11-Reunion

The Bat chugged its way across the void separating Sogan and a gas giant, Emanon. This world was an unexpected clash between the lavish, expensive life of tourism and resorts and the harsh, greasy mining industry inhabiting the many orbiting bodies in this planetary system. The Bat's engines were still not operating at full speed--there were no tools to make that kind of repair on Sogan.

The Bat got clearance from an Emanon station to land. There was still the possibility that some local parts dealer here could help them out. When Irridan lowered the gangway, she was surprised to meet Iruoko waiting for them! After a joyous reunion, Bret immediately launched into the story about his dream, the Warden and the black planet.

"Whoa, wait up a second," Iruoko said. "Let's get aboard the Bat and talk about it."
In the dining cabin, Iruoko revealed to her puzzled friends how she had come to be on this planet.

"It turns out that one of the newest members of the ITA, Captain Sneef, was in the sector. I sent him a comms and he gave me a lift over here."

"So the ITA has its uses after all," Bret quipped.

Ten minutes later, Irridan finished telling about the race and Bret finished telling about the dreams. Iruoko sat silently, chewing on her lip as she thought this over. "I've checked with all the dealers I can find," she said, "but I think we're stuck at Medium for the duration. Things don't look good for us."

The Bat soon lifted off and headed back on track to the next checkpoint...

The Bat was quiet for the time that it took to travel to Outpost 1138. Hopefully the tradelanes would give them a speed advantage even though this station was out of the way.

Bret had suggested, then pushed, for Iruoko to use the Bat to try and find the Dark Planet. He was becoming a man possessed with a purpose. For the time that Iruoko knew him, Bret was a drifter with no cause or goal or purpose in his life. Now that he thought he had one, he took to it with a passion and will that seemed almost unmatched. And here is where the conflict rose: Iruoko was in this race not to win some cash prize; she was in this race to gain the resources that she thought she needed to restore her precious ITA, which, in turn, was her answer to making the galaxy a better place. That was her purpose that she had given herself in life. And now, Bret's new found crusade threatened her own. She was not going to have that happen.

Irridan kept to herself; though she felt unexpectedly happy at having her "family" back together again, she also felt the tension in the air between Bret and Iruoko; and, she still felt some internal tension, perhaps guilt, about shooting Bret.

Iruoko knew that the Bat had fallen behind, and with everything that had happened, she was feeling her own stress about what to do to yet still win this race. After all that they had been through, Iruoko was not going to go down without a serious fight. One thing she liked was the shield modifications that Irridan had made--if worse came to worst, the Bat would have enough shield strength to ram another ship and perhaps make an escape. It would add another defense to the Bat -- a last ditch defense to be sure, but still a clever trick to have up the sleeve.

Bret became disgruntled and moody as he saw his eager dreams going nowhere. He understood Iruoko's goal, but it would be useless if the Dark Planet was not found and the Devourers broke free into the galaxy. So many things now were pointless with the possible apocalypse hanging in the air. He began to understand that he might have to find his own ship. The Bat was a good ship, but there were two things against it: one, it was a fast trade vessel not designed or meant for space exploration; and two, it was Iruoko's ship, and it went where Iruoko went. She did not want to look for the Dark Planet. She only wanted to save her ITA.

Iruoko checked Bret and Irridan's repairs over as the Bat sailed on toward Outpost 1138. They were good repairs, so Iruoko spent most of her time just tinkering in frustration. And so the time went as the Bat glided through the vast starry, cold silence.

10-Refuge

Julanar waited patiently for Border Control to give them the go-ahead. Finally, a voice came over the speaker, "Attention ship Grey'nar. This is Admiral Poleski of the Office of Sector Affairs. Prepare to be boarded by an inspection team and submit to full ship scans. We're full to the gills with ships coming in for the race, so don't give us reason to deny you entry." Admiral Poleski paused for a second, then came back on. "I understand that you're seeking assylum, at least for the time being?"

"That's right," Julanar replied. "We're fleeing the war in Granth."

"Hmmm. Alright. Prepare for inspection."

Two Hrunting Gunboats were dispatched to inspect the Grey'nar. One docked while the other stood watch over the potential threat. For the greater part of a local day, the inspection team rummaged through the Grey'nar's holds, compartments, and even some very personal belongings. Julanar grew angry with this, but apparently, the search team didn't know what they were looking at. Julanar had to keep his family calm and act as translator for the whole process.

