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Chapter Thirteen- cont'd



Phoebe grasped frantically at the bars of her cage as the entire Shellion freighter rocked wildly. Zanzibar, across from her, seemed to be having no trouble keeping his balance. She envied him, briefly.

The freighter settled down, and she relaxed. Zanzibar looked half asleep, and although his striking eyes were mere slits, she knew he was very alert. But not enough. . .

They were caught unaware as a sickeningly sweet scented gas began filling the room. Zanzibar was the first to realize what was happening; with a strangled yowl he flattened himself on the floor, with one paw over his mouth and nose and the other pulling a dizzy, drowsy Phoebe down. The last she saw before she spiralled down into darkness was Zanzibar's dark form on the ground, lying very, very still. . .



"Silken Swift to Assassin, do you read, over," Alpha called. There occured a mad dash for the com. Copper won.

"Roger, this is Assassin to Silken Swift, I read you. Over."

"Copper! Uh. . . 'kay. Can you get into the Conquerer? Over."

"Roger. We did it once, can do again. Over."

"Good. How close are you? Over."

"As close as we can get without collision, Swift. Why? Over."

"Um, hang on a sec. . ."

"Will do. Heh, you forgot the "over." Over."

"Ha ha. Very funny. There it is. . . 'kay. There's a large waste chute for scrap metal, etc. in the back. At 1300 hours there's a real heavy flow, and it dwindles to nothing at around 1340 hours. Then there's another at 5:00. If you can get in at, say, 1240 hours, just before the 1:00 flow, you should be able to escape with the 1700 dump if there's any problems. Over."

"Roger, Swift. Will do. Where to after that?" Copper was amused at Alpha's conversion between the 24 hour clock and the 12 one.

"Uh. I think. . . oh yeah, you'll find yourself at a crossroad. Take the one to the left, and if you're a bit late you'll have to wind your way through a bunch of wrecked cages. At exactly 1300- oh, blast, 1:00, the slave freighter leaves, so you might want to be a bit late. If it hasn't left, hover in the tunnel until it does. Then get in there and set down. There's a group of guards who are goin' down the middle corridor- they have the slaves. Follow them, free the slaves if you want, I wouldn't, or keep trailin' them until they get to a holding room. Actually, it's a prison. Mingle in with the slaves and stay there until you land, then get outa there as fast as you can! Get back to your ship and leave the Destroyer, and watch for the slaves' departure for the mines. Follow them, and radio me to tell me when. Leave the rest to me, just get the slaves, old and new, out of the mines. Don't be surprised if you see an explosion, heheh. Got it? Oops, almost forgot. . . Over."

"Roger. Over and out."



Devan Shell peeked around the corner, in at his "Boss". Kroys was sitting with his back to him, gazing out at the stars. He gave no indication that he knew Devan was there, except for his voice. . .

"Shell."

Devan slunk out.

"Yeah, sir, I mean, Milord?"

"How many?" Devan scratched his head, baffled.

"Huh?"

"H o w m a n y s l a v e s d i d y o u b r i n g m e ?" Kroys sarcastically drew the words out agonizingly slow.

"Uh, forty five, I think," the dimwitted Shellion said. Kroys turned his gaze to the ceiling.

"Devan. Shell."

"Y-yes, sir? Er, Milord?"

"Do. You. Seriously. Think. That. Forty. Five. Slaves. Is. Going. To. Make. A. Blasted. Hill. Of. Beans. Difference?!? How is forty-five squirrels, cats and the occasional rabbit going to replace the five hundred odd slaves that escaped with the mercenary?"

"Uh. . ."

"They aren't, that's what!" Kroys was seething.

"Er, um, uh, I-I- oops." Kroys turned, slowly, towards the door.

"Commander Flairang. Take this pitiful excuse for a worm to the warp that I have erected and send him through to Carrotus. Dismissed."

The intelligent Commander was a large (for a lizard) black lizard, the very one who had given Claw the tipoff without realizing it. The Commander obediently prodded the hapless Shellion out the door, and pushed him roughly through the warp.



Alpha got out of the sleek, small Swift and headed for where the slaves were. She planned to get to one of the control rooms, where she would then press the self-destruct. If it had one.

As she was heading down the corridor in the shadows, she saw a flicker of black. Could it be. . .? She shook her head. Her eyes were playing tricks on her.



Zanzibar was the first to awaken. Having fought the gasses as long as he could, both mentally and physically, he was exhausted.

He winced. A long, jagged slash ran the length of his leg, where he had been dragged out of the bashed in door of the cage. It had stopped bleeding by now, but it still hurt. Wearily he closed his eyes and slid back under the merciful darkness. . .