They had taken Lady Devora as close as they dared to the area of space near the black hole seeking a suitable planetoid to execute their plan. By all reports the demon had completed constructing a ship of his own. It must be of an enormous size by now, though it had been impossible to get a read on any such ship. The last message received from the doomed BakoNaat ship described a monstrous ship which appeared out of dead space to ambush their vessel. The distress call was cut off before a more detailed description could be sent, the ship yet another unfortunate victim. The demon must have cloaked his ship using the same technology employed by the BakoNaat. He would have full access to all of their arcane secrets after assimilating them.

"That one over there looks perfect," Widhbo said.

"I don't like it," Munaci scowled. "I can find a more suitable planetoid."

"Don't be a silly ape, Munaci. That one is in the correct weight class, has good alignment and the right mineral signature. It's perfect," Widhbo insisted.

"I'm keeping a mental tab of each insubordinate comment you make," Munaci warned.

"I'm surprised you can count that high. This is going to be a long trip, Munaci. I suppose you could keep track with claw marks on the table and let Cratus tally them when the mission is done."

"Yes, Anakron's going to need a new table anyway," Hal said, running his hand over a fresh scar in the finish. "This one is trashed."

Yoeke snickered and Cratus pretended to busy himself with refueling calculations.

"You're right. It's impossible to count that far. It could fry my circuitry. I'll just recommend suspension and hibernation for all parties concerned. Much simpler." Munaci said before he growled and walked away.

"It's my project. I get to decide which planetoid we choose," Widhbo proclaimed. "Isn't that right, Lieutenant?"

"That's my understanding, yes," Cratus replied. "Munaci knows that too. He's in charge of the ship, not the mission as such."

"That would make Widhbo the science officer wouldn't it Cratus?" Hal asked.

"Technically, I suppose it would."

"Do I get a rank?" Widhbo practically hopped up and down in his Magiton body.

"No, you don't get a rank," Yoeke said. "You'll never get a Tor sector rank of any sort. You're an alien, Widhbo. You don't rank here."

"That was mean, Yoeke," Hal said.

"It's the truth," Yoeke said smugly.

"It doesn’t matter. You told a mean truth, Yoeke," Widhbo said. "My turn. You don't know how to swim. You'll never learn because you're afraid of the water."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are... "

" Warp to the location chosen by that vile bird after we refuel, Lieutenant." Munaci said returning to the bridge. "And find a way to shut off the prattling. I've heard draping a thick cloth over their head to block the light shuts them down."

"Actually, that might work," Yoeke said. "It's worth a try."

Widhbo's magiton body disappeared. They could still hear him telepathically.

"I don't prattle. I'm the lonely voice of genius on this ship," Widhbo said. "I do admit to being disruptive at times."

"The Colonel had it right," Yoeke said. "Vile bird."

"I'll take that as a compliment. And Munaci should know. He is the walking definition of vile."

* * *

They approached the planetoid escorted by two tamaroo stealth fighters who had volunteered to monitor the surrounding space for any sign of irregularities which might indicate the demon was approaching. By the time a gravity wave could be detected it may be too late. The tamaroo were using every trick in their arsenal but there was scarcely any useful data to help them.

"Time to bring up the shield, Widhbo," Hal said. "Let's hope this thing works."

"It'll work. I'm an expert on shielding now," Widhbo said.

They landed the Lady Devora at a makeshift space port erected by the BakoNaat near the mining encampment. A gridwork of power stations ringed the planetoid and peppered the side facing the direction the demon should be.

If the demon detects this operation before it's up and running,there will be no escape," Hal said.

"That's why I chose this location. We need to set up out here before we get too close," Widhbo made a few last-minute calculations. "Would you like to push the button, Colonel?" he asked.

"Certainly not," Munaci replied. "If anything goes wrong, I want it on someone else's head, not mine."

"Very well. I did ask. You could have claimed the glory of this moment."

"I'll do it. What's one more claw mark on my record?" Hal pushed the control button. "Counting down... "

"Bethon owes me extra pay for this hopeless assignment, Cratus," Munaci complained. "It's bad enough I have to contend with his loathsome pets; a cocky newborn and alien bird creature, but now the lizards of leisure are here. Look at them lounging about, drinking their fill. They've done this so many times the mining operation is entirely automated."

"I bet their ships have a control lever that says, 'mine and wine'," Yoeke said. "If you don't care, I think I'll go over and join them."

