Purification

 

The wind moaned on the fourth moon of Plundarr.  Knave Iespyk didn't care though.  Wind never hurt anyone, he supposed.  His father, an Ice Lunatak, had raped a Cheetah and the result had been him.  He looked up at the sign, swinging gently above the bar.  ‘The Last Refuge' it read.  "Sounds as good a place as any," he mumbled, and pushed open the door.  What he saw when he entered caused his eyes to narrow with anger.  Sitting in a booth in the corner was the man who might have been his brother in law.  Psychro Myntaello.  He was sitting, chatting with his sister, Psikaris.  Not in the mood for a fight tonight, a rarity, he took a separate table but remained vigilant.

 

Some of the regular patrons looked up as he made his entrance, curious as they were whenever an unfamiliar face came in.  Instantly he was marked as an outsider.  Not only was he not a full blooded Psi like most of that moon's residents, but he was a half-breed that was half feline.  One drunken man snarled when his back was turned and muttered a derogatory name in Plundarrian, though it was quiet enough so that only those immediately around heard it.

 

One of them was another half-breed, though he didn't so much look the part as Knave.  Kraedon was of pure Lunar blood but with mixed roots, though with his purplish skin and hair it was hard to tell unless one looked closely.  Most of the patrons of this establishment were too drunk for that.  "Moron," he muttered, rolling his eyes at the man.

 

Another woman also took note of Knave's entrance.  Like him, she was half feline, and generally received the same sorts of stares that he did, though generally ones less outwardly hostile.  The half-Psi, half-Tigress who called herself Fantasy--as she refused to go by her birth name--had the advantage of being female and showing it off.  That alone usually gained her points, at least with the men.  Besides, it wasn't like she hadn't been to this bar before.  "Hmm, now he's interesting," she remarked to no one in particular.

 

Psychro stretched in his chair.  "I fail to see why you insist on wasting our paychecks here," Psikaris was saying.  "Alcohol hinders the creative mind and you know I hate ordering water."

 

"Relax, Karis.  Let yourself go.  Have a good time, I know I am," Psychro said.

 

"Psychro.  You've had your eye on her the whole night.  Why don't you just get it over with?" his sister chided him.  The burly Ice Lunatak/Psi-Race cross stretched and gave his twin sister a winning smile before making his way over to where Fantasy was sitting.

 

"Hey there, stranger.  You must be tired, you've been running through my head all night," Psychro said, slyly.

 

From several seats down on the bar, another Lunar-cat, a relatively quiet Psi/Cheetah that called herself Chedra who had consumed perhaps one too many glasses of wine, snickered.  That has to be one of the silliest lines I've ever heard someone use, she mused, and downed the rest of her glass.  "Another," she told the bartender, who promptly obliged her.

 

Fantasy smiled back at Psychro with an equally sly smile as she sized him up.  Cute, she thought, though clearly full of himself and up to no good.  She debated between telling him to pick up a more current copy of Dating for Lunies or asking him to join her, and decided on the latter.  He wasn't hard on the eyes, and he might be fun, and if he got arrogant, then playing with him might be even more fun.  She loved a challenge.  "Have I?" she replied sweetly.  "Then I must be thirsty from all that exercise," she said, setting her now empty glass down on the bar. 

 

"Well.  I think there's a solution to that problem.  Bartender, another drink for the lovely lady who brings a ray of sunshine into this otherwise bleak establishment," Psychro said.  The bartender, a rather tall Graviton came over.

 

"What is your pleasure, madame?" he asked.

 

"Dark Moon Iced Tea, lots of ice," she told the bartender.  She then shifted in her seat and gestured to the empty one next to her for Psychro to take it if he so desired.  "Thanks. I've been called many things, but never a 'ray of sunshine'.  So what shall I call you?"

 

"The name's Psychro Myntaello.  My sister and I run a ship repair business nearby.  I should also point out that I'm single," Psychro replied, after ordering a beer for himself and sitting on the stool.

 

"A pleasure to meet you, Psychro," she purred, leaning the slightest bit closer to him as she sipped her drink. "So is this a favorite hangout of yours?  I'm relatively new to the area myself.”

 

“I'm something of a regular around here, I could show you a few sights if you'd like," Psychro said mischievously.  "Namely my bedroom," he added mentally.

 

Knave hissed from his seat.  He couldn't resist.  That womanizing bastard was going after more prey.  He couldn't hear what was being said, and didn't really care.  He chugged his beer down and contemplated how he could ruin this pleasant interlude.

 

Chedra heard the hiss from the other half-cheetah and glanced in his direction curiously.  She was merely passing through this town, and certainly didn't know Knave, but she got an uneasy feeling about him.  Across the room Kraedon also raised an eyebrow at the sound of the half-breed's discontent.  But he wasn't the type to get involved in things that didn't concern him, so he dismissed it shortly thereafter.

 

Fantasy however didn't notice Knave, as her attention was on Psychro.  She knew what his game was.  It took one to know one.  She wondered if he had picked up on that much yet.  Either way, it was amusing.  She sipped at her drink then set it down, seductively licking the trace of alcohol that clung to her lips as she did so.  "That could be fun.  You look like the type who knows how to have a good time," she replied flirtatiously.

 

From the table Psikaris saw Psychro give her ‘the glance' that told her that his hunt was nearly over, his prey had taken the bait and soon, as Psychro eloquently put it "she'll find herself acting much like my animal skin blanket.  Spread out on the bed."  Sighing, she gave him the nod to leave without her.

 

"Shall we then?" Psychro asked Psikaris.  "My car is sitting right outside.  I know this great place which has a great ceiling that you simply must see."

 

This time Fantasy had to struggle to keep from giggling.  Good looks but no originality.  Too bad, generally she preferred brains with looks.  She hoped he was at least good in bed, so playing with him wouldn't be too dull, though at least she could file away some of his pick up lines as comic relief.  She flashed a dazzling smile on her face.  "Ceiling, hmm?  Now that's an unusual place for artwork."

 

While the little conversation was going on Knave stood up and dashed out the door.  He had an idea.  It would slow the lovebirds down a little.  Maybe he could even go back and knock off Psikaris.  He flash froze Psychro's car.  As soon as he touched it, the vehicle would shatter.

 

"Well, I admit that the ceiling was an unusual place to put it, but it serves to remind people of who they're with," Psychro said.  The ceiling to which he referred was actually adorned with a large mirror, designed so that the numerous women he slept with could see him there too.  "Shall we then?  My car is parked just out front," he said, offering his arm, and tossing the bartender a tip.

 

"How intriguing," Fantasy replied as she slid off her stool and took his arm.  Purring lightly, the half-tigress leaned against Psychro and the pair walked toward the exit.

 

The bartender watched them leave and shook his head as he collected their vacated glasses and his tip.  "Not sure which one of those two I should feel sorry for," he said with a chuckle.

 

The drunken man who'd made the comment about Knave earlier snorted with disgust.  "Let's just hope they don't breed.  We have enough low-class mixed blood freaks as it is."

 

Chedra was stung by the man's remark, it brought up painful memories of her own troubled youth of being ostracised for her heritage.  "Who asked your opinion?" she snapped angrily.

 

He took another swig of liquor and glared at her.  "Shut up, you spotted bitch."

 

Kraedon felt his temper starting to flare up. "Bartender, I think he's had a bit too much," he said quietly, glaring at the loudmouth.

 

The man in question was Raven.  He had black hair, wore black, dyed his eyes black, and had a heart as black as coal.  He was also a Lunatak from the Dark Moon of Plundarr.  With a seemingly dismissive gesture at Kraedon he created a small, barely visible, pocket of blackness before his eyes.  It would make the man think he'd gone blind.  It would serve him right.  No one cut off his alcohol supply, least of all a half-breed.

 

* * *

 

Psychro walked over to his car, not noticing Knave hidden in the shadows nearby.  "Prepare for one of the most exciting trips of your life," Psychro said, reaching for the door.  His smug look faded and was quickly replaced with a look of fury as his car crumbled to a pile of useless dust.  "What the hells?" he asked kicking the dust futilely.

 

Fantasy blinked at the disintegrated car, then looked at Psychro.  "Does it always do that?"

 

"No.  Some idiot tampered with it.  The question is who?" Psychro snarled.  From the alley nearby Knave snickered.

 

One of Fantasy's ears quirked to the side in a decidedly feline manner at the sound of the snicker.  "Did you hear something, Psychro?"

 

"No," Psychro sighed.  "We'll have to hail a cab.  We'll stop by my place and I'll grab the spare set of keys.  I promised you a good time, and by golly you'll get it."

 

At least he's resourceful, Fantasy thought, that's a plus.  "I can't wait," she said, her voice taking on a husky and flirtatious tone again.  She slid her arm around his waist and smiled at him, waiting for him to hail the cab. 

 

The cab stopped in front of the two lovebirds.  "Not exactly a limo, but it'll do for now," Psychro said.  "Besides.  It's not how you get there that matters, but what you do when you do."  With that Psychro climbed into the cab.

 

Knave cursed to himself.  "Oh well.  Nothing for it.  Guess I'll just have to spoil Psikaris' evening," he thought.

 

"So true," she agreed, and joined him in the backseat of the cab.

 

After Psychro had given the address to the cabbie he pulled the curtain between front and back closed.  "You know.  It occurs to me that we could begin some of the festivities now," Psychro said, running his hand lightly across Fantasy's leg.

 

His gentle, yet insistent touch only fueled her desire to toy with him more.  She leaned closer and slid her hand over his muscular blue chest.  "You don't waste any time," she purred seductively, calling his bluff, bringing her face mere inches from his.

 

"Well then, shall we?" Psychro asked, capturing her face in his hands, preparing for one lengthy kiss

 

"Let's," Fantasy replied, and pressed her lips to his.

 

* * *

 

Kraedon was about to take another drink when suddenly everything went black.  He blinked and shook his head, trying to figure out if the power went out, or if someone put something in his drink.  It caught him by surprise, and he dropped the glass.

 

He already had Chedra's attention from when he stood up for her.  She got up and walked over to him.  "Are you all right?" she asked.

 

Kraedon didn't answer, and lowered his head.  No, it wasn't the drink, something wasn't right... it was magic, or a thrall, or something.  He had been back on the Moons long enough to know that this was some sort of Lunatac power.  Well, he had his own solution to that.  He closed his eyes and concentrated, drawing on his own telekinetic powers, sensed a strange force around him, and concentrated the gravity around it to lift it away.  After several moments he blinked and everything appeared normal.  He turned to Chedra and eyed her warily.  Had she done it?  No, she had asked if he needed help, he was certain it wasn't her.  "I'm fine, thank you... what did you say your name was?"

 

"Chedra," she answered with a warm smile.  "And you are?"

 

"Kraedon."

 

Knave walked across the bar room floor, making for Psikaris' seat, when he felt a foot slip under his own, propelling him forward into Kraedon's stool.  The young Iespyk turned and looked around.  The only man who could've done it was a man in black, but his back was turned to him.  "My apologies," Knave said to Kraedon, then moved to Raven's chair.  "Excuse me, did you see someone trip me?" he asked, controlling his mounting anger.

 

"No, but that was a spectacular fall... for a half-breed," Raven replied, turning his pitch black eyes onto Knave's.  "That's one thing you freaks of nature are actually good for.  Making complete asses of yourselves."

 

Kraedon barely had time to react, but Raven's comment was the final straw to igniting his temper.  He got to feet and glared at the dark-dweller.  "You're pushing your luck," he growled, clenching his gauntleted fist.  Already he was focusing his powers in preparation for attack.  All he needed was an excuse to do it.

 

"Oh?  Are you looking to make an ass of yourself too?" Raven asked, pushing back the side of his cloak to reveal a small laser pistol nestled in his hand.

 

"And take that honor from you? Wouldn't dream of it."  With that he looked at Raven's wrist, clenched his fingers, and mentally crushed it, intent on causing enough pain that the weapon would fall useless from his hand.

 

Raven hurled the weapon to the ground and narrowed his eyes.  Most Dark Lunataks only had one power or occasionally two.  Raven was unique.  He possessed a number of powers, most of which he was willing to use against an inferior breed.  He allowed a tiny ball of fire to spring to the tip of his finger on the unhurt hand and flicked it in the direction of Kraedon.

 

Knave growled, and reached for his icepick.  "That's enough out of you.  I'll not have you ruining my evening by using simple party tricks!" 

 

Though Kraedon was a seasoned fighter, he didn't expect that the dark moon man would have such a power, and it caught him off guard. He saw the flame coming a moment too late and swatted at it instinctively with his gauntleted hand.  It saved him from being seriously burned, but it also knocked him off balance.  He took several steps back and crashed into the side of Psikaris' table.  "Kkrekk," he growled, using one of the colorful Plundarrian words he learned in his youth.

