Thank you for your cooperation

In the briefing room, the crew gathered around a holographic map of the TOI-1801 system. Captain Valerius outlined their plan.

"We'll use our cloaking system to approach the K'hara undetected," he said. "Katzen marines will board the colony ship along with Thomas, M'Sara, and D'Ressa to support and handle the opening of the docking hatch, security and any technical issues."

Lieutenant R'Kala D'Rei, the navigator, added, "We'll position ourselves on the far side of TOI-1801's star in the inner asteroid field to avoid detection until we're ready to strike. We will sync with the corvettes for scanner data."

The boarding klaxon echoed through the Hegh'ta, a low thrum that vibrated in Thomas's chest. He was tightening the last connection on a diagnostic port in Engineering when a clipped voice crackled over the comms. "Hegh'ta, this is Squad Gamma-Nine. Requesting docking permission. We're here to assist with the boarding operation."

M'Sara, already running diagnostics on the shield systems, glanced up, her ears twitching. "Katzen marines. About time." She didn't particularly look forward to working with marines – they were all rigid discipline and tactical assessments – but she appreciated the extra firepower.

A few minutes later, the docking clamps engaged with a low hum, signaling the arrival of the Katzen marine squad. The airlock hissed open, revealing eight figures clad in sleek, dark grey combat armor. They moved with the fluid grace characteristic of their species, yet their purposeful strides indicated they were anything but at ease.

The marines moved with the silent efficiency of predators, their digitigrade strides soundless on the metal deck despite the bulk of their combat armor. The sleek, form-fitting suits clung to their feline frames, designed to accommodate their physiology—oval padded slots at the hips for tails, reinforced joints over their fingers, holes for their claws, and open-toed boots that left the bottom their padded, clawed toes exposed with slots for their claws. Each marine carried a compact plasma carbine slung across their backs, the weapons gleaming faintly in the ship's ambient light.

The squad was a study in contrasts. A towering Togartz female brought up the rear, her black-and-orange stripes stark against the armor's matte finish, her ears flat in focused intensity. A pair of Löwe Katzen flanked the leader— one golden-brown with a tufted tail, the other a pale gold, almost white, whose fur bristled subtly at the edges, betraying alertness. A Lehpparr female, smaller and leaner, moved with hyper-aware stillness, her dark orange coat dotted with sparse, spade-shaped rosettes. Her tail flicked once, sharply, as she paused to scan the engineering schematics projected on the bulkhead.

At their center, Squad Leader K'Tharr V'Rell exuded authority. His Togartz frame was a wall of muscle, the scar across his muzzle a map of past battles. His amber eyes swept the compartment, unblinking, as he barked orders in guttural Katzen—a low, vibrating growl that made even the Löwe's tail stiffen. His own armor bore faint scratches and a dented pauldron, trophies of service. When he turned his gaze to the engineering room hatch, his ears twitched forward, a silent signal for the squad to advance. They obeyed without hesitation, their tails swishing in synchronized purpose, the air thick with the quiet tension of a pride moving as one.

"Captain Valerius briefed us on the situation," K'tharr said, his voice a low rumble. "We'll be handling the initial breach and securing the main corridors. Your engineering team will be responsible for opening the docking port hatch, disabling the ship's security systems and providing tech support during the operation." He turned his gaze to Thomas, M'Sara, and D'Ressa, assessing them with a critical eye. "Ensure your work is… efficient. Lives depend on it."

D'Ressa, usually quiet, met his gaze steadily. She didn't appreciate being spoken to like a subordinate from them, but she understood the stakes. "We will," she said, her voice firm.

"Good." K'tharr nodded curtly. "Let's review the schematics. We'll be using the training room to run a full-scale boarding simulation."

The training room was a large, configurable space designed to replicate various ship layouts. Within minutes, holographic projections transformed it into a section of the K'hara's interior, complete with corridors, security checkpoints, and automated turrets.

K'Tharr V'Rell's amber eyes swept over them, assessing. "Efficient work is paramount. The K'hara's security is likely minimal, but complacency is a luxury we cannot afford. D'Ressa, I understand you're leading the tech team on this mission?"

D'Ressa, usually reserved, straightened her shoulders. "Affirmative, Lieutenant. I've reviewed the schematics of the K'hara. Their security is primarily based on standard CAW protocols, though likely neglected due to the pirates. We can disable the external sensor systems remotely."

"Good," K'Tharr V'Rell nodded. "Thomas, M'Sara, you'll be assisting D'Ressa. Thomas, your creative problem-solving skills will be valuable if we encounter unexpected modifications. M'Sara, your logical approach and technical expertise will be crucial for maintaining system integrity."

M'Sara gave a curt nod, her cobalt blue eyes focused and determined. Thomas, ever the optimist, offered a friendly grin. "Sounds like a plan! We'll make sure everything's prepped and ready to go."

"Excellent," K'Tharr said, turning to a holographic display. "The last known layout of the K'hara will be replicated one area at a time as we make our way to the bridge. We'll run through the scenario multiple times until we achieve seamless coordination."

The training room hummed with the sterile glow of holographic projectors, its walls shifting to mimic the cold, metallic corridors of the K'hara. A faint scent of ozone lingered in the air—a byproduct of the simulation's energy fields.

"You three," he said, eyes locking onto Thomas, M'Sara, and D'Ressa. "You'll disable the security grid before we breach. No margin for error. The K'hara's systems are old. One misstep, and you'll be dead before you touch a console."

Thomas adjusted his engineer's gloves, their synthetic leather reinforced with neutron alloy. "We've hacked older systems. Let's see what you throw at us."

K'Tharr's tail stilled. "This isn't a game. The Serpent's Coil won't hesitate to kill younglings." He gestured to the hologram of the K'hara, its skeletal structure glowing faintly. "Your job: shut down the ship's defense matrix, override the locks, and clear the way. My squad handles the rest."

The drill began with a countdown. The training room dissolved into the K'hara's area inside the entrance, its walls a labyrinth of pipes and conduits. Holographic security drones patrolled the area, their red sensors sweeping. Thomas crouched beside M'Sara.

"D'Ressa, the terminal is here," M'Sara said, pointing to a pulsing node near the bulkhead. "But the locks are encrypted. We'll need to reroute power from the auxiliary grid."

D'Ressa nodded, her hand-paws moving swiftly over a portable interface. "Auxiliary's offline. Someone's already cut the line." She glanced at Thomas. "Can you bypass it?"

Thomas grinned. "I can try." He pulled a thin, flexible tool from his belt, "This should bridge the gap. M'Sara, hold the drones off while I do it."

M'Sara's tail swished sharply. "I'll distract them. You'd better be fast."

"Done," he said, wiping his brow.

D'Ressa hesitated, then input a sequence. The locks hissed open. Behind them, the marines surged forward, weapons raised.

A new alarm blared. The hologram shifted: a secondary defense system had activated, flooding the corridor with a plasma firewall.

"Shit," Thomas muttered. "That wasn't in the briefing."

M'Sara's eyes narrowed. "The firewall's drawing power from the life-support system. If we shut it down, we risk suffocating the crew."

D'Ressa's hand-paws froze. "There's a third option. We overload the firewall's relay using the mainframe. It'll collapse the barrier—but it could destabilize the entire grid."

K'Tharr's voice crackled through their comms. "Decide now."

Thomas met M'Sara's gaze. "We stabilize it after the overload. I'll code a failsafe."

M'Sara's tail flicked once—agreement. "Do it."

D'Ressa's hands moved, precise and unyielding. The firewall flickered, then imploded in a burst of light. The marines charged through.

They made it further in, the next locked bulkhead was just ahead.

"Security terminal located," Thomas announced, his voice tinged with excitement. "I'll need to override the firewall."

M'Sara moved to assist, her logical approach methodically deconstructing the security layers. Meanwhile, D'Ressa worked on a secondary panel, ensuring backup systems were neutralized. The marines watched closely, their tails twitching in approval as the engineers demonstrated their skills.

As the simulation progressed, resistance manifested in the form of holographic guards and automated turrets. K'Tharr led his squad through the corridors, their movements precise and coordinated. Thomas and M'Sara followed, providing real-time support by disabling obstacles and enhancing the marines' tactical advantage.