The cargo gave Julanar the worst problem. Apparently, live cargo was highly restricted in Helix. It could only be carried in government-certified containers, it had to have a certificate of inspection, and certain organisms were banned entirely. Julanar was forced to surrender two crates of Muzzfins under partial compensation, but the kracku were passed on the condition that they be inspected and re-packaged at Tradepost Delta.

Finally, the teams withdrew and the Grey'nar was given access to Tradepost Delta. There, Immigration Control would grant the whole family assylum status, which could eventually be upgraded to citizenship status, if they so chose. Admiral Poleski came on again, "I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Julanar. I hope we can be more hospitable when you arrive in-sector. I would be pleased to host you and your family for dinner tomorrow aboard Tradepost Delta. It should make time go by more quickly while you wait for Immigration to process your papers."

Afraid of insulting this unfamiliar person, Julanar replied, "It would be delightful, Mr. Admiral Poleski. I would be pleased to join you with my family."

Poleski, thrown off by Julanar's odd syntax, said, "Um, yes. Oh, and I don't mean to be rude, but we in the Fleet have very little knowledge of the Feeraass race. I would be in your debt if you could transmit some information about yourselves. And I'm sure our chefs could serve you better if you could inform us of your dining habits."

"Thank-you Mr. Admiral Poleski. I will happily send you my information." And so the Grey'nar glided into Helix...

--------

Julanar, after having made sure that his personal belongings were better stashed between the bulkheads from curious eyes or inspection teams, spent the time before arriving at Tradepost Delta drilling his family in inter-racial etiquette. "Humans are delicate, and do not enjoy rough housing. Keep your claws and tails to yourself, all of you. There are other aliens in Helix sector, but there will mostly be a lot of humans. We will not see any other Feeraas, so try to be on your best behavior. You are ambassadors for both our species and for the House of Jarahk."

At the mention of his house, the three Ahk'la'kashai saluted. Being drifters from lower classes with no name or house, he adopted them into his house. They now served him as loyal sons and would some day be granted full membership into his house.

His middle son growled out a respectful "When do we make repairs, father?"

Julanar came to stand before him, "You want to return to return to Granth and seek revenge on those who forced us to flee? Is that it?"

He swished his tail sharply. Julanar growled and stepped back to address his entire family assembled with him in the converted science bay that served now as the exercise room. "I will hear no more of this talk of seeking revenge or of going back to Granth. Anyone foolish to do so would be killed instantly. The other races of the Star Republic have either imprisoned or killed any Feeraas who were unable to return to Feeraas space. Why do you think there were so many ships fleeing TO Feeraas as we were fleeing from it? Any members of those races still caught on Feeraas very likely suffered the same fate. We are hated on our own world because Jaral'anar despises sharing power, and we are hated by the other powers of the Granth sector. We must, for a time, seek refuge in other parts of the galaxy. And, of all of the sectors to choose from, Helix is the most politically stable. Make yourselves comfortable, my family, for we have no where else to go."

With that, no one else had much to say. His two wives understood the situation perfectly, and followed his decisions in all matters. His three daughters were of a mature age but followed their father. His five sons, though, might cause trouble and he would have to keep an eye on them. They too were maturing and struggling with raging horomones. Two of them had been in military service when he pulled them out and fled from Feeraas. All five chaffed at the cowardly retreat though they understood the wisdom of not foolishly facing a greater enemy. Julanar was just unsure which side of his sons would win out: the wisdom or the horomones.

The Grey'nar cruised into Delta station and docked effortlessly. Despite the damage suffered from the Republic fighters in high orbit of Feeraas (thankfully there was far too much chaos at that time for anything more than those few fighters to pay attention to their little ship), the Grey'nar was still in excellent shape.

Julanar sent a message to the Mr. Admiral Poleski that he would enjoy dining with him tomorrow night. He sent along with that message info on the dietary habits of Feeraas. Out of consideration for human etiquette, he stated that there was no need for the food served him and his family to still be living. Freshly killed and raw would more than suffice. Also, there would be no need for spices or sanitization, Julanar assured Mr. Admiral Poleski in his message that the Feeraas digestive system could digest anything, including bone.

As for information on the Feeraas, well, Julanar preferred to keep that to himself for the moment. He would happily divulge what he could at dinner in the form of what humans called dinner conversation. Julanar reminded his daughters to keep their tails to themselves, and his sons to keep their claws to themselves.