 

Chedra looked at the escalating brawl with unease.  She never cared for violence, but she cared for injustice even less.  Though she didn't really want to get involved, she felt she had to do something-- not only because the purple-haired Psi-mix he attacked had stood up for her earlier, but because in her eyes, the black-clothed man deserved it, and it was the right thing to do.  She stood and chanted an ancient verse. It was a simple spell, but effective.  Immediately the wooden legs of Raven's chair turned into a pile of feathers.

 

Raven cursed as the chair disappeared beneath him and dropped to the floor.  "Bloody freaks of nature, die!" he shouted, picking up his table with effort and hurling it in their direction as best he could.

 

Psikaris flinched as her table was bumped.  This was not her environment.  She belonged in front of a set of blueprints, or poring over a book.  This was more Psychro's environment.  She had to get out of here quickly.  Even as she moved to do so a beer bottle came crashing down on her head from an overzealous patron, and an obvious sympathizer of Raven's.  "Look the half breeds are ganging up on one of our own!" the man said, his voice slurred from the large quantities of liquor he'd consumed.

 

Though he didn't know Psikaris, Kraedon growled and punched the drunken brawler who hit her, sending him sailing into the left side of the bar.  "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not right to hit a lady, slime-crawler?"  He turned to Psikaris and offered her a hand up.  "Are you all right?"

 

Meanwhile Chedra had ducked down behind the other side of the bar, mostly to avoid being clocked by a random piece of the furniture and barware now being tossed around the room in a wild free-for-all. 

 

The bartender decided he'd had enough; his insurance only covered so much damage and he didn't want his place destroyed, which was well on the way to happening, and called the authorities to deal with it. 

 

Psikaris glanced up at Kraedon as blood trickled down her face.  She wiped it away with the back of her hand and accepted his aid in standing.  "My thanks.  He caught me off guard, that's all," she said, shakily.

 

Raven surveyed the damage being wrecked.  He had fulfilled his purpose.  Soon the Lunar race would be cleansed.  He backhanded Knave, who was preparing to strike, and filled the room with darkness, allowing him to escape.

 

"You're welcome," Kraedon replied, smiling at her for a moment before his anger resurfaced.  "It looks like this damtadd isn't going to let things go," he said, referring to Raven.  "You might want to get out of here while you can."  With that he took off and ran back into the thick of the fight.  He was just about to deliver a blow to the back of the dark-dweller's head when suddenly the room went black again, and he found himself smashing his fist into an empty table instead.  "Damn it!  Where in the hells did he go?"

 

"And who was he?" Chedra asked, walking over toward Kraedon and Knave.  "Are you two okay?" she questioned, looking at them both with concern. 

 

Kraedon nodded back a yes.

 

Knave rubbed his jaw.  "I think so," he muttered.  "Bruised pride if anything."  He glanced up at the door.

 

Uneasily Psikaris walked over to the stranger who had helped her.  "You might want to consider leaving too.  Look!" she said, pointing outside the door where four police cruisers were pulling up.  Eight psyche clubs were drawn and the bar was bathed in blue light.

 

"You will cease fighting and come out with your hands up.  You cannot resist us.  You will co-operate!" the eight officers intoned.

 

Kraedon blinked in the light and stared blankly at the officers when they entered.  Though he was half-Psi by blood, he had no training in anything other than his own more telekinetic abilities, and therefore had no means to block the hypnotists.  "Co-operate..." he murmured, unable to tear his eyes from the pulsing aquamarine beams of light.

 

Chedra on the other hand could block hypnosis.  Her own father had been a powerful hypnotist, and he had taught her some of his power.  She forced herself to look away and keep control of herself.  She glanced nervously from Knave, to Kraedon, and then to the blue female who joined them, wondering if they could fight it.

 

He normally scorned his Cheetah heritage, but Knave was thankful for it as the blue light smothered him.  It meant that he was able to fight the hypnosis for a whole ten seconds or so before he raised his arms in surrender.

 

Psikaris had more mental training than her brother.  Although she would never claim herself to be the finest in the business she could occasionally throw off the shackles of one hypnotist.  Eight, however, was too much.  Slowly, against her will, her own arms raised into the air and she moved for the door.

 

Chedra fought a rising feeling of dread.  This did not look good.  The others had given in, and she was losing hope herself...

 

Which one of the eight officers picked up on.  He focused intently on her and advanced, the blazing beam of azure light from his club nearly blinding her as he approached.  "It is no use to resist the law, woman.  Raise your arms and surrender now."

 

Chedra lifted her arms and stepped into the light.

 

“Excellent work men.  Let's lock em up and start the interrogations," an officer said, as the patrons were herded into several paddy wagons.

 

* * *

 

Elsewhere, far off, a small cab pulled up in front of a house.  Psychro broke the passionate kiss and ran his fingers through Fantasy's hair.  "Sorry love, but the rest of this will have to wait til we're indoors," he murmured.

 

Fantasy drew back from him and smiled flirtatiously.  "If you insist, handsome," she purred, seductively drawing one tiger-striped finger down the length of his muscular blue arm. 

 

"Oh, I do insist, that we continue our little game," Psychro said, handing the cabbie his tip.  "Shall we then?"

 

She nodded.  She took his hand and followed his lead out of the taxi and toward the house that she assumed was his.  She leaned closer as they walked.  She had decided she was glad she didn't dismiss him as an egotistical jackass with bad pick-up lines after all.  If nothing else, he was an egotistical jackass with bad pick-up lines that was a good kisser, and if his implied boasts were to be believed, good at other things too.

 

Psychro fished his keys out of his pocket and slid one into the lock.  "Well, no one's home.  Nor will they be home until sometime later tomorrow, so we have the entire place to ourselves.  Would you care for a drink, or would you rather taste what I have to offer?" he said, his eyes flashing with innuendo.

 

The half tigress started to purr and moved closer to him, meeting his dangerous gaze with one of her own.  "That depends on what you have to offer.  Why don't you show me?"

 

Psychro smiled.  Tonight's conquest would be easier than most.  If she was any good she might be worth a second date.  More than that would crimp his style.  Love them and then leave them.  That's how he preferred it.  "Screw the bedroom," he said, pulling off his vest, "it's too far away.  The couch will do."

 

She raised an eyebrow for a second at the mention of the couch, as that was not her ideal place for such a tryst.  Usually silk sheets and champagne were the preferred setting, but as she watched him take off his vest, she decided that perhaps just this once she would indulge her lust anyway.  Of course, that meant that he'd have to be all that much better in bed before she'd even consider spending another evening with him, but that could be decided later.  She threw off her jacket, leaving her clad in the skintight sleeveless bodysuit that she wore, and snaked her arms around his waist. 

 

"I hope it's a comfortable couch," she whispered, and kissed him hungrily. 

 

"The couch is made all the more comfortable by what's on it," he sighed, breathing against her neck.  He gently pressed a button on the side of the couch, causing it to become a hide-a-bed.  "And right now there's only one thing I'd like on it.  You," he replied, his hands caressing her shoulders and back. 

 

* * *

 

Back at the local law base, things were not so cozy.  The half-breed prisoners had been hauled roughly and locked away in the basement holding cells, Psikaris and Chedra in one and Knave and Kraedon in one across the hall from it.  Both cells were dark and dingy, with cracked ceilings, an overwhelming odor of mildew and other less pleasant odors, and evidence of a rather significant rodent infestation problem. 

 

They had been in there for over an hour with no word as to why or when they might expect to be released when a middle-aged officer came in, holding a stun gun.  "All right, it's interrogation time for you freaks," he snarled as he entered.  "So which of you's going to plead guilty first and make it easy on you?"

 

"Guilty?  You expect me to plead guilty?  I'll have you know that my father is very important and he will be most annoyed when he hears that you've got me held here," Knave snarled, not mentioning that his father would be more annoyed that he had been captured.  But that was a moot point.

 

Psikaris winced as she heard Knave.  She had recognized him, once they were in the confines of the cells.  She knew of his famed temper, and his father.  She just wished he hadn't been so brazen about it all.

 

Kraedon also was unimpressed by the guard's attempt to intimidate them.  He had contacts himself.  His employer, an outcast Thunderian aristocrat that now lived on Plundarr, certainly had the means to have him freed, if only he could get in contact with her.  "I will plead guilty to nothing," he said stubbornly, and turned away.

 

Chedra was less blunt.  "What did we do?" she asked, her voice showing her outrage and distress.  "We didn't do anything.  It was that man in black."

 

The guard snickered.  "Man in black?  He your babysitter or something," the guard sneered.

 

"Babysitter!  Why I oughta!" Knave began.

 

"Knave!  Don't!" Psikaris shouted.

 

"No.  Come on, take your best shot," the guard said.  Knave stumbled forward, his arms bound, and attempted to ram the arrogant guard.  He fell to the floor as the man's rifle collided with his skull.  "Anyone else want to question my authority?  You perhaps?" he asked, gesturing at Kraedon.

 

Kraedon glared at him and started to focus his powers right on his neck.  The guard started to choke and grip at his neck, but then a second guard came in, presumably the first guard's backup.  Immediately he saw his colleague was in trouble, and shot Kraedon point blank with a stun pistol.  He shouted in pain, caught by surprise, and fell to the floor unconscious.  "I see we've got a telekinetic on our hands.  I think someone needs some energy blocking cuffs," the second guard said.

 

The first guard meanwhile got back to his feet and shook off the last effects of Kraedon's attack, and turned toward Chedra and Psikaris.  "I hope you two bitches are smarter than your boyfriends.  I suggest you confess before we send Myrik in here to interrogate you.  He's one of the Moons' best hypnotists, and I'm sure he'd enjoy forcing you to cooperate.  Into telling the truth and a few other things too, I'm sure.  His tastes run to the more perverse, so two half-bred tramps like you will be right to his liking."          

 

Psikaris paled at the thoughts of what could happen to her.  She was used to listening to Psychro detail his conquests and so was well versed in what a man could do to a woman, especially where hypnosis played a key.  "We're innocent.  I swear it on all I hold dear," she said quietly.

 

"What's that?  I didn't hear you," the guard said, roughly grabbing her face.

 

"I said we're innocent sir.  I swear it," Psikaris repeated, louder this time.

 

Chedra stood behind Psikaris and nodded in agreement.  "Whatever trouble happened we didn't start."

 

He glanced toward the half cheetah and sneered.  "Oh right, it was your 'man in black'," he sneered.  "Funny, no witnesses recall seeing any such patron.  Testimonies we gathered say that the spotted male started by picking a fight with a respected citizen.  Shortly after, his friend over there joined in and started trashing the place, and then you two got involved in the destruction of private property and malicious mischief.  We have all the evidence we need, so don't bother to try and feed us any lies about men in black.  You might as well say a Hetosha beast did it."  He then released Psikaris' face and slapped it.  "Now confess!" he demanded.

 

"I can't confess to doing something I didn't do.  It goes against everything I believe in," Psikaris said.

 

From his spot on the floor Knave could see black spots dancing before his eyes.  But they were fading quickly.  The guard who had hit him was still in view.  The other would require a great deal of effort to see.  Without thinking through his plan, Knave sent a sheet of ice around the guard's feet, locking them to the ground.  Then he rolled to his knees and attempted to stand

 

The guard heard something and tried to turn, only to find that he couldn't.  It was then that he felt the pain and numbness in his feet and he realized what had happened.  "Teithan!" he shouted, calling the other guard.  "That half-breed's an ice spitter!"

 

"I'll fix that," Teithan replied.  He had gone into the males' cell, since both had been seemingly knocked out, and was in the process of putting energy cuffs on the unconscious Kraedon.  But when he heard his partner's warning, he stopped what he was doing and drew his stun gun again, especially now that he saw Knave up.  Without hesitation he fired in the half-breed's direction.

 

Knave's Cheetah speed would have helped him avoid any energy blasts, but that was on his feet.  He was on his knees when Teithan fired and fell back awkwardly, his legs flopping limply beside him.

 

"This is your last chance, my pretties.  Start singing or one of you will be left for Myrik to play with," the first guard, Drevis, said.

 

"No, please don't.  I don't know anything, really!" Psikaris begged, falling to her knees for effect.

 

"We don't," Chedra insisted, the same element of panic showing in her voice that Psikaris' gesture was showing.  "Please..."

 

Drevis was losing patience.  "Then confess your guilty hand in destroying The Last Refuge!  And be quick about it!"  He stared coldly at them both.  "For I can assure you that Myrik won't."

