PREDATORY PRACTICES
A Tech Infantry Novella
by
Edward Stasheff & Marcus Johnston
Copyright © 2011

 

Chapter 23: A Deal's a Deal

(click here for galactic map)

It was well past nightfall when Miu finally drifted up to a mid-level entrance of Capital Hall and deflated onto the wide ledge, followed by the most trusted member of her corporate security staff—a woman, of course.  Spending over a week cooped up in a passenger liner cabin with a male escort would have been a very bad idea, given that it was the mating season and Miu's hormones were currently waging a pitched battle with her brain cells for control of her body.

She took a moment to smooth down her wind-ruffled fur, then tapped her claws on the clear plasteel door of Capital Hall, fluffy tail swishing with impatience.  Inside, the bored security guard looked up in annoyance, but perked up instantly the moment he saw Miu, ears swiveling in her direction.  Miu hid a small smile behind her whiskers, used to such reactions.  She understood perfectly the effect she had on males—and during the mating season, she didn't even have to try.

The sentry crossed to the door and hit the intercom.  "I'm terribly sorry," he said, being unnecessarily polite, "but Capital Hall is closed for business.  Please return tomorrow, we open—"

"Yes, I know," Miu cut him off, her voice courteous but firm.  She was tired, jetlagged, and not in the mood to waste time.  She pressed up her business card up against the transparent door.  "I'm here by special appointment for a meeting with Varrless K'Purrfang K'Pirr, LEO of the K'Nes Llan.  Feel free to verify that with him if you wish."

The security guard's eyes widened at her name-dropping.  "Oh, you're that K'Nes!  Yes, of course, one moment…"  He unlocked the door to let her in, but held up a paw when her bodyguard tried to follow.  "Sorry, sire, the LEO's orders are to admit only M. Prurr."

Miu's lithe escort hesitated, uncertain, then shifted her balance and glanced at Miu for instruction.  Miu paused a moment, then let out a weary sigh and nodded.  "It's alright, Hhatha.  If I'm not safe in Capital Hall, I'm not safe anywhere.  Just wait outside—I'll be back soon, this won't take long."

The sentry waved a paw at the walk-through weapon detector.  "Please step this way, M. Prurr, this should only take a moment."  True to his word, the security check was quick and cursory; it might have been even faster had the guard been able to keep his attention (and eyes) on the task.  It wasn't surprising; she'd worn her best (and tightest) business suit for the occasion, her fur was freshly brushed and braided, and she was marinating in floral perfume in an attempt to drown out the musk of the mating season… unsuccessfully, evidently, given how the sentry's whiskers twitched as he sniffed the air, enjoying her scent.  Miu was more amused than offended—besides, he was rather attractive, and… she quickly pushed that thought out of her mind; she was here to sign Articles of Procreation with Varrless, after all.

"I'm sorry, M. Prurr," the security guard apologized, "but I'm afraid I'll have to inspect your briefcase, too."

"Yes, of course," Miu agreed, gracing him with a mischievous smile.  "What's next, a strip search?"  She winked at him, and enjoyed watching him squirm, growing even more distracted with that mental image in his head as he sifted through the contents of her briefcase.  Suddenly he pulled out a pneumatic syringe and examined it.  "Uh… what exactly is this, M. Prurr?"

"Oh!" Miu said, slightly surprised herself.  She'd carried around the anti-Horadrim device Heth had commissioned her to build to defend herself against McNeilly for so long, she'd almost forgotten she still had it.  It was, technically, a weapon—but the sentry didn't need to know that.  Miu thought fast.  "Well, er… this is a little embarrassing, but…"  She lowered her eyes and her voice.  "It's my birth control.  Pirr contractually obligated me to a limited number of conceptions, to ensure his assets aren't spread too thin among his cubs when they inherit on his death."

"Oh.  Yes, I see."  He gazed down, tail twitching in mild embarrassment.  He promptly replaced the syringe in the briefcase, closed it, and handed it back to Miu.  "Top floor executive suite, M. Prurr.  The First Patriarch is expecting you."

"With any luck, I'll be expecting soon, too!"  Miu flashed him a brilliant grin.  "Gainful day."  She continued on her way, hearing the faint longing sigh from the sentry behind her, quickly forgotten.