A challenge arose when a section of the corridor collapsed, cutting off their path. Without hesitation, D'Ressa accessed the structural integrity system, stabilizing the area just in time for the marines to advance. The teamwork was seamless, each member contributing uniquely to overcome the obstacle.

Throughout the simulation, interactions between the engineers and marines revealed a growing camaraderie. K'Tharr's respect for their technical prowess was evident, while Thomas and M'Sara admired the marines' tactical precision. Even D'Ressa, usually reserved, found herself engaging more actively with the team.

As the day progressed, Thomas found himself drawn into discussions about security protocols and system redundancies. M'Sara contributed her technical expertise, her logical approach complementing Thomas's creativity. Meanwhile, K'Tharr observed their interactions, his expression unreadable yet attentive.

By evening, a tentative rapport had formed between the engineers and marines. Though M'Sara remained reserved as she watched Thomas talking with the Lehpparr marine, there was an undercurrent of mutual respect. Thomas, ever the socializer, found common ground with some of the squad members, learning about their experiences and the unique challenges they faced.

Thomas couldn't help but feel a sense of readiness. The arrival of K'Tharr's squad had not only bolstered security but also reminded him of the broader mission ahead.

"Alright," K'Tharr said, after the final simulation run. "Looks like you've done your homework. Let's move out."

There be pirates

The Hegh'ta dropped out of warp on the opposite side of the sun from the K'hara, cloaked and silent. The colony ship, visibly damaged from the pirate attack, drifted aimlessly in the void. K'tharr's squad, armed with pulse rifles and breaching charges, prepared to board. Thomas, M'Sara, and D'Ressa, carrying specialized diagnostic tools and data pads along with their weapons, followed close behind.

"Remember the plan," K'tharr barked over the comms. "Engineering team, you're with me. Open the docking hatch, disable the security systems, then secure the bridge. Let's make this quick and clean."

"Alright," Thomas said, his voice calm but steady as he checked his plasma carbine. "We're going in hot. Keep your eyes peeled and stick close to the marines."

M'Sara nodded, her expression focused. "Remember, we're here to disable their systems, not engage unless necessary. Let the marines handle the fighting."

D'Ressa, ever quiet, gave a brief nod, her spotted fur standing slightly on end as she adjusted her own weapon. She had been hesitant about this mission, but there was no doubting her skill or courage.

The Hegh'ta docked with the K'hara seamlessly, its cloaking system maintaining their invisibility even as they transferred through to the airlock in the docking tube.

As the Katzen marines advanced, three figures emerged from the shadows of the docking tube, their presence a blend of alien grace and human ingenuity. M'Sara moved like a living shadow, her jet-black fur merging seamlessly with the dark grey combat armor. At her hip was a sidearm, and hanging on a strap was a compact pulse carbine same as the rest. Her cobalt-blue eyes, vivid and piercing, glowed faintly under the ship's dim lighting, scanning the corridor with predatory precision. The armor clung to her lithe frame, its open-toed boots leaving her padded toes exposed, claws sheathed but ready. Her tail, striped faintly with ghostly amber markings, flicked once to signal silent understanding to her companion.

Beside her, D'Ressa prowled with the sinuous energy of her lynx-like lineage. Her armor, though the same matte grey, could not fully conceal the burnished gold of her fur, which peeked through the reinforced joints like sunlight through forest gaps. Her golden eyes, sharp and calculating, locked onto the engineering schematics ahead, already mapping weaknesses in the security grid. Unlike M'Sara's silent tread, D'Ressa's claws clicked softly against the metal deck—intentional, a subtle reminder of her readiness. Her tail, tipped with black fur, twitched in rhythm with her thoughts, a metronome of focus.

Flanking them, Thomas strode with deliberate purpose, his human form encased in Katzen armor re-engineered to fit his biology. The suit's upper half hugged his torso with the same sleek logic as the marines' gear, but below the waist, it transformed. Gone were the tail slots and digitigrade leg reinforcements; instead, the armor flowed into humanoid proportions, its plates contoured to his hips and thighs, the knee joints bristling with the same reinforced plating as Katzen elbows. His boots, devoid of claw holes, ended in sturdy, non-slip soles—practical, not feline. Yet the material was identical: a dark grey, almost living composite that absorbed the light rather than reflecting it. As he moved, the armor's weight seemed to bend to his will, a testament to its adaptation. A computer in his vambrace, its holographic interface already humming with frequencies to bypass the hatch security.

Together, the trio moved with purpose, their eyes locked on the task ahead. M'Sara and D'Ressa exchanged a glance, their tails flicking in silent communication, while Thomas crouched slightly, his modified armor shifting smoothly as he prepared to work on the hatch's controls. The air was thick with tension, but there was no hesitation among them—this was familiar territory for all three. They were about to breach the security system, and nothing would stop them from gaining access to the ship. With a final tap, the airlock hatch hissed open, revealing the darkened corridor beyond. 

K'Tharr gave a single, guttural bark. The marines surged forward, plasma carbines raised, their movements a blur of lethal grace. The Togartz female at the rear covered the flanks, her striped coat a flash of warning in the dim light, while the Löwe twins moved like shadows, their pale and golden furs stark against the blood-red emergency lighting.

The corridor was abandoned—too abandoned. No bodies, no signs of struggle, just the cold silence of a ship held hostage. Then, a flicker of motion. A Chorali bioluminescent tendril slithered around a corner—and exploded in a burst of light as a marine's plasma bolt seared through it.

"Clear!" K'Tharr roared, his scarred muzzle twisting into a snarl. The squad pressed on, clearing cargo bays, utility rooms, and crew quarters with ruthless efficiency. The pirates were nowhere, but the evidence of their cruelty was: shattered cribs in the youngling's quarters, food stores looted, and walls scrawled with geometric patterns—Lithos markings, warning signs of their hive-mind.

The marines moved with precision, their plasma carbines at the ready as they advanced through the corridors. They encountered little resistance at first, but as they pressed deeper into the ship, the signs of battle became more evident. Bloodstains on the walls, scattered debris, and the occasional flicker of a damaged console all testified to the violence that had transpired here.

They encountered pockets of pirates – Lithos, Crystalines, and even a few Scheiße – but the Katzen marines were too well-trained, too disciplined. The pirates were quickly overwhelmed, their crude weapons no match for the advanced technology of CAW.

Finally, they reached another locked bulkhead, this one even more heavily reinforced than the last. The marines took up positions on either side, their weapons trained on the door as if it were alive. "We are getting close to the bridge." K'Tharr growled, his voice low and guttural over the comms.

"Security's layered," Thomas murmured, his voice crisp over the comms. "Standard CAW encryption, but with a pirate override. They're using a chaotic key system, constantly shifting. It's… crude." He tapped rapidly on his vambrace, lines of code scrolling across the screen. "M'Sara, run a diagnostic on the power conduits. I'm detecting a surge suppressor. They're anticipating attempts to brute-force the system."

M'Sara, her eyes focused and intense, was already at work. Her smaller frame allowed her to maneuver more easily in the cramped space. She traced the power lines with a specialized scanner built into her vambrace, the device emitting a faint hum. "Confirmed. A localized energy field is diverting power from the access panel. They're trying to fry any attempts at electronic intrusion." She tapped a sequence on her own holographic interface, and a small, spider-like device detached from her belt and scurried along the conduit, attaching itself to a junction box. "Bypassing the suppressor now. Give me a few seconds."

D'Ressa, her lynx-like fur color blending with the ship's grey interior, stood guard, her golden eyes scanning the corridor for any sign of ambush. She was the quietest of the three, letting her actions speak for her. She ran a passive scan of the surrounding bulkheads, searching for life signs or hidden sensors. "Nothing immediate," she reported, her voice a low murmur. "But I'm detecting faint energy signatures further down the corridor. They're being careful."

"Almost there…" Thomas muttered, his fingers flying across the tablet. "Cracking the encryption… just a little more…" A green light flashed on the vambrace, and a series of beeps confirmed the bypass. "Got it! Security disengaged."

With a hiss of escaping air, the hatch unlocked. The heavy door swung inward, revealing a dimly lit corridor. The air inside was stale and carried a faint, metallic tang.