 

A cruel, twisted chuckle sounded from the doorway that led into the holding cell area.  "Getting them ready for me are you Drevis?"  From the shadows of the corridor Psikaris and Chedra saw a tall Psi man with shoulder-length blue-grey hair approach the cell.  He wore the uniform of someone of importance and the calm authority of his voice implied that fact was rarely challenged.  He curled his fingers around the bars of their cell and leered at the two women held within.  "What a lovely pair you two are.  I think I'll enjoy probing... your minds, that is."

 

Chedra's skin crawled when she saw the way he looked at her.  "Keep him away from me," she whispered.  "Please."

 

Psikaris had never wandered around buck naked, but now knew how it must feel to do so.  Being stared at by Myrik made her feel more helpless than ever before in her life.  "Don't we get a free phone call or something?" Psikaris asked, inching away from the Psi.

 

"You wish.  You're on the Fourth Moon, remember?" Drevis chuckled.  "Take those two away."  Teithan rushed to obey, dragging Knave and Kraedon out of the room.  Drevis fired his rifle at his feet, shattering the ice, and followed after, leaving the two women alone with Myrik.

 

Myrik entered the cell and approached the two of them.  Psikaris was closer, so he approached her first, eyeing her like a predatory snake.  "Blue skin," he noted.  "So your other half is the Ice clan.  At least all your blood is Lunar."  He then stared at Chedra.  "And you, with spots.  Feline features... part cheetah."  He smiled.  "A forbidden pairing.  How exciting."  He beckoned for Chedra and Psikaris to come to him. 

 

Going anywhere near him was the last thing Chedra wanted to do, but she stepped toward him anyway.  At least she was still retaining her free will.  "What do you want with us?" she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

 

Psikaris hated this man.  She disliked the way he talked, the way he looked at her.  It was sickening.  And yet she knew that he held every card.  Delaying wouldn't do very much.  If he wanted to assault her there was nothing she could do to stop him, yet.

 

"Much better," Myrik said, "first I want your full names.  Nothing too hard, yet."

 

"Mine is Psikaris Myntaello," Psikaris replied.

 

"And you?" Myrik prompted Chedra.

 

"Chedra."

 

Myrik raised an eyebrow.  "Just Chedra?  No clan name?"

 

She caught the look in his eye, it seemed like he was hoping she would give him an excuse to rend her mind.  "I wasn't born on this Moon," she explained.  "I was born on Thundera.  There an entire clan, sometimes an entire village, share a common name.  I've only gone by one name my entire life."

 

"I see." Myrik's voice was calm and reasonable, but there was an undercurrent that clearly said he would tolerate only so many iffy answers.  "Well then, let's move on to the next question at hand.  Why were you in The Last Refuge?"

 

Chedra became slightly indignant.  "Do I need to justify why I might want to go out and have a drink and relax?"

 

"Why are you so defensive?" Myrik questioned.  "Was it perhaps that you had other motivations that you're trying to hide?  Secret business?  Or perhaps secret pleasure?  Witnesses mentioned that the telekinetic defended you at some point.  Is he your lover?"

 

"I don't even know him!" she cried.

 

Myrik frowned at her heated denial, and turned to Psikaris.  "And what about you?  You know the one called Knave, that much is obvious.  And he started the fight from our accounts.  Is he your lover?"

 

Psikaris' eyes widened.  "Certainly not.  My relationship to Knave is complicated.  My brother was to marry his sister, but it got scuttled when she broke it off," she said.

 

"Brother?  You have a brother?  Interesting.  And why were you at The Last Refuge?" Myrik asked, jotting down notes.

 

"My brother, Psychro, insisted that we come.  He likes ending his day with a few drinks," Psikaris said.

 

"Your brother was with you?  Then where is he now?" Myrik asked.

 

"Probably at home.  He left with a woman," Psikaris replied.

 

"Very well, where do you live?" Myrik demanded.

 

"326 Lepath Lane," Psikaris said, after a moment of thought.  Myrik walked to a control panel and entered instructions to some cops to go pick up Psychro and his guest.

 

"Now then.  How about you.  Give me your address," Myrik said, pointing at Chedra.

 

"23B Noctin Drive," she replied flatly.

 

"By yourself?" Myrik pressed.

 

Chedra nodded.

 

The interrogator wrote down her address.  "Now then, down to business.  What are your powers by birth, and by practice?"

 

The half-cheetah balked.  "What do you mean?"

 

"I mean," Myrik said, "that you are to tell me your powers in detail right now.  You are suspected of breaking several laws and we must have a file of all your abilities on record so they can be accordingly dealt with and blocked.  Now, you can tell me, or I will take you to a private examination room and I will force them from you," he said, a growl of threat creeping into his voice.  "It is your choice.  Now, I'll ask you again, what are your powers?  You're half Psi by blood.  Are you a hypnotist?  Telekinetic?  Psychic healer?  Mage?  None of the above?"

 

Chedra sighed.  "My father was a hypnotist.  He helped me develop some of those powers."

 

Myrik leered at her again and stepped closer. "Any others?"

 

"I can run like a cheetah..." her voice trailed off.

 

"And the magic?" he prompted.  "You were seen casting a spell."

 

"Yes," she sighed.  She hoped that wouldn't come up as it was something she was trained in and not a natural power to her bloodline, but luck wasn't on her side, apparently.

 

Myrik reached out grasped her wrist.  She visibly shuddered at his touch.  He chuckled and laid his other hand on her forearm in an unwelcome, somewhat lewd, touch.  "Size five for energy blocking cuffs," he noted, then after letting his fingers linger on her furred skin a moment longer, he let her go as abruptly as he touched her and turned to Psikaris.  "And what would your powers be, Psikaris?"

 

"Limited shape shifting.  Myself and others I'm in contact with.  I can breathe ice," Psikaris said.

 

"Shape shifting eh?  Do it then," Myrik said.

 

"What?" Psikaris asked.

 

"Shape shift yourself.  Nothing fancy.  Let's just make your breasts larger," Myrik snickered.

 

"What?  But..." Psikaris began to protest.

 

"I could force you, you know, and that would be very unpleasant for you," Myrik replied.

 

Psikaris lowered her head in submission and did as he commanded.  As soon as she had he backhanded her.  "No using your powers!" he barked.

 

"But you said..." Psikaris said, her eyes flashing.

 

"I also said no powers!" Myrik grabbed her wrists, less tenderly, and said, "Size four."

 

"How do you expect us to obey you when you give contradictory orders?" Psikaris asked.

 

"Ah, a feisty one, eh?  I'm going to enjoy you," Myrik sneered.  "Now the fun part.  Who are you working for?"

 

"What do you mean?" Psikaris asked.

 

"I know you half breed freaks are planning a rebellion soon.  I want the names of your leaders," Myrik replied.

 

"I'm not working for anyone!" Chedra exclaimed.  "I haven't even been on this Moon for more than a couple months!  For crying out loud, I don't even know the politics well enough to know what I'd be rebelling against.  I had enough of that on Thundera anyway, that's why I came here to begin with."

 

Now it was Chedra's turn to be struck, and the back of Myrik's hand knocked her to the floor.  He stood above her menacingly. "Don't take that tone with me again, wench, or I'll take you to one of our discipline chambers and play a game of connect-the-spots with a whip."  He eyed her body lecherously again.  "Do you have spots all over, half-kitty?"

 

Chedra just stared back at him.  She glanced at Psikaris, though there wasn't much she could do to help her anyway, even if she were inclined.  They were at his mercy.

 

"I asked you a question, half-breed," Myrik pushed.  "But since you refuse to answer, it looks like I'll have to find out for myself."  He drew on his hypnotic powers and focused on her, his eyes boring into her very soul.  "Strip."

 

Though she tried and desperately wanted to, she simply did not have the training to resist a mentalist of his expertise.  She got back on her feet and peeled off her dress.

 

Myrik enjoyed his cheap thrill, then decided he'd like to have another.  "It occurs to me that you two weren't searched for concealed weapons.  A shame, it seems I'll have to do it myself."  He eyed Psikaris with the same predatory smile, and thralled her as he had Chedra.  "Take off every stitch of clothing on your body.  Now."

 

Psikaris paled even more than before.  But no one had ever seen her naked before.  No one.  But it seemed that there was going to be a first.  She shucked her vest and stripped out of her jump suit.  She then stood quivering on the cold floor before his gaze.  "Very interesting.  I think it's about time we got to know each other a little better.  It will also serve to show you who your master is," Myrik said, reaching for the top button of his robe.

 

He gestured to a cot with a dingy mattress in the corner of the cell as he leered at the two naked prisoners in front of him.  "Both of you, get on that bed and lie down."  He smiled as he gave the order and dispensed with the restrictions of his own clothing.  It wasn't every day he was given two to "interrogate" at once. 

 

Chedra heard his order and numbly climbed onto the bed.  On some level she was aware of what was happening, but she was powerless to do anything about it.  As she laid down on the cold, dirty sheets, and watched the intimidating form of Myrik approach, she closed her eyes and simply wished for it all to just go away.

 

Psikaris too obeyed.  She fought back the urge to gag as his grubby hands began touching her in places no man should be allowed to touch, least of all an officer of the law.  And then, it wasn't just his hands.

 

* * *

 

Back at 326 Lepath Lane, Psychro and Fantasy's love nest was about to be disturbed.  The pair of lovers were still entangled on the couch-bed, clad in nothing but the sheets and both breathless as they basked in the afterglow of their lusty tryst.  Fantasy had been pleased to find out that despite his horrid pick-up lines, Psychro had proven to be good for at least one thing, and as she judged from the smile on his face, he wasn't exactly disappointed either.  Unfortunately that smile was wiped off his face when a loud and insistent banging sounded at the front door.  "Police!  Open up!  NOW!"

 

"Kkrekk!" Psychro said, reaching for his clothes.  "There's a ship in the basement we can use to take us away from here.  It's very convenient being a mechanic.  You never run out of ships.  Any idea where we should go?"

 

Fantasy sat bolt upright when she heard the banging.  "Psychro, are you on the run from the law?" she asked, her expression serious but her eyes betraying a spark that indicated she found such an idea to be an added thrill.

 

The banging continued.  "You've got to the count of ten or we're breaking the door down, you half-breed rebels!" an officer shouted, and then began a countdown.

 

Fantasy hurriedly wriggled into her bodysuit and grabbed her boots and jacket.  They could wait until they got to his ship.  "It doesn't matter to me where we go, as long as it's not here," she told him.  "Prison blues are just not my style."

 

"I don't they're designed to be fashionable.  Just to make you stick out like a sore thumb," Psychro said.  He dashed down the stairs and opened the hatch to a small ship.  Behind him he could vaguely hear the guard shout ten, and the banging on the door.  "Come on.  We don't have much time," said Psychro.

 

Fantasy didn't waste time in answering, and quickly climbed into the ship.  Once inside she pulled on her boots and jacket, and sat in one of the seats, waiting for Psychro to take off.  "They called us 'half-breed' rebels up there," she said with a frown.  "Do you know what they're talking about?"

 

"Not at all," Psychro replied, flipping a few switches.  The ground rumbled slightly as the massive hangar doors swung open.  Two police officers stood just outside.  "This is gonna be tricky," Psychro added, kicking the small ship forward.

 

"Halt!  In the name of the law!" one of the two bellowed.

 

"Fantasy, darling.  There seem to be some weapon systems over there.  Why don't you show them how we feel about being interrupted," Psychro grinned.

 

"With pleasure," she replied, and approached the panel.  Quickly she powered up the laser guns, and as she did so, she focused carefully at the law enforcers' feet.  She didn't want to strike one directly.  As of yet the worst law she might have broken was resisting arrest.  Murder was one charge she'd prefer to keep off the list.  Lunatac laws were very strict about such things.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, the system powered up, and she fired her shot.  The ground exploded at the policemen's feet, knocking them to the ground.

 

"We'll orbit the moon and land in at the scrap yard.  The folks there are sympathetic to those on the run from the law.  We wouldn't be the first to be helped by them.  I'll admit that it's still a risky venture, but we've got little other choice if we're to find out what's happening."

 

"That sounds like a plan to me.  Let's get there as fast as we can... and hope that these guys don't have space-flight-capable ships on hand." 

 

* * *

 

Knave blinked his eyes as he slowly came around.  He was aching all over and blood was matted in his hair.  Most of all, though, he realized he was bound.  He moaned and managed to look around.  A small cage suspended over a pit.  Down below were ravenous hairy beasts.  Across from him, in a similar cage, was Kraedon.

 

"You're awake," Kraedon called over.  "Not so lucky for you.  I wouldn't have minded being out for this," he said with a sigh.  He was still weak from the repeated beatings he'd been subjected to.  He clenched his fists and wished for the millionth time that they hadn't gotten his energy blocking cuffs on so securely. 