As the ship finished docking, Julanar's two wives, who were ship techs on the homeworld, left the bridge and proceeded to start work on repairs around the ship. Julanar's three daughters, who had been learning some skills in ship repairs though their professions were as medics, were dispatched to the station to try and coordinate repairs with station repair teams. Julanar went with them to translate. The three Ahk'la'kashai set about also assisting the two wives with whatever they could help with.

The two eldest sons of Julanar, both now being ex-military, quietly ushered their younger three brothers to the aft sections of the ship. Not knowing what was intended, they followed warily. All they knew was that they were being let in on a secret. The five quietly worked their way into one of the aft systems access crawl tubes that led into the starboard wing of the Grey'nar. A short way into the tube, the eldest opened a small viewport that looked out under the wing. And there, just visible from the corner of the small viewport, magnetically attached to the underside of the wing and looking much like some sort of hub of sensor equipment, was a Feeraas starfighter. Grins crept across all of their faces showing big white fangs. "Father may not want to spend his resources fixing the weapons on this ship, but we will have to."

The next eldest brother took over, "When we get the ship and return to Granth, we will need all of this ship's weapons working. And we will need to all work together."

"Father will not let us take his ship back!"

"What can father stop when he is left here in the Helix sector with our sisters and mothers? We will return, the sons of Jarahk, and we will have our revenge."

"How?"

"With these fighters! And this ship!"

"Fighters? There is only one."

"We have two, the other is just like this under the port wing."

"But that is not all, brothers. We will need to wait until the cloaking device and the rest of the ship's weapons are repaired."

"Father is not going to have the guns and the cloaking device repaired."

"Idiot, so we will have to learn how to do it from our mothers without their knowing. And then we will repair those systems and then we will steal the ship. When we get back to Granth, we will cloak and make our way past the front lines to Feeraas, and then we will strike at Jaral'anar in his sleep and declare our house as the ruling house of Feeraas."

And with that there was much tail swishing and pleased growling in the cramped systems access repair tube.

9-Understanding

Irridan, in an alien sort of way, was smugly proud of her slingshot maneuver. The other racers had been too dependent soley on technology, and they forgot the benefits of using laws of nature. With this extra momentum, the Bat's speed was back up to High speed. At least until docking with a tradelane or landing on PX-433. Then Irridan would have to contend with the Bat's diminished engine output again. At least tradelanes were faster than Medium.
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Bret felt a white-hot spray rush over his body, then cold, then nothing but blackness and silence.

The black shroud lifted. Bret was standing in a huge room--so huge, he couldn't see the walls or ceiling. Lights embedded in the stone floor illuminated a path. Bret followed the path. He walked for miles and miles. It was an endless journey, forever going onward. Then, there was something in the path ahead. Bret walked closer and saw what it was. Or rather, who it was. The man was standing there with his arms folded. The stoic expression on his face revealed nothing to Bret.

Then, for the first time in Bret's memory, he spoke, "I have been waiting for you." The deep, smooth voice assuaged Bret's first instinct to run. "Who..." Bret started to say.

"Who am I?" the man finished. "I am the Warden." The cryptic remark did little for Bret's curiosity.

"Why have you been showing me these...these things?" Bret demanded.

"There are many things you humans do not know. Some, you must never know. Others, you must soon know. I am here to show you what humans must soon know, and must heed, ere they face their destruction. Come. There is much to show you..." The Warden turned and walked down the path.

At length, the two came to a small stone structure. It had no joints or seams; it seemed to be carved out of the ground. Which was strange, because there had been no other sign of irregularity in the vast, smooth ocean of stone. Bret knew it was an accessway because it had a door. Everything seemed to be made of the same dark stone. The Warden stood before the door, and without any warning, the door swung open. "How did you do that?" Bret asked in amazement.

"I am the Warden, and I have been given power over this place," was the only answer.

A stairway descended out of sight into the depths below. An ominous red light ubiquitously illuminated everything, even though there was no light source. The two descended the stairway; the stair seemed almost as long as the path aboveground. At length, they came to a door, only it was different from everything else--it wasn't made of stone, it was made of metal. Bret turned the handle, pulled it open, and stepped inside.

