Part 5

"Doyaal!"
       Beauday's yell echoed along the cruiser's corridors. There was no answer.

Worried as he was, Beauday had managed to snatch a reasonable amount of sleep while they were shadowing the cruiser, waiting for Doyaal's signal - practical as ever, the heavy had told himself he'd be of no use to his partner if he was half asleep when the time came to mount the rescue. So when the signal came he was awake, alert, armed, and grimly determined...
       The Faliir had fired a couple of warning shots past the cruiser as the special services craft dropped into normal space. For a while it had looked as though the cruiser's captain would retaliate, but on recognising what his opponent actually was he had - wisely - opted to allow the vessel to be boarded. ILEA special services were rumoured to be above the law. Answerable only to Koorlee, they certainly acted that way.
       Beauday had been right behind Kranoch as the squad spilled into the larger ship's docking bay, and had watched with grudging admiration as the Faliir had directed the beings under his command. Within moments and with the minimum of discussion the squad dispersed to search the ship. The Faliir turned to the 'taur.
       "Come with me."
       Together they hastened to the control room.

The captain was at his post, guarded by one of Kranoch's security team. Tight-lipped, sullen, he refused to meet anyone's eyes. Kranoch grabbed his jaw in one large, rough-scaled hand and forced his attention.
       "Bedemnos."
       The captain glared back, unspeaking. Kranoch tightened his grip.
       "Bedemnos."
       Paling, feeling his jawbone creaking under the pressure of the Faliir's grasp, still the captain stayed silent.
       Kranoch shook his head mock-sadly and closed his fist. The captain's jaw shattered into a bleeding mass of splintered bone: he collapsed to the floor, trying to scream through the ruin of his mouth. The navigator, an oversized pirenan, involuntarily moved as though to go to his aid - Kranoch saw and beckoned to her. Trembling, she inched forwards and stood before him. With a thin-lipped smile, he grasped her jaw.
       "Bedemnos."
       Made of lesser stuff than her captain, the pirenan had no hesitation in answering.
       "H.... he went down to the emergency shuttle bay..."
       The Faliir nodded.
       "The Jaling?"
       "Don't know..." Kranoch tightened his grip fractionally, threatening the fragile bones. She whimpered.
       "Might... might be in the play room..."
       Beauday shuddered. That was what Bedemnos called his torture chamber. The heavy remembered it well - and how to get there. He turned to Kranoch.
       "I know where it is. I'll go."
       Without taking his eyes from the pirenan's terrified face, the Faliir nodded. The heavy swivelled and took off at a fast trot.

Two levels up from the chamber he met a couple of Kranoch's m'taurs, alerted by their commander and heading for the emergency shuttle bay: coming the other way a handful of humans were ushering some of Bedemnos's other captives to safety. Beauday scanned the frightened slaves-to-be, but there were no 'taurs or Jalingi. As he passed them he thought he heard noises from ahead - rending metal, it sounded like. He pressed his ear to the side wall for a moment to listen, feeling the vibrations, then raced onwards. He was sure they'd come from the general area of the slaver's 'play room'...
       Moments later he skidded to a halt outside the hated chamber and peered in cautiously. Empty. A quick inspection of the buckled door showed Doyaal's hoofmarks smashed into the metal. Beauday sighed.
       "You can never bloody wait, can you?" he grumbled, the tight knot of anxiety that had been slowly coiling, disregarded, in his guts unravelling fast, leaving him almost limp with relief. If Doyaal had been able to do this, he couldn't be too badly hurt.
       He glanced up and down the corridor. Which way..? Then he spotted it - a trail of slightly darker spots of red against the rough red magnetised flooring. Blood. Fresh blood. Heading away from the control room and down into the underbelly of the cruiser. He set off down the corridor, following the trail, face set and maser drawn.

Okula set a punishing pace, hurrying the 'taur as fast as he could. It was several minutes later that Doyaal staggered to a halt, panting and shaking his head, dragging his reeling senses back to the here and now.
       "'ang about. Where are we?"
       The Aethan had simply been intent on getting as far from the chamber, and the m'taurs, and as quickly, as he could. Now he looked around and bit his lip.
       "Umm... I don't know."
       Doyaal rubbed a hand across tired, aching eyes and tried to think clearly. The corridors weren't numbered or marked in any way, and he hadn't been sufficiently alert to take notice of their direction - but this part of the ship had a deserted, unused feel about it. And if nothing else, he knew the control room was up, not down, which was where they were heading. He frowned at the Jaling.
       "We're goin' the wrong way."
       "Indeed you are."