 

"So, when does the real fun begin?" Knave asked, quickly checking for his icepick.  It was, of course, gone.

 

"You're being held here until Myrik is finished with your female friends," a female guard said, a Graviton, "I imagine you'll be wishing that the ‘fun' hadn't started once he gets here."

 

Kraedon snorted in disgust.  "Sorry, I don't think I'm Myrik's type."

 

Another guard from the sidelines laughed.  "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that.  Myrik's been known to take some extra time interrogating and disciplining rebellious punks like you.  And I hear purple hair turns him on."  The two guards then burst out in rude laughter, and they laughed even harder when Kraedon visibly shuddered at their words.

 

Disgusted, he turned away.  They're trying to get to you, he told himself.  Don't give them the satisfaction.  Besides, you should be more worried about those slobbering things down there that are looking at you like dinner.

 

He glanced at Knave, then turned back to the guards.  "All right, enough games.  What's the deal?  It's obvious we were sentenced to death without a trial, but why?  Has a barfight become a capital crime nowadays?"

 

"I'll answer that," a voice said calmly, "guards.  Be gone."  The guards blanched and fled the room.  A pasty skinned man stepped forward, his short white cloak billowed about him.  "You are being held here for one reason, and one reason only.  An act that your parents committed that stained the Lunar people forever.  They bred outside their own race." The pasty fellow stepped forward and drifted into the air so that he was between them.  "Once we have all we need out of you, you will be terminated."

 

Kraedon blinked in disbelief as he took in the stranger's words.  He knew some Lunatacs were purist types that believed that cross-breeding diluted their powers, but never had he ran across someone so extreme.  He lunged at the bars of his cage and grabbed them in rage.  He would have snapped them had he not been cuffed.  "You racist bastard," he growled.  "How dare you condemn my parents!" 

 

"And how dare you contaminate the air I breathe with your impure breath," snapped the pasty Psi.

 

"Calm down, Drell.  You'll only exhaust them, and we do want a good show," said Raven revealing himself.

 

"You!" Knave spat lunging forward, serving only to cause his cage to swing back and forth.

 

"Eh, jastach ook," Kraedon snarled at the two.  Cursing at them in Plundarrian made it that much more insulting to him.  The best ones lost their full meaning in the translation.  He glared at Raven.  "And if you think you're taking anything from us, you've got another thing coming, jatiirk!  Take these cuffs off if you have the balls to do it, or are you too cowardly?" he raged.

 

"Cowardly?  Me?  No.  Myrik's ministrations work most effectively the subject is still alive," Raven snickered.

 

"Speaking of which.  How soon until he's done with those two bitches?" Drell asked, lowering himself to beside Raven.

 

"Not long.  Why don't you go check up on them.  I'll just give our pets an appetizer," Raven replied.

 

"Certainly," Drell answered, then turned and left.

 

* * *

 

Back in the interrogation cell that had instead turned into Chedra and Psikaris' worst nightmare, Myrik had just finished taking his perverse pleasure with their less-than-willing bodies.  He knelt above them, wearing a satisfied grin on his face, leering at them. "At least there's one thing you half-breed whores are good for," he remarked, and gave them a final lewd caress before climbing off the bed altogether.

Chedra lay still for several moments, unable to move partly because of the remaining effects of Myrik’s trance, and partly because she could still feel the terrible sensations of him violating her in every demeaning way possible.  She wanted to roll over and die knowing the things he had done and what he had made her do, both to him and to Psikaris.  She vowed that she would escape and make him pay for what he had done.  Vengeance wasn’t in her nature, but anyone could be pushed too far. 

 

Myrik had completed robing when Drell walked in.  He looked over at the two naked women.  "Get anything out of them?" Drell asked.

 

"Just the pleasure," Myrik replied.

 

"Are you ready for the males?" Drell inquired.

 

"Certainly.  Have you ever known me to back down from a young, healthy body?" Myrik sneered, Drell shook his head.  "They're yours, if you want them.  They'll offer you no resistance, unless they want me to come back."

 

Psikaris' eyes widened.  She'd thought her torments were through.  Now it seemed that there was more!  It was with a peculiar mixture of hatred and happiness that she heard Drell's response.  "No thanks.  I prefer my women to be of my race, not these spawns of some demented god."

 

Myrik shrugged.  "Suit yourself.  Secure the two of them and bring them to the festivities," he said with a chuckle.  "Now where did you say the men are being kept?"

 

"At the pit, with Raven."

 

"Well then... I'd better be going, before he damages them too much.  They're not nearly as much fun when they're already broken."  Myrick then left, leaving Drell in the room with Chedra and Psikaris.

 

Drell picked up the main pieces of their clothing and threw them at them roughly.  "Get dressed."  He trained a stun laser on them.  "And don't try anything or you will regret it."

 

Chedra numbly sat up and pulled her dress on.  She climbed off the bed and slipped into her sandals, trying to control the rage within her. Before she had a chance to act on it, however, Drell slapped a pair of energy blocking cuffs on her hands.  He then glared at Psikaris.  "Hurry up, bitch."

 

Psikaris looked at her shirt.  It had somehow sustained a tear, but it wasn't anything serious.  Frantically she dressed for the man and found shackles around her wrists in seconds.  "Now then, you canine excrement, you and I are going to ‘the pit' to watch your friends get eaten alive.  When we're done with them we'll throw you in too, unless Myrik decides he'd rather enjoy your company more," Drell said, indicating the door.  Head bowed in surrender, for now, Psikaris walked along that dark passageway.

 

Chedra too had no choice but to follow.  Keeping her eyes low, she tried to blink back tears of hopelessness as Drell led her to what would surely be her demise.

 

* * *

 

The junkyard slowly came into view.  Old ships of many different types lay in various states.  Some were no more than a wing or a wheel.  Psychro punched a few buttons, sending a secret code to the junkyard's owner.  "Permission to come on down, matey," a voice crackled over the radio.

 

"That'll be Captain Traevis.  He's an old veteran from the fifth moon.  Charming, isn't he?" Psychro remarked drily.

 

Fantasy smirked.  "He sounds like one of those old space pirates or something."  Her expression grew more serious again.  "But as long as he's not out to arrest us, that's what matters, I suppose."

 

Once permission to land had been granted, they set the ship down in the wreckage lot and cautiously stepped out. 

 

"So what brings you all the way over here?" Traevis asked Psychro.

 

"The usual stuff.  A run in with the law.  Figured you might have some information for us," Psychro replied.

 

"I've always got information, but some information has a price.  Come on inside we'll talk," Traevis said, indicating small shuttle that would never fly again.  Psychro shrugged and followed him in.

 

Fantasy looked around the large wreckage lot, wrinkling her nose in slight distaste as she took in the less than picturesque sight, but followed Traevis and Psychro anyway.  He led them inside the decrepit ship that now served as living quarters and gestured to a two-seat couch that had seen better days for them to take a seat in.  Fantasy wordlessly took her seat and waited for either Traevis or Psychro to speak.

 

Traevis opened up a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Plundarrian whiskey.  First he gestured to Fantasy.  "Care for a drink, sweet lady?"

 

Fantasy politely shook her head.  "No thanks."

 

Traevis shrugged and turned to Psychro.  "How about you?  I'll be pourin' myself one if ye don't mind," he said, pulling a glass out off the shelf and filling it halfway.  "So tell me, Psychro, what sort of information do you be needin'?  What kind of trouble are ye in this time?"

 

Psychro flopped down on the couch, and waved off the drink.  "That's just it, Traevis, I don't know what I've done.  There we were, peacefully sitting at my kitchen table discussing the outcome of the Lunar Marathon when some cops showed up, calling us ‘half-breed rebels.'  I want to know what's going on."

 

"Sitting at your kitchen table?  Your sexual preferences are none of my concern.  What can you offer me?" Traevis asked.

 

"See that ship that we came in?  It's yours if you want it.  But, we get information and a safe place to stay.  I don't give away my customer's ships lightly.  I'll be back once this is done to pick it up again," Psychro said.

 

Fantasy quirked an eyebrow.  "Kitchen table?  Did I miss something there?"

 

Traevis chuckled and took a big swig of his drink.  "No, missy, I just know the man you be keepin' company with too well to know the only kind of marathon he's interested in be one between the sheets," he replied matter-of-factly.  "Though I must say, you're a fine one to be havin' such a run with," the old captain remarked with a lewd wink, and finished his drink.

 

Fantasy debated as to whether she should slug him or take it as a complement, and instead settled on a mild roll of the eyes.

 

Traevis noticed.  "Aye, my apologies if I've offended ye, miss.  Wouldn't do to upset my guests, now would it?"  He then looked at Psychro.  "And yes, that means I be willin' to accept the offer for that ship in exchange for some information and hospitality," he said, and poured himself a second drink.

 

Traevis wandered over to a small cabinet and made a pretense of rifling through papers.  "It's all a ploy," Psychro whispered.  "He's got a mind like a steel trap.  He's got what we want and he knows precisely where it is.  He's just doing to make us sweat.  I've worked with him before."

 

"Ah ha.  I found something that might just be innerestin' to ye.  Seems you two ain't the only ones of questionable blood, if you'll excuse me sayin' so, to go disappearin'.  Why, only yesterday five crosses disappeared, haven't been heard since," Traevis said, placing a lengthy list of about twenty names, on the desk.

 

A chill ran through Fantasy's body at the dark-dweller's words.  "You mean... someone or something... is abducting people like us?  Just for being half-breeds?"  She felt a horrible feeling of deja vu.  "I left Thundera to get away from that," she growled contemptuously.  "The Tigers of Thundera were bad enough... and I never had any trouble here on the Fourth Moon until now."

 

She took the liberty of reaching for the list.  "All of them just vanished?" she questioned Traevis.

 

"Vanished, abducted, arrested, had 'accidents', all sorts of excuses.  In fact, I heard that there was a raid at a local waterin' hole named 'The Last Refuge' just a few hours ago where four more of your kind were taken in, two men an' two ladies.  Claimed they were disturbin' the peace or something."

 

The colour drained from Psychro's face as he snatched the list from Fantasy's hands.  Just as he suspected the last name on the list was Psikaris.  "Has anything happened to them yet?  My sister was there shortly before we left.  She's on the list," Psychro said, his voice a blend of fear, sadness and anger.  "She'd better be alive or else there are going to be many more bodies piling up somewhere, more than there will be if she is alive."

 

"Well now, that is a pity.  Well, let's tune into the police radio and see what we can find," Traevis said, flipping on a nearby radio.

 

"All units be on the look out for a female Psi-Tiger cross and a male Psi-Ice cross.  Both are wanted for the unprovoked attack on two officers as well as theft, assault and treason.  Consider both to be armed and dangerous.  Shoot to kill," the radio blared.

 

Fantasy squeezed Psychro's hand sympathetically when she heard about his sister.  She didn't know her, and hell, she didn't even know Psychro well beyond a physical sense, but even she wasn't so shallow as to not feel a shred of concern for her most recent toy.  But when she heard the broadcast, her sympathy changed to rage.  "What?  That's bullshit!" she snarled.  "We didn't steal anything!  And the shot, well... we were defending ourselves!"

 

Traevis shrugged.  "Aye, miss, perhaps that be true, but lately there's been a faction with a strong sentiment against your kind an' more than a few of 'em are in high places if you follow my meanin'.  Particularly the ones with the cat blood like you, but now them purists even be goin' after ones like Psychro here who are all Lunar," he said matter-of-factly.

 

"Then we'll just have to turn the tables on them.  Just point me in the right direction and you'll have a whole mess of heads on the ground," Psychro said.

 

"Well then.  Ye'll be wantin' a way into the prisons.  That be tricky business.  Tell ya what.  I'll provide ye with blueprints to that there fortress, and supply you with some weapons.  All ye've got to do is git rid of that deranged hobo sleeping in one o me ships.  I'd take care of ‘im me self, but my back isn't what it used to be," Traevis said.

 

"I'm sure he's easily taken care of," Fantasy said confidently.  "If he's deranged, then one of my little reality shifts ought to do a number on him, and send him running for his life.  Unless, of course, you want him dead?"

 

"As long as he ain't on my property an' he don't come back, girlie, I don't care," Traevis replied. "So what do you say Psychro?  Have we got a deal?"

 

"Sure thing.  Chalk up one less hobo on your turf.  Where is he?" Psychro asked.

 

"Big bulk cruiser at the north end.  Painted bright red.  Got the name ‘Purple Maiden' on it.  Can't miss it," Traevis said.

 

Psychro led the way to the cruiser in question.  The thing was hardly as big as he'd expected, probably because only a quarter of the ship was there.  As Traevis had described the ship was red and was christened the Purple Maiden.  From within there came a strange wailing sound.