This was the white room! There at the far end of the room was the door! Bret felt a sense of dread wash over him; he kept expecting that claw to punch through the metal and sieze him. "Do not fear," the Warden said, "the vision I have shown you has not yet come to pass. The creatures are yet locked within. However, this room is the furthest extent of my authority. Beyond this place, the creatures have complete domination over this world. My task was to lay down an impenetrable shield to imprison these vile beings for all eternity. For eons I have struggled against these things. I have never yet lost my battles, but my strength wanes. I cannot imprison these creatures forever, and eventually they will break free, to roam the galaxy and devour all life at will."

A great silence followed. Once, Bret thought he heard the sound of claws in the distant places beyond the door, but he was never sure. Then the Warden quietly said, "There is yet time. The creatures grow in strength every day, and I weaken from my battles, but they are yet vulnerable to attack, even in their own stronghold. I know naught but that of this world; I cannot help you find this place. Bret Durance, find me and the Black World...we must stop the Devourers!"
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Irridan suddenly jerked her head up. The medical alarms were going nuts! She leaped out of the maintainance well in one motion and sprinted for the medical bay. When she got there, Bret was writhing on his bed in sickening contortions. The monitors showed that Bret's body was trying to come out of sedation, but it was destroying itself in the process. Irridan ripped out the sedative IV and grabbed another hypodermic. In five seconds Bret was limp as a rag doll. His heart slowed and his breathing normallized. Irridan had been afraid of this--the sedative she had used mimics the effects of suspended animation, only for a much shorter period of time and with less effect. The problem with it was that some humans' bodies react violently to being in such a state, trying to "wake up." The hypo she had given Bret was a fast-acting agent that broke up the sedative molecules and brought Bret out of his induced coma. Bret looked up at Irridan with huge, terrified eyes and said, "Irridan! We have to warn someone!"
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Bret and Irridan sat across from each other in the crew lounge aboard the Bat. Irridan sat with her legs pulled up to her chest with her head resting on her knees and her arms wrapped around her ankles. Bret leaned forward in his seat and jittered excitedly, "Irridan, I can't tell you what this means to me. It's like a flood has come bursting out of me. All my life I've been a drifter, a wanderer with nothing to say for myself, searching for, I don't know what. But now, I feel like I have a purpose. Something to live for!"

Irridan did not know what to make of this. She felt guilty for having shot him, although her intentions were to keep him safe until she could get him to proper medical or psychiatric help. She also felt that maybe the drugs had done something to him. She also felt that his dreams and the drugs had changed him mentally for the worse. She was a little scared now of Bret. His demeanor now was unlike anything he had been like before. She remained quiet.

"I was scared to death of this guy, the Warden, but I think he was just trying to instill in me a sense of seriousness about the situation. Plus, I think there was just a pervading sense of fear in the air from those creatures, the Devourers. They are pure evil, Irridan, I can sense that. And plus, this Warden has got to be some sort of alien, so maybe he wasn't contacting me just right, you know?"

"Bret, Namorrian legend holds that there are many ancient evils in this galaxy. They are from the time of the ancients. Some are leftovers of that time, some are the ancients themselves. There were many wars then between the forces of good and evil on a scale we cannot imagine. It sounds to me like these Devourers may be something like that. They were definitely imprisoned to keep the galaxy safe."

"Yah, that's it! So you know that we have to do something. We have to find this black planet and stop these things before it's too late!"

"Bret, they are legends. They do not exist."

"Oh yah, what about the, the, Dura Magi we heard about in the Cruan'atan sector?"

"The Dura'nagai. They are probably not, I will give you that. They are known to the Namorrians as the Hala'kai'esh, or the Servants of Darkness. They exist in several sectors and are indeed an ancient race that embody everything we have come to know as evil. But Bret, these Devourers, I have never heard of them in legend."

"Maybe they just didn't make it out to your part of the galaxy the last time they were out and causing trouble. Does it matter? You said that there were several. I don't recall having seen any history books detailing the list of who's who in the galaxy since the creation of the universe."

"Very well, Bret. So what do you plan on doing?"

"I'll need to talk to Iruoko about this, the Bat'll have to drop from the race and get clearance from Helix to wander around and all that."

"Bret, the Bat is Iruoko's ship. One, it is not equipped for exploration or for combat. Two, Iruoko is here to win the prize money if possible to get the Intergalactic Trader's Alliance up and running stronger. The Granth sector has fallen into civil war and the ITA, still located on Cra, does not have the resources to relocate to another world. Short of stopping the civil war, this is our only option to save the ITA."