The ancient stone halls were all but deserted as she made her way toward Pirr's penthouse office.  Despite the meeting's importance, Miu just wanted to get the contract signing over with as quickly as possible and get some sleep.  She was exhausted.  Still, although scheduling the conference so late after the close of business was inconvenient, she understood the need for it: markets were volatile, information was valuable, time was money, and money never slept.  Timing was crucial for Miu's company to get the best bump in its stock price.

Pirr had made a compelling argument: they needed enough time for Varrless Financial's legal department to process the Articles of Procreation, but not so early that the news could leak and the markets react before Pirr and Miu's press conference the next morning—right before the markets opened, of course—announcing their reproductive merger.  And what better time to sign the paperwork than when half of Purrfang was asleep?  Miu found such reasoning was hard to argue with.

Miu floated silently along the venerable stone corridors until she reached the waiting room outside of Varrless's office.  His secretary was gone, but his office door wide open.  She hesitated a moment, then drifted into the ornately decorated room and deflated.  "Gainful day, Pirr!" she greeted him, cowering politely.

A holoproj display winked off the second she entered.  Varrless looked up from the perch behind his desk.  "Ah yes, Prurr K'Aou K'Miu.  It's about time.  Good to finally meet you."  He was silent a moment, undressing her with his eyes, whiskers twitching as he sniffed her scent.  "My my, you are a cute little kitten, aren't you?"

That made her slightly uncomfortable, but Miu forced a smile anyway.  "Why thank you!" she purred, looking away demurely—and suddenly noticed they weren't alone.  A black-suited human sat in a chair—an actually chair, not a cushion or perch—tapping on a datapad.  "Oh!  I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had a guest in here.  This is the witness for the contract signing, I assume?"

"Uh… yes, right," Pirr said.  "May I introduce Zechariah McNeilly, an envoy from the Holy Terran Empire."

Miu froze at the name—but only for an instant.  She'd been through enough hard negotiations to know how to suppress surprise—or fear.  "A pleasure to meet you," she said courteously—but instantly thought of the syringe in her briefcase, and wondered how quickly she could get to it if she needed to.  For his part, McNeilly mere gave her a quick disinterested half-glance, a grunt and a nod, then went back to tapping on his datapad.

"Well… shall we get down to business, then?" Miu asked Pirr, pulling a datapad from her briefcase.  "I have the final Articles of Procreation draft here.  I've made no more changes, but feel free to check if you want."

"I do," Pirr answered, grabbing the pad.  Their lawyers had haggled over the details and exact wording for weeks, but Varrless scanned the text anyway, just to make sure Miu hadn't tried to slip anything in at the last moment.  Finally he nodded.  "Everything seems to be in order."  He held the datapad out to her.  "Shall we sign?"

"Absolutely."  Miu reached out, grabbed the corner of the datapad, and felt the brief sting as tiny needles drew their blood signatures.  "Congratulations, Pirr.  I'm looking forward to our new reproductive partnership!"

"Finally!  It's about time!"  McNeilly sighed as he stood, sliding his datapad into the inside breast pocket of his jacket.  "Alright, Pirr, let's get this over with," the Horadrim said, stretching and cracking his knuckles.  "So, what do you want to make it look like this time?  Accident?  Suicide?  Natural causes?  Or just make her disappear, like we did with that fat old cat a few weeks ago?"

Miu froze and looked up, alarmed.  "Pirr?  What's he talking about?"

"No, no disappearances this time," Varrless said, packing up his briefcase.  "After all, if I'm to inherit, I do need a body."  Pirr put his hat on and headed for the door.  "Otherwise, feel free to use your discretion."

"A… a body?"  Miu's fur began bristling in fear.  "Wha… what do you mean, Pirr?  What's going on?"

"I'll be leaving now, McNeilly.  I find your work necessary, but… distasteful," Varrless said.  "Oh, and try not to leave such a big mess this time.  Cleaners who ask no questions and forget what they see are terribly expensive."

"You're going to have him kill me?" Miu gasped, backing away from the grinning alien.  "But… you just invested five million credits in me, Pirr!" she said, trying to talk him out of it.  "If I die, all that money will be wasted!"

Varrless paused, then turned back to her.  "Quite frankly, M. Prurr, you're worth far more to me dead than alive.  Oh, don't look at me like that!  This is just business—it's nothing personal!"  With that, he turned and left.