 

"That must be our nutcase," Fantasy remarked.  "Should we take a subtle approach, or barge right in?"

 

"Let's go for subtle.  Between the two of us we should be able to deal with whatever he can throw at us," Psychro replied.

 

Fantasy smiled.  "I like the way you think."  She then went up to the ship and rapped lightly on the hull.  "Hello?" she called.

 

There was a sound of scuffling within, followed by an angry wail.  Several more bangs sounded, and Fantasy stepped back, and just in time, for a large chunk of twisted metal came flying at her head from one of the broken windows of the ship.  "I SAID I DON'T WANT ANY!" screamed the assailant, who appeared to be an Ice clan Lunatac, and a particularly nutty one at that.

 

"Tough luck, bucky, you're about to get plenty!  Forget the subtlety for now.  I want to get this over with," Psychro said, breathing a stream of ice through the broken window.  There was a startled gasp and a stream of fire was shot out in retaliation.  "Not one of my smarter moves," Psychro admitted,  "Sorry."

 

The second assault knocked Fantasy flat on her behind.  Irritated, she let out a distinctively tiger-like growl of annoyance and got to her feet. "All right then, this should flush him out of there."

 

She focused carefully on the ship and mentally reached out for the man in it, and drew him into her spell long enough to cast a realistic illusion that it was raining rock salt in the ship.

 

This time he screamed in agony, as he imagined the substance that was such an irritant to Ice Lunatacs burning painfully into his skin as it pelted him.  He stumbled around in the ship wildly and then came running out.

 

Psychro was ready this time and pounced, his shoulder colliding with the back of the man's legs, bringing him down hard.  "Listen you.  This is no longer your home.  I'm going to be nice, but only so that the lady here doesn't see your blood.  Once you're outside the premises you will never return," Psychro growled.

 

The vagrant, who still believed that he was suffering third degree burns from the rock salt, whimpered in agreement.  "Okay, okay, I'll go."

 

Fantasy and Psychro were escorted to a different room in Traevis' home.  He had a large map rolled out on a large green table.  To the side were two briefcases which Psychro assumed carried their weapons.  "Now.  This here is where yer friends is most likely to be," Traevis said, pointing at the basement of the prison.  "There be a number of torture type places down there.  It be making sense that if these crossbreeds is to be murdered, that they'd torture ‘em first."

 

Psychro nodded.  "Unfortunately, you're right.  If ‘Karis has been hurt I might just use some of those torture devices on their owners," he growled.

 

Fantasy paled slightly when she looked at the complexity of the design, and the size of the torture chambers.  She was not thrilled about the prospect of joining in on a jailbreak for people she didn’t know.  Heroism wasn’t her thing.  Saving her own neck was.  But at this point, she didn’t have much choice.  She couldn’t run away with her face and name plastered all over the news as a fugitive, and if she didn’t stay with Psychro, she’d be on her own altogether.  Odds were better if she kept his company.  Besides, he was cute, in his arrogant macho sort of way.  She eyed the designs again.  “That’s going to take some doing to break in,” she mused. 

 

“Aye,” Traevis agreed.  “The best bet be findin’ a way to sneak in.  Disguise yerself or somethin’.  An’ make sure ye be armed.  If’n they find ye, it’ll be you in those chambers.  Or worse.”

 

“That I can take care of,” Fantasy said.  “I can project the image that we look not only like pure-bloods, but that we’re ones that belong there.  So long as we don’t run into any high-order mentalists who might be able to see through it, we should be all right.”  She turned to Psychro.  “What do you think?”

 

Psychro picked up one of the suitcases and flicked it open.  He produced a high powered energy rifle.  His eyes narrowed as he brought its laser pointer to a point across the room.  "Just point me in the right direction and I'll cause a world of hurt to some lucky bastard," he replied.

 

"Your friend here may not be big on words, but trust his strength.  I've worked with him before, he's a good man.  If only his brain weren't in his pants half o' the time," Traevis remarked, "will ye be needing a new ship to drop ye off closer to the prison?"

 

“Considering that the cops have a description of Psychro’s ship, I think that’d be a good idea,” Fantasy replied.  She looked over the impressive weapon in Psychro’s hands.  “Hmm… have a more portable version of that for me?  I’m not half bad with a hand laser.”

 

Traevis nodded and indicated the other briefcase.  "Each briefcase contains one rifle and one pistol plus two extra clips in case they be needed.  Now.  I've got a salvage ship that be leaving to pick up an old car near there.  It be remote controlled so ye'll have the place to yerself for the ride.  I'll ye to it as soon as you're ready," he said, handing a copy of the blueprints to Fantasy.

 

She took the blueprints, committed the basic details to memory, then folded them neatly and put them in her jacket pocket.  She picked up the other briefcase and opened it.  The pistol was more her usual style as opposed to the rifle, but she had to admit that the shiny metal weapon was impressive.  She carefully lifted it out of the case and held it to get a feel for it, and powered it up, preparing to take a test shot to see how it handled.

 

Traevis’ eyes widened in shock.  “Great moons of Plundarr, missy, don’t do yer target practice in here!  One wrong move an’ you’ll take out me entire livin’ room!” 

 

Fantasy raised an eyebrow, a smile of mild amusement playing across her lips, and set it down.  “All right.  If you insist.”  She replaced it in the case and closed it, then smiled flirtatiously at Traevis.  “Thanks.  I have a feeling we’ll need these.”  She picked up her briefcase and looked to Psychro.  “Ready?”

 

A hint of the old Psychro reared its head as he flashed a sly smile.  "Whenever you are, darling," he replied.

 

The ship that Traevis led the pair to was a fair sized garbage scow.  It contained massive retractable claws that could easily lift a freighter and carry it back to Traevis.  The old man tapped a few buttons on a hand held gizmo to reveal a small hatch in the bottom.  Another few taps and a ladder dropped.  "Ye'll probably want to git out that way," he remarked, "the button to it is just inside on the wall.  Ye'll know when it's reached its destination by the loud sound of the claws extending.  It's the best I can do." He shrugged.

 

"It's fine, Traevis.  When this is over, I'll come back to settle our debt," Psychro said.

 

"No you won't.  Not immediately.  Sorry I have to do this," Traevis said, whipping out a second weapon.  "This here will wipe any memory of me and this place from your brains temporarily.  Can't have you blabbing me name when the pressure is on."

 

Fantasy stiffened and backed toward the ship.  She didn’t trust his “memory loss weapon” in the least.  Traevis frowned and shot her instead.  She let out a shriek of pain and stumbled forward as the beam hit.  It didn’t do any more physical harm than a minor blister, but for a few moments her head spun and she felt numb all over.  Disoriented, she looked over, and saw a man she didn’t recognize pointing a weapon at Psychro… and fire.

 

For a brief moment Psychro considered attacking, but then he felt mind numbing pain wash over him.  He shook his head furiously and heard a strange man say "You have your chance to rescue your friends.  Go now."  Psychro didn't understand it, he knew that the man was right, even though he'd never seen him before in his life.  "You okay Fantasy?" he asked, seeing her in apparent pain.

 

She nodded.  “I’m fine.  Just a little stunned I guess,” she replied.  She started up the ladder into the ship.  “We’d better get going.  I’m not sure what just happened, but we probably shouldn’t stick around too much longer, in case someone shows up to arrest us.”

 

Psychro climbed into the large ship, catching himself staring at the rear end of Fantasy as she climbed the ladder, and settled on a small crate within.  The ladder retracted, and a panel slid back into place.  The engines hummed as the vessel slowly lifted off the ground.  "Alright, so what's the plan?  You disguise us and we walk in through the front door?" Psychro asked.

 

“Works for me.  I’ll convince the guards that we’re Psi officers of high rank, and make us appear in a fitting uniform.  They won’t even question us walking in with loaded laser rifles then,” she explained.  “You know, I imagine you’ll look quite handsome in uniform,” she purred flirtatiously.

 

* * *

 

Knave's eyes widened as a half graviton and half lion was dragged into the interrogation chamber.  Raven then teasingly lowered him inch by inch into the pit with the creatures.  He winced suddenly as one creature grabbed the graviton/lion by the leg and tore the limb from its socket.  The ear splitting scream from the prisoner was intense and Knave backed away from the edge of his cage.  "Just think.  That will soon be you," Raven snickered.

 

In the cage nearby, Kraedon was disgusted and more than a little bit afraid after watching the gruesome display.  “Sick bastards,” he growled under his breath, shaking his head as he watched the beast lap up the crimson puddle of blood with its slimy thirteen inch tongue. 

 

“Your stubbornness surprises me,” Raven remarked.  “I figured at least one of you would be begging for your worthless lives by now.  After all, we know what spineless cowards you half-breeds are.”

 

Kraedon turned away from the grotesque bloodbath and glared at Raven.  “We’re not the ones getting some perverse kick out of watching an unarmed innocent be eaten alive, nor are we the ones locking sentient beings up in cages and blocking their powers so they can’t fight back,” he replied coldly.

 

Raven’s eyes blazed with hatred.  “Save your ‘noble last words’ for your execution, kid… though I’m sure nobody here gives a mutant’s hindquarters what a lowly half-breed has to say anyway.” 

 

“Only if he’s saying ‘yes, Master’,” a leering Myrik called out as he entered the chamber. 

 

Raven turned and greeted the mentalist with a conspiratory smile.  He knew Myrik’s reputation all too well, and although he personally found the Psi man’s sexual tastes utterly revolting, he still appreciated how effectively it humiliated the prisoners.  “Ah, Myrik, welcome to the show.”

 

“Did I miss much?”

 

“Only the appetizer.  But I believe you met him already… the part lion?”

 

Myrik laughed.  “Ah, Lygrev.  Yes, I got to know him quite well earlier, before I dealt with the two bitches from the bar.”

 

“And?” Raven prompted.

 

A lewd smirk crossed Myrik’s lips.  “Oh, you how women who hang out in bars are.  They were easy,” he laughed.  “To… interrogate, of course.” 

 

“And now they’re here for the show, too,” Drell announced as he forced Psikaris and Chedra into the room at gunpoint.  The two of them reluctantly went forward, and both gasped in horror when they saw that the place they’d heard was called “The Pit” was. 

 

Kraedon sighed inwardly when he saw them brought in.  He had hoped that they would spare their lives at least, since they hadn’t been involved in the barfight.  Not that their being arrested had anything to do with the barfight, he realized grimly. 

 

Myrik leered at Chedra and Psikaris just long enough to give them an uncomfortable reminder of what he’d done to them before he turned and eyed up Knave and Kraedon in the cages.  “Are they the other two from The Last Refuge?” he asked Raven.

 

The dark-dweller nodded an affirmative.

 

“How delightful,” Myrik answered.  “Have they been much trouble?”

 

“Aren’t half-breeds always trouble?” Raven snorted in disgust.  “They’re disrespectful, insolent, violent, and rude.  That one is a complete savage,” he said, pointing to Knave, “and that one has a foul mouth.  You should hear some of the disgusting obscenities that came out of him,” he said, referring to Kraedon.

 

“What a shame, such vile things coming out of a handsome young man like him.  Perhaps I’ll have to teach him some manners by showing him firsthand what those vulgarities mean.”

 

“Lay one hand on me and you die,” Kraedon snarled.

 

“Threaten any of us again and you die slower,” snapped an irritated Drell.  “Or maybe one of your bitch friends will pay the price instead.”  He then smacked Chedra with the barrel of his gun.  She cried out and stumbled back, but Psikaris caught her before she lost her balance.

 

Myrik ignored Kraedon’s comment for the time being and moved on to check out Knave instead.  The interrogator’s eyes roamed slowly over his muscular furred chest, and then lower.  “Oh, what a little wildcat this one is,” he remarked, his eyes lingering on the icy cheetah’s behind.  “And so nicely built, too.”

 

Knave had never considered himself to be self conscious, not by a long shot, but the overly physical attention being paid to him by the psi was akin to being mentally stripped.  He hid that particular part of his body as much as possible from the probing mind and leering eyes of Myrik.  "My word.  I thought you said he was savage, and yet here we see him being so bashful and shy.  It's okay, little one.  Uncle Myrik won't hurt you," Myrik sneered.  "Bring him down to me.  I believe a little inspection is in order.  I am most curious if all Cheetah half breeds bear spots from head to toe.  Raven glared slightly at the older man, but pressed a small button to manoeuver the cage closer.  "You will stay absolutely still," Myrik commanded Knave, then to Drell, "shackle his wrists and ankles to the bars."

 

Raven looked to the two females who were now unguarded and advanced slightly towards them, forcing them to back into the wall.  He didn't have to watch what was about to happen, the looks on the faces of the women would tell him everything he needed to know.

