found so appealing¡­


    ¡°My task is to take those trapped here back to where it is safe,¡± Sunundra whispered, lowering her weapons before tossing the functional one onto Syrus¡¯ chest, the second returning to its holster. Jean rushed to his side, smothering him in an embrace that prevented him from doing anything besides accepting it. The defect¡¯s regard shifted back to the cautious audience, the ire gone from her tone.


    ¡°Follow me, and I will do all in my power to ensure we lose no more. I will open the way, and our armament will be torn off the corpses we create. Bow your head and open your ears, for my words are untainted by deception. The Union has shown our kin that the gift exists beyond just our kind, waiting in parts unknown to be found and cherished, the Mother¡¯s blessing is no less valuable with them than with ourselves. You here have been given that gift; you know I speak true.


    ¡°Think not that my rage rests with you, but in the heretical actions taken against us. Think not that it is futile, for only then is it truly so. Think not that this is the first time they have soiled the Mother¡¯s blessing, for I am far from the first to be broken¡­¡±


    She lowered her eyes and turned towards the exit, directing her speech to the others while sparing a glance at the only human who had tried to find a peaceful resolution. ¡°Choose now. Take your kin¡ªyour bonds¡ªto where we might protect them, or prove yourself unworthy of what you have been given. There are more still trapped; I will free them. When I return, you will bend the knee, or it will be bent for you.¡±


    Her foot broached the line between room and offshoot, lingering there as she reconsidered what she was doing. It hardly mattered; either they would do as she asked, or they would struggle by themselves. There were others to save. She decided to voice one last warning before leaving.


    ¡°If your foolishness ends with you being trapped by yet more security, I will take that as your determination to remain, and I will not risk your wiser compatriots to correct that decision.


    ¡°¡­Do not fail as I have.¡±


    No one responded, letting her traverse into the wider main corridor unaccompanied, her thoughts being the only ambience as she absently kicked a charred plate of armour near its deceased owner, the distance between her and her second attempt at saving another growing.


    Were it her amongst the sheltering, would she have followed? Whole, unmarred by her efforts, and desperate to avoid the security that assaulted for reasons unknown? Then, suddenly, the violence beyond the defences she relied on ceases, and one who oozes threat, coated in the blood of the enemy, comes bearing words of salvation¡­


    Would she do as that male had done? Would she seek to purge the newcomer?


    She didn¡¯t know. If it was now, then of course, but without having lost him¡ªwithout the fractured thing prepared to turn a faithful into an unholy monster¡­?


    Sunundra observed the larger passage and the carnage left behind by a beast resting unchained within her. If it were now, and he was still here, then she would have eliminated the threat without pause. She had already done so, and that had bought them precious little time. The fact that she remained standing instead of a corpse amongst the sheltering filled her with as much disdain as it did melancholy. They were too scared of losing their precious gift to protect it. They were too wary to see what actions must be taken. They were lost, yet did not wish her to guide them.


    No. She was always rejected for being deplorable, only now she had acknowledged that she needed not their acceptance, but their compliance. They would stand in her way unless she was to make them pave the path themselves. The path to saving them now, and the path to honouring his wish later. She steeled her resolve, hoping Bill would understand her methods. Kindness was a tactic she had tried all her life, and one that had yet to see success.


    They no longer deserved her kindness.


    ¡°H-hold up!¡±


    Her ear twitched back at Jean¡¯s voice some distance away, the human stumbling to a standstill as she was exposed to the splattered walls and dismembered cadavers. Wide, horrified eyes slowly made their way to the cause of destruction, the defect watching her with a neutral expression.


    ¡°You¡­?¡± Jean squeaked, pointing a claw at their surroundings while covering her mouth with a paw, the colour drained from her face. Sunundra nodded tersely. ¡°Y-you said you know how to get out of here, right?¡±


    The pale-furred female fetched the navigational terminal from her pocket, loading the map for the current level and displaying it as proof. ¡°I do.¡±


    The human cycled a breath, chewing her lip in uncertainty. ¡°L-look, I¡¯m sorry for what Syrus¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªNo,¡± Sunundra interrupted, a subtle snarl conveying her annoyance. ¡°His sin was not pulling the trigger the moment he had the opportunity. He acted against a perceived threat, yet hesitated. Were I not what I claimed, then he would only be the first to perish.¡±


    ¡°B-but you said¡­¡±


    Her expression hardened. ¡°That his actions would doom you all? Yes, it would have, but he would have defended you from the danger you faced, if nothing else. He would enter the Mother¡¯s Hunt as a pitied soul, his ultimate end being the result of his vile kin sabotaging his efforts to save that which he cherished most.¡±


    The defect looked at her blood-stained paws, not a trace of her original grey showing through the filth. The texture of her bond¡¯s skin remained on her pads, dwelling beneath the sticky layer of revenge and injury. How much longer until that was overwritten as well? ¡°He would not need to experience death, yet still walk amongst the living¡ªa corpse in all but name. He would be a fool either way, but taking action is better than simply watching as the others did.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re wrong.¡±


    Sunundra looked back at Jane¡¯s cold cadence, the alien female¡¯s bitter disapproval on display. A furless claw jabbed back towards the offshoot.


    ¡°He had no right to do that. You saved us from those Union fucks and told us that you were there to help. He was the one to overreact.¡± The indignation in her tone petered out. ¡°It¡¯s my fault that I didn¡¯t step in sooner. I¡¯m sorry¡­ I¡­I understand if not, but could you wait a second? I, uh, might have gone off on them. I-it¡¯s no excuse, but they were frozen stiff because Macie¡­ Her partner got¡­ She was alone with us¡­¡±


    Jane wet her lips with a dry tongue and avoidant gaze. ¡°They shot at us and Macie¡­ Well, it was quick, I guess. It¡¯s just¡­seeing one of us drop like that didn¡¯t exactly lighten the mood.¡±


    A human was¡­killed? How did she not¡­ Where is the¡­ Was the scent covered by everything else, or was that what caused¡­


    ¡°Can we go with you? N-no one will try anything else, I promise. I¡¯ll even help with the bullet wound! We just¡­ We just want to leave, and it sounds like we¡¯re shit out of luck otherwise.¡±


    The defect shook off the unease, seeing and smelling the fragile veneer of hope covering the blackest depths lingering underneath the alien¡¯s visage¡ªthe hesitant faith placed in another when every single option of their own had been stripped away. She turned sharply, referencing the map to orient herself.


    ¡°There are others who have yet to be informed,¡± Sunundra called over her shoulder. ¡°They remained trapped within their den-like cages. I expect all of you to assist in freeing them. There are weapons amongst the deceased; take what you can equip¡ªarmour as well, if any fits. We have not the affordance of being picky.¡±


    Footsteps were the only sound for a few moments, her pads meeting the slick and charred floor as she walked away. Eventually, there was a gasp of disbelieving indecision, then shouting and hasty threats aimed at complaints and protests. Heavy strides came soon after, grumbled curses and frantic skids of armament being looted from the dead came filling the air as others hurried to gather items and reign in volatile tempers. She didn¡¯t miss the gagging, nor the sharp reprisals being hissed out by Jean whenever someone reiterated their compunctions with the arrangement, but the group followed, no matter how begrudging or wary.


    A dark-furred male strode up to her side, refusing to meet her flat, side-eyed gaze.


    ¡°I offer my apologies for my aggression,¡± Syrus grounded out between bitterly clenched teeth. ¡°This one will serve as long as it remains beneficial to his bond, and not a moment more.¡±


    Sunundra glanced back to see a worried Jean attempting to keep a respectful distance while also reassuring a few humans who seemed to be mourning their losses, shooting reproachful glares at the male every so often. ¡°Obey and receive, Syrus.¡±


    He offered a shallow nod and slowed his pace, falling back in line with the group. ¡°Understood, high one.¡±


    She almost felt accomplished until the bright illumination instead bathed the corridors in dulled red and the klaxons of alarms bellowed out.


    The Union was done pretending they had the situation under control.

 Chapter 19

    Sunundra rushed through the screaming alarms and red-washed corridors of the sixth level, placing hastily made charges where false dens laid. The first of the freed were scared and reluctant, but an abridged rendition of her initial speech gained their temporary loyalty easily enough. Human and Lilhun fell in line, amassing behind her and heading towards the next cage, the next imprisoned, and the next victims of the Union¡¯s treachery. Groups, pairs, and unfortunate tombs were revealed with every pop of chemicals against the metal barriers. They met wary faces, vigilant defenders, and more corpses than she would have wished. Those dens sent rage through her kin, but she kept them in line with the assurance of revenge. They need only heed her words.


    Every fallen form was fuel for her ire, every broken cadaver a reason for her authority. She was their pack master, and they, her implements. Even the humans recognized a need for order, volunteering to carry any gathered supplies and doing an appreciable job of not letting fatigue slow them down. Their furred companions were able to scout ahead unencumbered, confirming the safety of the group, without weight adding unnecessary strain to already weary forms.


    She couldn¡¯t help but steal glances on occasion, watching the mixed races reassure and comfort those they were close to, as well as any who had been left behind by a recent passing. It felt right to work alongside one another, even if the pale-furred female needed to suppress the sorrow resting beneath her cooled rage. She envied how close some pairings were, knowing that her version of happiness had gone to dust while theirs persisted. Feeding the feeling would have done little, so she bit her tongue and kept on task, steeling herself to complete a portion of her bond¡¯s wish as best she could.


    More and more captives were extracted from their holdings, allowing Sunundra to distribute simple explosives to others so they too could assist in freeing their kin. It wasn¡¯t long until detonations in the distance were followed by more again. They were always soft. Familiar. Hers. The pack took form and grew at the behest of her specialty. Once again, she was freeing those who were trapped within iron and stone, but this time she would not be ignored.


    They broke down door after door, bypassing walls and rubble from tripped traps. Her beckoning became shorter with each charge placed against metal, the speech she prepared sharpening as precious moments ticked by and reinforcements became nigh inevitable. The foolish were forced to submit or be left behind to perish; if they were unwilling to risk everything for their other, then they would lose everything instead.


    ¡°Come,¡± she commanded, barely waiting for the smoke to settle before addressing the four fearful inhabitants of the den she breached. Their hazy silhouettes hesitated, a brief exchange voicing their worries and confusion, but they were intelligent enough to know something was amiss with the situation they found themselves in before her arrival. They were intelligent enough to know she was their salvation.


    And more importantly, they were intelligent enough to obey, falling in line when she walked away to continue her mission. They bowed to her authority, and she pretended not to notice the disgusting satisfaction it caused. Freed from the shackles of self, she ruled.


    Sunundra held no delusions as to what she appeared to be when she accosted the first group; she was injured, weakened, and soiled by the stench of blood and fury. Yet with every confinement torn asunder, newer additions saw not a broken defect, but a stalwart, unshakable force deigning to gift them a way out, demanding only compliance in return¡ªa cost paid eagerly.


    The makeshift units she ordered to gather the others steadily returned with fresh forms looking to aid the escape. The few dissenters were swiftly silenced when she blasted their way to the fifth floor, and although murmurs had swept through the gathering, her station was no longer questioned. The newfound pack obliged her requests, no matter their species.


    When the first enemy came into their sight, all it took was a wave of her paw for the armed amongst her kin to open fire. It announced their presence, true, but it also revealed a problem.


    Some of her pack¡¯s weapons were bio-locked. Their guns clacked uselessly once away from the original owners, the triggers reduced to little more than noisemakers.


    The cells, magazines, clips, and single rounds were expelled from chambers and storages, then collected to supply the working firearms of various designs before the inoperable guns were discarded. With little choice, her kin tried to make the best of bad news. Their force was already limited in the number of Lilhuns who were trained in organized combat¡ªthe vast majority being civilians who were employed in peaceful sectors¡ªbut most all could navigate their implements to a passable degree. Given that an allotment of their weapons were effectively clicking door-stops, and how little time they had to reorganize who was afforded what, there were hobbyists and sport shooters now unarmed beyond their claws, yet accountants and data-entry specialists who were struggling to maintain a target. The issue was one to be settled with time and newly felled foes, but it put a damper on their effectiveness all the same. The humans occasionally ended up with something, though most confessed a substantial lack of any experience with weaponry at all.


    Sunundra couldn¡¯t help but wonder if the Union accounted for this as well.


    Regardless, the second wave of antagonistic forces was dealt with in similar fashion as the first. Orders had been barked into communication devices, warning of more to come, yet she focused on where she needed to breach next while her subordinates turned hostile resistance into unmoving litter, stripping armour and armament when possible. None were pleased to wear freshly sullied equipment, but they did, for she said so. They bowed to her whim.


    How simple it turned out to be, gaining the respect of her kin through threat and displays of competence when their very lives balanced on the tips of her claws. Her efforts before? Worthless. When she was kind and considerate, peaceful and smiling, she was discarded by those she sought the company of. It seemed that all it took was a promise of violence and an iron fist for them to bend the knee to her will.