Miu stared after him in shock, her heart pounding.  Not personal?  My death is about as personal as it gets!

"Okay, you cats like deals, right?"  McNeilly stepped closer, towering over Miu.  "Alright, here's one: you don't struggle, and I'll make this quick and painless.  But you cause me any trouble… and all bets are off.  Got it?"

Miu tried to stay calm, her mind racing.  She had at least one chance to survive.  Heth—somehow—had seen this all coming, and made sure she was protected.  She just needed to get to the syringe.  Miu straightened her back and looked McNeilly in the eye.  "Fair enough."  She nodded.  "Given that I have little to bargain with, that seems like a fair offer—on one condition: you give me a few minutes to put my affairs in order.  Deal?"

"Aw, you still have your pride.  That's so cute."  McNeilly shrugged.  "Eh… sure, why not?  It's not like you can call your bodyguard for help—or anyone, for that matter.  Pirr blacked out communications when he left.  We've done this a few times before, you know."

A chill swept through Miu, but she casually opened her briefcase and pulled out a datapad—and palmed the pneumatic syringe.  She tapped the screen, stalling, pretending to work until McNeilly began to grow impatient.

"I gotta admit," he said, suspicious, "you seem pretty calm for someone who knows they're about to die."

"It's a simple cost-benefit analysis," Miu replied.  "I know when a negotiation is lost.  My chances to fight or escape successfully are slim to none, given that you're Horadrim.  The best way to cut my losses is cooperation."

McNeilly narrowed his eyes.  "How the hell did you know that I wa—"

"Please, M. McNeilly," Miu cut him off.  "K'Nes are greedy, not stupid."  She crossed to him and held out the datapad.  "Please give this to Pirr."  The second he grabbed it, Miu stabbed the syringe down on his hand.

She might as well have been stabbing stone.  The syringe glanced off with a clink.  It didn't even discharge.  Miu stared, shocked and horrified.  She wasn't expecting that—and she had no backup plan.

"Oh yeah," McNeilly said with a nasty grin.  "I can turn my skin to armor at will.  Didn't I mention that?"  Suddenly he swung with incredible strength, knocking Miu clear across the room.  She yowled in pain as she crashed into the far wall and collapsed to the floor.  It was all she could do to keep hold of the syringe.

The Horadrim strode toward her, one hand morphing to a black insectoid claw.  "Bad Kitty!" he sneered, then swung down, sized her neck, and yanked her off the ground.  She thrashed about yowling, biting and clawing at his arm uselessly.  His other hand shifted into a shiny black blade.  "Congratulations!" he said, enjoying himself.  "You just won a free upgrade from natural causes to suicide!  It'll still be quick, but it's gonna hur—GGRRK!"

Lighting fast, Miu rammed the syringe through his mouth into the back of his throat—where he wasn't armored.  She heard it hiss as it discharged.  McNeilly instantly dropped her, yanking the syringe out of his mouth with his claw-hand.  The second Miu's paws hit the ground, she sprinted on all fours out of the office to the waiting room outside.  She could hear McNeilly running behind her as she reached the door, seized the knob, twisted, and yanked—but it was locked.  Of course it is.  Miu spun around, looking around wildly for any other way out.  There was a large picture window—but McNeilly had strategically placed himself between her and it, cutting off her only escape.

"What the hell was in this, bitch?" he demanded, holding up the empty syringe—and, for the first time, sounding less that perfectly confident.  When Miu didn't answer, his face contorted with rage.  "Oh, forget suicide, you're gonna have a nasty accident!" he swore, waving the syringe at her for emphasis.  "They're gonna find you in pieces!  I'm gonna—"  He stopped short, staring in wide-eyed horror at his hand.  It was beginning to deform—the fingers too long, the knuckles too bulbous, and patches of pink human skin giving way to shiny black chitin.  McNeilly turned a murderous glare on Miu.  "What the hell did you do to me, bitch?"  Suddenly he snapped his arm out into a needle-sharp black spike that buried itself with a crash into the wall next to Miu's head.  She screamed in terror.  "Okay, whore, this is how it's gonna work: I'll cause you pain—a lot—until you tell me—"

McNeilly stopped abruptly, turning to look at the door to the hallway.  The knob was rattling, followed a second later by a knock and a muffled voice.  "Hello?  Miu?  Is that you?  Are you in there?  What's going on?"