"Go, go, go!" K'Tharr V'Rell barked, his voice resonating with authority.

The Katzen marines surged forward, a wave of sleek, armored bodies. They moved with practiced precision, forming a tight formation. The Togartz and Löwe took the lead, their larger frames providing a shield for the Lehpparr and other marines. Plasma carbines were raised, ready to engage.

As the marines entered the room, the atmosphere was palpable with anticipation. The space, once a storage area was vast, its walls lined with crates and boxes arranged haphazardly by pirates seeking cover. The air was thick with the scent of oil and metal, a stark contrast to the sterile corridors they had traversed earlier. The lighting flickered intermittently, casting shadows that danced across the uneven terrain of scattered debris.

The marines fanned out into the rectangular chamber, their plasma carbines raised, tails flicking like metronomes of tension. The room was a labyrinth of improvisation—pirate-placed obstacles jutted from the walls like jagged teeth: stacked crates of corroded metal, overturned cargo boxes bristling with wires, and tangles of discarded machinery. The air smelled of oil and decay. D'Ressa crouched near the security bulkhead, her golden eyes glowing faintly as she manipulated her computer in her vambrace, its holographic interface casting a cold blue halo over her lynx-like features. M'Sara stood rigid beside her, eyes scanning shadows, while Thomas—his modified armor clanking softly as he shifted—covered the rear, his human hands tightening on a compact plasma pistol. The Katzen marines formed a semicircle around them, their silence broken only by the low, rhythmic thrum of their claws tapping against metal.

D'Ressa quickly made her way up to then knelt before the bulkhead, her padded fingertips flying over her vambrace. Her amber eyes were focused, her breath steady as she worked to bypass the security system. M'Sara and Thomas stood guard nearby, their plasma carbines at the ready. M'Sara's dark fur glistened under the dim light, while Thomas adjusted his modified armor.

The silence stretched, taut and expectant. D'Ressa's fingers paused. "Almost… bypassing the final layer…"

Squad Leader K'Tharr V'Rell crouched low, his muscular frame tense as his tail flicked once, sharp, toward the bulkhead. "Stay sharp," he rumbled in Katzen, the vibration of his voice sending a ripple through the squad. The Togartz female at his flank, her black-and-orange stripes stark against the gray armor, pressed herself against a crate, her ears swiveling to track every shadow. T'Liana the Lehpparr marine, still studying the radar on her vambrace, froze as a single red dot flickered across her vambrace—a thermal anomaly behind the rusted ventilation duct.

T'Liana suddenly shouted in Katzen, her voice urgent, "Contact!"

Suddenly, a low grinding noise echoed from the walls. Pirates emerged swiftly from hidden panels and what seemed like blocked doors, their presence a shock that shattered the silence. They were a motley crew, armed with plasma weapons and a feral intensity in their eyes.

Chaos erupted as the pirates swarmed in, firing indiscriminately. The marines reacted instinctively. K'Tharr barked orders in guttural Katzen, his voice a command that galvanized the squad into action. D'Ressa ducked behind a crate, her hacking tools still in hand, while M'Sara and Thomas returned fire, their movements fluid and precise.

K'Tharr V'Rell unleashed a guttural roar, a challenge and a command. Plasma carbines came up, spitting emerald death. The Löwe Katzen, with their superior agility, weaved between the crates, returning fire with deadly accuracy. The Togartz, a wall of muscle and armor, absorbed the initial onslaught, providing cover for their squadmates. The Lehpparr, a blur of orange and black, moved like a phantom, flanking the pirates and taking them down with precise bursts of fire.

The Togartz female at the rear provided cover with relentless accuracy, her plasma carbine blazing. The Lehpparr female darted between crates, her agility advantages as she flanked the pirates. K'Tharr led the charge, his presence commanding as he took down enemies with calculated efficiency.

The battle was a symphony of chaos—shouts, plasma bursts, and the metallic clang of weapons. Yet amidst the turmoil, the marines maintained their discipline, each member playing their role seamlessly. M'Sara's keen eyes spotted a pirate attempting to flank them, while Thomas wearing his modified armor grappled and an opponent in close combat, he kicked them back, drawing his side arm, and at point blank fired, a hole now in where the pirates head should be.

But the pirates were numerous, overwhelming. Plasma bolts slammed into the Katzen armor, sending sparks flying. One pirate managed to clip K'Tharr's pauldron, sending him stumbling back. Another targeted a Löwe, forcing him to dive behind a crate.

D'Ressa, caught in the crossfire, yelped as a plasma bolt scorched her vambrace. M'Sara, shielding her, returned fire with a furious burst, dropping the attacker. Thomas, despite wearing armor, moved with surprising speed, dodging plasma fire and providing covering fire with a pulse pistol.

Multiple pirates zeroed in on D'Ressa, their movements swift and brutal. They overwhelmed her defenses, breaking through her armor. A scream of pain tore through the room as she was hit, her body spinning from the force of the attack. Her carbine slipped on its strap, clattering to the floor as she collided with the wall and crumpled to the ground.

Thomas reacted instantly, his eyes darting towards D'Ressa's scream, and shouted, "No!" 

He yanked her behind a nearby crate, shielding her from further attacks. He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands trembling as he pried off the shattered armor. D'Ressa's breath came in ragged gasps, her golden eyes wide with pain. With trembling hands, his heart pounding as he applied heal-jel to the bloody wound on her flank. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mingling with the acrid smell of burning electronics. 

"Thomas!" M'Sara's voice cut through the chaos. She crouched beside him, her eyes scanning the room. A split second later, T'Liana—a lean Lehpparr marine with spade-shaped rosettes on her coat—joined them, her plasma carbine barking.

The pirates, sensing an opportunity, intensified their fire. Plasma bolts sizzled past Thomas' head, impacting the crates around them with explosive force. One shot ricocheted off a nearby panel, sending sparks flying.

"Cover them!" T'Liana snarled, her tail flicking in time with her shots. M'Sara retrieved her compact carbine hanging on the strap and returned fire, her precision picking off a Chorali that had slithered too close. Debris rained down as pirates pressed the attack, but the trio formed a shield of fire and resolve.

"Covering!" M'Sara's voice cut through the chaos. She dropped to one knee, her carbine barking a steady stream of violence. She expertly targeted the pirates flanking their position, forcing them to take cover.

D'Ressa's claws dug into Thomas's arm. "Go," she hissed, her voice raw. "I'll hold them—"

"Not happening," Thomas growled, his hands steady now as he applied a dermal sealant. Blood smeared his gloves, but he didn't look away.

T'Liana's growl deepened. "Move, engineers! I'll buy you time!" She fired a warning shot at a closing Lithos, the blast sending it recoiling.

M'Sara's tail flicked toward Thomas. "We need to go. Now."

The room was a symphony of gunfire, shouts, and the occasional roar of pain. Despite the relentless assault, D'Ressa's determined eyes remained fixed on Thomas, signaling her resolve to survive this ordeal.

"They're focusing on us!" T'Liana yelled over the din. "They want to get to the engineers!"

The initial pirate ambush had thrown them into a brutal, close-quarters fight, but the Katzen marines were a force honed for exactly this kind of conflict. Now, the priority shifted from clearing a path to the bridge, to returning with their wounded. K'Tharr barked orders, a guttural rumble that cut through the continuing gunfire. "Fall back! Establish a perimeter! Get D'Ressa to the Hegh'ta!"

M'Sara and Thomas, working in practiced coordination, carefully lifted the limp form of D'Ressa between them. Her breathing was shallow, ragged, and the crimson stain on her armor was spreading despite Thomas's frantic application of heal-gel and the dermal seal. Each step was agonizingly slow, a delicate balance between speed and protecting their injured comrade.

T'Liana, moved like a shadow, her lithe form weaving between crates and overturned containers. She covered their retreat with precise bursts from her plasma carbine, her amber eyes constantly scanning for threats. "Medic team, stand by at the airlock! We have a critical casualty!" she barked into her comm, her voice tight with urgency.

The pirates, emboldened by their initial success, had erected makeshift barricades – stacks of cargo containers, overturned tables, anything to slow the marines' retreat. But the Katzen were relentless. Löwe marines vaulted over obstacles with effortless grace, Togartz bulldozed through them with brute force, and the Lehpparrs exploited every shadow and angle, flanking and disrupting the pirate lines. Plasma fire lanced through the confined corridors, vaporizing metal and sending sparks flying.