    Eventually, she found a suitable enough location to resume her work, ordering her pack to upend desks and cabinets, littering the hallway with waist and chest-high barricades before the pursuing enemies caught up to them. Some made hopeful comments about having successfully lost the tail, yet the defect knew better.


    Hope was dead.


    ¡°Switch out! We have more injured!¡± someone yelled, though she couldn¡¯t quite tell who it was.


    Sunundra scowled over her shoulder at the scramble of her kin pulling a Lilhun back from cover and around the corner into safety, a newly reddened paw clutching their leg to stymie the relentless rivulets of crimson. The overwhelming din of gunshots and panicked voices almost drowned out Syrus¡¯ barked orders as replacements for the fallen procured dropped weaponry and continued the battle. New colours flashed, lighting up the already bright hall. Gouges and streaks from stray shots marked the walls and toppled furnishings acting as barricades, both sides of the engagement forced to hunker down between bursts lest they be struck. Yet more Lilhun blood was spilled, but the fallen knew their sacrifice would not be in vain, and it was her duty to see that made true.


    The defect gazed upon the amassing wounded before returning to her task, ignoring the chaos behind her. Her weakened form couldn¡¯t participate¡ªshe was too injured, and a leader needed to exude an air of one whom the others could rally behind. Besides, leaving her kin to their devices told them that she expected them to succeed, even if she fought the dregs of deadened dread with every lifeless corpse or injury sustained in the effort.


    The vast majority of Lilhuns and humans stood in wait for the eventual rotation with those who were actively discouraging approaching forces. A few had taken to tearing clothing or using stolen scraps to tend to the wounded, but there was only so much they could do while suppressed like this. There had been too little time to scavenge the proper assortment of supplies, and they had not the comfort of secluded confines to work in.


    As much as she would have preferred traversing out of sight, there was a potent lack of maintenance tunnels on the fourth level, which left them few options other than breaching upward at a dead end. Without being able to tuck themselves away and bridge the gap between hidden passages, a rather powerful blast was needed to clear the entire floor¡¯s worth of material at an angle, and that could only be achieved while in the open. Thankfully, Bill had been instrumental in helping her complete an explosive that would make such a daunting task possible.


    The mist from her latest experiment drifted down from its place upon the wall, soft cracking sounds informing her of destruction hidden by the device. Although the multi-stage explosive was up to the task, it used the last of her free compounds to make. Furthermore, it was an agonizingly slow process¡ªone that took every hard-earned moment the pack tore from the claws of death pursuing them.


    The wisps of vapour from the charge dissipated. Only moments remained before the final thumper blew a hole through the barrier blocking their ascent; she heard the ominous creaks and falling dust warning her of the deafening explosion soon to come. She cycled a breath, trying her hardest to push aside the scent of fear, loss, anger, and blood, while the aroma of seared chemicals added to the sickening sense of anticipation prevailing in her veins.


    It would do no good to dwell on the fallen. The others were needed to fight off the impending waves of security so she could facilitate their egress, and they needed her to remain focused in turn.


    And fight they did. They fought for their kin, their others, their bonds, and their departed loved ones. Most importantly, they fought for her, and that was something she found disturbingly correct.


    Now, she only needed to prove their allegiance to be well-placed.


    A small light on the charge turned green.


    ¡°Brace!¡±


    She leapt backwards and flattened her ears to her head, stumbling an extra step from the abuse her body sustained. Others did as told, though a few near the intersection were too busy laying down suppressive fire to hear her.


    Though they certainly heard the bomb.


    A blast of smoke and rubble shook the very ground they stood upon, the shockwave throwing a few faithfuls and their bonds to the floor. Light from the third level bled through the hole, but the superheated stone and metal prevented more than scant glimpses of hope in the pack¡¯s eyes. She barked orders for her kin to prepare, including a command for the group defending the corner to push back the assault long enough for the new tunnel to cool.


    Emboldened, they obeyed.


    More succumbed to the onslaught, more were left crying and broken, but she swallowed the budding guilt and focused on keeping them organized. Alive. The injured were dragged by fur or clothing, triaged, then either resupplied with ammunition or assigned a non-combatant to carry them. New armament was scrounged from the bodies of security who encroached on their position, then redistributed to fill empty paws.


    They were able to defend themselves long enough for the new passage to be traversable, though the losses were heavy. A final push by the enemy was halted when a haphazardly rigged battery was passed off to a human, then thrown into the wave of reinforcements. The resulting explosion left only death in its wake. It gave them a moment to breathe and assess their status, the cheers of victory stifled by the dread of more encounters to come.


    Most were fine, though a few bled through their hastily applied bandages. Sunundra wasn¡¯t sure how many they had lost, never quite having bothered to keep track of the following she gathered. Forty became sixty, which then surpassed what she could estimate at a glance¡ªhundreds, she supposed. It hardly mattered in the end; the number dwindled with every confrontation. Yet, even as they suffered losses, every fallen promised tens of enemy slain by their claws. Cries of sorrow were met with reminders that their sacrifice allowed the group¡¯s survival¡ªa bittersweet message, but a necessary one. It would be too painful for those who lost their others if they were allowed to dwell.


    Eventually, the faint echoes of hostile communication devices fouled the air once more.


    They fled the fifth level, bypassed the fourth, and emerged amidst the third, fringes of Sunundra¡¯s mind wondering just how far away Bill¡¯s corpse was. For better or worse, the urge to curl up and die in her bond¡¯s arms wasn¡¯t given much time to linger. The enemy reinforcements were swift.


    The pack let loose volley after volley to suppress their foes, suffering minor casualties and injuries. Quick thinking and eager humans allowed them to stymie bleeding wounds and gouged appendages. Weaponless, they cooperated. Frightened, they rushed. The thick scent of adrenaline and purpose assaulted the defect¡¯s olfactory, every wrong instance of what she knew only sharpening her commands and snapping the dazed from their stupor. Wave after wave was repelled as they reached the next site, but she couldn¡¯t help but notice a shift within her ranks.


    It started with a group of furless males pulling their Lilhun counterpart behind cover as soon as a magnetically propelled kinetic round punched through armour and sent viscera splattering outward, the black coat failing to hide the deep red pouring out of his chest. A human took his injured other¡¯s weapon and opened fire, bellowing his rage with ferocity that made the collective flinch. Then another did the same. Then another.


    The reaction made Sunundra pause in her placement of explosives, a thought passing through her mind despite the cacophony of gunshots and roars of agony.


    From the scarce rumours circulating since the Union contacted her people and the extensive compatibility ¡®testing¡¯ commenced, the bond was proven to be unique to the Hunt Mother¡¯s kits. Initially, the churches were filled with hesitation and speculation. Worried faithful voiced their concern of if their Goddess would be so cruel as to assign them their destined in the form of a grotesque alien from the stars. Thankfully, none who returned ever suggested it was possible, and most expressed annoyance at the muted or absent pheromones amongst their cosmic neighbours. Their words brought relieved exhalations throughout the species, and the Lilhun people grew confident in their singular suitability for the Mother¡¯s favour. They were beloved like no other, just as they should be.


    Yet¡­even if Sunundra had been content with the strange, one-sided bond she thought hers¡­seeing a furless biped snarl with such focused rage, mowing down the enemy and shrugging off perforating punctures with barely a wince until they succumbed? Now, she questioned if her kind was as unilaterally blessed as history foretold.


    The humans might not have bonded in form, but they became broken in soul, and they felt no contentment in merely watching their shattered selves scatter upon the Void.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    They grabbed the shards and bared them as weapons.


    The Mother would approve.


    The pale-furred female resumed her task, pushing aside the howls of fury and distress. According to the map, they would find the hangar on the second level, and then they could commandeer a shuttle to escape through the launch bay, bypassing the first floor of the complex to the surface. She was forced to breach upwards in a spot that was less than ideal, but her paw was forced. Without a building¡¯s worth of material between the third and second level, a mundane breach charge was sufficient to punch through the ceiling. She was grateful for that, if nothing else; her bag was almost empty, and she doubted the usefulness of what she had left.


    Recon¡¯s gift, scraps of bandages, and powdery residue were all that met her cursory inspection of her backpack. A couple of painkiller applicators lay cracked near the bottom, their contents spilled and soaked into the fabric. A pitiful selection, all things considered. Barring the remote detonation utility of her makeshift controller for the drone, there was no reason left to hold onto the storage, nor what little remained. Yet she donned it anyway; the lessened weight pulled her back straight, and it would act as a pathetic layer of armour. Not enough to make much difference, but every bit mattered.


    Thankfully, the simpler explosive took significantly less time to detonate, and it was a much more directed affair, which saved her the trouble of getting her weakened limbs to flee from the blast radius. It released a muted bang, then left a haze where foundation once laid. She felt the air circulating along a new pathway and watched it carry away the dust. A single callout to the others led to the most well-off of them boosting everyone else upwards, while a few increased their rate of fire to apply pressure on the enemy. The flood of projectiles discouraged an immediate retaliation, allowing the pack to make a relatively clean getaway. Some more of her number had been removed at the claws of the enemy, but she ignored that fact, as well as the cries that came with it.


    But she couldn¡¯t ignore the subordination that arose.


    Even when she ordered it, the newly broken refused to leave behind the vacant forms of their others. Disparaged humans wept, though were coaxed away from the gaping hole where security would advance. The affected Lilhuns roared their ire, some diving back down to purge the sinful, while others held onto their faculties and demanded possession of firearms and ammunition to secure the safety of the pack. Arguments flared up immediately, but all eyes inevitably turned towards their Sunundra, their temporary leader.


    Gazes of wrath, loss, desperation, and fear surrounded the pale-furred female, each seeking her judgment. Would they arm and abandon the few, weakening the many as weapons dwindled, or would she demand them be carried against their wishes in an effort to save as many faithfuls as possible?


    Sunundra glanced at the navigational terminal in her paws, noting how much distance remained to be traversed. Not much, and although it would be tedious, at least it was possible to drag the unwilling. In the end, it should have been a simple decision; a mere word was the only thing between their protests and forced compliance, and it was in her interests to utter it. She was supposed to return to Iras with droves of those who were wronged by the Union¡ªthe stubborn included.


    Yet¡­


    ¡°Arm half,¡± she ordered flatly, turning on her pads and leading the march towards the hangar without sparing a single glance towards those who were discontent with her ruling. Humans protested, calling for reconsideration. They argued that even a single life was worth the risk and discord that would be caused by forced action, but they spoke from ignorance. Their numbers were fewer, their strength lessened, but the Void had already gripped the broken. She didn¡¯t blame her alien allies¡ªher bond would have said much the same¡­


    It was just pointless to consider.


    Even if she brought them back, they wouldn¡¯t remain amongst the living for long. They would rather perish while avenging their others and defending the bonds that remained than uselessly persist. They chose to take a stand despite being shattered.


    That was something she understood all too well.


    - - - - -


    The lack of an assault as they progressed through the corridors of the second floor was unnerving. Gunfire and shouted threats echoed through the halls, but those who elected to stay behind were rather effective at stymieing the flow of security. It seemed that the Union had no faith in her ability to climb the levels as quickly as she did, and thus thought cutting them off on the third would be enough to put an end to her escape attempt. Perhaps they assumed the slow charge she needed to bypass the fourth floor was the standard? It hardly mattered; they quickly reached their goal thanks to their enemy¡¯s incompetence.


    The hangar itself was thankfully devoid of staff, though she supposed that made sense considering that the entire complex was on some sort of lockdown. They passed door after door, each reinforced with heavy shutters and thick bars of materials she couldn¡¯t readily identify. The destination itself looked to lack that particular security feature upon the impressively tall entryway. Perhaps it was left open to allow bigger machinery access? She wondered why constructs large enough to tower even modest dens would be needed, but that internal pondering quieted once she stepped into the room that the terminal benignly labelled as ¡®Hangar.¡¯


    She felt it would have been more accurately described by words interspersed with expletives.


    Shadows stretched across the city-sized room, swallowing entire fleets of smaller shuttles in various states of disrepair. Colossal freighters put the Lilhun counterpart to shame as they loomed over most everything else in the gargantuan space. Transport vessels lay littered around imposing support pillars the size of entire residential complexes. Countless mobile mechanic stations and antiquated scissor lifts lay abandoned, the tools and workstations that supplied technicians being left open or in disarray. Automated maintenance drones and odd emplacements were scattered around the floor and on tracks that snaked through the cacophony of vehicular debris, transporting strange components to places far beyond what she could see. Alien technologies melded together on experimental crafts near a decommissioned hauler of some description, the terminal arrays next to them having been shot and hastily destroyed further. She recognized some design cues of her people¡¯s ships, but whatever the Union was attempting to achieve was far beyond salvage now.