McNeilly turned back to Miu and cocked an eyebrow.  "Expecting someone?"

Miu was just as confused as McNeilly—and didn't care.  "HELP!!" she screamed.  "HELP ME!!  PLEASE!!"

Whoever was outside began pounding on the door.  "Miu!" the muffled voice called.  "Miu, I'm coming!"  The door shook as someone threw their body weight against it… but the thick wood held fast.

"Just walk away, pal," McNeilly barked, "this doesn't concern you!"  He snapped out his other arm into a black spike that punched through the door.  "You come in here, and you ain't goin' out again.  You didn't see or hear anything—got it?"

The pounding stopped.  There was a pause, then a muffled voice cursing and yelling something that sounded like "sue armor clause," then paws bounding away.  Miu's last flicker of hope gave way to utter terror.

"I'll give you cats this," McNeilly nodded, "you know when to look the other way.  Now, where were we?"

Suddenly the door shattered with a loud crash as an airborne K'Nes hunter burst through it.  He slammed into McNeilly with rocket-assisted power armor, knocking the psychotic Horadrim back and sending him sprawling across the floor.  The hunter instantly deflated, landing in a crouch between Miu and her would-be murderer, claws out and humming, bladed tail swishing.  The soldier's helmet visor slid back as threw a look over his shoulder at her.  "Miu, run!  Now!"

Miu scrambled to her paws—then froze in disbelief.  She blinked.  Between the armor, military-cropped mane and no jewelry, it took her a second to recognize the small black cat with yellow eyes.  "Heth?!"

"Heth, eh?"  McNeilly jumped to his feet.  "A two-for-one deal?  You cats really do know how to bargain!"

"I'll hold him off as long as I can!" Heth hissed to Miu, sliding his visor back down.  "Get outside, you'll be safe!  GO!  NOW!  RUN!!"

Miu sprinted for the door.

"You're not going anywhere, bitch!" McNeilly sneered, charging after her.

Heth roared and launched himself at the Horadrim.

 

It was about now that Heth realized he had no idea how to kill McNeilly—but he didn't need to.  He just had to survive long enough for Miu to escape to building—if she could just get outside Capital Hall's security correspondence shield, then Kirrp could transit her back to the Avarice and safety.  Then Heth could try to escape himself—and hope McNeilly didn't chase him.  But if he did… well, Heth had a contingency plan for that, too.

Heth inflated and gunned his suit thrusters, trying to body-slam the alien again—but McNeilly anticipated the move, snapping out an arm into a long black spike to skewer Heth.  It struck his armor, glanced off the cat's inflated spherical body—and sent Heth spinning off sideways like an airborne billiard ball.

"Too easy," the Horadrim scoffed, then charged out the door and down the stone hallway after Miu.

It took a second for Heth's suit thrusters to stabilize him out of the spin, but then Heth shot after NcNeilly like an arrow.  He closed the distance in seconds, dive-bombed McNeilly's legs, and slashed at the alien's ankles.  The monomolecular claws clanked against the Horadrim's armored skin—then ripped through in a spray of black bile.  McNeilly stumbled and fell.  Heth pounced.  Suddenly McNeilly's body burst into a sphere of spikes—and Heth hit his thrusters barely in time carry him over and past the alien.  At least Heth blocked the path to Miu now.

"Ow!  That hurt!" McNeilly exclaimed, more in surprise than pain.  "How the hell did you do that?"  The spikes shot back into the Horadrim's body as he jumped to his feet—and staggered.  He clutched at the wall for balance, a shocked look on his face, and shot a glance at his ankles.  "What th—that should have healed by now!"

Miu injected him with the nanobots to shut down his Soul Web! Heth realized—and couldn't help baring his fangs in a vicious grin.  I might just survive this!  "Never cheat a K'Nes, McNeilly!" Heth snarled at the Horadrim.  "We know how to deal with contract-breakers… like finding a new use for those nanos you left behind!"

McNeilly's face contorted in fury.  His arms morphed into wicked blades.  "What the hell have you done!?"  he bellowed as he rushed Heth, black blades flashing as he swung.  Heth shot up across the high ceiling, over and past McNeilly's head.  Caught off guard, the Horadrim only managed an awkward backhanded upward swing, his blades grazing Heth but lacking enough force to penetrate the cat's armor.  McNeilly cursed and ran after Heth.