Each blockade fell quickly, overwhelmed by the marines' superior training and firepower. Pirates fell before they could reload, their weapons useless against the disciplined onslaught. The retreat wasn't a rout, but a controlled withdrawal, a tide of dark grey armor pushing back against the desperate resistance.

They were almost there. The docking tube loomed ahead, the airlock a beacon of safety. Just a few more meters… then D'Ressa's monitor shrieked, a high-pitched, insistent wail. Thomas glanced down, his blood running cold. The bio-signs were flatlining.

"D'Ressa! Stay with us!" he yelled, frantically checking the connections on her vambrace. But it was no use. Her body went rigid, her breathing ceased. Cardiac arrest.

The marines pressed forward with renewed urgency, their plasma fire intensifying, creating a momentary lull in the fighting. The airlock doors hissed open, revealing a team of medics in sterile white suits, a gurney floating in the air with them, ready to receive the casualty.

With a final surge of effort, M'Sara and Thomas carried D'Ressa through the airlock and onto a waiting gurney. The medics immediately took over, their movements swift and efficient. They initiated resuscitation protocols, attaching monitors and administering emergency treatments.

As the gurney floated away, disappearing down the corridor towards the medical bay, Thomas slumped against the wall, his face pale with exhaustion and fear. The battle wasn't over, but for now, they had bought D'Ressa a chance. A chance he desperately hoped she would survive.

K'Tharr's growl cut through the din of battle, his amber eyes blazing with urgency. His tail lashed once, a rigid whip against the bulkhead, as he barked in guttural Katzen: "The bridge is the heart of this ship. Crush it, and the pirates lose their pulse. Move—" He jabbed a clawed finger toward the corridor leading to the bridge, his scarred muzzle tightening. To Thomas and M'Sara, he switched to broken English, his voice a low rumble: "You two—finish what D'Ressa started. The bridge is locked down. Bypass it. Now." His ears flattened, not in anger, but in the focused intensity of a predator who'd already tasted blood and couldn't afford to lose more.

The marines surged forward, cutting through scattered pirates with clinical precision. T'Liana moved at Thomas's shoulder, her plasma carbine humming as she picked off a Chorali bioluminescent sniper. Her spade-shaped rosettes bristled under the dim emergency lighting, her tail flicking in sharp, deliberate arcs—a Lehpparr's tell for heightened alertness. But her gaze lingered just a heartbeat too long on Thomas's profile as he crouched to scan the bulkhead's security panel.

K'Tharr's tail lashed once, a silent command. "Remember, every moment we delay is another moment those colonists suffer. Move with purpose."

Thomas and M'Sara exchanged a determined glance. The weight of the situation settled upon them, the urgency of K'Tharr's words fueling their resolve. They turned back to the reinforced bulkhead, the scene of D'Ressa's near-fatal injury still fresh in their minds.

"This way," Thomas muttered, fingers flying over the holographic interface. M'Sara crouched beside him, her eyes narrowing as she cross-referenced the ship's schematics. "It's a layered firewall… pirate tech," she hissed, her claws tapping a rhythm of frustration. "They've rerouted the power grid to lock it down. We need to overload the auxiliary relay—"

"I'll handle it." T'Liana's voice was sharp, but her ears twitched forward, a subtle gesture of deference—or perhaps protectiveness. She fired a warning shot at a Scheiße ambush, its geometric patterns flaring crimson as it crumbled. "Stay low," she added, her tail curling slightly around Thomas's back as he worked.

T'Liana eyes scanning the area with heightened alertness. She was ever-vigilant, ensuring no pirates slipped through unnoticed. Her proximity to Thomas wasn't just about strategy; there was a subtle shift in her demeanor, a hint of protectiveness that went beyond duty.

Thomas didn't notice. His hands trembled as he bypassed the final encryption layer, his mind still on D'Ressa's scream. M'Sara's voice cut through the haze: "Thomas—now. The pirates are regrouping."

"Covering your six," T'Liana growled softly, her voice low but reassuring. She didn't take her eyes off the surroundings, but there was an undercurrent of concern for Thomas's well-being.

T'Liana's actions spoke volumes. She was more than just a guard; she was a shield, ensuring that nothing distracted Thomas and M'Sara from their task. Her occasional glances at Thomas were fleeting but meaningful, betraying a growing admiration for his calm under pressure.

As the bulkhead finally gave way with a hiss of released pressure, T'Liana stepped back, her stance relaxed yet ready. She allowed herself a moment to glance at Thomas, a flicker of respect in her eyes before she turned to scan the area again.

T'Liana didn't wait for orders. She grabbed Thomas's arm—a human's arm, unfamiliarly warm—and yanked him into cover behind a shattered console. "Watch your six," she snarled, though her claws hovered just long enough on his sleeve to leave a faint ridge in the armor. When she turned to fire, her tail curled toward him, a silent, instinctive gesture.

The bridge was ahead. The fight wasn't over. But as T'Liana moved to lead them forward, her gaze lingered on Thomas's back, a flicker of something unspoken in her amber eyes—gratitude, admiration, or something sharper.

Thomas and M'Sara exchanged a nod, their teamwork seamless. T'Liana fell into formation beside them, her protectiveness evident but not overpowering. The mission was far from over, but they were making progress.

As they moved towards the bridge, the air was thick with anticipation. The fight wasn't over, but neither were they. And somewhere in the back of T'Liana's mind, a seed of admiration had been planted, one that might blossom into something more in the days to come—though for now, survival and success were their only priorities.

The marines surged into the bridge, K'Tharr's guttural command—*"Vor'Kha! T'ka'tur!"—echoing through the cramped compartment as plasma carbines flared to life. The pirates, entrenched behind shattered control panels and jury-rigged barricades of old server racks, unleashed a hail of fire from relics of war: bolt-action railguns with muzzle flashes like dying stars, corroded plasma shotguns that sputtered greenish globs of energy, and hand-cranked coilguns whose magnetic slugs whined like angry wasps. The air reeked of ozone and burnt metal, the bridge's emergency lights flickering as concussive blasts rocked the room.

T'Liana moved like a shadow alongside Thomas and M'Sara, her lean Lehpparr frame crouched low behind a toppled terminal. Her dark orange coat bristled, spade-shaped rosettes on her fur standing out like embers as she growled low in her throat, "Sch'ra vell'ka!" ("Not today, maggots!"). A pirate's slug-whine sliced through the smoke—she spun, her carbine barking a controlled triple-tap that melted the shooter and their coilgun to slag. Her tail lashed, a metronome of agitation, as she shielded Thomas with her body, her claws raking a pirate's face before they could target M'Sara.

T'Liana stayed close to Thomas and M'Sara, her protective instincts apparent. She growled low in her throat as a pirate aimed a disruptor rifle at the engineers, her amber eyes blazing with fury. Before the pirate could fire, T'Liana was on him, her claws flashing in the dim light as she tore through his armor and sent him crashing into a bulkhead. "Stay back!" she snarled at the engineers, her voice low and dangerous, though it was more of a warning than an order.

The engineers hunched together, Thomas' hands trembling as he jammed a data spike into the bridge's security console. M'Sara's vambrace hologram flickered under crossfire, her eyes narrowing as T'Liana shouted over the din, "Almost there! Geh'na, Thomas, don't get killed!" Thomas didn't answer—his gaze locked on T'Liana, whose every snarl and lethal pivot seemed to scream "I'll keep you safe." Even through the chaos, her amber eyes found his between bursts of fire, a silent promise in their glow.

Pirate reinforcements poured from maintenance ducts, their primitive weapons clashing against the marines' precision. A Löwe marine roared as a railgun bolt gored his pauldron, but he retaliated with a plasma burst that ignited a barricade in a fireball of synthetic wood and bone. K'Tharr, a living avalanche of fury, slammed his combat axe into a Scheiße pirate's chest, the creature's crystalline exoskeleton shattering like glass. Yet the bridge was a labyrinth of death—every cover spot an ambush, every shadow a new threat.