    A hurried pat on her arm stung, a forgotten wound agitated, but Sunundra suppressed the twitch of pain to glower at whoever thought it wise to bother her before she could determine what to do next. Syrus¡¯ bond, Jean, switched back and forth between looking at the pale-furred female pleadingly and staring at the corridors they just left, fear darkening her expression.


    ¡°I¡­ I think they¡¯re coming,¡± the human whispered. ¡°It¡¯s too quiet back there.¡±


    Quiet? The defect added a raised brow to her resting scowl, turning her head to listen. She heard murmurs of uncertainty from the pack and the occasional jostle of equipment, but the din of combat had long since become naught but faded reverberations, no? It was merely wisps of sound lost amongst the chaos, and even the stifled sobs that remained outcompeted it. How could anyone distinguish if it was absent when the shuffle of impatient feet was deafening in comparison?


    However¡­Jean was the one who convinced the others to fall under Sunundra¡¯s rule¡­ That should be rewarded, if only by heeding her warning.


    ¡°New directive,¡± Sunundra called out, the pack snapping out of their stunned stupor and turning their attention from the giant super ships to the diminutive defect. ¡°Group up into tens and spread out to identify a craft we can commandeer. Once found, shout to alert the others. Stay within line of sight of at least one other unit. Be wary of forces following our advancement. If you are engaged by the enemy, do not drag them to the others. You are to fend them off until a ship is located, or until they are dispatched. Assist those in combat if feasible. Go.¡±


    The command took precious few moments to spread before it was followed. Some broke the first restriction by expanding their allotted size to twelve or thirteen, but she wasn¡¯t so strict as to ignore the possibility of bonds or carried injured causing some skewed arrangements. Cracking down on it would only waste time they didn¡¯t have, and if the slight deviation gave them comfort, then she wouldn¡¯t comment on it.


    She did feel the need to remark on a certain dark-furred male who opted to coax some others to her side instead of splitting off, however. She nodded to the seven additions of Lilhun and human, Jean rounding out the unit.


    ¡°Syrus,¡± she intoned curiously. ¡°This is unexpected. I was under the impression that you wished little of me.¡±


    The male gave his bond an annoyed glance that was less subtle than he thought, while the human simply frowned, staring him down until he bowed his head. ¡°This one will follow his better, high one.¡±


    Sunundra dismissed the interaction with a hum, watching the groups start their progression into the hangar¡¯s depths. She eyed the others individually for a moment, then waved her entourage onward. ¡°So be it. We will stay near the centre of the spread. You have been given your orders.¡±


    They grunted in acknowledgement.


    - - - - -


    The pale-furred female frowned at the cluster of small shuttles around them while she waited. Some humans in the pack had apparently been employed upon similar models in the past, and were confident that several could fly them if the need arose. It was an assuring thing to hear, and the crafts themselves were a fair size, but they would need to take three in order to accommodate the pack. Two might be possible, assuming her kin were content with being pressed so close together, yet she suspected that pondering it was a waste of time.


    She was proven correct by the human who had volunteered to check the ships; the male stood atop a nearby lift, shaking his head in annoyance. Yet another was added to the list of crafts that were useless for their escape. A round of curses were uttered by those who were growing impatient, and by the lack of reports from the other units, Sunundra figured everyone else was having similar luck as well.


    To say that the defect expected to jump into the first craft they came across would be inaccurate, but after locating a cluster of ships and finding all seven to be gutted, she was starting to wonder what the purpose of the hangar was. From what they could observe, all the reasonably sized options were stripped inside-out for parts, and as interesting an idea as it was, escaping with one of the supersized freighters would only welcome an anti-ship bombardment from Iras. Needless to say, that would be less than productive¡ªnot that they had anyone on paw who was qualified to pilot something that large. She doubted there were many who could jump behind the alien controls of something several times the size of a shopping complex and seamlessly operate it.


    A long exhale through her nose replaced the sigh of irritation she wanted to produce. Her anxiety was beginning to creep around the deadened sense of neutrality, and every effort wasted was yet another chance for the enemy to overwhelm those defending the passage. Putting the thought aside, she gestured for the furless biped to return, hollow clunks of metal rungs breaking the tentative silence as the human climbed back down the ladder of the maintenance equipment. The defect looked towards the larger vessels casting wide shadows in the meantime, keeping watch for anything of note or for possible signs of distress from distant pack members.


    The next batch of smaller ships was too far away to blindly pursue. The silhouettes were smaller than a claw¡¯s width from where she stood, and she wasn¡¯t keen on the idea of walking all that way just to find yet another deconstruction yard. Of course, there was still the question of if she could make it there at all. The only thing keeping her legs beneath her was the determination to see a task done, but even that was slowly losing the battle against blood loss and injuries. True, she could push past her limits thanks to numbness dulling the pain, but it didn¡¯t erase the damage causing it, nor did it stop more from being sustained. There was only so much longer she could keep going before everything caught up to her¡ªa fact she hated, yet was forced to accept.


    A twinge of discomfort spiked as she rolled her shoulder, the pale-furred female lost in thought about how much more the limb could take before it finally stopped responding. It had already faltered a few times, though she was able to adjust how she moved it to feign her wellness and maintain the image of a reliable leader. Barring any unexpected athletics, she could likely manage with just the one fully functional arm for the time being, but it would be best if she wasn¡¯t made to find out if her speculation was accurate. If the pack knew how thin the thread she was hanging by truly was, then all of her authority would vanish in an instant, and she would fail her bond.


    A flicker of motion in her periphery pulled her from rumination, one of her followers raising a paw in a strange request to speak. She regarded the five-digit appendage with a flat expression, then gave permission with a curt nod.


    ¡°We should check the bigger ones¡­?¡± Jean proposed, hiding her insistence behind a questioning tone before sheepishly lowering her arm. ¡°We can still go towards the next few, but we¡¯re not fitting everyone in just one of these, right? Even if we do find a working ship, we¡¯ll still need to find a second. It¡¯d be better to just focus on the ones that have enough room.¡±


    The others in the unit exchanged glances, and although they seemed reluctant to spend even longer waiting for someone to climb the maintenance equipment to access each individual ship, they too had grown increasingly frustrated with recurrently defunct prospects.


    The human noticed the judgmental looks from her Lilhun counterparts, though the confusion on her face showed she was unaware how her words might be interpreted as a challenge of authority. Sunundra ignored the social misstep, doubting it was intentional and letting the novelty of her pack being offended on her behalf subside before considering the suggestion.


    It was a valid query. Should they continue to check shuttles that their number would likely know how to fly, or should they start risking even more wasted time with crafts of truly alien design? True, they might be fortunate enough to find something of sufficient size that someone could pilot, but was it worth the added periods of inactivity? Besides, it would only be more difficult to ensure that no one was left behind if they split up further. She knew from experience that corralling so many individuals was a task best avoided when possible. Her eyes wandered the group to survey their thoughts.


    Syrus elected not to give an opinion, instead dedicating himself to gazing along sight lines towards the entrance of the ridiculously large room. Sunundra suspected the male was doing so because his bond would likely injure her neck from how frequently she looked over her shoulder before he opted to take up the role himself. Jean was in favour, obviously, and although the rest seemed torn, they bowed their heads in deference to the pack leader¡¯s judgment.


    The defect cycled a breath. ¡°You raise a valid point. I suppose it would be best to adapt to the circumstances. You two¡ª¡± She flicked a claw towards the tallest and most visible members. ¡°¡ªsignal the adjacent units to ignore the personnel transports. I suspect the Union was in the process of salvaging the easily accessible vessels. We will transition to the¡­ I would call them ¡®small¡¯ cargo ships. Regardless, they will be quicker to inspect than anything larger.¡±


    Her order was carried out as soon as she turned away, a pair of males splitting off to pantomime the change in procedure. Others in the distance repeated the process of conveying the changes to those beyond the mess of crafts and equipment. It wouldn¡¯t take long for the entirety of the pack to be informed.


    As soon as confirmation was returned, they set out to find a broader ship that seemed promising. Locating them was more difficult than one would assume, given that the pack needed to navigate the maze of equipment and parts that were larger than most personal transport vehicles. The colossal freighters took far too long to circumvent, so they resigned themselves to losing sight of the other units while walking through the alleys created by large blocks keeping the crafts off the ground. It was the first time in quite a while that she was pleased by her shorter stature; if she needed to crouch like some others, then her collapse was all but guaranteed.


    They came across a possible candidate soon enough, but Jean reiterated her concerns of how much time had passed since she last heard weapons fire. Sunundra outwardly dismissed the paranoia and argued that the enemy had charged at every opportunity thus far, yet internally¡­


    Internally, she was worried. The search was far from expedient, and although she would rather be able to boast about her kin¡¯s prowess in combat to quell the discontent, she had seen too many corpses in too short a time. Furthermore, the broken cared not for injury; they were just as likely to succumb to cumulative wounds as they were to be taken out by a single lucky round. This was not a legend of old being told to the small inside their dens, but a brutal, unforgiving reality. There would be no divine intervention to bless those of virtue, nor would there be a Liquid Claw to restlessly hunt the sinful until there was no more blood to be spilt. There should have been something happening by now. Forces should be charging after them, cracks of kinetic rounds pinging off the hulls of ships. Her pack should be defending themselves from the enemy, silently preparing themselves to either run towards a discovered ship, or to die taking as many of their foes with them as possible.


    But¡­nothing? No, that was outside of her expectations, and every stretching moment that they continued without harassment was beginning to erode her confidence.


    The human returned from his task, shaking his head once more. Thankfully, the next craft wasn¡¯t too far away. The arrangement of ships allowed long corridors of clear ground on occasion, and they were able to speed up their pace without needing to navigate around thick cables. She watched as the furless male hefted himself up yet another ladder and attempted to gain access to the vessel. Succeeding, he disappeared within the confines of the metal hull, leaving the rest of the unit to remain vigilant down below.


    Sunundra busied herself by checking down the long stretch of open floor for the next closest target, shoving down the unease caused by being so exposed. It was somewhat foolish to feel as if they were mere moments from being attacked¡ªSyrus was unerring in his diligence, and he made sure to keep a visual of the entrance that the enemy would come from¡ªbut the lack of combat itched at her. Still, she chose to trust in her temporary pack, dismissing the disquieting sensation and focusing on the task at paw.


    The search within the ship took much longer than before, but she supposed that the human needed to travel further to reach the helm, or perhaps he was held up by the need to override locks. Maybe he was exhausting his options before conceding that the vessel was inoperable? Regardless of what occupied him for so long, he returned, waving to catch their attention. She noticed him first, glancing up to see the verdict. Yet another useless ship, it seemed.


    That was expected to a degree, but it didn¡¯t make her any less disappointed. The irritated frown grew as she idly considered what they would do if the ¡®Hangar¡¯ ended up being more of a ¡®maintenance silo.¡¯ Would the surface be a viable place to find a ship? They would need to go through the first level, and she was already out of explosives to make an unexpected entrance, though a cargo elevator should have remained untouched. The defect pulled out the navigational terminal just in case, flicking through the various blueprints until she found the one she needed. It wasn¡¯t much different than the other floors, save for the larger rooms and broader hallways. Except¡­


    Armouries, mess halls, barracks¡­


    The vague recollection of Greg mentioning a security level crossed her mind.


    That very floor was above them, had unrestricted access to the elevators, and they had absolutely no sight lines with all the ships and pillars blocking their view. A shiver ran down her spine, the runaway train of thought brought to a temporary halt by shouts being echoed through the scattered groups of Lilhuns. She listened closely, straining her ears for the tell-tale signs of distress, yet only picking out enough to hear something resembling elation. Someone else had found a shuttle they could take? If so, they needed to act quickly¡ªall this time spent being cautious was more than enough for the enemy to take advantage of the circumstances.


    Sunundra turned to the male and motioned for him to¡ª


    A spray of red mist exited the human¡¯s head, his lifeless corpse tumbling over the side of the platform. He hit the ground with a sickening thud, unmoving as crimson pooled beneath him.


    Syrus¡¯s gaze snapped to the body, then back to the same large doorway he had barely separated his attention from. Nothing. Stunned silence lingered for only the briefest of breaths while eyes snapped around, but none were able to find where the shot had come from.


    She heard the crumpling form of a Lilhun behind her, but her focus went elsewhere. Specifically, she stared in the opposite direction of the entrance they had been so wary of. Something produced a small flash of light atop one of the gigantic ships in the distance, and yet another of her group was wordlessly silenced. Her muzzle opened to bark the command to seek cover, but Syrus¡¯ voice came out first, his warning splitting her attention.


    Reinforcements were coming from the entryway. The broken had been surpassed.


    Security was on the first level, pouring in more foes through the opposite route.


    ¡­They were tricked, lulled into a false sense of safety while the enemy set up their counterattack. Now the pack was left with little option; ascending further was a death sentence, and a retreat back into the facility was just as lethal. Enemy forces were going to swallow them whole from either side.


