“Hold,” the team leader ordered. “HQ can replace the shuttle, but we won’t know what they were after or who they sent until we get this guy back to them.”

  I can tell you who sent me, Lewis thought, trying to see what was happening through the door, and what they were after.

  He didn’t say it, though…and wondered if he’d actually tell them, if it came to it. How long could he hold out, if what he’d already had was just a warm-up?

  “They’re cutting through,” came the alarmed cry.

  “Yeah, I can see that,” their leader snapped back. “Now tell me something I don’t know.”

  “They’re coming in through the back.”

  Now that he mentioned it, his back was getting a little warm. Lewis tried shuffled forward, attempting to get away from the heat, now he’d registered it.

  He froze as the guard strode over to him.

  “Stay still!” the man snarled, seizing him by the shoulders of the suit and hauling him away from the wall to dump him against the rear of the cargo compartment.

  Lewis tensed, relieved to find the few moments of respite had given him the strength to move.

  Who knows? If I sit here long enough, I might even be able to get to my feet, he mused.

  He wriggled experimentally, glad to feel his legs responding. For a minute, he debated between pulling his knees close to his chest, or staying still and not letting his captors know he was starting to recover, then he figured they were busy enough it didn’t matter.

  Besides, if their attackers were here to rescue him, the last thing he wanted was a broken leg from being stepped on. He shifted his legs, tucking his feet close to his rump and bending his knees so they rested against his chest.

  The movement attracted a cursory glance from the guard and Lewis flinched from his gaze. His reaction drew a mirthless grimace from the guard, but the man was more interested in the slowly brightening hull, and he relaxed.

  There was no way of stopping what was coming, but at least he wasn’t completely helpless. He waited, watching with the guards as a molten line drew itself around the hull. Just as it drew to completion, the guards slammed their boots in the center of the hull, shoving the broken metal out and down onto the men outside.

  The forward hatch went the same way.

  Startled cries met their attack, but they weren’t the only ones with a plan. The team leader threw himself against the wall as a burst of solids came through the gap showing that at least one of their attackers had foreseen the possibility. As they leapt through the hull, blaster bolts tore into them and they dropped.

  Shouts from the front were followed by the sound of more blaster fire, as the guards divided into two groups. One of the two in the back dropped to his belly on the cargo floor and began firing through the hole in the hull. His partner was joined by two more, and they crouched beside the gap, waiting for him to signal the all clear.

  One glanced over at Lewis, checking what he was doing. When he saw Lewis wasn’t doing anything, he turned back to the hull.

  “Oliver?” Lewis tried.

  This time the implant didn’t flash red, and he realized he was no longer being jammed. Maybe that’s why the beating had been so thorough…

  To his surprise, Oliver answered, “Hang in, there, bro. We’re coming.”

  “You’re here?” Closing his eyes, and trying to keep all expression from his face, Lewis waited.

  This time, it wasn’t Oliver that spoke. “Stay where you are.”

  The woman’s voice was hard, and Lewis froze.

  “Who is this?”

  “And stay off the line. We’re busy out here.”

  Well, that told him.

  Blaster fire cut the air and Lewis opened his eyes. The two guards who’d been crouching by the gap had gone through it to take their attackers head on. It made Lewis wish he’d seen how they fared.

  “Keep your eyes open,” Oliver instructed. “We need to see the set-up inside.”

  “Gotcha,” Lewis managed, and wondered when the guards would notice.

  He was also glad he was able to help, without having to get up. His legs still felt like rubber and his lungs felt compressed. Shifting slightly, he arched his back, hissing against the tightness and tearing that resulted.

  “Turn your head to the right,” the woman commanded, and Lewis complied.

  There was only one guard left in the passenger compartment. He was standing by the remains of the door, but glanced over as Lewis lifted his head. When Lewis didn’t move, he went back to watching the fight.

  The only other guard in the shuttle, was the one on overwatch on the floor of the rear compartment…five feet away.

  “I need you to distract them,” the woman instructed.

  She what?

  “Unless you want to spend more time with them,” she added.

  Oh, hell, no!