"The war has not reached Cra. The war is still being fought in only a few sub sectors of the Granth sector, and it probably won't be long until the Feeraas lose against the rest of the Republic."

"Bret, they cannot lose the war. If anyone loses then there will be genocide. The five races of the Republic have hated and slaughtered each other for centuries. This war is the perfect excuse to resume that slaughter. And you know as well as anyone that the loser will be annihilated completely from existence. Iruoko is trying to save the ITA in hopes to prevent death and destruction on a scale not seen in this galaxy for two millenia."

"I'm not just going to sit here in this race when we need to act now."

"I will stand with Iruoko."

"Then where does that leave me?"

"That is for you to decide, Bret. We will arrive at Emanon soon. You can decide what you will do then."
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Iruoko checked the public displays of the race; the Bat was still on the space lanes and closing on Emanon. She was near exhausted; she had spent her time on the station tracking down mechanics and parts dealers who might help her out. She came up with zilch. This system was near starved for technology and parts, and mechanics were just not available. Also, the Bat was too foreign a model. This meant that the Bat was doomed to no better speeds than medium quality while in the Helix sector.

So, Iruoko spent her time familiarizing herself with the race, making sure that she could run this blindfolded if necessary. She was also worried about Bret and Irridan. Her friends were terrific, but they had apparently been put through their paces in this race. She sent a message to the Bat, hoping that they got it, that she was on Emanon. It looked like Irridan had chosen to stay the course to Emanon anyhow.

As it should also happen, when she was looking at ships registered in the sector, she caught a glimpse of a Feeraas ship that just entered the sector a day ago. It was the Grey'nar under the command of Julanar. She laughed, her pal in the Star Republic really was coming here. She guessed that Julanar did not have many friends on Feeraas if he fled to Helix. This worried her though; it seemed like he might be here specifically to ask for her help. She owed it to him since he was a phenomenal help in establishing the ITA in the Granth sector. But right now, she did not have much to offer. She really hoped that he found the help he needed elsewhere.

8-Mistake

The Bat streaked off of Sogan, heading for the next checkpoint. Bret was sleeping peacefully, for the moment, anyway. After two days, however...

"Attention, ship Bat-Outtta-Hell, this is the Helix Space Race Authority. You have failed to check in at the last checkpoint. Please report to ssA-1 before continuing to the next checkpoint.

"What?" Iruoko thought... Oh, NO! In her haste to set things straight, Iruoko had completely forgotten about hitting the checkpoint on the OTHER side of the planet! Of all the...Well, there was only one thing to do.

Irridan practically fumed all the way to Sogan. Bret had been so mixed up with his dreams, and she was so mixed up plotting what to do about it, that she and Bret had forgotten all about the checkpoint. The Bat, as if somehow sensing the urgency, poured speed and roared into Sogan's atmosphere. Irridan contacted the checkpoint, "This is the racer Bat outta Hell, calling the Helix sector checkpoint, come in please."

"Hey, Bat outta Hell, you forget something?"

"What is the procedure for this checkpoint?"

"Same as all the others, mandatory wait period. Ya know the drill."

Iruoko began to transmit the Bat's docking information. Then the race official came back on, "Hey, hey, hey. what is this here? You got a sick man onboard?"

"It is alright. It is nothing contagious. He is suffering from stress exhaustion and is simply sedated. There is no problem other than that."

"I don't know, Bat. We need to check him out medically. He might have something, ya know."

"He was suffering from stress, and is unconcious from being shot with a low power pistol so as to stun him, and is now medically sedated."

"How the fleeb do you know all that?"

"I am the one who shot him."

A short pause. "Oh. Okay. Well...looks like everything is in order, good luck tryin' ta catch up, Bat." And the race official laughed as he clicked off the intercom.

Blast if this wasn't the most inconvenient time-wasting trial that she had to go through. Irridan set the Bat down for the wait period.

Twenty hours later, Irridan pumped energy to the engines and the Bat roared out of the atmosphere. She dipped the Bat into low orbit to gain the freefall momentum to slingshot the Bat around Sogan and rocket off into space. As Sogan began to fall away, Irridan checked the map. The rest of the ships had taken the space lanes and were gaining time there. But she wondered if taking the direct route would save some time. It was dangerous, she knew that, but maybe she could cut enough time off to put the Bat into the leading position again. It just might work. Irridan left the Bat to follow the space line for now as she headed to start work on the Bat's shield generators.