 

Knave's mind struggled fiercely against the mental powers of Myrik, even as his clothes were torn from his body.  Probing hands began to poke and prod at his most sensitive areas.  Perhaps most devastatingly painful of all was when Myrik decided to connect each spot along his thighs with a needle like dagger.

 

"Stop it!  Please!" Psikaris pleaded.

 

"Silence," Raven snapped raising his hand as if to strike, but then he heard Myrik's voice stop him.

 

"No.  She's right, I should.  She may continue my ministrations of this one," Myrik sneered, turning his full psychic powers on the youngest member of the Myntaello family.  Slowly Psikaris moved forward and knelt before Knave and resumed where Myrik had left off.

 

Kraedon saw what was happening to Knave and averted his yes, instead focusing them on Raven, who contentedly watching the forced x-rated act for its humiliating value upon the participants, and Drell, who was taking a cruel delight in forcing Chedra to watch.  Each time her eyes wandered, she was roughly reminded with a blow to the side of the head that she ought to stay focused if she knew what was good for her.

 

Myrik meanwhile refocused his attention on Kraedon.  “What’s the matter, are you feeling a little lonely up there?  Jealous, perhaps?  Maybe you wanted to be the one to take the blue bitch home for the night instead of your friend there?”

 

Kraedon turned and glared at him.  “Fuck you.”

 

Myrik grinned lecherously.  “If you insist.  Raven?”

 

The dark-dweller nodded and lowered Kraedon’s cage as he did Knave’s, and guards quickly assembled around the cage while Myrik thralled the rebellious Lunatac into not resisting.  Since his powers were based in telekinesis and not hypnosis, it wasn’t a difficult task, especially since what mental powers Kraedon did have were blocked by the cuffs.  Before long, Kraedon found himself bound to the bars and stripped, vulnerable to whatever twisted pleasures Myrik would take with him.  The sleazy interrogator grinned with anticipation and slid his hand lewdly over his trembling body.

 

“I swear I’ll tear you limb from limb with my bare hands,” Kraedon growled, the fear in his voice now showing as clearly as his anger.

 

“I do so love it when you get rough,” Myrik cooed with false sweetness, then grabbed a thick lock of Kraedon’s hair and yanked it back, pulling his head at a painful angle.  “You’re going to die soon anyway, so you might as well relax and enjoy what will probably be your last moments of pleasure before you’re the one who’s torn apart limb from limb,” he whispered, his voice taking on a vicious snarl as he spoke.  He then shoved Kraedon’s head back forward, slamming it into the iron bars of his cage, and much to Kraedon’s dismay, proceeded to make good on his threat.

 

* * *

 

Inside the garbage scow Psychro sat tensed.  His every muscle itching to leap into action.  Then the ship stopped and its claws began extending.  He remembered a conversation, though he couldn't remember with whom, and knew that now was their chance to escape.  He popped open the hatch and dropped the few feet to the ground.  Time was limited.  Every passing second could bring Psikaris that much closer to her death.  The prison compound lay across a wide open field.  There was a high wall surrounding it, and a gate manned by two men on the ground and eight more in the control towers above.  Psychro pointed it out to Fantasy.  "Now would be a good time for those disguises," he said.

 

“Coming right up,” she replied confidently.  She then closed her eyes and focused, projecting the image of officers’ uniforms bearing high-ranking insignias over their clothing, and then their physical appearances also changed to the average onlooker.  Fantasy’s tiger stripes vanished, leaving a smooth purple complexion in their place, while her black and gold striped hair changed to a solid, silky black.  Her catlike eyes were replaced with the luminous, intense eyes of a full-blooded Psi, and her clawlike fingertips shifted to fingernails.

 

Once her own image was complete, she changed Psychro’s appearance.  His blue skin reverted to a light purple, while his white hair changed hue and texture to match that of his psychic roots, instead of the ice-borne ones.  Now that their look was projected, all that remained was for them to get inside.  “You’ll need to talk our way in if you can.  I’ll have to conserve as much of my energy as I can to maintain the disguise.  I can convince anyone we run into that what they’re seeing is real and keep the illusion, but it’ll be much easier if you do all the talking,” she told him as she pocketed her pistol and clips, and picked up her laser rifle.

 

Psychro marvelled briefly at the sight of his new hands, but shook his head slightly.  "Alright then.  Let's go," he said, and led the way across to the gates, his body naturally taking on the military pace of someone his rank.  The two guards at the gate saluted crisply as they approached and opened the gates.  "Figures.  Gravitons.  Only they would forget to ask for identification," Psychro murmured when they were safely out of ear shot.  "The place we want should be down this corridor and down several flights of stairs.  The elevator's a little farther though, but might be faster in the long run and easier on your energy supply," Psychro said, more to talk out the plan to himself than for any real need to discuss it with Fantasy.

 

Fantasy nodded and followed him to the elevator.  Even though they were already inside, she wasn’t ready to drop the illusion.  There was no point in doing that if they could simply claim they were there to take the prisoners into their custody and walk them out, rather than risk being discovered and have to fight to get them—not to mention themselves—out.  Once they were alone in the elevator, she relaxed briefly, lowering the illusion to a point that would fool only any necessary cameras.  “So far, so good,” she murmured to Psychro.

 

Then the elevator stopped and the doors slid open to reveal a long, dimly lit corridor that had a set of doors that opened into what they could only guess was some sort of arena or wide chamber.  Strange sounds, muffled echoes of talking, cries of pain, moans of pleasure, and even hints of a sad whimper could be heard coming from that direction.  Fantasy steeled herself, doubled her concentration, and tightened her grip on the laser rifle.  She had a feeling she was going to need it once they got in there. 

 

The doors to the rear room opened and Psychro was filled with revulsion.  The one named Kraedon had a look of pleasure mixed with hatred.  Myrik, kneeling before had his face pressed up against the other man's crotch.  Raven stood, mocking the helpless prisoners.  Drell had his finger nails driven into Chedra's skull, forcing her to watch Knave, his head thrown back in ecstasy, being administered to by... Psikaris!  Throwing caution to the wind Psychro charged forward, his laser rifle spraying energy at the eight guards in the room, his icy breath aimed at Raven, the one closest to him.  Four of the guards fell, one more jumped backwards and inadvertently landed in the pit.  The other three rolled to cover.  Raven gasped, unable to move his right arm.  "What's this?" Myrik demanded, whirling around to face the intruders.

 

"Your worst nightmare!" Psychro bellowed.

 

Though he wasn’t quite sure what had happened, nonetheless Kraedon was grateful for the distraction and took the opportunity to give Myrik a well-deserved kick in the back, sending him sprawling to the floor. 

 

“Half-breed mutant shit,” Drell snarled to both Psychro and Kraedon.  He dropped Chedra and fired wildly at them both.

 

Fantasy shouldered her rifle and went to Chedra.  “Hold your hands out.”

 

Chedra looked at her dazedly.  “What?”

 

“Just do it!”

 

“Okay…” Chedra held out her hands.  Fantasy pulled the pistol from her belt and carefully shot the blocking cuffs off her wrists, allowing them to fall to floor useless.  Chedra flexed her wrists and smiled at the woman who appeared to be a Psi general.  Maybe there was some justice after all, she thought hopefully.  “Thanks,” she whispered.

 

“Don’t thank me yet, we’re not out of here,” Fantasy replied.

 

Still grunting with the pain from the blow he took, Raven faced them.  “And you’re not going to be.”  He used his good arm to summon a fireball, as he had done in the bar, and threw it at the two of them.

 

Chedra stood up and glared at the man.  Now that her powers were no longer blocked, she intended to pay her captors back for what they’d done to her and the others.  “We’ll see about that,” she retorted, and created a magical shield around the two of them that deflected his beam away from them harmlessly. 

 

Psikaris struggled to force her head away from Knave's masculine form to turn and look at her brother, but Myrik's powers were strong.  Weakly she raised one hand to show her brother who to attack, and he appeared to take great delight in that knowledge.  He charged forward at the dazed Psi, preparing to strike him down with the barrel of his rifle, but one of the snipers managed graze his elbow.  This served to distract him long enough for Myrik to gather his wits about him.  "You will cease this pointless activity now.  You will turn around and shoot your friends," Myrik intoned.

 

"I must shoot my friends," Psychro stammered, his gun shaking in his hand and a tear welling in his eye as he aimed at the heart of Fantasy.  The same heart he believed he had already captured, must now be destroyed.

 

Her eyes were wildly looking around for a way to gain an advantage in the mayhem breaking loose in the chamber when Fantasy caught sight of Psychro’s gun trained on her a moment too late.  She froze in place as their gazes locked, her eyes drawn into his.  She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, and yet she couldn’t tear herself away, to the point that she also didn’t see Myrik focusing on her as well.  He’s betrayed you, some inner voice told her.  Just like the tigers did.  Just like they all do.  Shoot that cold bastard in his icy heart before he does it to you.  And despite what her own heart argued, her fingers tightened their grip around her pistol nonetheless.

 

Knave looked over at the action, he hated what he saw, and felt for that matter.  The tension was rising between his legs and he fought to maintain whatever shred of dignity he had left.  "Psychro, no!" he shouted, "think of our sisters!"

 

Psychro's head snapped to the side and he saw Knave and Psikaris once more.  He couldn't bring himself to shoot, could he?  A wealth of memories of himself and Fantasy, intertwined, came flooding into his brain.  "I must obey..." he stammered, falling to one knee.  "I can't!"

 

The sound of her lover’s voice cut through the thoughts Myrik was imposing on Fantasy, and her fingers lightened on the trigger of her pistol.  “Psychro…”

 

Chedra also saw what was happening.  A feeling of despair settled over her when she saw that although they were fighting it, there was no guarantee that they would be able to do it for long.  I can’t let Myrik win, Chedra decided.  I can’t let him get away with hurting anyone else.  Knowing that taking on the mage with her lesser mesmerizing powers was pointless, she instead drew on her magical powers.  She raised her arms and chanted a short verse.  Suddenly the cuffs that held the bound Kraedon and Knave in place were transformed to dust, and the two former prisoners found themselves free.

 

Kraedon, far too consumed with anger to care that he was still naked and showing the effects of Myrik’s unwelcome attentions, leapt forward from his prison and pounced on the hypnotist, knocking him to the floor.  “You vile piece of kkrekk,” he snarled, digging his knees into his back as his eyes blazed with pure rage and fury.  “You’re never going to touch someone against their will ever again.”  He focused his gravity-based telekinetic powers on the portion of the Psi man’s anatomy that he used to violate his victims—and began to crush it.

 

Knave's shackles were gone, and he smiled viciously.  He glanced around and saw some action still going on, but his eyes found the one man he wanted to find.  Raven.  His inborn Cheetah speed allowed him to cross the short distance between them as, with a fury in his eyes, he grabbed Raven by the collar of his shirt.  "Those poor creatures are getting hungry, Raven.  Why don't we feed them?" He asked, muscling him over to the pit.

 

Psychro watched in slow motion as a Darkness Lunatak raised his rifle and fired on the helpless Knave.  Both the half breed and Raven toppled over the edge.  Psychro's own rifle ended the guard's macho posturing.  "I'll get Knave," he shouted to his friends, "Although we may have had our differences, he doesn't deserve to die like this."

 

Chedra nodded and put an arm around the disoriented Fantasy, who was slipping out of Myrik’s broken psychological hold now that Kraedon was in the process of beating the hypnotist into a bloody pulp.  She saw Psychro climb into the pit and raced forward, breaking away from Chedra.  “Psychro!  Oh, please be careful!” she cried, running up to the very edge and watching from above.

 

“He will,” Chedra assured her before her gaze fell on Kraedon.  The young half-Psi, half-Graviton knelt over Myrik’s motionless body, still shaking.  Chedra walked over and laid a hand on his shoulder.  “Are you all right?”

 

“I killed him.”  It came out as only a statement, with no remorse and surprisingly little emotion.  He met Chedra’s eyes.  “I crushed him from the inside out… ending with his lungs and his sick, twisted mind.”

 

“He deserved it,” she said softly.  “After what he did to you… to me… to Knave and her…” she turned toward a dazed-looking Psikaris and stepped toward her.  “Are you all right?”

 

Emerging from the cover he’d taken while he recharging his weapon, Drell fired in Chedra and Kraedon’s direction and roughly grabbed Psikaris, pressing his pistol to her head.  “Not if you don’t freeze where you are right now, bitch,” he snarled.  “That goes for all of you.  Make one move and I blow her head off.”