T'Liana's patience snapped when a Chorali sniper's dart grazed Thomas' shoulder. With a feral scream, she launched herself over the console, her carbine weaving a lattice of fire. "VOR'KHA!" she howled, her claws tearing through a pirate's throat as she pinned another beneath her boot, her teeth bared in a snarl that could've curdled blood. "Stay down," she hissed to the dying being, spitting Katzen curses that made even K'Tharr wince.

"Well done," K'Tharr growled, his voice deep and resonant. "But we're not out of the fight yet. Secure this bridge and prepare for the next wave."

T'Liana nodded, her anger fading into a simmering readiness. She turned to Thomas and M'Sara, her expression softening slightly as she gave them a brief nod. "Stay sharp," she growled, her voice low but firm.

A pirate, aiming a crude energy pistol at Thomas, managed to get a shot off. T'Liana roared – a deep, vibrating growl that resonated through the compartment – and unleashed a furious volley, dropping the pirate before the bolt could connect. "K'thiss!" she spat, a Katzen curse that translated roughly to "Worthless filth!" Her ears flattened against her head, and her tail lashed back and forth in barely contained rage whenever a shot came too close to her charges. She seemed to be taking the fight personally, her protective instincts overriding any sense of battlefield protocol.

A pirate left his hiding spot and launched a grenade, aiming for the cover M'Sara and Thomas were using. T'Liana, with a speed that belied her armored bulk, leaped forward, knocking M'Sara and Thomas to the ground just as the grenade detonated. The explosion rocked the compartment, showering them with debris, but the Katzen's quick thinking had saved them from serious injury.

"Stay down!" she growled, her voice tight with concern. "I'll cover you."

T'Liana was a whirlwind of vengeance. Her carbine barked, each shot finding a Lithos' geometric patterns as they shifted too slowly to evade her. She vaulted over a fallen pirate, her tail lashing like a whip to knock another attacker off balance. When a Draschlägerchen swooped down, talons gleaming, she pivoted, her boot slamming into its chest with a crunch. She snarled curses in guttural Katzen, her ears flat, eyes blazing. She didn't just fight—she punished. Yet when a stray plasma bolt seared past Thomas, she spun, intercepting it with a shield generator on her vambrace, her growl turning protective. "Stay behind me," she hissed, her hand-paw clamping onto his shoulder, claws digging just enough to anchor him.

The firefight raged on, but the Katzen's relentless assault was slowly but surely turning the tide. They systematically cleared each section of the bridge, pushing the pirates back with overwhelming firepower and tactical precision. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last pirate fell, and the bridge fell silent.

The air was thick with the smell of burnt metal and ozone. The bridge was a wreck, littered with debris and the bodies of the fallen. But the Katzen marines stood victorious, their armor scarred but intact, their mission accomplished. K'Tharr surveyed the scene with a grim satisfaction. The colony ship was one step closer to being reclaimed.

I am now authorized to use physical force

T'Liana placed a reassuring hand-paw on each of their shoulders, her presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos. Her earlier fury now softened by concern, she remained vigilant, ensuring their safety as they worked.

"Bridge secured, Captain," a Löwe marine reported. "No survivors."

"Good. Now, the rest of this ship. We need to find those colonists. And the crew. All of you, search and clear. Leave no stone unturned." He paused, then addressed a select few. "Thomas, M'Sara, you're with me. We'll access the ship's computer systems. See what we can find."

He turned to T'Liana, a flicker of approval in his eyes. "T'Liana, you stay with the engineers. Watch their backs. Make sure they're safe."

T'Liana's ears perked up, a subtle sign of pleasure. She moved immediately to stand beside M'Sara and Thomas, her hand-paw resting lightly on M'Sara's shoulder. It wasn't a formal gesture, but a possessive one, a silent declaration that these two were under her protection. She glanced at Thomas, her amber eyes lingering for a moment before she returned her gaze to the task at hand.

"Let's go," she rumbled, her voice low and protective. "We need to find them. All of them."

As they moved towards the ship's central computer core, T'Liana kept a watchful eye on their surroundings, her senses on high alert. She scanned every shadow, every doorway, every potential hiding place. She didn't speak much, but her presence was a comforting reassurance.

"You alright?" she asked M'Sara in Katzen, her voice softer than usual.

M'Sara nodded, a grateful smile on her face. "I am now. Thanks, T'Liana."

Thomas, walking beside them, felt a strange mix of gratitude and…something else. T'Liana's protectiveness was almost overwhelming, and he couldn't help but wonder what was behind it. Was it simply professional duty, or was there something more? He pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand. They had a ship full of colonists to find, and a crew to rescue. And for now, he was grateful to have a fierce, protective Lehpparr watching their backs.

The computer core room lay just off the bridge, a stark, utilitarian space humming with the residual energy of a once-pristine system. The pirates hadn't bothered with subtlety, reinforcing the single entrance with welded steel plates and a jury-rigged alarm system. It took nearly a minute of focused effort, a dance of bypassing security protocols and disabling crude traps, but Thomas and M'Sara, working in practiced synchronicity, finally breached the defenses.

Thomas focused on the physical overrides, his nimble fingers tracing the lines of the pirate modifications, while M'Sara, her brow furrowed in concentration, navigated the digital labyrinth of the ship's core systems. They moved as a unit, anticipating each other's needs, a silent conversation passing between them as they peeled back layers of pirate code.

T'Liana stood sentinel at their backs, a silent, watchful guardian. Her carbine was held at the ready, scanning the walls and ceiling for any sign of ambush. She didn't speak, didn't need to. Her presence was enough, a reassuring weight in the tense atmosphere. Occasionally, her gaze would drift to Thomas, lingering for a beat longer than necessary.

As Thomas bypassed the final physical lock, T'Liana's hand-paw landed on his shoulder, a firm, grounding pressure. It wasn't a casual touch. Her claws, normally sheathed, pressed lightly into his armor, a subtle display of…something. Affection, perhaps? Possessiveness? It was a uniquely Katzen gesture, a silent claim, and Thomas felt a strange warmth bloom beneath his armor. She kept her eyes fixed on the room's perimeter, unwavering, but the pressure on his shoulder remained, a constant reminder of her presence. She repeated the gesture with M'Sara, a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder as well.

Once inside, the real work began. The pirate modifications were extensive, a chaotic mess of spliced wires and corrupted code. But Thomas and M'Sara were undeterred. They worked in a fluid rhythm, within a minute Thomas isolated the core systems while M'Sara began to unravel the pirate's intrusion.

"Got it," M'Sara announced after a few more tense minutes, her fingers flying across the holographic interface projected from her vambrace. "They had a manual override on the docking ring. A simple switch that alerted them the moment we docked. Clever dirt bags."

A few more minutes passed, filled with the hum of processors and the click of interfaces. Then, M'Sara routed the ship's internal camera feed to the main screen on the bridge. The image flickered to life, revealing a horrifying sight.

"There," she breathed, her voice tight with emotion. "The mess hall."

The screen showed a vast, cavernous space crammed with people. Hundreds of Katzen colonists huddled together, looking terrified and exhausted. Pirates were everywhere – guarding the two massive doors, patrolling the aisles, their weapons glinting in the dim light. The scene was chaotic, oppressive.

Thomas scanned the room, his heart sinking with each passing moment. "No sign of the crew," he murmured, his voice grim.

But it was what they didn't see that sent a chill down their spines.

"Wait… something's wrong," M'Sara said, zooming in on the crowd. "There are no younglings."

The bridge of the K'hara was a cacophony of tension. K'Tharr V'Rell paced in front of the main viewscreen, his scarred muzzle tight with focus. The screen displayed a live feed of the mess hall: colonists huddled in the center, their faces pale and wide-eyed, flanked by pirates—Lithos looming like stone sentinels, Chorali slithering in their bioluminescent coils, and a pair of Draschlägerchen perched atop a table, their clawed limbs gripping plasma rifles. No younglings. The absence gnawed at the edges of the room's grim atmosphere. Behind him, Thomas, M'Sara, and T'Liana entered, their armor dented and smudged with the grime of battle. M'Sara's cobalt eyes were sharp, her breath steady despite the blood still staining her vambrace from D'Ressa's injury. Thomas adjusted his modified human armor, his hands trembling slightly as he met K'Tharr's amber gaze.