    They were trapped with only the hope of reaching whatever craft had been found before they were slaughtered.


    And Sunundra knew what the world thought of ¡®hope.¡¯

 Chapter 20

    Yet another kinetic projectile ricocheted off of the armoured hull of a shuttle acting as their cover. It deflected into the brittle concrete floor, leaving sparks and fragmentation in its wake, the round spraying the area with lethal shards. Displaced rubble fell like a sombre rain amidst pounding hearts. Over a dozen souls tensed, each of them awaiting her order.


    Sunundra provided. ¡°Move!¡±


    The group bolted from cover, paw pads and boots stomping against the ground as they ran through the corridors of dry-docked ships. The panting of both human and Lilhun was drowned out by the din of combat. Shouts broached the cacophony, sorrow and fury roaring out in equal measure, yet they ignored how the former was becoming more prevalent. The constant sprinting was wearing the group down, and the circumstances that necessitated it was gnawing at their fraying nerves, but the pale-furred female gritted her teeth the hardest. She was falling behind more and more with every mad dash, only overtaking those who fell to enemy fire.


    The rest of her unit pulled ahead as she hid the grimace of pain caused by her abused legs pushing herself forward. One paw held her stomach, the claws hooked into what little fabric they could gain purchase in. It made her stride even more lopsided, but it was disguising the trickle of blood coaxed by the heightened activity, preventing the others from questioning her weakness. Try as she might, applying pressure to the wound was out of the question for a simple reason; her arm wouldn¡¯t obey her commands anymore. It had suffered too much. From gunshots to cuts, from overworking and enduring impact after impact, her shoulder wept its own crimson tears. Metal flecks had found their way into open wounds and irritated her raw flesh, grinding deeper into already torn muscles. Any haphazardly applied bandages had fallen off a while ago.


    The defect stumbled behind the pack into the shade cast by the next spacecraft, straining her hearing to locate the repeated calls from the group that found a functional transport. It was so clear before, but now the voices melded into the staccato of firearms and stray shots slamming into concrete and steel. Pain bloomed during the brief moment of respite given to them by the bulwark they sheltered behind, a headache tearing into her like heavy machinery attempting to crack open her skull. She surrendered to the pain and folded her ears. It was useless; she wasn¡¯t able to pick out where they needed to go next when everything else was so loud. She could only pray that her initial heading was correct, and that they would see far less fallen.


    They had passed two other units so far. The first had been reduced to a pair of Lilhuns holding their stolen bonds in one arm while laying waste to everything in their sight through their tear-struck howls of rage, their faces of loss and ire illuminated by the unending strobe of their guns. Jean had to be physically picked up by Syrus to stop her from falling into shock when the pair was eviscerated by the deluge of retaliatory fire. The human became silent since then. Despondent. Her scent was like acid on the defect¡¯s snout, eating and eroding flesh with every laboured breath. It smelled like everything she knew of their kind¡¯s scent, yet nothing at the same time, setting her even more on edge. It was the smell of emotions abruptly cut short, the furless biped¡¯s mind shutting down to leave naught but a cold shell.


    It was eerily close to the scent of death.


    The second group they encountered had successfully repelled a wave of forces pressuring them into retreat. Having suffered only a single loss, a recently unpaired human remained with their others instead of searching for vengeance like his bonded partner would have, though the dark expression and muted pheromones sowed unease within his allies. The unit joined Sunundra¡¯s following and were assigned to carrying the weight of ammunition, addressing sustained wounds between baiting shots from ever-present snipers. No one complained about how long it took to tend to those who needed it; the lull bought time to prepare the next method of misleading their foe.


    One of the furred males grabbed a cap from his bond and placed it over the barrel of his empty firearm, using the rifle to feign a cautious member of the group ¡®peeking¡¯ around the corner. The response was immediate. The garment was sacrificed to a single, lethally accurate kinetic that destroyed both bait and weapon in the process. The male discarded both and sprinted onward. The rest tore after him.


    Open spaces passed by in a blur. Imposing superships loomed over them as they ran between storefront-sized blocks holding it aloft. They kept up the pace far longer than Sunundra could maintain, yet the pale-furred female kept running, choking down air when she could.


    Despite the command to hold, a female Lilhun risked not waiting for another attempt to waste the sniper¡¯s bullet and continued beyond the cover of the support blocks, taking a round to the chest in her haste. She tumbled, an attempt to get back to her feet ceased with a second shot that impacted the ground a moment before she fell limp. There was no time for mourning, nor for chastising the decisions of the deceased. The sacrifice had allowed them to continue safely, intentionally or not. The group swallowed their discomfort and ran, most pointedly not looking at the dead eyes watching kin abandon her corpse.


    Sunundra, however, looked. She met the stare devoid of light as she passed. That one did not heed the orders of her betters. That one fell as a consequence. The pack leader returned her gaze to the next batch of cover, forever disregarding the result of insubordination. The small fragment of her soul holding Bill¡¯s wish whimpered, muffled beneath the hardened shell formed to protect it. She was to save them, true, but they were to obey. It was not her responsibility to carry the weight of their stupidity.


    The defect was the last to get behind the cover of a mostly disassembled transport, heavy steps bleeding off her momentum. The others had chosen to rest; some stood, others leaned against their protection, and a few simply sat down to nurse their wounds, purposely ignoring the distant cries of suffering.


    ¡°How much farther?¡± Syrus asked between laboured pants, Jean hidden within his embrace. The female¡¯s shuddered breaths showed an attempt to collect herself¡ªan effort apparently helped by the bonded one stroking her head.


    A lighter-furred male catching his breath perked an ear. ¡°I cannot hear them over the¡ª¡±


    A deafening explosion beyond their cover sent dust and detritus through the air.


    ¡°¡ªcombat,¡± he finished with a wince. ¡°We should be near by now.¡±


    ¡°How close are the approaching forces?¡± another Lilhun questioned. ¡°The sniper must be relaying our position, no? Why have we not been surrounded from all angles yet?¡±


    ¡°We are,¡± Sunundra corrected dryly, hiding her exhaustion and injuries by crossing her good arm over the limp one caught in her shirt. She gazed at the ground, almost fantasizing about how comfortable it would be to just lay down, though she bit back the dulled urge. If she stopped now, there would be no starting again. Her legs were leadened weights, her lungs burned, and her mind was clouded. Suns upon suns of high stress and endless activity had more than taken its toll. Any attempt to rest might prove to be her last.


    Curious eyes looked to their leader for an explanation, reminding her yet again that these were civilians, not soldiers. She turned her attention to the maze of crafts beyond their hideaway.


    ¡°I suspect they have split our pack,¡± she elaborated tiredly. ¡°There is no route to flee¡ªthe Union has ensured that¡ªand what we have remaining is not enough to breach quarantine. We have been moving towards our escape, yet what of those who were farther away than ourselves? There has been no sign of them following us, and no firefights have chased us down. The enemy is separating us into easier to manage chunks and eliminating us through superior numbers.¡±


    Silence washed over the gathered unit as she brought her disinterested stare back to them. Twenty faces of mixed species all wore defeat as their expression. A human male spoke up, pushing himself off the ground to stand. Blood and grit covered his angered, disbelieving scowl. ¡°Then why haven¡¯t we been cornered yet?¡±


    The defect shook her head when an attempted shrug failed. ¡°You deem us of greater importance than the others? Are we so identifiable to the hordes of the indiscriminate? No. They slaughter our kin as the opportunity arises¡ªwe have simply been fortunate enough to provide few. Perhaps our position in the middle of the spread allowed us greater freedom, or perhaps the enemy has concentrated their efforts on removing those who found themselves with less protection in the environment. Why we remain is immaterial; we merely are, and it is our duty to the departed to prove such an oversight to be the Union¡¯s fatal mistake.¡±


    She beckoned the group with a claw, ignoring the cowed alien¡¯s odd expression of determination and uncertainty. ¡°Rise. You all have rested enough. We must continue.¡±


    Several opened their mouths to protest, but her glare stayed their words. They knew that every moment wasted on temporary respite was another moment risking permanent failure. Sunundra was aware of the massacre happening out of sight, no matter how much she wished she wasn¡¯t. If they were split as heavily as she feared, then hundreds would have been reduced to half by now, and that said nothing of the units they circumvented or had yet to see.


    She was saving far less than she desired, and that number was getting smaller and smaller¡­


    A tentative nod was shared amongst the group, the few firearms they still had being checked and reloaded before someone went about luring another shot from the sniper.


    A bullet cracked against the ground. They ran.


    - - - - -


    The beckoning from the unit who had found a suitable transport was finally audible over the cacophony of war. They yelled for their kin through hoarse desperation. It was close¡ªan assumption supported by the report of gunfire transitioning from being diluted echos to its new snapping clarity. Still, Sunundra¡¯s pack ran unimpeded by fear, every hurried stride bringing them towards their destination as they traveled between the slivers of shadow. There was no room for hesitation anymore; the enemy had finally begun closing in, and any lingering thoughts of staying in the safety of the ships¡¯ protection was dashed by urgency.


    Tall walls of space-faring constructs dwindled to nearly nothing as they broached a section dedicated to individual component repair. The broad space was free of towering transports or sturdy pillars to hide behind, yet it was filled by chaos. Distant ships framed the circular, artificial enclosure, only the upper halves visible over the mess of storage and tools. The space was occupied¡ªno, consumed¡ªby countless workstations and abandoned assemblies, several shelves of replacement parts already torn asunder by warfare. Terminal arrays, mechanical lifts, and large, boxy equipment lay scattered and haphazardly placed. Cables and panels offered nearly nothing in the way of sightlines, swallowing entire pathways with their nets of wiring¡ªsome of which sparked and swayed, cut by stray shots. Claustrophobic lanes were all they could actually see, and those told of an even worse labyrinth awaiting them.


    Footsteps slowed while those in front of the unit visually scoured the edges for a path through¡ªa mistake. They were not alone, and the enemy welcomed their group swiftly.


    Both left and right became naught but flash and deafening din, streaks of light trailing superheated plasma screaming its way mere fractions from piercing her kin¡¯s forms. Several of her pack shouted their suffering as crimson mist sprayed outward and the scent of seared flesh polluted the air. No one needed to encourage the pack to dive into the maelstrom of mechanical litter, though some were slower to do so than others¡ªSunundra included. She ignored the burn across her thighs and jumped over a table covered in tools and schematics, embracing the dim shade that swallowed her whole. A stumbled step and outstretched arm stopped her fall, pushing her back into a lopsided sprint to catch up to the others before she too was left behind. Flickers of fur beyond the veil of wiring was all she could see of her kin, and that was quickly lost amongst the nests of cables. Yet she persisted, the dryness in her throat making every heaving breath feel like she was inhaling shards of glass. At least it was safer within¡ª


    Something slammed into her back, sending her cascading over a crude, knee-high box, her form crashing to the floor. Bullets relentlessly punched through metal and synthetic compounds above her, saturating the area with promised demise. Shelves and equipment were perforated endlessly by unerring streams of projectiles. Splinters exploded into the air with every shot, pelting her with slivers that stuck and stung the skin. She managed to close an eye in time to avoid going blind, but the tiny fragments littering her fur needled exposed wounds.


    The assault lasted only a moment before the maelstrom swept onwards to suppress other sections. The pale-furred female pulled herself to her knees, noticing that she had lost the others. She was alone, blood pouring down her face from lacerations on her scalp while the arc of gunfire likely shredded her pack inside the mess of shelves. The thoughts were quickly drowned out by blackness crawling through her veins. A familiar, sickeningly enticing Void cooed into her ears through whispers that knew no volume, yet said nothing at all. It only begged to be released once more. To feed.


    She felt it tempt what remained of her consciousness, promising a momentary rest while it dealt with her troubles. It warned her of how it could force her to comply. It brought forth the flickers of memory¡ªof the rapture on a red-soaked defect bearing crimson-stained teeth while their prey fell lifeless before them. It asked her if she would rather admit to having failed her bond, dedicating herself to enacting vengeance, or if she would cling to the increasingly doomed goal she had set for herself.


    For the briefest of moments, Sunundra considered it.


    Her hammering heart skipped and stuttered, each successful beat detonating in her chest to make up for those it missed. Her head grew light, her vision draining of all colour, and only the keening wail of a ruptured eardrum remained in one ear.


    Had she already failed? Was it time to give up? Could she?


    Outnumbered, outgunned, and hopelessly trapped, could she abandon the wish and surrender to the desire¡ªthe need to drink the ichor of her enemies who took her bond? All she had to do was accept her failure, and then she could ensure that all who had sinned against her were sent to the Void as mere playthings for the faithful. They would go, fearful and haunted by the image of a pale-furred monster savouring the taste of their flesh as life bled from their forms, and she could be the beast that smiled at their suffering. She could die as something more than a sad, desolate female who had lost their gift.