That's right, you crook! Heth thought.  Chase me!  Not Miu—me!  He rocketed down the hallway, back into the waiting room outside Varrless's office where he had considerably more room to maneuver.  "Not so tough without your precious Soul Web, are you?" Heth mocked McNeilly, trying to keep him angry and prone to mistakes.

The Horadrim burst into the room, screaming and cursing as he attacked, swinging hard and fast but wild.  McNeilly fought fast and ferociously, alternating between slashing blades and stabbing spikes… but the little flying cat seemed always just beyond his reach.  Heth zoomed around the room at top speed, bobbing and weaving in the evasive patterns Narrah had drilled into him, roaring taunts and insults and at the enraged Horadrim.

"Stop… moving… dammit!" McNeilly yelled in frustration.  The more the Horadrim used his Soul Web, the faster it seemed to break down.  The alien's face grew less human, his body quickly deforming into a hunched, elongated skeletal form, his pink skin cracking and melting into a glistening black insectoid carapace.  His spikes grew blunt, his blades dull—even when he landed glancing blows on the cat, he couldn't pierce Heth's armor.

Maybe he can't heal anymore either, Heth thought—and suddenly veered toward McNeilly, hoping to strafe the alien's face with his claws as he sped by.  He watched the Horadrim closely as he closed the distance, knowing he could dodge a swing or stab—then gasped in horror when McNeilly's arm shifted into what could only be described as a gigantic black paddle, swinging down with all his strength right at Heth's face.

Only the cat's armor saved his neck from snapping.  Heth was slammed back across the room, then ricocheted off the wall right back at McNeilly—who thrust his arm out, not into one big spike, but several… 

One spine struck at just the right angle to pierced the cat's armor—in one side and out the other.  Heth screamed like a little kitten as pain exploded through his side and he was slammed back against the wall.  He heard the crunch as the spike buried itself in the wooden wainscoting behind him, pinning Heth in place.  A tiny part of his brain noted it was only a flesh wound—clean through his air sac, hitting nothing more vital than hydrogen—but the rest of his mind flooded with agony.

McNeilly snickered in insane joy.  He looked only vaguely humanoid by now, some sort of nightmarish insect-lizard-thing in a black suit and tie.  He morphed the other spikes back into the one that had pierced Heth, making it wider, the wound deeper.  Heth screamed and screamed, wondering if he would pass out from the pain.  He scratched weakly at the spike with his metal claws—but the Horadrim's inhuman face contorted in effort as he concentrated on healing whatever damage Heth managed to do.  McNeilly slowly raised his other arm up as it transformed into a huge black hatchet—and smiled.  Heth looked up at him through a haze of pain… and froze.

If there was one thing Heth knew how to do, it was to keep a stone face—he'd had countless hard deals to practice.  And he could not—could NOT—let McNeilly know that at that moment, Heth was watching Miu float silently back into the room, paws up, claws out, sneaking up behind the Horadrim.  If Heth gave McNeilly any reason to look over his shoulder—any at all—Miu would be dead in an instant.  Heth had to distract him…now.

Heth stared McNeilly in the eye.  "Your S-soul Web!  Wanna f-fix it?  Kill me, you'll n-never find out how!"

McNeilly tilted his head.  Suddenly his jaw bones ripped away from his face into a huge pair of black mandibles, clicking and hissing.  "Hhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrooooooosssssssfffffffffffff  rrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaattttttttttttttthhhhhhhhhuuuuuuuuu—"

Miu slapped her paws over McNeilly's eyes, sunk her claws in deep, and ripped them away.  The alien let out a high-pitched, ear-splitting screech.  The spike pinning Heth to the wall shot out as McNeilly slapped his arms against his wounded eyes, blinded.  A second later he spun around, swinging his hatchet-hand out blindly behind him—but Miu was long gone, flying down to Heth and deflating.  She grabbed his arm and yanked.  Heth staggered to his paws as she dragged him toward the only other exit—the big picture window.

"Miu?" Heth asked weakly, disoriented and confused.  "What are you… you were supposed  to—"

"I'm salvaging a valuable resource!" Miu snapped.  "Jump!  NOW!"