"So, they've crammed them all into the mess hall," K'Tharr rumbled, his voice a low growl. "Predictable. Makes them easier to control, but also… a tighter target." He stopped pacing and turned to face Thomas and M'Sara, his gaze intense. "We need to be surgical. A direct assault would be a bloodbath. Too many colonists in the line of fire."

After a few seconds, "This is the Plan," K'Tharr announced, his voice firm yet measured. "M'Sara, you're our key to creating chaos from above." He gestured towards the viewscreen, highlighting the life support ducts that crisscrossed the ceiling of the mess hall. "Your size and agility make this possible. Use your carbine in sniper mode; take them out one shot, one kill."

M'Sara nodded, her cobalt eyes sharp with focus. She adjusted her armor, ensuring her weapons were within reach. Her movements were deliberate, a testament to her precision and readiness.

"Thomas," K'Tharr continued, turning towards the engineer. "Your expertise is crucial. Override the door security swiftly. The moment you do, M'Sara starts her 'work.'"

Thomas acknowledged with a nod, his hands already moving to access his tools. His voice was calm yet urgent as he muttered, "Need to work quickly and quietly."

K'Tharr's ears twitched forward, a flicker of approval. "Good. T'Liana, you stay with Thomas. Shadow him. If the doors breach and the pirates react, you're his shield." His gaze locked onto the Lehpparr marine, her amber eyes blazing with silent resolve. She inclined her head, her carbine already cradled in one hand-paw.

T'Liana stepped closer to Thomas, her protective instincts evident. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, her claws gently digging into the armor—a silent promise of support.

K'Tharr then addressed the team over comms, his voice clear and commanding. "Marines, gather outside the mess hall. We move as one. Chaos will be our ally."

As K'Tharr finished relaying the plan to the rest of the marines, T'Liana, who had been silently shadowing Thomas and M'Sara, stepped forward. She placed a hand-paw on M'Sara's shoulder, her grip firm but reassuring.

"Be careful, little one," she rumbled in Katzen, her voice surprisingly gentle. "Don't let them get the drop on you." She glanced at Thomas, her amber eyes narrowing slightly as she said in broken English, "Human. Keep safe."

T'Liana's protective instincts were on full display, her gaze sweeping the bridge, scanning for any potential threats. She seemed to view both engineers as something precious to be guarded, and Thomas couldn't help but notice the intensity of her attention.

The atmosphere was charged with urgency yet calmness. Each crew member understood their role, their contributions vital to the mission's success. The tension was palpable, a blend of fear and determination.

As K'Tharr concluded his briefing, the team moved into position. M'Sara prepared to navigate the ducts, her presence a silent threat above. Thomas focused on his task, the weight of responsibility evident in his steady hands. T'Liana's protective stance around him was unwavering, a shield against potential threats.

The access panel hissed open, revealing the cramped, metallic throat of the life support system. M'Sara, a compact figure even for a Lochs, adjusted the seals of her armor, the internal lights casting a cool blue glow on the confined space. The air smelled stale, recycled, and faintly of lubricant. This wasn't her preferred method of ingress, but it was efficient, and efficiency was paramount. She took a deep breath, the filtered air filling her lungs, and slipped inside.

The vents were a labyrinth of narrow tunnels, forcing her to move in a crouch, her limbs extending and retracting with practiced ease. Dust motes danced in the beam of her helmet lamp as she navigated the twisting passages, relying on the schematic projected onto her visor to guide her. The metal groaned and vibrated with the ship's hum, a constant reminder of the fragile barrier between her and the vacuum of space.

She reached the designated vent overlooking the mess hall, a grated opening positioned directly above the main entrance. Below, she could see the huddled forms of the colonists, a sea of frightened Katzen. Pirates, heavily armed and watchful, guarded the doors. The scene was a tableau of despair.

She moved with a predator's grace, her padded hand-paws making minimal sound against the metal. The vent system wasn't designed for combat, but she'd adapted. She switched her plasma carbine to sniper mode, the barrel extending with a soft click. The weapon felt comfortable in her grip, an extension of her own will.

M'Sara settled into position, bracing her elbows against the vent's edge. Her breath slowed, her heart rate steadying. She ran a final systems check, calibrating the carbine's scope. Everything was green. She was a ghost in the machine, a silent guardian waiting for the signal. The minutes stretched, each second a weight on her nerves. She focused on her breathing, on the rhythm of the ship, on the task at hand. She was ready.

Meanwhile, Thomas, with T'Liana a silent shadow at his heels, followed K'Tharr and the two Löwe marines down the corridor. The air thrummed with tension, the marines moving with the disciplined efficiency of a pride. T'Liana's presence was… noticeable. She didn't speak, but her amber eyes constantly scanned the surroundings, her body coiled and ready to react. She kept a close proximity to Thomas, her gaze flicking between him and any potential threat.

They reached the reinforced doors of the mess hall. The marines fanned out, forming a tight perimeter. K'Tharr gave Thomas a curt nod. "Begin the override."

Thomas knelt before the security panel, his fingers flying across the interface. The pirate modifications were crude but effective, adding layers of encryption and fail-safes. He bypassed the first layer, then the second, his vambrace's holographic computer working in tandem with his own skills. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he wrestled with the final security protocol.

"Almost… almost…" he muttered, his focus absolute.

A red light flashed on the panel, indicating a final lock. He bypassed it with a swipe. The panel beeped, and a green light illuminated. "Override complete."

The doors hissed open, revealing the chaotic scene within. The colonists lay huddled on the floor, a mass of fear and despair. Pirates, armed with a mix of outdated and modern weaponry, stood guard, their faces grim.

The moment the doors unlocked, M'Sara unleashed her own personal hell.

A series of precise plasma bolts ripped through the air, impacting pirates with lethal accuracy. The pirates closest to the doors fell instantly, their bodies jerking from the impact. Chaos erupted. Colonists screamed. Pirates scrambled for cover.

"GO! GO! GO!" K'Tharr roared, leading the charge.

Thomas, carbine raised, followed close behind, firing controlled bursts at any pirate who posed a threat. The marines surged forward, a tide of grey armor and lethal firepower. The mess hall transformed into a battlefield, a maelstrom of plasma fire, screams, and the metallic clang of weapons.

T'Liana moved with a terrifying grace, a whirlwind of claws and plasma. She seemed to anticipate every pirate's move, cutting them down before they could react. Her growls were guttural and ferocious, a primal expression of fury. She stayed glued to Thomas's side, a silent, deadly guardian.

The colonists, initially paralyzed with fear, began to stir, slowly rising to their feet, their eyes wide with disbelief. The tide was turning. The pirates, caught off guard by the coordinated assault, were falling back, their ranks thinning with each passing moment.

The mess hall was a scene of controlled chaos. Marines established a perimeter around the huddled colonists, barking instructions to remain prone, their weapons sweeping the room. Thomas, adrenaline still coursing through him, moved towards the back, a hunch nagging at him. He needed to see if the pirates had left any digital breadcrumbs, any indication of who they were working for, or where they'd taken the ship's original crew.

T'Liana, a shadow of focused intensity, remained glued to his side. She hadn't broken formation since the initial breach, her amber eyes constantly scanning for threats, her body coiled and ready to react. It was unnerving, and… strangely comforting. He hadn't realized how much he'd relied on her silent vigilance.

He reached a small console tucked away near the kitchen entrance, likely used for managing meal requests and inventory. It was a long shot, but pirates weren't known for meticulous data hygiene. He began cycling through the logs, his fingers flying across the interface, while T'Liana positioned herself slightly behind and to his right, her carbine raised, a silent guardian.

A metallic clang from the kitchen startled him. T'Liana reacted instantly. Before Thomas could even register the threat, she shoved him hard to the side, sending him stumbling into a stack of food crates. Simultaneously, she lashed out with a powerful kick, sending one pirate sprawling backwards into the kitchen, crashing into a metal shelving unit.

Another pirate, faster and more agile, bypassed T'Liana's initial attack and lunged towards Thomas, weapon raised. Thomas, still regaining his balance, instinctively raised his sidearm – a compact plasma pistol – and fired. The shot was quick, precise, and deadly. The pirate's head snapped back, and he crumpled to the floor before he could even register the attack. The shot passed right over T'Liana's head as she looked at him, a testament to his quick reflexes and her proximity.