  Lewis pushed to his feet, huffing against the pain and sliding his back up the wall. That got the attention of the guy at the door.

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  “Sit down!” he ordered, after snapping a quick look over his shoulder.

  His gun remained pointed outward, and Lewis heard sporadic firing.

  “Oh, very nice,” the woman purred. “Now, see what you can do about the guy on the floor in front of you.”

  Lewis stayed where he was, letting his body catch up. He didn’t see what he could do to distract the guards further…except maybe fall on the one closest.

  Well…it was a plan…

  “Hurry,” the woman ordered, and Lewis didn’t know if she approved of his plan, or just needed him to do something.

  He pushed away from the wall, and the man at the door gave a startled oath.

  “Down!” he shouted, turning toward him and bringing his gun to bear. “Get! Down!”

  Lewis took another step just as he caught a flash of movement just beyond the hole.

  “Now! Now! Now!” the woman screamed and Lewis took two rapid steps forward.

  The guy on the floor felt the vibrations and rolled, and the guy at the door fired.

  Lewis threw himself forward, and the guy on the floor rolled onto his back fired, too.

  Just once, but it was enough.

  The solid tore through Lewis’s already abused abdomen and ripped out through his back, leaving a slew of destruction in its wake. The shots from the guy on the door slammed into his shoulder and side, and he fell.

  He barely heard the woman’s approval, as he landed.

  “Perfect.”

  Like Hell it is! Lewis thought, hearing another staccato burst from outside. That one sounded nearer.

  Numbness spread through him, and he shivered.

  Shock’s setting in, he thought, as the guy he’d landed on threw him off.

  The impact of hitting the floor again, brought a temporary curtain of black, but Lewis fought to stay on the side of wakefulness. Blood made the inside of the suit sticky, and he wished he had some way of covering the hole in his stomach.

  The world dipped into gray.

  “Stay with me,” Oliver urged, “I’m coming.”

  “I’ll try…” Lewis promised, and hoped he’d be able to deliver.

  “You’d damned well better, bro,” Oliver retorted. “Where are you?”

  Lewis thought that was a stupid question, but he answered anyway. “In back.”

  A short burst of fire ended with a strangled cry and a thud. It was followed by rapid footsteps that shook the small craft. Lewis drew a hissing breath against the pain of their approach, listening as the guard nearest him, turned.

  This is gonna hurt…

  A roar accompanied the next burst of gunfire, and he was relieved not to feel anything else slam into him. The guard slumped to stillness, and Lewis tried to focus on the much larger form coming at him from the front.

  Not that he could do anything about it. His body felt both heavy, and like it was floating, and the ceiling wouldn’t come into focus. Neither would Oliver’s face, as his friend knelt beside him. His features were a mix of wolf and man.

  “I need a medic,” Lewis told him, and Oliver nodded.

  “One’s coming.”

  The female commander put the lie to that almost immediately. “Just get him out of there. We’ll tank him when we get back to base.”

  “He’s not going to last that long.”

  “His implant will.”

  “Bastards,” Oliver muttered, slapping quick-patches over the holes in Lewis’s suit, before sliding his arms under Lewis’s inert form.

  “F…furry,” Lewis managed, and Oliver gave him a sharp look

  “Now what have I told you about calling me that?”

  “Hafta be quick…” Lewis told him, meaning he wasn’t going to last much longer, not that Oliver would have any trouble catching his meaning.

  “Hang in there, bro,” the were urged. “I’ve got you.”

  “Yussss,” Lewis slurred, as pain caught his breath.

  “Hang in there,” Oliver ordered. “You die on me and I’m gonna find you and kill you myself.”

  Lewis wanted to laugh, but he faded out instead. When he faded back in, he was still in Oliver’s arms as the were pounded across the lunar surface toward the nearest out-building at the shuttle port.

  “Not far…” Lewis whispered, referring to where the shuttle had been brought down and his friend glanced down.

  “Just out of range of the port,” Oliver told him, and Lewis closed his eyes, again.