Heth leapt into the air as they crashed through the window together, glass shattering around them as they plunged into the night sky.  Miu instantly inflated into a sphere to fly away—but Heth had a pierced air sac, he couldn't inflate, and his weight was dragging them both down.  Heth looked down at the ground far below, rushing up at them far too fast, and opened a comlink to the Avarice.  "Kirrp!  Transit portal!  A hundred meters below my position!  NOW!"

"Sky Father above!" Miu gasped.  "He's following us!"

Heth looked back up; sure enough, the obsessed Horadrim had leapt out the window after them.  He was trying to morph his limbs into winglets to glide, but wasn't having much success—he was only managing a controlled fall at best.  And he was falling faster than they were, gaining on them… he'd reach them in seconds.

"Miu!" Heth yelled.  "Deflate!  Now!  Just trust me on this!"  Thankfully she did, and the air whistled past them as they fell faster, picking up speed.  Suddenly a bright flash lit the night.  Heth looked down to see the transit portal rip open beneath them.  Heth looked back up.  McNielly was almost on top on them—with a shocked expression on his black alien face, scrambling madly to change his trajectory some way, any way, before—

Heth and Miu flashed through the portal and rolled across the hard metal floor of the Avarice's transit bay.  McNeilly crashed through a second later, landing in a crumpled heap close behind.  Miu scrambled to her paws to run.  "No!  Miu!  Get down!"  Heth tackled Miu and threw his armored body over hers.  He knew what was coming.

McNeilly staggered to his feet and squinted around through barely-healed compound eyes, trying to make out where he was—and saw over a dozen cats with power armor and plasma rifles surrounding him.  He froze.

"Ooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh  ffffffffffffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccccc—"

"Fire!" roared Narrah.  Plasma crisscrossed the room, converging on the Horadrim's waist.  He twitched and jerked as the inferno of fire ripped into his body; there was no way his Soul Web could heal that much damage that quickly, even if it had been working perfectly.  "Cease fire!"  Narrah yelled.  The plasma died down; McNeilly swayed for a split second, then collapsed.  Narrah bounded over, kicked a clawed boot into the Horadrim's face and sent him sprawling.  "Pin him!" he ordered.  K'Nes mercenaries pounced on the alien.  Rifles were raised into the air, then slammed down, the blades mounted under the barrels stabbing through the Horadrim's limbs and into the deck plates below.  Narrah nodded in grim satisfaction.  "Sire!" he said, turning to where Heth still lay on the floor, shielding Miu with his body.  "The prisoner is secured.  You may proceed."

Heth slowly struggled to his feet, holding a paw to the puncture wound in his side.  His armor's medical nanobots were already sealing the injury closed, but that just meant it itched and hurt.  Heth's helmet folded back into his armor's collar as he stalked toward where McNeilly lay, pinned spread-eagle to the floor.  "Narrah!"  Heth held out his paw.  "Give me your rifle."  The old hunter handed it over without question.

Heth stood over the Horadrim, fury burning in the cat's yellow eyes.  The alien stared back with hate-filled compound eyes, breathing raggedly.  "I warned you, McNeilly," Heth growled, running his paw along the curved blade mounted under the rifle barrel, part spear and part axe.  "I promised that if you tried to harm Miu… I would have your head."  Suddenly Heth swung the rifle up, light glinting off the blade.  "And a deal is a deal!"

The blade flashed down.  Heth swung again and again in a spray of ichor, hacking away until the creature's head finally rolled off its body.  Heth lowered the rifle, panting with exertion.  The room was utterly silent.

Finally Heth raised a paw.  "I accept full legal liability for these actions.  Do any of you need me to put that in writing?"  When no one spoke, Heth passed the rifle back to Narrah, then reached down into the alien's corpse and pulled a slime-covered datapad out of the jacket's breast pocket.  Amazingly, it was still intact—the short K'Nes hadn't bothered aiming that high.  "Well, now," Heth said, "let's see what you and Varrless were up to."  He tapped on the screen for a few seconds silently.  "Encrypted and password protected.  Of course it is.  Surra!"  He handed her the datapad as she stepped forward.  "Take this down to engineering and get them to work on cracking it.  Tell them it's very important, top priority.  Narrah!"  Heth reached down, yanked McNeilly's head off the floor, and held it out to the mercenary captain.  "Have this shipped to Emperor Vin Dane, first class.  Include a message.  Tell him… tell him the K'Nes will happily maintain friendly diplomatic and trade relations with the Holy Terran Empire—but we will NOT tolerate any more attempts to interfere in our internal affairs!"