Doyaal whirled, rearing. Bedemnos stood behind them, leering, his bulk nearly filling the corridor. The 'taur pushed Okula behind him, nudging him backwards with a hind hoof. They retreated, slowly, as the slaver advanced upon them...

Beauday had reached a junction where the flooring changed from red to black, and the trail of blood was no longer visible. He paused, nostrils flaring, trying to pick up the scent of his partner. Nothing.... Wait a moment.... He frowned, then shivered, catching a scent he'd hoped never to smell again. Bedemnos.
       He set off, more warily now, in the direction of the slaver's distinctive odour...

Bedemnos knew the layout of his own ship. Okula and the 'taur did not. So it came as no great surprise, to Doyaal anyway, to find themselves backed into a dead end.
       The slaver smiled, slowly, cruelly.
       "Well, well. It appears I will have a last chance to taste you, little slave."
       Doyaal shook his head.
       "Your ship's been boarded - bein' searched right now. You waste time with us, you'll never get away."
       The slaver chuckled.
       "Oh, it'll be hours before they find their way down here. I'll be long gone. They'll assume I've headed for the emergency shuttle."
       "And you're not?" Come on, Beauday. Where are you?
       "No. You see, through there," he gestured to the right, "is my 'insurance'. For just such an occasion as this."
       "What's that?" Just keep him talking, thought Doyaal desperately. The longer the better. There was still a remote chance they'd be found. He hoped so. In a straight fight, he stood no chance against Bedemnos. And if he couldn't hold the slaver at bay...
       "Single person shuttle. Power and provisions enough to get me to the nearest civilised world. But we're wasting time." He licked his lips. "I can't take you with me. But I will take you, and break you, before I leave." He glanced at Okula, who was staring up at him in horror.
       "Pity to waste you, small thing. But my time is limited, and I prefer 'taurs."
       Doyaal reared as the slaver lunged forward, managing to deliver just one good kick before Bedemnos slithered across his back, twisted him around and held him firm around the waist. His arms trapped, teeth clenched, Doyaal tried desperately to buck the slaver off as he rubbed himself against the golden pelt - but his weight was crushing, and the hunter was at the end of his strength.
       He felt Bedemnos finally slide himself into position and pause, just touching, poised for entry and growling in anticipation... Doyaal closed his eyes in despair.

So he didn't see Okula's mouth drop open, his eyes fixed on the entryway behind the slaver and his victim...

For all his size, when the occasion demanded Beauday could move fast. Rearing, he slammed both front hooves sideways into the Ostlacchin's body, at the same time gripping his upper arms and yanking back with all his strength. The slaver screamed as the joints snapped and dislocated: the 'taur used his own weight to drag Bedemnos from his partner's back and to the floor. Powerful rage-driven hands gripped the slaver's head, and with one foreleg braced against the Ostlacchin's torso, Beauday wrenched backwards. There was a loud crunch as Bedemnos's vertebrae shattered, then Beauday twisted, hard, audibly snapping the slaver's spine.
       In the sudden silence Okula stared at the body, then up at the expression of calm, implacable hatred on Beauday's face as he gazed down at what was left of Bedemnos. The Aethan glanced at Doyaal, leaning against the wall, pale and shaking, and inclined his head towards the heavy.
       "Remind me never to annoy him..."
       As Doyaal slumped to his knees, Beauday scrambled upright and moved quickly to his partner, hauling him up into his arms: the hunter returned the hug weakly, sagging against the heavy's solid body. Beauday held him close, stroking his mane, content for the moment just to have him alive.
       "You OK?"
       Doyaal gave the barest of nods. Trembling with weakness and relief, barely able to stand, in pain... but, he realised, he was OK.
       "Yeah..."
       "He didn't..?"
       "You got here just in time."
       Beauday moved slightly away to inspect his partner, biting back a curse as he saw the damage.
       "Let's get you to the medical unit."
       Exhausted, Doyaal nodded, leaning heavily against Beauday as his partner wrapped an arm around him. Okula tapped Beauday's flank, catching his attention, and the 'taur looked down.
       "Anything I can do to help?"
       The heavy scowled.
       "I think you've done quite enough already..."
       Doyaal laid a shaking hand on his partner's shoulder.
       "Leave it, mate. He helped me. Couldn't have got away without him."
       Beauday looked dubious, but didn't argue. Nor did he object when the Aethan positioned himself at Doyaal's other side, lending his slight weight to help support the hunter as, together, they headed slowly back to safety.