    It would be so simple to forget what she was supposed to be¡­


    ¡°...ver¡­ere!¡±


    Her arm was nigh useless, but she could rend and sever with just one. The other was a detriment, however, trapped within the cloth of her shirt. That would get in the way. She tugged at the wrist with her functional paw, aware of something pulling at the wound in her stomach, yet disregarding the phantom sting. An object fell into the limp limb¡¯s grasp, but her attention moved to the continued static wail assaulting half of her hearing. Distance speech garbled and wavered¡ªa distraction to be dealt with.


    ¡°...ean, we must leave!¡±


    ¡°..v¡­er¡­!¡±


    She got to her feet, claws picking at the shell of her ear, returning with shards of¡­


    She stared at what she held in her functional paw, confused by the sense of loss. Her translator lay on her pad, destroyed. Useless. It must have been damaged by shrapnel, rendering it to be little more than malfunctioning waste. The assumption proved true; a metal splinter had punched through almost the entire device, just barely stopping before it pierced her eardrum. She had removed what caused the noise, and her hearing was apparently still fine, so why did it hurt to see this tiny object laying so shattered?


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Ah, right. It was the first thing she accepted from Bill. It was what allowed her to speak with him.


    Now¡­it was gone. Just like him¡­


    The dulled sensation of something else in her other paw reminded her of the previously ignored curiosity. It was a red-soaked cylinder, a small fuse protruding from the top.


    ¡®You¡¯re a kind person, miss.¡¯ ¡®Well, you¡¯re my Sunshine.¡¯ ¡®I can¡¯t¡­save you. I can¡¯t¡­help the others.¡¯


    Sunundra blinked, surprised by the suddenly blurred vision. She was about to give up, wasn¡¯t she? She did give up, but his words shed light upon her darkness. Even now, he reminded her of what she had suffered for. Of what she still suffered to achieve.


    No. He reminded her what she will achieve, no matter how small. No matter how pathetic she became, no matter how little she was, and no matter how far she would need to go, she would fulfill his wish.


    A sudden paw grabbed her arm, almost hauling her off her feet. Sunundra stumbled, blinking through her surprise and the pulse of adrenaline when she noticed Jean yelling at her in that unintelligible human language as she was pulled along. The alien female sported her own cuts and dirtied clothing, but unlike the horified visage of before, she glowered at the defect with a gaze of sheer determination while navigating further into the maze of shelving.


    ¡°Just leave her!¡± a deeper voice shouted. Sunundra glanced at the source. Syrus stood amongst discarded toolboxes, seeming none too pleased with his bond¡¯s actions, a paw resting on his pistol. Jean barked something in reply and continued past him hurriedly. Whatever was said was enough to bring conflict to the male¡¯s expression. He searched the pale-furred female with his gaze when he caught up, his eyes flicking to her ear. ¡°Her translator is missing.¡±


    His bond slowed, finally letting go of the defect¡¯s paw. Her speech prompted him to close his eyes and let out a frustrated huff before addressing his pack leader with irritation in his tone. ¡°We located the ship, high one, but we required a distraction to cross a vacant stretch to reach it. Several have volunteered.¡±


    ¡°Yet you remain?¡± Sunundra asked distractedly, steadying herself when Jean released her. Something was missing, but she hadn¡¯t the chance to dwell on it before Syrus¡¯ glower returned.


    ¡°It seems my bond values your life enough to risk her own in ensuring you were given a chance to escape as well.¡± He ignored his human¡¯s indignant reply. ¡°Thus we are here, delaying the others while we waste time.¡±


    ¡°Then we must return,¡± she countered, not bothering to start an argument. Her thoughts were occupied by the drips of dread pooling in the back of her subconscious. What was wrong? What was absent? Her arm was slack, but with them being so close to their goal, appearances could afford to tarnish somewhat. Besides, as long as she still had¡ª


    Her breath hitched as she turned towards whence they came. The firecracker.


    Her paws were empty. She didn¡¯t put it back where it belonged. Where was it? When did she lose it? How?


    ¡­Jean. Jean had grabbed just above her wrist, and Sunundra dropped the keepsake without noticing, too surprised to process the absence of something so important. She left it behind.


    Her hope of returning to what Bill was so fond of. Her hope of being his Sunshine once more. Her hope of not succumbing to the Void. It was gone. Abandoned. She had to go get it. She had to hold it again. Her instincts all but begged for the crimson-stained explosive to be returned to her. To its resting place, protected by her very flesh and blood. To be kept where no other could sully what it stood for. She felt cold without it. Distressed. Empty. It was wrong to be away from it. She needed it. She needed to have it close. She needed¡ª


    Another paw gripped her shoulder and roughly pulled her back before she could leave to retrieve the physical manifestation of the promise she made to herself.


    ¡°Release me!¡±


    ¡°We must go,¡± Syrus growled, tugging her off balance and forcing her onward. She tried to resist, but she was too weak. Too hurt. Her form was pushed too far to fight the male. Not without surrendering to becoming the thing which relished violence and would put an end to what she held dear. She had no choice but to suppress the tears of futility as she was led farther and farther away from her last memento of her bond.


    Jean assisted when she noticed strength drain from the defect¡¯s limbs, placing an arm around Sunundra¡¯s back to ease the strain of stumbled steps. The act was done in good faith, but all she felt was yet another barrier placed between herself and the last thing remaining of the one she loved.


    - - - - -


    The lull in violence did little to ease their nerves, yet the pale-furred female¡¯s thoughts remained clouded. It didn¡¯t matter now. She felt vacant. Wrong. She eventually regained enough energy to walk on her own, though it took a light tug to have Jean allow it. Syrus released her when he was sure she wouldn¡¯t charge back into the mess of wires, and she made no attempt to. There was no point in going back now; she didn¡¯t know where the firecracker had fallen, and Bill would be disappointed with her if she abandoned the others for a single object. Not when they were so close.


    They regrouped with the others who intended to rush towards their goal, just barely ten in number. Truthfully, she only heard how a few of the broken were to draw the enemy¡¯s attention elsewhere in the maze, freeing time for the rest to flee with their bonds¡ªa pragmatic course of action, if disliked by some. She just nodded at the request for her approval. A few humans begged for her to stop them, but they accepted when she spoke, her own voice uttering words she didn¡¯t recall forming. Something else kept her moving, talking, and commanding¡­


    She was wondering what the point was, uncaring of if it was actually her piloting her body anymore¡ªas long as what needed to be done was done, then the how was of little importance.


    If anyone noticed a difference in her demeanor, then they failed to act on it. The remaining pack moved to their assigned positions and waited for the signal, spurred on by a faux defective barking orders. Sunundra barely tried to keep track of what was happening, every blink transporting her somewhere else within the chaotic confines of the maintenance area, some part of her remaining at the reins of consciousness while the rest fell quiet.


    Combat initiated elsewhere. The air above gained more streaks of plasma and cries of suffering, some belonging to the enemy. That was enough to elicit action amongst those in wait, the group sprinting out from the shelving and into empty space towards the safety of ships. Of course, Sunundra¡¯s injuries had only worsened over time, and blood loss had worn her down to the point that she would fall behind once again. And she would have, had Jean not insisted on having Syrus assist. Both of them all but carried her forward.


    They were about half way through the open area when a tan-furred male peeked around the edge of a craft with a weapon trained on them, only to lower it once they saw who was approaching. He shouted out for unseen kin to open something, a rapid exchange being followed by a loud hiss, then a ramp being lowered into a recess along the clearing. The new one¡¯s voice pierced Sunundra¡¯s daze enough for her to regain lucidity.


    ¡°Hurry!¡±


    Syrus slowed in tandem with his bond, his glare of confusion mixing with irritation as he once again released his pack leader to walk forward. ¡°This is what you summoned us to? You were told to acquire a larger ship.¡±


    The other Lilhun growled, jabbing a claw at the modest shuttle. ¡°You are more than aware of what happened to the rest of us! We did find a larger transport, yet it was overrun as soon as the fight started. You should be thankful we located something else! Now, get inside. Quickly! We are attempting to bypass the console lock on the cockpit, and the moment that we succeed, we leave¡ªwith or without you.¡±


    ¡°You cannot¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªI have done enough,¡± he snarled, taking a step closer to the dark-furred male, his grip on the firearm tightening. He gestured towards the pitifully small collection of souls that had managed to make it to their method of escape. ¡°You have no right to criticize me when this is all you bring. I did my duty and called out to our kin, then did so again out of kindness¡ªsomething that is becoming ruinously difficult to supply. We have bled enough as it is. We have lost enough as it is. We need not welcome the Void while awaiting those who have already departed. If you do not get in the shuttle, you are welcome to find another for yourself, where you may gleefully join those who will never come.¡±


    Jean started to speak up with vitriol in her throat, and Syrus seemed prepared to pull out his pistol, but neither could act before a human female appeared at the top of the shuttle¡¯s ramp, a light pant colouring her speech. The new one gestured at a panel next to the entrance on the hull a few times before jogging back inside.


    ¡°The lock requires an override,¡± Syrus translated through a growl, rubbing a rib his bond had prodded none too gently. He gave a sharp nod towards the panel that the other human seemed frustrated with. ¡°The internal system is apparently reliant on that, but none of their members are able to bypass it.¡±


    A questioning glance at the others proved that their group¡¯s arrival had yet to change that fact.


    The dark-furred male huffed. ¡°Are you able to destroy it?¡± he spit between clenched teeth, keeping his attention on the tan-furred male while begrudgingly addressing the pack leader.


    The defect shrugged off her backpack after a sluggish moment¡¯s thought, wondering if she had enough loose compounds for a simple acid or the like. The bag was still mostly empty; she had lone drops and grains of chemicals, but not enough to make anything useful. A shuffling paw scoured the contents in case something had escaped her notice, the process brought to an abrupt halt when Recon¡¯s drone thumped against the ground. Its shell was cracked and mangled, a deep crater carved into the chassis, rendering the majority of it inert. Her brow creased in confusion until she remembered being hit in the back while amongst the shelving and wires¡ªa hit that her backpack took the brunt of.


    So she was shot then, just¡­protected¡­ Protected by a gift created to convey her sincerity to one who wished nothing of it, then held by the pitiful female who was too terrified to accept that none would care for her. Sunundra eyed the monocopter before hesitating, her paw having stretched to retrieve it without her permission. She reeled the errant appendage back in, grabbing her bag and making her way over to the panel, ignoring the unease caused by abandoning the possession. The drone¡¯s payload was destroyed, and thus it was useless to her now. She couldn¡¯t salvage it to solve their current issue, but she could still take a look at the source, if nothing else.


    The others who had arrived with them took her actions as permission to enter the craft, passing by as they took shelter. Syrus stayed on the ground, just barely maintaining peace with the other male. He placed himself between Jean and the equipped firearm while the former cautiously asked questions, likely unsure of why they had remained outside. Sunundra ignored the tense atmosphere, dropping the backpack at the top of the ramp as she eyed the interface that was causing so much trouble.


    Any attempt to interact with the panel resulted in the display showing a strange symbol and garbled alien text. The combination seemed strangely familiar, yet the pale-furred female struggled to recall when she had seen it. Still, the sensation persisted, insisting that it was something she had encountered before, no matter how briefly. The oddity was set to simmer in the back of her mind as she went about examining the problem at paw.


    She poked, prodded, and felt along the edges for a way to tamper with the installation while the sounds of weapons fire reverberated out from the chaos they had fled. Every passing breath was but one breath less before the enemy discovered that they were chasing those already destined for the Void. Then, it would be little time at all before their attention was directed towards the shuttle. Sacrifice or no, there was only so much the broken could sustain before succumbing, and she wished not to waste their efforts. She had lost her bond, her keepsake, and now, the representation of a foolish fascination she called ¡®love.¡¯ What she would not lose, however, was her chance to fulfill his wish.


    The panel flashed yet another red symbol of refusal from her attempts, a frustrated fist thumping against it. Where had she seen it? When? The stress caused her to tense, pulling at the torn muscles throughout her form, a trickle of coaxed crimson seeping into the fur of her stomach. The sting should have been distracting, yet all she thought of it was that her most secure storage had been foiled by a shoddy attempt to keep her limp arm out of the way. Now, all she had was¡­the odd¡­


    The memory clicked into place, hazy and indistinct after so many suns spent constantly active. The symbol was on the very first maintenance tunnel she encountered¡ªa denial for entrance, as she was yet to acquire Greg¡¯s terminal. Of course she forgot it; every path had been open to her since, and there was no reason to use anything besides what worked. Her paw moved quickly, piercing her wound and retrieving the oddly shaped device, then placing its blood-stained surface to the access panel.


    The panel beeped, its display turning green.