  The next time he opened them, he was in a corridor he didn’t recognize. The walls were a dull tan and not all the overhead lights were working, but that didn’t worry Oliver who still sported his were-form and didn’t seem to care.

  Lewis scowled. Going through Lunar One in that shape was frowned on, not officially forbidden, but as close to as didn’t matter. How much trouble were they in that his friend would risk the kind of censorship that would bring?

  Oliver glanced at the doors and cross-corridors they passed and then glanced down.

  “Still with me?” There was blood on Oliver’s muzzle, and Lewis wondered where it had come from.

  Had he missed another fight?

  “Just,” Lewis managed, surprised by the faintness of his own voice.

  “Not far now,” Oliver assured him and Lewis drifted into the grey.

  He woke to the feel of his clothes being hurriedly removed, and the sound of someone wielding scissors. People bustled around him, and the face above him was new. A tremor ran through his limbs as he tried to escape, but his body wouldn’t respond.

  The face frowned. “Stay still. We’ll have you in a tank, soon. You got me?”

  Lewis blinked, tried to nod, closed his eyes.

  When he opened them, again, it was dark, not the darkness of night or a dimmed room, but the pitch black of enclosure, as if he was entombed. His heart sped up and he flailed at the fluid around him, breathing easily in spite of it.

  Lights came on, small and dim and outlining the lid of the tank above him. Oliver’s voice sounded clearly in his implant.

  “Easy, bro. You’re all right.”

  “Ollie?”

  No bubbles escaped Lewis’s mouth as he echoed the word out loud. Sound vibrated through the regen fluid.

  “You’re in a tank, Lew. Healing.”

  In a tank… Lewis started to relax. Maybe he wasn’t going to die, after all, but where…

  “Not a question you should be asking, bro. Now, go back to sleep.”

  Lewis stilled, blinking as he fought to control his fear, to accept he was safe and that Oliver was outside the tank and looking out for him.

  “I’m here, bro, but I’ve got to organize a coupla things. I need you to rest and not scare the doc while I’m gone. He’s not good with children.”

  That stopped him. “Children? Who are you calling a child?”

  Oliver chuckled. “You’re fighting your bedtime, aren’t you?”

  Lewis groaned and rolled his eyes.

  “I saw that. Now, get some rest. We’re all paid up and we’ve got an emergency account in case I’m delayed. Doc’ll take care of you.”

  “Doc…” Lewis acknowledged, but the flavor of the fluid around him changed and he was drifting.

  Damned sedative. “You better come back for me.”

  “Promise,” Oliver said, the word sinking through Lewis’s fading consciousness. “Now, sleep for me.”

  A sense of command infused that phrase, and Lewis obeyed. He didn’t hear the exchange as Oliver stepped away from the monitor, and looked at Doc Nielsen.

  “You’ve got forty-eight hours,” the doc told him, “and then we’ll tap the next account.”

  Oliver nodded. “Do what you need to, doc. Just get him fit enough to travel.”

  “The bite will see to that, and you gave me enough for the rest,” the doctor assured him, then cocked his head. “You have the list?”

  Oliver held up his data pad. “I’ll see who I can find.”

  He tucked the tablet inside his fatigues and turned to go, only to have Nielsen lay a hand on his arm.

  “Why don’t you change first?” the man suggested, and Oliver looked down, registering the blood on his clothes.

  “You know a good tailor?” he quipped, and the doc rolled his eyes.

  “Your clothes, yes, but I was referring to your body. You’ll draw too much attention as you are.”

  He wrapped a gentle hand around Oliver’s wrist and raised it so the were could see his own fur-covered hand and ivory claws.

  “Oh…” Oliver focused for a moment, and with a crackle and snap of tendon and bone, shifted back to human form.

  He looked down at his uniform.

  “Now, I really am going to need a change of clothes.”

  The doctor gave him a thin-lipped smile. “We took the liberty,” he said, signaling to one of his assistants.

  The man gave them a startled glance and hurried out of the room, returning moments later with a plastic-wrapped set of fatigues and a new pair of boots.

  Oliver looked from the clothing to the doctor. “How much?”