Before either of them could react, a third pirate emerged from the shadows, flanking them. M'Sara, a blur of motion, dropped from the ceiling vent above, landing in a crouch. She transitioned her carbine back to standard combat mode with practiced ease, then leapt forward, sliding on her knee pads across the polished floor. She fired a short, controlled burst, the plasma bolts impacting the pirate's chest, sending him staggering backwards.

T'Liana, without hesitation, tackled Thomas to the ground, shielding him with her body as a hail of plasma fire whizzed overhead. The impact knocked the air from his lungs, and he landed heavily on his back, T'Liana's weight pinning him down, he felt pain in his thigh.

M'Sara, pivoting on her heel, unleashed another burst, the plasma bolts finding their mark on the last remaining pirate, obliterating his face. The mess hall fell silent, save for the crackling of spent energy and the ragged breaths of the marines.

Thomas lay there, momentarily stunned, staring up into T'Liana's face. She was still sprawled over him, her weight surprisingly comforting. Her amber eyes, usually sharp and focused, were clouded with… something else. A flicker of concern? Something deeper? She wasn't looking at the carnage around them, or checking for other threats. She was looking at him.

T'Liana blinked then gently rolled off Thomas, her movements fluid and precise as she pushed herself upright. She extended a hand toward him, her expression a mix of concern and determination. "Okay?" she asked in a low voice, her Katzen accent faintly rough.

Thomas nodded, wincing slightly as he took her hand-paw. He allowed himself to lean on her for support, his arm wrapping around her shoulders as she pulled him up. Despite the height difference, her strength was evident, and he steadied himself against her solid frame. "Leg's a bit bruised," he admitted, flexing it gingerly.

T'Liana's claws dug gently into Thomas's armor plates as she steadied him, her feline frame taut with effort. Despite her being a third of a meter shorter, her grip was unyielding, her amber eyes locked onto his face. Thomas winced, his free hand pressing into the bruise on his upper thigh—the aftereffect of her knee connecting to deflect the pirate's strike. "Easy," she growled, her Katzen accent thick, as she slid her hand-paw under his arm to lift him fully. Thomas's arm hooked around her shoulders, his grip firm, leaning into her warmth despite the sting of his injury. Her fur, usually a sleek chestnut with black-tipped spades, was matted with sweat and flecks of pirate blood, but she didn't flinch under his weight.

"Stupid human," she muttered in Katzen, her voice softening imperceptibly as she adjusted his stance. A flick of her tail—usually a rigid banner of focus—curled briefly toward him, a flicker of something unspoken.

M'Sara approached, her cobalt-blue eyes scanning Thomas's leg. "Walk it off," she said, patting his armored thigh. "You've had worse." Her own suit was scorched, but her tone was light, a deliberate attempt to cut through the tension. Behind them, the mess hall was a tableau of chaos: colonists huddled on the floor, some weeping, others staring in stunned silence, while marines methodically checked corners and bulkheads for stragglers. The scent of ionized air and blood hung heavy.

As the rest of the marine squad efficiently swept the mess hall and kitchen, securing the area and beginning to organize the shaken colonists, K'Tharr approached. He surveyed the scene with a practiced eye, then addressed the group.

K'Tharr's growled orders crackled over the comms. "Clear a way to the bridge and secure the perimeter. Four of you—T'Liana, stay sharp—keep watch here. The rest of you hunt the rest of the vermin." The towering Togartz's striped tail lashed as he turned, his pauldron clanking. The three Löwe marines and T'Liana fell into formation, their carbines slung in low ready.

As the remaining marines departed, T'Liana shifted, her left hand-paw still resting on Thomas's shoulder. She didn't remove it. "Stay close," she said, her voice a low rumble. The Katzen colonists watched in silence, their fear tempered by the marines' presence.

The low static of the comms crackled, then a crisp, efficient voice cut through. "Squad Leader, all clear. Path to the bridge is secure. No further resistance encountered."

K'Tharr exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing marginally. "Good. Maintain vigilance. Sweep the decks thoroughly. Report anything… anything… unusual." He paused, his amber eyes sweeping over the huddled forms of the rescued colonists. "Now," he said, turning to Thomas, M'Sara, and T'Liana, "we need to find those younglings. The colonists haven't mentioned them, but it's unlikely they were left to fend for themselves. Thomas, M'Sara, you're with T'Liana. You two are the best at slicing into systems. Get back into the computer core, re-examine the ship's manifest, security logs, everything. Look for any record of children, their designated quarters, anything. T'Liana, you're with them. Keep them safe. Your instincts are sharp; I want you to be their eyes and ears."

T'Liana's ears perked forward, a low rumble of acknowledgement in her chest. She shifted her weight, her gaze already scanning the corridor, protective and alert.

The return trip to the computer core was thankfully less chaotic. A few lone pirates, likely stragglers who'd evaded the initial sweeps, attempted ambushes, but T'Liana dispatched them with brutal efficiency. A snarl ripped from her throat with each takedown, her movements a blur of claws and carbine fire. She moved with a predatory grace, her eyes constantly scanning for threats, her body coiled and ready to spring.

The trio moved swiftly through the corridors, their boots echoing on the metal floors. T'Liana led the way, her eyes sharp and alert. The air was thick with tension, each step a reminder of the danger still lurking.

Suddenly, a lone pirate emerged from a shadowy alcove, weapon raised. Without hesitation, T'Liana lunged, her movements fluid and precise. With a swift kick, she disarmed him, then delivered a decisive blow that sent him crashing into the wall.

"Stay sharp," she growled, her voice low but commanding.

Thomas and M'Sara nodded, their eyes scanning the surroundings as they followed closely behind.

They reached the computer core without further incident. Thomas and M'Sara immediately set to work, their fingers flying across the consoles, their faces illuminated by the flickering screens. They fell into a familiar rhythm, working in sync, their combined expertise cutting through layers of security and data.

T'Liana positioned herself at the entrance, her back to the wall, carbine raised. She scanned the corridor, her ears twitching, her senses on high alert. She wasn't just guarding the entrance; she was guarding them. Her gaze flickered between the corridor and the backs of the two engineers, a silent promise of protection. She was a predator in her element, a watchful guardian, and her presence filled the small room with a quiet, focused intensity.

Thomas and M'Sara crouched side by side in the dimly lit computer core room, their vambrace holograms casting overlapping streams of code and security firewalls into the air between them. The room, a claustrophobic labyrinth of servers and pirate-modified consoles, hummed with the low whine of strained systems. Sweat beaded on Thomas's brow despite the ship's frigid air rec, his fingers flying across the holographic interface as he bypassed a cascading encryption wall. M'Sara's cobalt-blue eyes glowed faintly in the gloom, her claws tapping impatiently against her vambrace as she muttered Katzen curses under her breath.

"Here," she hissed, pointing a gloved hand-paw at a fragmented data string. "They didn't just delete files—they shredded the logs. This isn't standard pirate sloppiness. They're hiding something specific."

Thomas, brow furrowed in concentration, manipulated a complex algorithm with deft fingers, his vambrace projecting a three-dimensional rendering of the ship's security architecture. He was peeling back layers of obfuscation, tracing the digital fingerprints of the pirates who had tampered with the system. M'Sara, meanwhile, was a master of data recovery, her vambrace displaying a fragmented timeline of deleted files. She was meticulously reconstructing corrupted code, piecing together the puzzle of what the pirates had tried to hide.

"They were thorough," M'Sara muttered, her voice tight with frustration. "Multiple layers of encryption, data scrubbing… they really didn't want anyone finding this."

"They underestimated us," Thomas replied, his fingers flying across the holographic interface. "Almost there… I'm bypassing the final firewall."

An hour blurred into a relentless cycle of coding, analyzing, and reconstructing. The room was silent save for the soft hum of the computers and the occasional muttered curse. Finally, a breakthrough.

"Got it!" Thomas exclaimed, a surge of relief washing over his face. "I've recovered enough data to confirm it. They removed the younglings. Before we even arrived in system."