    A human calling out from inside urged action, the tan-furred male perking an ear, then barking for Syrus and Jean to make up their minds before sprinting up the ramp. Sunundra felt the wisp of a smile form as success was but moments away. It was far smaller than she intended, and by far narrower margins than was commendable, yet it was a success all the same. It was a defect completing a portion of her departed bond¡¯s deepest desire. It was something, which was more than she had ever achieved before.


    The pale-furred female hissed as she put the terminal back where it belonged, stepping back on unsteady legs to grab her bag. She glanced down at the drone at the bottom of the ramp¡ªthe last connection she had to a time before she learned the joy of love. A time before her name was said fondly, and before she had become someone¡¯s Sunshine. A time before she became a beast consumed by bloodlust, no matter how briefly.


    A time before she found out how much worse living could be.


    Jean¡¯s cry snapped the defect from her thoughts, a blink clearing the haze and revealing the human¡ª


    Sunundra was plowed over by the tackle, both Syrus¡¯ bond and herself sent crashing to the floor inside the shuttle. Her muscles screamed their muted agony, yet those bellows of torture paled in comparison to the dark-furred male. He appeared in a blur, the briefest fraction of clarity painting his rushing visage as one of terror. He all but ripped Jean from atop the diminutive defect, shouting to be directed towards the medical bay, then bolted into the bowels of the ship without waiting for an answer. She hadn¡¯t a chance to process what had happened before the ramp to the ship slammed shut with alarming speed, yet the closed entrance revealed enough.


    Blood had been sprayed across the ramp where she had been standing moments before. She looked down at herself, seeing her clothing and fur matted by copious amounts of foreign ichor, and a single furrow torn into her shirt, passing through the pocket she kept the navigational terminal. A pool of red had formed next to her in the short time she was pinned beneath Jean, and large splotches followed along the path Syrus had fled, painting a gruesome outcome.


    She got to her feet in a daze, only marginally aware of the inertia changing as the shuttle took to the air in search of an exit. A faint scuffing sound followed her through the confined corridors as she dragged her backpack by a strap, her mind rejecting the details of her surroundings. They didn¡¯t matter; she simply followed the heavy spills of crimson and replayed what caused them again and again, every repetition rejected then parsed once more.


    A sniper. There was no flash, nor crack of kinetic to alert them. No, she wouldn¡¯t have noticed anyway; she was preoccupied with other thoughts. Which meant Jean had noticed something, then acted to save a defect by pushing her out of the way, the alien female using her own body as a shield in the process. It was a simple chain of events, yet it was discarded and reevaluated. Again. Then again. No matter how many times she tried, she couldn¡¯t answer the one question she truly had.


    Why? Why not allow Sunundra to fall, then use the lull to secure the safety of the others? Why take the risk? Because she was the pack¡¯s leader? That was a position she had gained by effectively threatening to slaughter all who dissent, treating the insubordinate as but casualties to their own failures. She had done nothing to endear herself to her kin. What would have been the point? The moment that they arrived on Iras, all would be forgotten, and they would go back to their lives with their bonds, leaving her alone yet again. So, why?


    She slowed her pace in the middle of an indistinct hall, stopping to stand before a dark-furred male sitting on the floor. His bond had been placed atop his lap to rest against his chest, his arms wrapping around her like an iron cage. Soft, shuddering sobs shook him. His ear turned towards the intruder, yet he didn¡¯t speak, instead choosing to quietly cradle his other half. There was no need to ask¡ªthe scent alone confirmed her suspicions.


    Jean didn¡¯t make it.


    Sunundra stood there, watching yet another of her kin learn the horrors of being broken. Yet it was worse for him, she supposed. The others had been given a clear enemy to exact penance from, but Syrus was aboard a shuttle leaving any he could seek far behind. He could only swim in the shattered shards as they sliced and gouged his soul until there was nothing left to cut.


    She opened her muzzle, a feeling of sympathy drying her throat. ¡°I apol¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªDO. NOT,¡± the male roared, sorrow cracking his voice. A choked breath settled his volume to a whisper. ¡°Do not discredit her deed with your words. Do not speak as if she was wrong to act¡ªas if she had made a mistake. She wished to aid one who had unjustly suffered¡­ To save someone who sought to save many¡­ Please¡­do not¡­¡±


    The defect fell silent, offering only a nod.


    Neither of them so much as flinched when the alarms sounded, neither moved when the speakers blared a warning of an anti-air battery acquiring them as a target, and neither listened to the weeping coming through the microphone that had been left active while those in the cockpit lamented how close they were to surviving.


    Sunundra simply stared at the third person in her life to show her true kindness. Dead.


    Someone decided to read the countdown to collision aloud, filling the ship with an exact idea of how long they had left. Like everyone else, they had given up, yet wanted the others to spend their final moments with their bonds and loved ones.


    Six.


    Syrus finally looked up at her as the numbers continued to fall, his gaze slipping past her, contorting his expression from despondent to bitter. Gingerly, he slipped his bond from his lap, carefully seating her against the wall to show the mess of soiled fabric that covered the wound in her chest. The pale-furred female blankly watched as he stood, scowling at her with a visage shimmering with reddened fluid. He reached out, gripping her throat and lifting her as he had done before, but there was no anger left in his eyes, only mourning. She let it happen.


    Five.


    He slammed her into the opposite wall, punching next to her head with enough force for her to hear his bones break against the metal, yet he didn¡¯t so much as wince. Suddenly, the wall behind her was gone.


    Four.


    The male leaned in, burrowing into her breathless face with his gaze, his voice barely a whisper. ¡°Do not waste her efforts.¡±


    Three.


    She was thrown backwards before she could question it, crashing against a new solid surface, her backpack hitting her stomach a fraction after. A barrier of transparent material snapped down, containing her within a strange confinement. An emergency escape shuttle? Syrus returned to his bond, placing her back in his lap and curling around the human female as much as he could.


    Two.


    The muffled countdown continued. A hiss drowned out the sounds of futility. Her stomach was pulled into her throat, the tiny cell she was trapped within now firing away from the shuttle at speed.


    One.


    Sunundra watched a barrage of missiles impact and disintegrate the ship, leaving naught but shards and smoke in its wake. It was only the dull sting in her abdomen that reminded her of her bag¡ªor more accurately, the makeshift controller for Recon¡¯s drone that stuck out of the pouch. Her claw flicked the switch, then depressed the detonator, wondering if the components required had survived. They did, and she upheld her words to the security guard who assisted her.


    She spotted the first plume of smoke instantly. It quickly became two, then four, then a single, unforgiving fireball that swallowed a massive area, the drone relaying the signal to every charge she had placed during her restless task to find her bond.


    She had nothing now¡ªno pack to return to, no love to cherish, no Sunshine to be¡­not even the knowledge that she had fulfilled a part of his wish. She merely bore witness to her explosives killing an untold number of others, just as she never wanted.


    A single word came to mind as the shrinking landscape became a voracious flame, though there was no one else to say it with her, nor was there the surge of youthful glee to lose herself in. It slipped from her lips in the strange, alien tongue, an echo of Bill¡¯s elation diffusing throughout the emergency escape craft¡¯s tiny interior¡ªa final reminder of what she had for such a short time, and what she will never have again.


    ¡°...Boom.¡±

 Chapter 21 - Finale

    Heroon kept quiet as the contained one spoke, only marginally aware that Illia had slowed in her task of transcribing. His assistant¡¯s professionalism was enough to ensure that she quickly made up for any lulls, but even he was wondering if she should stop. Why wouldn¡¯t she? The story they¡¯ve sat through was borderline insanity. No, it was insanity.


    So why was he still so invested?


    ¡°I lost sight of the planet, then found the controls shortly after,¡± the pale-furred female continued, her paws folded on the table. ¡°I was able to set my bearing and adjust course back to Iras, though I am unable to speculate how long it took. The decision of where I was to land was lost amidst the haze, truthfully; my mind was occupied with a need to convey what had occurred. I only vividly recall the impact, being surrounded by firearms, then becoming cognizant in this facility.¡±


    And with that, she fell silent once more, staring aimlessly at the table after once again tearing open the sealing wound in her stomach. The pair of interrogators exchanged a glance, but he eventually had to concede that she was likely done.


    ¡°Is there anything else you would like to add to your statement?¡± he prodded, struggling to keep his cadence flat. It was unsettling to see her mutilate herself repeatedly without paying it the slightest bit of attention.


    The contained one opened her muzzle, then bit down on her tongue, her expression fearful and reluctant. ¡°No, high one. That is all.¡±


    He noted the deviation, but elected to mull it over rather than make a note of it now. ¡°Then I will review what has been discussed. A moment please.¡±


    The High Quesitar breathed out and let the intercom mute. There was much to think about before he committed to any particular stance, and more than a few things were bothering him. He turned his attention to the neglected terminal built into his desk, bringing up the incident report regarding her ¡®landing¡¯ once more. Hopefully, it held the answers that his mind insisted were missing. He hadn¡¯t looked at it since they started, and even then, he barely skimmed the documentation on his first reading¡ªmostly because it was as dry as any other paperwork.


    Considering the lack of clarity during her recollection on several occasions, he suspected that her impairment had been a factor in deciding to crash into a military installation as well. The confrontation was likely less than amiable, given the abrupt introduction back onto the base. He was right, somewhat. The file was rather clear in why the soldiers of the base felt the need to use force. Most of the first responders were in the various facilities surrounding the impact zone¡ªthe cafeteria, gym, armoury, et cetera¡ªand rushed towards the scene in an effort to evaluate the cause of the disturbance. Upon entering what used to be a functional auditorium, they were welcomed by the sight of an alien craft lodged into the floor, the hatch popping open to reveal a brutalized, almost feral Lilhun.


    The transcripts vary in detail after that, yet they consistently mention the level of aggression displayed, a lack of coherence, and how the female was subdued¡ªor more specifically, how difficult it was to subdue her.


    Non-lethal shock rounds barely did anything, while tranquilizers had little effect. With their two main methods to dispatch a threat non-lethally being rendered nigh useless, only a barked order from a superior stopped them from resorting to a more permanent solution. The intruder finally collapsed after demanding to speak to a Quesitar, slipping slurred claims of the Union¡¯s sins into her pleading, a damaged electronic device brandished as ¡®evidence.¡¯ A twitchy claw amongst the ranks resulted in a heavy deterrent round striking her in the chest, thereby allowing them to contain her. Anything beyond those events was separated into various files detailing the transfer between facilities. A trip to medical kept her alive and hastily repaired the worst of her injuries, but a sudden awakening during the process halted any attempts to do more than the bare minimum. Once the medics gave up on trying to operate on an uncooperative patient, a security log confirmed that they had dumped the female into her current confinement.


    His brow furrowed as he cross-referenced the official report with personal recounts from those involved. Although collective memory would invariably have a margin of error, they all agreed that it had taken far more than dangerous amounts of chemical suppressant to put the defect down. The clinical chart noted that blood filtration was relegated to a machine while they were able to stitch her up, though the circumstances demanded a level of urgency that wouldn¡¯t be acceptable normally. They only had time to ensure she wouldn¡¯t die on the table before she began making demands to see a High Quesitar again. That meant treatment was limited to sealing most open wounds, getting lethal doses of several drugs out of her system, and a transfusion to make sure she wouldn¡¯t expire before the interrogation.


    The staff provided values for what the filter removed as an additional file, but Heroon was never one for that particular field of study, so he settled for a much easier to understand summary written under the list of compounds. It effectively stated that she should have died twice over from stimulant and coagulant abuse, and that was after disregarding the blood loss and negligent sedative injection.


    Ironically, the amount of organ damage caused by the former had prevented the latter from killing her. Her body had been shutting down anything and everything that wouldn¡¯t directly ensure immediate survival, limiting exposure to the toxic byproducts that were usually associated with stimulant overdose. Of course, that was conjecture at best; there wouldn¡¯t be any concrete conclusions until more tests could be run, which was something the patient in question was adamant in refusing.


    The brown-furred male kneaded his temple with a claw. This would have been a much shorter affair if medical was given the time to actually work. Alas, the High Elders had caught the scent of dangerous claims, and the patient was hardly willing to acquiesce during the procedure, so the defect was effectively put back together enough to make it into a cell, and not one iota more. He rubbed away the migraine and eyed the female beyond the mono-transparent wall.


    White lights in the ceiling highlighted the crimson-stained coat that wasn¡¯t fully cleaned while she was unconscious. It was mostly scrubbed to a serviceable level around her wounds, but the bandages prevented him from comparing those areas with the rest of her visible coat. He could only imagine how bad it was before. A glint on the table drew the eye to fresh blood soaking into her claws¡ªa result of the defect constantly reopening the gash in her stomach over the course of the interrogation. Her eyes had regained their lustre, though Heroon wondered how much of her recovery was related to the tale, and how much was simply her body processing the dregs of sedatives that they never had the chance to purge out of her system. She was still fairly inactive and limp, sans the moments of hatred or sorrow that appeared during important events in her story, but she was apparently quite active on the table. At least she looked somewhat alive now.