Narrah rested the ichor-splattered rifle on his shoulder and took the severed head almost casually.  His mouth peeled away from his fangs in his own savage grin.  He snapped a salute to Heth with his tail.  "Yes, sire!"

"The rest of you," Heth said, turning to his hunters, "take McNeilly's body and burn it.  I have no idea if a Horadrim can grow a new head and come back to life—but I wouldn't put it past them!  Observe full hazmat procedures, I want nothing left but ashes!"  As his hunters carried away the dead alien, Heth finally turned to Miu.

She hadn't moved, still sitting on the floor where they'd landed, watching the scene before her play out.  Heth strode over and held out a paw.  "Miu, my dear… it's alright, you're safe now, I promise.  Are you hurt?"

Miu merely stared at him silently for a moment, her huge blue eyes glistening.  Then she took his paw and rose slowly.  She stretched experimentally, then smoothed her fur down, running her paws along the curves of her body.  "No," she finally said softly.  "No, I think I'm alright… just a little battered and bruised, that's all."

Heth sighed in relief.  "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that, Miu!" he said.

"No…" she said, placing a gentle paw alongside his face.  "No, I think I do…"  Suddenly she pulled Heth into an embrace and gripped him tightly.  She had been strong as bedrock during the fight for their lives… but now that the crisis had passed she was left shaken and trembling.  Heth wasn't sure what to do or say… so he just held her silently until she calmed down.  Gradually her breathing slowed and her shivers subsided.  She looked down at Heth, then licked the fur down alongside his face.  "Thank you," she whispered into his ear.  "You saved my life."

"And you saved mine," Heth replied with a smile.  "We always did make a good team."

"Yes, we do, don't we?"  Miu smiled back.  "Certainly much better than Pirr and I… that treacherous rat…"

"Varrless…" Heth hissed.  "I'm so sorry, Miu.  I tried to warn you, but you wouldn't take my calls, so I got here as fast as I could, but the Avarice was still over five systems away when I figured out what Varrless was—"

"Heth!"  Miu cut him off with a paw across his snout.  She smiled.  "You did just fine.  More than fine, actually.  You were… pretty magnificent…"  She stared silently into Heth's eyes… and began to breathe faster.

"Why… thank you…"  Heth frowned.  Miu had a rather intense look on her face, she was almost panting… and her scent had changed.  "Well," he said, "maybe we should get you up to the infirmary anyway, just in case..."

"No."  Miu shook her head, and Heth heard her claws scraping on his armored shoulders.  "No, there's something I need to do first…  You!"  Miu spun around and pointed a claw at Kirrp, who had been cowering behind the transit beacon console the whole time.  "Get out.  Now."  Kirrp scurried out of the transit beacon room, leaving them alone.  The hatch hadn't even rolled shut before Miu started clawing at Heth.  "I changed my mind—you do look good in power armor.  But you need to take it off.  Now."  She powered down his suit and began working on the seals.

"I'm fine, Miu!" Heth assured her.  "It's just a pierced air sac, a flesh wound!  The suit's medical nanos—"

"That's not what I meant."  Miu grabbed Heth's paw,  hooked the claws of his gauntlet into the top of her blouse, then yanked his arm down, ripping it wide open.  "Getting the picture yet?" she asked, licking her fangs.

"Oh… OH!"  Heth's eyes lit up with joy.  "But… wait… aren't you still under contract to Varrless?"

"I think trying to have me killed qualifies for Nullification under the Domestic Abuse Clause, don't you?"

"Wonderful!  Excellent!" Heth exclaimed, overjoyed.  He fumbled for his datapad, barely managing to pull it from an ammo compartment before his breastplate clattered to the floor.  "I've still got our Articles of Procreation saved on this," he said, trying to access the file with paws trembling with excitement.  "If you'll just sign on th—"

"Heth!" Miu hissed.  Heth paused, staring at her.  "It can wait.  And don't worry," Miu said, shaking her head.  "I'm not going to change my mind this time."  She ripped the datapad from his paws and hurled it across the room.  "Now shut up and mate me!"

He did.

It was worth the wait.

 

TO BE CONTINUED...