 

Psychro saw one of the lumbering creatures move towards Knave's prone form.  Raven had absorbed most of the blow, but Knave's head had still bounced against a rock.  Psychro was only dimly aware of what was going on above.  He fired his rifle twice and shot a burst of flame from his fingertips.  The brute fell back, but was quickly replaced by another of its kind.  Psychro groaned.  There were at least a dozen of these things, and he still had no idea on how to get out of the pit.  He finally reached Knave and stood over his body, defending him like he would a treasured lover.

 

Psikaris struggled slightly in Drell's grasp.  "Let go of me," she moaned, as four sharp fingernails bore into the meaty flesh of her shoulder.  There was a knee pressed into her back.  "Stop moving and this will hurt less.  Momentarily," Drell snapped.  Psikaris whimpered, but held perfectly still.

 

The last two remaining guards stood and walked slowly over to where the captives were, their guns too were levelled.  "We shouldn't have much to worry about those two," one of the guards said, referring to Knave and Psychro.

 

“Now you two put your hands in the air and get over by your friend.  And don’t try anything funny unless you want to see what her brains look like splattered on the floor, half-breeds,” the other guard said contemptuously.

 

Knowing that they weren’t bluffing, Chedra and Kraedon had no choice but to obey.  The two reluctantly did as they were told and moved toward Drell and Psikaris.  One of the guards pulled out a pair of cuffs while the other kept his gun trained on the pair.

 

With all the commotion with the hostage situation, the two guards had overlooked the presence of Fantasy kneeling by the edge of the pit.  Only vaguely aware of what was happening behind her, she was riveted instead to the terrible scene below.  She was up too high to help pull Psychro and Knave on her own, but she did notice that the sides sloped less steeply on the far side of the pit, and she realized that she could fire on the beasts herself easily enough from up here.  Lifting the laser rifle slung over her shoulder, she took careful aim at beast closest to Psychro and Knave, and shot it in the gut.  The creature roared in pain and stumbled back, so she shot it again.  That shot was fatal.  “Run for the back!” she shouted to Psychro.  “I’ll cover you!”

 

Psychro did not need to be told twice.  He made it a policy to listen to women he was sleeping with, especially when they were holding laser rifles.  Carefully he grabbed Knave around the shoulders and began carrying him across the pit.  Another beast reared it's head, but scurried back as a laser blast took it in the throat.

 

Psikaris knew she had very few options left to her, but she did have one chance.  She drew her head back swiftly, a thin blast of laser fire scorching her hair.  Quickly her hands gripped the barrel of the rifle and, adrenaline pumping through her veins, she pointed it away from herself.  Drell's errant laser blast hit the ground.

 

The two guards immediately fired their weapons.  Kraedon and Chedra instinctively scattered, but he was not as fast as she was and took a hit in the side of the arm.  He let out a pained shout and stumbled, gripping the limb tightly where he’d been hit. 

 

One of the guards aimed his rifle at the wounded half-breed and prepared to fire, but Chedra wasn’t about to let him die.  With the exceptional speed that came with her half cheetah blood, she bolted toward the armed Lunatac and tackled him, knocking the gun from his hands.  At once, the other guard came to the aid of his partner and roughly rammed the barrel of the gun into Chedra’s head.  She cried a soft mewl of pain and slumped to the floor unconscious. 

 

Using his good arm, Kraedon picked up the dropped weapon and shot the guard that had hit Chedra squarely in the back.  He dropped instantly.  He didn’t know if he was dead or not, but he didn’t care, so long as he wasn’t moving.

 

“You going to kill us all, kid?” snarled the remaining guard.  “You’re only digging your own grave by committing murder after murder.  Where do you think you can go after what you’ve done here?  You think you’ll ever see the light of day again?  You think we won’t hunt you down like the animal you are until we bring you back and give you what you deserve?”

 

Kraedon clutched the rifle determinedly and pointed it at the guard.  “I don’t care.  I’ll kill every one of you off if I have to.”  He called over to Drell, who was still struggling with Psikaris.  “Two can play the hostage game.  Surrender or I kill him.”

 

Drell growled and stepped back.  He didn't care about his fellow guards.  He did, however, value his own hide.  "You win, for now, you miserable half-breeds," he called out, raising his own hands into the air.  Psikaris quickly filched his keys and removed her shackles.  "Thanks for the assist," she said, shakily.

 

Raven slowly opened his eyes.  There was an odd shuffling noise around him.  He could see Psychro, far away, carrying Knave out of the pit as best he could.  The strafing laser fire from above was keeping the hungry brutes away from Psychro, which meant.  "Dear gods!" Raven murmured, realizing that the creatures would then be near him.  One of them, alerted by the sound of his voice, shambled over.  Raven had to get up, to get away!  A hungry maw clamped down on his unfrozen arm, rending flesh and bone.  A second creature grabbed hold of his left leg and began chewing on it.  Hot blood spattered across his face as it contorted in agony.  A smaller creature, hungry for food, tore open his stomach and began slurping out his intestines.

 

Psychro half turned as he climbed out the pit, Knave's naked form still draped over one shoulder.  "You owe me for this," Psychro told Knave.  The young Iespyk did not answer, being unconscious still.  With one final lunge, Psychro grabbed the lip of the pit and began trying to hoist Knave out.

 

Now that her cover fire was no longer needed, Fantasy hurried over to help Psychro out of the pit.  She grabbed the ice cheetah’s shoulders and pulled him up while Psychro pushed, until the unconscious half-breed was out of the pit.  She laid Knave out on the floor, away from the pit’s edge, while Psychro climbed out and dusted himself off.  Once Knave was taken care of, she stood and met Psychro’s eyes and smiled with relief and happiness to see that he was all right.  “You make a positively dashing hero, you know that?” she said, a hint of flirtation in her voice.

 

Psychro didn't blush often, but he did now.  "Thanks," he said, standing awkwardly in front of this very beautiful woman.  "I don't often say this, but I think I love you more than I've ever loved a woman.  You'd better real me in now, because it could just be because you saved my life."  With that said he stepped forward quickly and gave her a passionate kiss.

 

Fantasy fell effortlessly into the warm embrace as their lips met, her heart pounding with an unusual amount of emotion as she heard his words.  Normally the words had little effect on her, she had heard them plenty of times and from plenty of admirers, all of whom were little more than a fleeting source of amusement to her fickle nature.  The fact that Psychro was also a man she had written off as an egotistical jerk with the saddest pick-up lines this side of Plundarr made it seem all the stranger… but at that particular moment, she didn’t question it, only enjoyed it, and returned his kiss with equal enthusiasm.

 

Psikaris looked behind Kraedon and Chedra to see her brother kissing a woman.  It wasn't like him, but all things considered, not unexpected.  "Looks like we've got things all wrapped up here," she said, "now how do we get out of here?"

 

Now that all the immediate threats were taken care of, Kraedon suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was still stark naked.  The fact that there were two beautiful women standing around him made it that much more awkward for him, and in his opinion it was more uncomfortable than the throbbing laser-wound in his arm.  He lowered the rifle and stared at the floor.  “Um, can someone grab me something to wear first?”

 

There were a few dead guards lying on the ground, but Psikaris doubted Kraedon would want to wear their clothes.  Instead she turned to Drell.  "You.  Get out of those clothes.  Someone else needs them," she said, as sternly as she could muster.

 

"But, I'll be naked!" Drell stammered.

"I've seen naked men before, unfortunately.  Just do as I say and make things easier on yourself," Psikaris said.

 

Drell snickered.  "I won't degrade myself on your behalf," he said, "let the freak walk naked, show off his deformed body."

 

Chedra, still a bit dazed from being knocked out earlier, scowled at Drell.  “The only ‘freak’ here is you,” she hissed contemptuously.

 

“Forget it,” Kraedon said with disgust.  “Walking around like this wouldn’t be any worse than having to look at him without them anyway.”

 

“Wait a second, there might be a solution to this,” Chedra said.  She focused on Drell and chanted a short spell.  All of a sudden the Psi man’s clothes vanished with the exception of his underwear, and reappeared on Kraedon’s body, much to his relief.  She smiled proudly.  “How’s that?”

 

“I think I’ll still want a shower when I get home, but it’ll do for now,” Kraedon agreed.  If I ever see home again, he added silently.  Somehow he had a feeling that he couldn’t return to his apartment in the city anytime soon.  He glanced toward Psychro and Fantasy, who looked familiar, even though he couldn’t remember exactly where he’d seen them previously.  “Let’s catch up with them and get out of here, once and for all,” he suggested.

 

It was with great reluctance that Psychro broke the kiss.  "There'll be plenty of time for that later.  This is hardly the first place I want to make out in.  Besides, some of our friends are hurt," he said.

 

“Yes, and we should all get out of here, lest some of their backup arrive.  I’m sure we didn’t take care of all of them.”  She glanced at the unconscious Knave on the ground.  “Someone will have to carry him out, too, if he doesn’t wake up.”  She then approached the others, and noticed Kraedon holding his arm.  “Are you all right?  What happened?”

 

Kraedon nodded.  The pain was more noticeable now that the immediate danger was over.  “Shot in the arm,” he replied.  “It’ll heal, and it can wait for now.”

 

Chedra reached for Kraedon’s arm to examine it.  “I don’t know too much healing magic.  We’d better get you to a doctor before too long.”

 

“What about you?” Fantasy inquired.  “There’s blood on your face.”

 

“Just from him,” she said, glaring at Drell.  “It’s only a few scratches.”  She chose not to mention the unspeakable things Myrik had done to her and Psikaris.  The sooner they were forgotten about the better.  She looked at Psikaris.  “Are you all right?”

 

"My mouth's a little sore and the rest of me has seen better days, but it's nothing a few days of rest won't cure," Psikaris replied.  Like Chedra she too chose not to discuss the events in Myrik's distant room.  Instead she tried to focus on Psychro's return.  "I'm so happy to see you're alive!" she said, flinging herself into his arms.

 

"It's okay, Karis, I'm never going to let you go," Psychro murmured, carefully dropping Knave to the ground.  "The question at hand, though, is how are we going to get out of here.  As Fantasy mentioned to me, we have to find a way out of here.  I'm not sure of the limits to her powers, but she probably can't shape change us all."

 

“What are your powers?  Specialized telekinesis?” Kraedon asked the half-tigress.

 

“Illusion,” she corrected him.  “It’s more of a tiger than a Psi thing.  But I can’t really extend them too broadly for very long.  I’ll try, but…” her voice trailed off.  She wasn’t looking forward to trying.  She still had a bit of a headache from holding the illusion over herself and Psychro for so long earlier.

 

Kraedon looked to Chedra.  “You have magic.  Can you do anything?”

 

“I could probably cast an invisibility spell over us for a short while.  I’m not a formally trained mage though, so I can’t guarantee how long it’ll last.”

 

Fantasy shrugged.  “Like the old saying goes, beggars can’t be choosers.  If you think you can pull it off, that sounds like our best option.”  She glanced over her shoulders nervously.  “I don’t think we should stick around here very long.”

 

Chedra knelt beside Knave and gave him a gentle shake, hoping to rouse him.  “What if he doesn’t wake up?  Who’s going to carry him?”

 

“That’s something I can do,” Kraedon said.

 

“But your arm—” Fantasy interrupted.

 

“I can move him with gravity based telekinesis,” Kraedon cut her off.  “I can lighten him up so it’s like nothing to move him.  He looks like a good shot, so he should be leading us out of here,” he said, gesturing to Psychro.  “I can’t aim a rifle for shit like this anyway, so I might as well be of some use.”  He took off the gun he’d taken from the guard and handed it to Psikaris.  “You’ll probably be better off with this than me.”

 

Psikaris dropped down out of Psychro's arms and took the offered weapon from Kraedon.  Then, along with her brother, she took the lead position.  The door swung open easily and they slowly moved down the hall under Chedra's invisibility.  They passed very few people in the corridor, and most of those had their heads bowed so as to not notice anything that might have been going on.  Finally they reached the elevator, guarded by a muscular Graviton.  "You keep an eye on the halls," he whispered to Psikaris as he stepped closer to the guard.  She nodded and moved down the hall slightly.  The laser rifle powered up, it's barrel pointed at the rotund creature's brain, and fired, causing excessive brain damage and killing the Lunatak.  Psychro summoned the elevator and held the door open for his companions.  "How are you holding up?" he asked Chedra.

 

Chedra felt a bit taxed by the spell, but she was managing.  “So long as I don’t have to use magic for anything else, we should be in the clear… so to speak,” she said shaking her head at the inadvertent bad pun.

 

“I don’t remember the hallways being this long and windy on our way in,” Kraedon murmured.  “In fact, I don’t remember any of these hallways.  I bet those damtadden wiped out my memory,” he growled.