    Illia had decided to refrain from commenting since he lost his temper with her. Not that he needed to hear what she thought; the beige-furred female might have been recording all that was said, but he could see the opinion written on her face. She had shifted from being outraged by someone asserting that a defect could bond to being completely disinterested, having determined that the entire tale was fiction.


    Honestly, Heroon was reluctant to disagree. As much as he wanted to take this seriously, the story was filled with the impossible and the absurd. How was he supposed to believe such a facility had been constructed within their space? One that was dedicated to bonding Lilhuns with these ¡®humans,¡¯ then subsequently slaughtering the lot of them in increasingly cruel fashion? That a single defect laid waste to it with all of her purported ¡®evidence¡¯ being contained on a conveniently damaged terminal?


    The worst thing was that he still wanted it to be true. It might have been his inherent distrust of the Union, or perhaps it was because he had gained a sense of sympathy for the female locked inside the room before him despite what she was. Either way, a part of him had yet to cease scouring her words and presented proof for signs of legitimacy.


    He closed the reports, brought up his dismissed graphs, then leaned forward in his chair, reaching for the intercom while keeping an eye on the defect. Yet when he went to activate the microphone, he found himself at a loss for words. What was he to ask? They had covered everything from her initial disappearance to her eventual return, and although he suspected a great number of details had been lost to a haze of drugs and adrenaline, the parts that remained painted a rather vivid picture.


    Still, the niggling doubt remained in the recesses of his mind, wondering what he could do to confirm his suspicions. There had to be a reason for her behaviour, especially when her first reaction upon waking up during treatment is to rip the blood filtration tubes out. The documentation is sterile, but clear. She all but suffered a panic attack when they tried to seal her wounds, despite their insistence that the procedures were needed to stop her demise. Only when the staff agreed to release her into security¡¯s possession did she calm down.


    Why? It was well-established how bleak her future would be after her disappearance, and if she had truly bonded as she claimed, then it was baffling she had yet to answer the Void¡¯s call now that she was alone. What could she possibly have left to hold more dear than life itself? More accurately, what was worth suffering for?


    His claw pressed down on the intercom.


    ¡°Special Tactics Officer ¡®Demo,¡¯¡± he began, cycling a long breath. This would require some finesse. ¡°To ensure that I understand the contents discussed, I will reiterate some of your claims, and you will verify that I have not made any errors in my interpretation.¡±


    The pale-furred female scowled slightly, but returned a terse nod.


    ¡°Then let us begin. You abandoned your post to participate in an experimental treatment¡ªone that resulted in a modification of your physiology. Amongst the possessions you carried was an unspecified quantity of restricted chemicals and compounds that were taken with the intent to create demolition charges, though you cite recreational purposes as the primary motivation.¡±


    ¡°That is correct,¡± she affirmed.


    Heroon didn¡¯t need to check over his observations yet. If nothing else, her absence was documented, but the reason for it was still up for scrutiny. True to her word, a message had been distributed around the time of her disappearance, calling for soldiers to guard several landing locations, so she did leave within the described period. A manifest of items left in her vacated room detailed the remainder of materials she claimed to have taken as well. All of that was verifiable.


    The destructive cargo was a matter he would have to bring up with command another time. For some reason, nobody thought it was important to catalogue how much highly explosive material was being stockpiled by a single soldier. What it was ultimately used for is irrelevant; specialization or not, the female had taken a shocking amount of controlled substances without a single soul being aware. The fact that it went missing was enough for him to dread the impending paperwork he needed to submit. He suspected that whoever was in charge of distributing it had just given the defect whatever she asked for to make her leave faster, which added even more forms to the pile.


    He felt the migraine press against his skull.


    ¡°After said modification, you were asked to reside in a den that you could not leave without outside interference, and to become a cohabitant to a species that the Lilhun have no record of. You insist this is the case despite the years of our people being engaged in preliminary negotiations with the Union, and how we have yet to hear even a whisper regarding said unknown species.¡±


    ¡°They are ¡®humans,¡¯¡± she corrected, a slight shadow of a snarl slipping into her expression.


    ¡°Please adhere to verifying the accuracy of these statements.¡±


    She glowered, but eventually relented. ¡°¡­That is correct, High Quesitar.¡±


    ¡°Following a brief trial where you discover the properties of your purported condition, you lose the provided translation device, then are given a replacement by the alien in question¡ªa replacement that you no longer possess.¡±


    Claws scraped against metal inside the containment as the female tightened her paws into fists. He shared the sense of frustration at this point; as absurd as it was, simply being in the same room would confirm the results of any strange medical procedure. That alone would lend mountains of credence, but as things stood, he couldn¡¯t break protocol.


    ¡°Correct.¡± The contained one averted her gaze to hide her anger, but not before Heroon spotted a hint of guilt. It was a curious reaction, yet still aligned with what he surmised of her character.


    ¡°You and the alien develop something of a friendly relationship over the course of your cohabitation, during which, you¡ªa defective¡ª¡®bond¡¯ to them. You report that this is the case regardless of the inherent incompatibility between our kind and others, as well as the exceedingly well-documented records regarding those of your condition being incapable of a bond at all.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she ground out between clenched teeth. So questioning her bond seemed to be a point of contention? Interesting. She was irritated by it before, but needling the issue seemed to elicit a more severe reaction.


    ¡°The alien leaves and is reported as deceased. Because of such, you are left to your own devices for an extended period of time. You make this claim while also aware of how detrimental the extensive isolation would be to an unbonded Lilhun, let alone one in possession of the Mother¡¯s gift.¡±


    ¡°That is correct.¡±


    ¡°Once a member of staff arrives, you scent your cohabitant on them, kill them, take the device that you have since submitted as evidence, then set out to find the missing alien. I am required to reiterate how this conflicts with your recorded condition.¡±


    ¡°¡­Yes.¡±


    Heroon raised a brow, suppressing the urge to jump at the opportunity. ¡°Is there an inaccuracy in my understanding? You hesitated.¡±


    The pale-furred female controlled the ire on her visage. ¡°No, high one.¡±


    He held his gaze on her for a moment. The unsettling sense of staring into the Void tickled at his senses. ¡°Moving on¡­ Having exited the den, you set traps and explosives while fleeing Union forces, meeting another member of the unknown species¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªGreg,¡± she interjects tersely, refusing to look away from the table. ¡°The male¡¯s name was Greg.¡±


    ¡°Another member of the unknown species,¡± he repeated pointedly, shifting in his chair to restrain his curiosity. ¡°They give you yet another device which grants you unfettered access to numerous maintenance tunnels. They perish during a confrontation with Union security, while you are left but a breath from death, then discarded as a corpse. You survive by pure chance, allowing you to continue your pursuit unimpeded for a time.¡±


    ¡°That is¡­correct.¡± The pause went unquestioned. He could practically hear her blood pressure rising, and she needed to be pushed at the right times in order for this to go the way he wanted.


    ¡°During your ascension through the facility¡¯s levels, you encounter a security member that provides you with advanced navigational capabilities, which you use to make your way to the missing cohabitant whose death had been falsely reported. Reunited, you and the alien flee pursuit until said member of the unknown species actually expires.¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she growled, earning even more of Heroon''s attention. The question now was if the reaction was because of his feigned refusal to acknowledge the species was really that infuriating, or if something else was at play. All he was sure of was that he wanted to quell the disparaging part of himself that still believed her.


    ¡°Following their death, you reset your progress in escaping to fulfill a perceived desire of said alien, proceed to liberate an unspecified quantity of our kin¡ªthe majority of whom had also miraculously ¡®bonded¡¯ to members of this unknown species. You lead them through combat to procure a ship, yet the resulting size of the group who were able to take said ship was but a fraction of those under your presumed command. Upon lifting the restrictions to the cockpit, your life is saved by a third member of the unknown species, yet again costing them their life. You are then forced into the escape shuttle against your will by a grieving male, and consequently ejected from the ship mere moments before it succumbs to an enemy anti-aircraft missile barrage. The explosives that were previously placed are then activated by you via a monocopter that had fallen out of your bag, acting as a relay.¡±


    Heroon didn¡¯t bother to hide the exasperated huff. ¡°After demolishing the facility, you do not recall much besides setting the travel vector of the shuttle, the subsequent crash landing, waking up from your induced slumber inside the medical wing, then being transferred to your current containment¡­ Is that everything?¡±


    The female nodded silently, though he could see the combination of anger and sadness in her eyes. He released a long sigh, wondering what about the tale urged him to place faith in the words of a defect.


    But it was only when one separated from their instincts that they could truly trust them, and his instincts told him something was missing. Something that should have been unveiled before now, yet had remained concealed. He had a feeling that he knew why as well.


    He just had to be right.


    The brown-furred male once again adjusted the collar of his suit, preparing the final bait that would put him under heavy scrutiny. Hopefully, it was worth the reprimand. ¡°I offer my sincerest apologies, low one, but we simply lack evidence to support your claims.¡±


    She snapped her gaze back to the wall between them, her pupils wide in both fear and disbelief. He continued before she could spiral into the panic attack brewing beneath the surface.


    ¡°Where is the other terminal?¡±


    Illia stopped transcribing, turning to look at him with palpable confusion, yet the High Quesitar held the stare of the defect, ignoring the barrier between them. It was fortunate that he did. Otherwise, he would have missed the vengeful, bloodthirsty expression before it was forced into neutrality.


    ¡°It is in your possession, yes?¡± he pressed tersely. His heart beat just a bit faster. Just a bit harder. He wanted any other reaction, but seeing the near instantaneous slip only replaced his dismissive demeanour with one of true caution. For the briefest of moments, he prayed she would say no, or would be scrambling to cover the oversight with haphazard reasoning to support her tale.


    ¡°What might have inspired such an assumption?¡± the pale-furred female inquired coldly instead. All hints of nervousness or hesitation faded from her visage, an almost vicious undertone coating her words. It was a challenge. A threat. He had stepped on something she was willing to court death over.


    Heroon tensed unwillingly. ¡°You have not regaled us with the moment of its loss, but it does not rest with the other objects submitted as evidence. I have it on record that you all but attacked the medical staff during your treatment, yet you have been perfectly compliant since removed from their touch.¡±


    A lingering silence was her response. She seemed content to let him finish his thought, boring into the mono-transparent wall with a glower that would melt steel.


    ¡°I would wager that they were going to clean your stomach wound,¡± he drawled, putting confidence he didn¡¯t feel into his lowered voice. ¡°Would they have found a foreign object in the process? Did the fear of having it taken supersede the haze of chemicals? The thought of your form sealing it away makes it itch, does it not? That is why you have been diligent in slicing the flesh anew; you wish it available on a whim. Why have you not submitted it?¡±


    Illia took a breath to berate him for humouring the defect¡¯s delusions, but he silenced her with a raised paw, giving his den-mate a look that asked for patience. She acquiesced, though not without making her displeasure known through a disgruntled huff.


    The defect maintained her quiet glare until a shimmer of dampness formed in her eyes. A blink redirected her gaze. ¡°I am surprised you deign to consider my feelings in such a deduction.¡±


    ¡°¡®Be he who gazes upon his form as he gazes upon his antithesis, and be he who sees beyond the veil of self,¡¯¡± he quoted sagely.


    ¡°¡®Or be he who sacrifices his form, scattering his fragments to the wind, for he who views the world through a thousand refractions is he who sees truth within the shards,¡¯¡± she uttered in a mechanical, reflexive manner.


    The verse slotted into a vacancy in his memory, though that did little to settle his unease. The Crystal Lens, Aspect of The Stars¡ªthe opposite Aspect of his own. He didn¡¯t have time to question why it put him on edge before she posed a question.


    ¡°What would the church make of my tale, high one?¡±


    He mentally reeled from the non-sequitur. ¡°Pardon?¡±


    ¡°As your assistant has demonstrated, our faithful find the prospect of obtaining the Mother¡¯s gift from one not of our kin to be distasteful. Furthermore, to discover that her ¡®abandoned¡¯ kits are compatible? To learn that a species held from us might be the missing piece many Lilhuns have been searching for?¡± She shook her head ruefully. ¡°Were my possession to fall into the wrong paws, it would disappear into obscurity, and with it, my purpose. I could not trust those unknown, High Quesitar. Many would react in such negative ways.¡±


    The female dragged a paw off the table as she spoke, a dull sucking sound punctuating her grimace. Bloodied claws dropped a strange device on the previously off-white surface.