M'Sara's eyes widened as she cross-referenced the data with her own findings. "Confirmed. They weren't hiding them on the ship. They were loaded onto a transport… a destroyer, judging by the ship manifest."

The room felt airless. Thomas's hands shook as he uploaded every recoverable byte into their vambraces, the data now a weight on their arms. M'Sara's claws dug into the console. "They're taking them to their base. A destroyer left the system hours before we arrived. The pirates never intended to hold the ship—they just needed it as a… a harvesting station."

A grim silence descended. The realization of what had happened – the abduction of innocent children – hung heavy in the air.

"They plan to sell them," M'Sara said, her voice barely a whisper. "Slaves. They are going to sell the younglings at their base."

"No location," Thomas said, frustration creeping back into his voice. "They scrubbed any reference to the base's coordinates. Clever bastards."

"We have a ship ID, though," M'Sara pointed out. "And a general direction of travel. It's something. We can give K'Thurr something to work with."

They exited the computer core, their faces etched with grim determination. The walk back to the mess hall felt longer than it should. When they arrived, K'Tharr was standing near the entrance, overseeing the care of the rescued colonists. He turned as they approached, his amber eyes assessing their expressions.

"Report," he rumbled, his voice devoid of emotion.

Thomas stepped forward, activating the holographic display on his vambrace. A complex web of data materialized in the air, showcasing the recovered ship manifests, transport logs, and the deleted security footage.

"The pirates removed the Katzen younglings before our arrival," Thomas explained, his voice steady despite the weight of the information. "They loaded them onto a destroyer and transported them to their base. They are to be sold as slaves."

K'Tharr's ears flattened against his head, a rare display of emotion. He studied the data, his gaze sweeping across the holographic display.

"No location?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

"They scrubbed it," M'Sara replied. "But we have the ship ID and a general direction of travel. It's a start. We can use the data from the Aetheria trackers to find it."

It is a Start

M'Sara stood in the dimly lit mess hall, her cobalt blue eyes reflecting the sorrow etched into every face around her. The air was thick with grief, a heavy silence that seemed to press down on everyone present. She knelt beside an elderly Katzen colonist, her hand gently resting on his shoulder. Her fur bristled slightly as she fought back the surge of anger and despair that threatened to overwhelm her.

Hundreds of Katzen colonists, huddled on the floor, were a tapestry of fear and exhaustion. Their eyes, once bright with the hope of a new life, were now clouded with a grief that mirrored the emptiness of their lost young. M'Sara moved amongst them like a phantom, her usually vibrant energy dimmed to a somber glow. She offered what comfort she could – a gentle touch to a trembling shoulder, a murmured word of reassurance, a shared look of understanding that acknowledged the unbearable weight of their loss.

"Do you know where they took them?" the colonist asked in Katzen, his voice trembling. M'Sara shook her head, her ears drooping. "We're doing everything we can," she reassured him, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "We'll find them."

She moved through the crowd, offering words of comfort and reassurance to each colonist. Her tail flicked nervously as she scanned the room, searching for any clues or signs that might lead them to the missing children. Thomas was by her side, his expression somber as he helped organize the survivors.

T'Liana lingered nearby, her protective instincts ever-present. She kept a watchful eye on M'Sara and Thomas, ensuring they weren't overwhelmed by the emotional weight of the situation. When M'Sara paused to catch her breath, T'Liana placed a reassuring hand-paw on her shoulder, her claws gently digging into the armor as if to say, We're in this together.

M'Sara nodded appreciatively, drawing strength from their camaraderie. She turned back to the colonists, her resolve hardening. "We need to gather any information that might help us track them," she announced, her voice firm but compassionate. "Let's work together."

The room buzzed with activity as they began compiling data and piecing together clues. M'Sara and Thomas worked side by side, their holographic computers glowing faintly as they cross-referenced logs and communications. T'Liana stood guard, her carbine at the ready, though her gaze softened when it fell on the colonists.

As the hours passed, the mood in the mess hall shifted from despair to determination. M'Sara's leadership inspired others to take action, and soon teams were formed to search for any hidden clues or messages that might reveal the pirates' destination.

Despite the progress, the loss of the children lingered heavily in everyone's hearts. M'Sara paused occasionally to close her eyes. Her bond with Thomas grew stronger through this shared pain, and together they became a beacon of hope for the colonists.

But even as she performed the motions of solace, M'Sara felt their grief to the bone. It wasn't just empathy; it was a visceral connection, a mirroring of their pain within her own soul. The thought of those stolen younglings, ripped from their families and destined for a life of slavery, was a physical ache in her chest. She paused beside an elderly Löwe female, her fur streaked with grey, who was rocking back and forth, silently weeping. M'Sara knelt, placing a hand-paw on the elder's arm, and closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment to share the burden of sorrow. It was a small gesture, but it was all she could offer.

Thomas, though visibly shaken, worked alongside her, offering practical assistance. He helped distribute nutrient paste and water, his movements efficient and purposeful, a way to channel his own distress. He spoke softly to the colonists, offering words of hope, but even he struggled to maintain a facade of optimism. The sheer scale of the tragedy was overwhelming.

T'Liana, however, was a whirlwind of focused energy. She didn't offer gentle comfort or soothing words. Instead, she moved with a fierce protectiveness, her amber eyes scanning the room, alert for any sign of distress or panic. She efficiently organized the colonists, directing them to designated areas, ensuring they had access to supplies, and maintaining a firm, unwavering presence. It wasn't warmth she offered, but security – a promise that she would stand guard against any further harm. She kept glancing at Thomas, her gaze lingering on his face, a silent question in her eyes.

An hour crawled by, filled with quiet murmurs, stifled sobs, and the weight of unspoken grief. Then, a crackle over K'Tharr's comms broke the silence. "Captain, we've swept the entire ship. Found the crew… in the aeroponics room. All deceased."

K'Tharr's jaw tightened. He relayed the grim news to Captain Valerius on the Hegh'ta, his voice devoid of emotion. The captain's response was swift and decisive. "Understood. We're sending over technicians and medics to assist with essential systems. CAW Command has been informed. They'll dispatch a replacement crew. You and your team, return to the Hegh'ta. We'll handle things from here."

The news, while necessary, felt like a further blow. It meant abandoning the colonists, leaving them to grapple with their loss and rebuild their lives without the support they deserved. But K'Tharr knew Valerius was right. They had done what they could, and now it was time to let the professionals take over.

As they made their way back to the Hegh'ta, a heavy silence descended upon the group. M'Sara walked with her head bowed, her gaze fixed on the floor. She kept replaying the faces of the colonists in her mind, the pain etched on their features. She knew she would carry their grief with her for a long time to come.

Thomas, walking beside her, reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. "It's okay to feel this, M'Sara."

She nodded, unable to speak.

T'Liana, walking slightly behind them, kept glancing back at the mess hall, her expression unreadable. She seemed to be wrestling with her own demons, her anger and sorrow warring within her.

The thought of visiting D'Ressa in the Hegh'ta's medbay offered a small measure of comfort. It was a reminder that even in the face of such tragedy, there was still hope, still a reason to keep fighting. But as they stepped back onto the docking tube, the weight of their mission, the stolen younglings, and the suffering they had witnessed, settled upon them like a shroud. They were returning to the Hegh'ta, but a part of them would remain on that desolate colony ship, forever haunted by the ghosts of those lost children.

Upon returning to the Hegh'ta, the atmosphere was somber but relieved. The crew welcomed them back, their features etched with concern for D'Ressa. M'Sara's resolve hardened; she would not rest until the younglings were found and rescued, a mission that now burned brighter than ever in her heart.

M'Sara stood on the observation deck, staring at the data on her vambrace—the recovered logs detailing the stolen young. The pirates had erased coordinates, but not everything.

Thomas joined her, his reflection overlaid in the viewport. "We'll find them," he said, not for the first time.

M'Sara nodded, her tail curling around her legs in a gesture of restraint. The grief was raw, but beneath it burned something sharper: purpose. The Katzen were survivors, and she would see every last youngling rescued, even if it cost her everything.

T'Liana's voice cut through the silence, in gruff Katzen but tender: "We'll hunt them down. Together." Her ears twitched, a rare flicker of vulnerability in her gaze.