 

“Psis are like that,” Fantasy said with a bit of a shrug.  “I suppose it’s the easiest way to keep their secrets.  It’s not much longer though.”  She kept her laser pistol drawn and ready to fire. 

 

After what felt like an eternity, they reached the lobby of the complex.  The group gathered in the archway before stepping out.  Four armed Psi guards were on duty near the doorway that led to their freedom.  Chedra took a deep breath and focused the invisibility spell as best she could.  “Well, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.  Let’s get this over with—and hope that none of them are empaths and sense us.”

 

Luckily none of them were.  The guards were, however, startled when the automatic sliding door opened.  "What's going on?" One of the Psis asked.

 

"Uncertain," a second replied, "that door just opened by itself."

 

"Then check it out.  Maybe it's a malfunction or something," the first ordered.

 

The lanky Psi saluted and ran over to the door.  It responded as it was supposed to, meaning that any malfunction was the result of some faulty wiring somewhere.  He began prying open a panel on the side, oblivious to the real cause of the door's opening.

 

Psychro led the ragtag group down the road a little way before pausing behind a clump of bushes.  "We should be safe enough here, for the moment.  Any idea where we want to go from here?  Those cops still have all our vital information," Psychro said.

 

Now that they were safe, Chedra released them from the invisibility spell and sat down to rest.  “I hadn’t thought about that.  I guess we can’t simply go home, can we?”

 

Also relieved that there was a moment to rest, Kraedon set Knave down and gave him a shake, hoping to rouse him from his unconscious state.  “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m getting the hell off this moon for good.  Maybe I’ll go lay low with my old boss on Plundarr for a while.  She’d take us in if need be.  There’s nothing tying me down to this place anyway.”

 

Fantasy stared thoughtfully at the bleak, sandy landscape.  “There’s nothing tying me here either.  I’ve always heard the Third Moon is nice.  Big cities, big crowds… the best place to become someone else.”  It wasn’t like she hadn’t done it before. 

 

"I guess we'll have to close down the old garage," Psychro said.  "Third Moon sounds as good a place as any.  It'd be nice if we could all somehow stay in touch.  We've got family on the second moon, but I don't think I really want to meet up with them again.  Of course, if I had someone to stay with, it might be easier to make the transition to a new home," he added, looking meaningfully at Fantasy.

 

She considered his words.  When she first met him, she never would have expected that they would be anything more than the proverbial ships that passed in the night.  But given all that had happened, maybe it could be more.  She supposed there was only one way to find out.  She smiled back at him.  “Yes it would.”

 

"We might be able to salvage some of our personal possessions from our respective houses, but it'd be risky.  I know this scrap yard owner, his name's Traevis, he might be able to book us passage off this moon," Psikaris said.

 

Knave coughed weakly and opened his eyes.  Suddenly he realized that he was still naked.  A red tinge spread up his face, and he avoided making eye contact with his companions.  "Ice Moon would be fine for me.  My family would probably still take me in, well, Chilla would.  I'm not so sure about my father.  He's got enough political clout that he might be able to absolve me of my crimes," he said.

 

Chedra caught Knave’s embarrassment and used a spell to change the bark and leaves on the bushes to a makeshift pair of shorts.  They weren’t high fashion, but they’d serve their purpose.  Careful to keep her eyes from looking anywhere they shouldn’t, she immediately handed them to Knave.

 

Meanwhile Kraedon considered what Psikaris said.  “If your friend can get us all out of here, the sooner the better.  Once we’re all on the Third Moon, Knave and I can move on from there.”  He glanced at Chedra.  “You too, if you’re not going to stay.  Where are you planning to go?”

 

“Wherever I can, I guess.  I don’t really have anywhere to go.”

 

Kraedon smiled warmly at her.  “Stay with me then.  Like Psychro said, it’s easier to adjust if you’re with someone you know.”

 

“Thanks.  Maybe I will.”

 

“All right then, if that’s settled, let’s head to your friend’s place,” Fantasy said to Psikaris, then frowned.  “What did you say his name was again?  It sounded vaguely familiar… though I’m not sure why.”

 

"His name's Traevis.  Psychro and I have used him on several occasions," Psikaris replied.

 

"We have?" Psychro asked, mystified.

 

"Sure we have.  Don't you remember that time we had to smuggle our uncle off the moon.  He helped us out greatly.  He's got contacts all over, and he knows when to keep his mouth shut," Psikaris replied.

 

"I remember the incident, but I don't remember how we got him here," Psychro began.

 

"What does it matter.  The important thing is that we get off this stinking moon," Knave snapped.

 

“Yeah,” Kraedon agreed.  “The longer we stick around, the better the chance of someone finding us.”  He looked to Psychro and Fantasy.  “Did you two have some kind of ship that brought you here?”

 

“And can it fit all of us?” Chedra added.

 

"We took a garbage collecting vehicle here, but it shouldn't be too difficult to go steal one.  It'll even pay our airfare out of here.  I'll be back," Psychro said, standing.

 

"Be careful," Psikaris murmured.

 

Chedra raised an eyebrow and looked to Psikaris.  “I take it he knows what he’s doing?”

 

"We've worked with enough vehicles that Psychro pretty much knows how to hot wire them all.  The principles are basically the same though," Psikaris replied.

 

Fantasy wrinkled her nose.  "As long as it smells better than the garbage scow, I'll be happy."

 

"Hey, as long as we're not caught and I don't land back in the lockup, I'll be happy," Kraedon remarked.

 

It was about ten minutes until the revving of an engine announced Psychro's return.  He let out a strange warble, sounding vaguely similar to a native bird.  "That's our cue.  He's got the car.  Now, let's get out of here.  Think you can walk, Knave?" Psikaris asked.

 

"If you can walk, so can I," Knave stubbornly said, pushing himself to his feet.

 

The five of them emerged from hiding and hastily made their way up to the road, where Psychro was waiting in a nicely painted, expensive-looking compact ship.  Kraedon eyed it appreciatively.  “Gotta hand it to you man, you steal in style.”

 

“I call shotgun,” Fantasy purred coyly, and climbed in the seat up front near Psychro.  She settled into the soft leather chair and stretched.  “Ah… much better than that crate,” she remarked with a grin.

 

Kraedon pulled open the back door and waited for Chedra and Psikaris to get in.  He then climbed in with Knave, who quickly shut the door behind him.  As soon as the panel slammed shut, Psychro hit the accelerator and they were off.

 

As they drove through the winding streets Psychro looked over at the beautiful woman who had somehow captured his heart.  Always before he had loved them and then left them.  But this was different somehow.  Better, to be truthful.  He felt like he had died, and been born again.  A smile crossed his face.  "You know, I think I prefer riding with you in the back," he said.

 

Fantasy giggled flirtatiously and gave her lover’s leg a squeeze as he drove.  He was unlike anyone she’d ever met before—fun, exciting, devious, and charming.  He fascinated her, and she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.  She knew it was a flame that might burn her, but too wonderfully hot to just let go without seeing it through.  “We’ll have to arrange our seating that way when we head to the Third Moon then.  That’ll keep us from being bored during that long ride,” she said, her eyes flashing with a mischievous gleam.

 

Knave turned to Kraedon.  "Remind me not to be in the back seat with them," he whispered.

 

Kraedon chuckled.  “For that ride, I say we call shotgun.”

 

Not particularly interested in the details of Psychro and Fantasy’s personal life, Chedra glanced out the window, then looked to Psikaris.  “About how much farther is it to your friend’s place, anyhow?”

 

"Not much further.  We're almost there.  It's about ten minutes from the edge of town and they built the prison fairly close," Psikaris replied.

 

"Are you sure this Traevis will help us?" Knave asked.

 

"Of course I am.  He's always willing to lend a helping hand to friends, just so long as he gets paid," Psikaris replied.

 

“This ship should take care of it.  I’m sure it’s worth a nice sum.  Especially with these leather seats.  This belonged to someone with money,” Kraedon said.

 

A few moments later a large shipyard, with countless ships in varying states of repair, came into view.  Psychro slowed the ship down and landed just outside of what appeared to be the remains of a ship, converted into living quarters.  Fantasy frowned as she watched the viewscreen.  “This is so weird… it’s like déjà vu.  I can swear I’ve been here before, but I just don’t remember it.”

 

"I know how you feel.  Maybe Traevis can explain things," Psychro said.

 

"Did I hear me name?" a man asked from the doorway to the living quarters.

 

"Traevis.  It's us!" Psikaris announced.

 

"Ah, I take yer mission was a success then," Traevis said to Psychro and Fantasy.

 

"What mission?  What are you talking about?" Psychro asked.

 

"Oh, that's right.  Me memory remover," Traevis said, reaching into his pocket for a small gizmo.

 

Fantasy frowned with confusion.  “Memory remover?”

 

Traevis presented a small metallic gadget that looked like a remote controller of some sort.  “Allow me, sweet miss.  This be clearin’ it all up in no time.”  He aimed it at her and pressed a button.  A beam shot out and hit her, stunning her temporarily.  While she regained her bearings, he hit Psychro with the beam as well and watched the pair for their reactions.  “Does it make sense now?”

 

Fantasy blinked a few times as the repressed memories came hurtling back to her awareness.  She remembered going there with Psychro, the two of them fighting the crazy hobo, and Traevis giving them the laser rifles, maps, and the garbage scow.  “Yeah,” she replied.

 

Kraedon was impressed with the demonstration.  “Nice.  Know where I could get myself one of those?”

 

"They're a wee bit illegal, me bucko, but t'ain't too difficult to get yerself one," Traevis replied.

 

"Why don't we go inside and we'll tell you what happened," Knave suggested.

 

"Ah, the one with spunk's got a good idea.  Follow me," Traevis said.

 

The group of seven entered into the small cabin and found seats where they could.  They then proceeded to relate the events that had transpired and their need to get off the moon.  "Ah.  I think I see what yer problem is.  I do, on occasion, do shipments to that there third moon.  I've got one leaving in three hours, if yer interested," Traevis said.

 

“That’s great,” Chedra said.  “I think that’ll do just fine.”

 

“The sooner the better,” Kraedon agreed.

 

“Aye, then there just be the matter of payment, an’ we have ourselves a deal.”  Traevis looked expectantly at Psychro and Psikaris, the two of the crew he was most used to dealing with.

 

"Payment, eh?  Well, we can supply you with that new car out there.  I guess we could even work as crew for whatever ship you've got coming in," Psychro said.

 

"You know us as well as anyone.  We're the best mechanics in the business," Psikaris said, "we could more than earn our way."

 

"Then we've got us a deal.  Yer welcome to sit around here for the next few hours, or I can show you to your new jobs," Traevis said.

 

Fantasy groaned inwardly.  Work was never her favorite thing to do, but she didn’t really have a choice this time.  “You might as well show us what to do, so we can get started.”  And get it over with, she added silently.

 

“All right then.  Follow me,” Traevis instructed them.  He showed Psychro and Psikaris to the ship they’d be doing mechanical maintenance on.  Once they were situated, he asked the others if they knew any technical skills.  Since none of them did, he had them do various chores.  Knave and Chedra were elected to load cargo.  Kraedon was given a similar job after a brief break bandaging and treating his arm with one of Traevis’ first aid kits.  Not one for manual labor, Fantasy managed to talk her way into doing the less physical, but very tedious job of going over the shipment inventory and making sure it was all correct.

 

With them all hard at work, the three hours passed relatively quickly.   Almost before they knew it, they were assembled by the ship waiting to take them to the Third Moon and saying goodbye to Traevis.  “Thanks again for helping us,” Chedra said to him.

 

"No problem.  If'n yer ever in need of me services, don't hesitate to call," Traevis said, waving.  As they turned to enter the ship Traevis stopped them.  "Oh, Kraedon, I found something I thought ye might like.  A farewell gift, as it were."  He tossed the man a Memory Remover and smiled.

 

Kraedon caught the device and grinned when he saw it was.  “I can see why Psychro comes to you.”  He put the memory remover in his pocket and shook Traevis’ hand.  “Thanks.  If I can return the favor someday, let me know,” he said earnestly.

 

"We'll never forget this," Psikaris said, "we'll never forget anything that happened this day."

 

“Never,” Chedra echoed, looking off into the distance with a haunted expression as she reflected upon it.  What had happened in that compound was something that would stay with her for the rest of her days.

 

Fantasy smiled at Psychro, a different sort of memory and feeling in her mind, but no less strong.  “Definitely not,” she agreed.

 

Psychro draped one arm around Fantasy's shoulders as they walked up the flight of stairs into the ship.  When the last person had entered, the ship lifted off.  As they looked out the window and watched the moon faded beneath them they realized that their lives had been changed irrevocably forever.

 

 

The End

 

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