    ¡°If the worst were to occur, then the information contained on this terminal would spread like wildfire, bringing forth factions we had once worked so hard to bury with time. Some would seek to purge all heresy related to perceived false words, others could seek to wage an isolated war against the Union for tampering with the divine, and yet more¡ªhowever few¡ªmight see such as an affront to the Hunt Mother herself, blaming the rest of our people for discriminating against those we call ¡®defective.¡¯ Conflict would consume us all during a period we can only afford unity.¡±


    Heroon wanted to dismiss the assertion as his attention fell to the crimson-stained object that now dominated the containment. He wanted to call it all pointless drivel¡­but he was well within a station to know just how precarious of a balancing act the UM performed to quell the populace. And that was just dealing with the lingering age-old feud between the clans of millennia ago¡ªfeuds brought back to light since the Union made themselves known. If one of the medical staff happened across the device and were overly curious, then decided to make the contents known¡­


    ¡°You sought to prevent a species-wide civil war?¡± he choked out, shocked at how¡­possible the absurd claim was. A mirthless laugh poured through the speakers in a single, defeated bark.


    ¡°No,¡± the contained one admitted wryly. ¡°It merely holds the last information I have pertaining to my bond¡ªhis name, his lineage, his kin¡­ The moment it is submitted as evidence of my experience is the moment I lose the only thing I have left of him. I am familiar with protocol enough to know that I will never see this again.¡±


    He took a surprisingly difficult breath, struggling to process the existence of an object he had mostly assumed to be fictional. Illia¡¯s silence didn¡¯t escape his notice.


    ¡°It was¡­ Your tale¡­?¡± he whispered.


    The defect nodded softly, grabbing then fiddling with the oddly shaped terminal. When she placed it back on the table, a video was playing underneath the sheen of red; the recording showed a Lilhun male strapped to a chair¡­and a furless¡­biped¡­


    Heroon shot out of his chair and left the room before he could even gather his senses, deaf to his den-mate¡¯s shouts of confusion. By the time he registered that he had moved at all, he was standing before the containment doors, the overhead hiss warning the occupants of an additional person. The room opened before him, the off-white contents differing only where a pale-furred female sat, and the bloody device atop the table. The diminutive Lilhun glanced over with a morbid smile.


    Yet all he could focus on was the smell of bloodlust radiating off of her.


    Sunundra turned in her chair to face him, inadvertently displaying the matted, ichor-sodden fur of her stomach. ¡°After our kin strike down the Union, when the High Elders send our forces to find the humans¡ªand they will, if only to assuage their curiosity¡ªI wish to be aboard the first ship.¡±


    He resisted the instinctual urge to defend himself, clenching his fists to discourage his claws from extending. His voice came out dry and growled. ¡°Why?¡±


    The amiable facade fell from her face, shifting to an expression that matched her scent. ¡°There is a promise I must uphold, high one, and I will allow nothing to prevent me from doing so.¡±


    Heroon stayed steadfast in his composure, paying no mind to the creeping feeling that he was but one wrong word from choking on sharpened shards of shattered glass.


    ¡°Assistant? Push the transcript. Priority.¡±


    = = = = =


    Sunundra gasped awake, her heart hammering away in her chest. It took a moment to drag the spectres of the past away from the reality of the present. She closed her eyes long enough to calm the desperate breaths into something that could scent the air, letting herself quell the ever-present sense of unease.


    Pale moonlight poured into the room through hexagonal skylights, only slightly dimmed by the translucent solar cells embedded into the glass. Alien woods of brown coloured the walls and ceiling, yet the stark difference from the greys and whites of her memory bled off the worst of her disorientation. It was a shade one would rarely ever see on Iras or aboard a UM ship, but it was also one she had since come to find familiar. Comforting. Her dried tongue passed over her lips as she calmed down, and a clicking facsimile of a purr dragged her the rest of the way to cognizance.


    She tilted her head down, a gentle smile forming on her muzzle as she confirmed the source of the noise. A massive yellow insect cuddled into her side atop the large bed she was resting on, ignoring the fact that it was twice her size in order to indulge in closeness. Six segmented legs were folded beneath a broad arachnid abdomen, the mantis-like upright torso laid flat during its rest, the two scythe-ended arms safely tucked to its chest. Scales and hard carapace adorned its exoskeleton in alternating stripes that shimmered pearlescent hues in the soft illumination.


    Most would see the alien as a walking weapon, and given the sheer lethality the species was capable of, they¡¯d be right. Yet the defect stroked along the kind insect¡¯s back, pleased when its purrs shifted into those of a deep slumber. The Atmo queen often spent her suns with the nest, but would occasionally find her way into the pale-furred female¡¯s bed when sleep seemed to escape it, despite having another as her advisor. Sunundra never complained; those moons tended to match up with when she had nightmares, so the company was appreciated.


    So much had happened since she first came across the imposing creatures. When she commanded her pack to pursue the trails of escape shuttles, the last thing anyone expected was to come across the natural walking Void that were taller than most Lilhun. At the time, she saw an enemy to be disposed of. Or she did, until they got close enough to see a significantly smaller, yellow insect screeching while desperately trying to elicit a reaction from an unmoving other of its kind.


    The Atmo youth had lost its caretaker almost immediately after crashing onto an unknown planet, and was far too overtaken by grief to notice potential predators creeping towards them. The other insects who gathered around in sympathy were equally unprepared, yet were unable to ask their adolescent queen for direction on what they should be doing. They weren¡¯t ready for the looming threat of death that Sunundra and her pack represented. The other insects were stuck between fleeing and aiding their young leader¡¯s escape, despite the latter¡¯s unwillingness to leave behind a newly deceased loved one.


    The defective was but a word from ordering the execution of the venerable weapons. Then, the comparatively tiny, sorrow-stricken Atmo saw them.


    A kit was what stepped forward, gesturing for the others to seek safety while approaching the ones who sought her end. A kit was what begged for mercy at the cost of her own life, though the language barrier made such a request difficult to convey. Indeed¡­it was a kit that had lost everything it cared for, yet was willing to sacrifice what little it had left to see its kin live another sun, because that was what its loved one would have wanted.


    Sunundra had stared down the barrel of her firearm at a young soul doing the only thing it could think of to make its suffering worthwhile, the wounds of mourning painfully visible in its every action.


    ¡®You¡¯re a kind person, miss.¡¯


    The defect shook her head. Too much time had passed since then, yet she still found herself wondering what would have happened to her if she hadn¡¯t given the Atmo shelter amidst her pack. It seemed like a bitter urge to help a past version of herself, in a way, yet the decision had given her much over the years. She took care to get off the bed and leave the room without waking Daisy.


    The hallway was wide and tall, the left leading to more bedrooms, while the right led to the rest of the den. She went right, passing through the double doors to enter the hub, then another set to access the facilities wing of the building. A stop to the kitchen let her grab a drink before she headed back, passing by the other rooms of various utilities. She never spent much time in them, save for when Pan wished for company while Sunundra was visiting. As interesting as watching the others work is, there was a limit to how comfortable she could be while interrupting the normal flow of things. This was not her den, regardless of how accommodating the Heads were and how insistent their leader was. She was fine with just being allowed to stay as often as she did.


    The hub opened up for her once more, the broad circular space illuminated by a domed ceiling sporting more paw-sized skylights. Tables and furniture transformed the huge space into a commons area, where meals were shared amongst friends, and members of the pack lounged with those of different stations with little concern of whose authority outranked who. It was a frequent sight for the lowest members of the pack to converse with those at the top, neither party much bothering with formalities. Kits would storm the building to find their favourite alien, groups of nearly-blind young following their Atmo chaperone to and fro. Violet adored the attention, and sometimes offered rides to the smallest.


    Sunundra felt a chuckle building in her chest as she remembered a certain someone bemoaning his new menagerie of Lilhun kit-shaped accessories after his Atmo daughter decided to deliver them all at once. Despite the complaints, the scent of jovial resignation was just as clear as his groaning. His mates certainly found amusement in his predicament.


    She went back to the dormitory wing, only somewhat paying attention as she followed her nose past her assigned room, stopping at another near the end of the hall. The sounds of soft snores and tiny mewls effortlessly escaped the partially open doorway, and she found herself pushing it the rest of the way, pulled by something far deeper than thought.


    The room was the same size as her own temporary lodgings, albeit furnished differently. A desk with various half-finished projects lay against the side wall, a dozen prototypes littering its surface. A stringed instrument hung off a simple holder near the window. What would have been an absolutely excessive size for a bed instead proved its value, the pile of bodies filling it perfectly, no matter how many of the den decide to occupy it.


    Furs of various colours took up the sleeping space. Pan¡¯s white was nestled inside of Tel¡¯s gunmetal grey. Nalah¡¯s blonde was mixed with Sahari¡¯s black. Jax¡¯s own dark coat blended into Harrow¡¯s orange, his arm covering his mate and cradling the two infants that shared a mix of their blood-parent¡¯s hues. A purple carapace lay stretched across the bottom of the bed, either on top of or underneath various feet without complaint from anyone involved. All of this surrounded the single participant who lacked fur at all¡ªthe one who each and every other person would face the Void itself for, as he would for them.


    She moved before she could really question it, gingerly stepping over the mass of tangled limbs that unconsciously shifted to allow another occupant. A moment¡¯s deliberation had her choose a spot that was close to the centre, but not directly imposing on the others too much. Although she was welcomed many times to join their rest, she typically refrained unless one of the others threw her into the pile. She quietly mumbled her protests when that happened, knowing that no one was actually listening. It was best that they didn¡¯t.


    The pile shifted again once she was more or less situated and ready to forget the nightmare that plagued her every so often. It never truly left her. She would escape her doomed lifestyle, find Bill, fall hopelessly in love with her bond, then crumble as she failed to do anything again and again. It never got easier. It never stopped hurting. Nothing ever combated the sense of loss.


    Well, almost nothing.


    She felt an arm wrap around her back just as she was comfortable. The owner of the limb pulled as he always did, dragging her entire form until she was pressed against his chest, his chin resting on her head. No matter how much she chastised herself for it, she knew why she came into his room when the nightmares struck, and why she visited his settlement as often as she did.


    It was for the well known habit he possessed that rendered any in his bed as a potential sacrifice to his slumbering embrace. It was a habit she would never admit to cherishing, nor taking advantage of, though she also knew that the others were aware and just chose not to say anything. She didn¡¯t resist his unintentional caress. Not that him being awake changed much; he was a very physically affectionate human. Still, she adjusted for the position, and the pile adjusted with her, swallowing the otherwise empty space. Soon, all were as peacefully asleep as when she entered, some including her in their protective postures. Daisy would be along whenever she awoke, joining her purple-coloured sister in the mix, and the pile would shift anew, welcoming yet another addition without fuss.


    Until then, Sunundra was allowed a brief period where none would notice her dampening fur as she nuzzled ever deeper into the male¡¯s touch, all but drowning herself in his scent. Ever since the first moon he inadvertently pulled her in during his rest, where she wept uncontrollably for far too long, she craved the feeling of fulfilled melancholy that came with it. The smell of pheromones that were different from her bond¡¯s, yet were not wrong, and would never gouge her soul. No, it didn¡¯t complete her like Bill¡¯s did, but it soothed the jagged edges left behind and warmed the frozen depths his absence caused.


    It was the scent that told her she had found what her bond desired, if only by immeasurable chance. Even when she had failed a part of his wish so horribly, she could still uphold some of it, and it was sleepless moons like this that she allowed herself the comfort that came with being reminded of that.


    A sudden inhale from the male cradling her in his arms made her stifle a sob, a groggy mix of Lilhun and English crawling out of his throat, gravelly and soft. ¡°Wassup, Sunshine? Bad dream?¡±


    Her words caught in her throat, a tiny nod being all she could manage as a response for the only other person she would allow to use the moniker.


    ¡°Mm. ¡®s okay,¡± Joseph murmured, tightening his hold and rubbing her back with his five-clawed paw. White and grey tails navigated the pile to add the touch, unconsciously following their mate¡¯s concern, while roused others made sure they included her in the shared snuggling. She was enveloped by their care without protest, one of the kits catching and cuddling her tail. ¡°We¡¯re here for ya, m¡¯kay? Jus¡¯ lemme know if you need sum¡¯in.¡±


    She nodded again, melting more than she thought possible as the pile fell back asleep.


    ¡®You should know¡­what it¡¯s like to be around¡­people who care¡­ People who love you.¡¯


    Sunundra¡¯s tears returned with force, as they always did every time this set of events happened. She found herself swimming amongst the warmth of those who not only knew of her altered condition, but who welcomed her in spite of it. Swimming in the scent that wasn¡¯t Bill¡¯s, yet carried so much of it that it was unmistakably of his making.


    The pale-furred female smiled, succumbing to her fatigue. The nightmare was put aside for another moon, for the remainder of this one was a wonderful dream instead¡ªa dream that was somehow real.


    After everything she suffered, and everything she sacrificed, she had found what she was looking for. She found a way to uphold the promise that wasn¡¯t hers, a pack that accepted her regardless of her condition, and a people who loved her for who she was. Finally, after losing what she most held dear, she found a reason to live. To be happy.


    Just as she always should have been.