"By all means go and take the human with you."

"I'd like to take a look at the mining set up," Hal said.

"It's the wine I'm after," Yoeke said. "I'll have a couple of drinks for you, Widhbo. And a few for Nova. So sad he couldn't be here. I hope he's having a grand time being the laughingstock of Tor Academy."

"I never took Nova for the studious type," Cratus said.

"He's smart enough, just not academically inclined," Widhbo said. "I have no idea why Balvendro took him on."

"To test his own patience, a penance perhaps," Yoeke said. "Maybe this is how ancients punish themselves, taking on intolerable creatures like Nova. Pure misery. I'd rather have a kick in the ribs any day."

The countdown sequence was complete, and Hal pushed the launch button. "Looks at that. The shield just went live, boys."

"How do we test it?" Munaci asked.

"With our lives, Colonel," Hal said.

* * *

Yoeke and Hal were given a warm welcome by the BakoNaat colony rapidly being established on the planetoid. The two other Garwolvens, Borgg and Rovan, came with them to enjoy the fun. Apparently, Queen Etaine was in a good mood and had ordered everyone to celebrate, even those not currently on Erizza. Mortal BakoNaat personnel had been issued suits with oxygen concentrators to wear on the open surface in the thin atmosphere. A few domed dormitories and domestic buildings were being erected which would be pressurized. Large mole like machines were turning and throwing out clods of rock and dirt, kicking up large clouds of dust occasionally when they hit a sandy vein in the crust. Foundations for an industrial center to manufacture the rockets were being laid. Everything was coming together incredibly fast considering not a soul was working, mechs doing it all.

"I say I would have won if Anakron hadn't interfered," Borgg said.

"You still licking that old wound?" Hal asked.

"I could have whipped him," Borgg insisted. "I almost had him."

"Yeah, I saw you on his back with your teeth sinking into his neck... oh wait, that was Nova on your back," Hal said. He finished off his flask of wine going back for a refill.

"Anakron did you a favor, Borgg," Yoeke said. "You're on your fifth regen cycle now, If Nova had finished you off, you'd be in the tank."

"Rub it in why don't you?" Rovan said, slogging toward them through a pile of rocks with two cases of wine strapped to his back.

"He brought it up," Yoeke said. "Where do they find room for any other supplies with all that wine in their cargo holds, I wonder?"

"Maybe they've found a way around the exclusion principle. How the hell do I know?" Rovan said. "Unload me before I'm crushed under the weight of this, Hal."

"Two cases?" Borgg asked.

"One for now and one for when we wake up," Rovan said, grinning stupidly.

"What happens after the fifth regen cycle, Yoeke?" Hal asked as he unloaded the wine.

"Seriously?" Yoeke spewed back with his mouth full. "Didn't Lord Anakron teach you poor beggars the basics before allowing you to roam the galaxy and duel with a demon?"

"Guess not."

"It's one of the ancient's foundation rules, from the Rules of Reformation over a thousand years ago," Yoeke explained. "But you weren't even born then, were you?"

"I remember, Admiral Bethon saying his mind was like… what did he call it? Oh, yes a bog." Rovan said pointing to Hal's head. "You're not ready for educating yet. Lord Anakron would be wise not to waste his time with you."

"I may be the youngest sucker here, but I can hold my liquor better than any of you," Hal retorted. "You're drunk already, Rovan."

"I thought that was the point." Rovan said. "You should look at me as your role model, human pup."

"On you sixth regeneration cycle the ancients scrub, filter and reform your program," Yoeke said. "They assume you're doing something wrong, or you wouldn't be there. Rumors are you're never the same after they've done with you."

"What about Bethon's reformations?" Hal asked.

"He's never required regeneration. All his reformations were live. I hear it's rather painful when coupled with retribution, sort of a negative reinforcement loop."

"How many times has he been?"

"Who knows? I lost count centuries ago," Yoeke said. "You think he's difficult now? You have no idea. He made Munaci look like the flower girl at a wedding."

"You've never seen a flower girl," Borgg said snorting.

"I've seen pictures. They're all sweetness and light." Yoeke said He danced a few steps pretending to toss flowers from a basket.

Hal laughed. "Now every time I look at Munaci, I'll imagine him wearing a dress, tossing out rose petals and sunbeams."

“Better slow down on the wine, Hal. You’re more drunk that you know.” Yoeke said