'No sign of it, sir.' Crook hesitated. 'Captain, do you want the creature's body brought back to the ship?'

'I don't think that will be necessary, Crook.'

Silas Cadwell quickly interrupted, 'It might be a good opportunity to study the beast, sir.'

Lawrence looked unsure, but the Doctor agreed with Cadwell, 'A thorough examination would be invaluable, Captain.'

Lawrence shrugged. 'Very well. Bring it back, Crook, and put it in one of the cargo cells.' Something struck Lawrence and he narrowed his eyes at the Doctor. 'What's your interest in it?'

The Doctor smiled disarmingly. 'I can a.s.sure you my interest in that creature is purely professional.'

'Make a study of s.p.a.ce monsters, do you?' Lawrence asked.

'I'm quite the expert.'

'Very well, we've got time I suppose.'

'I'd like to examine the creature as well,' Cadwell announced. Lawrence didn't seem surprised. 'My 2IC won't be satisfied the thing's really dead until he's seen it for himself,' he told the others with good humour. 'You can go with Cadwell, Doctor.'

Crook had two of his men carry the Bloodhunter's corpse all the way back to the Adamantium. Adamantium. He had hoped Lawrence would simply have it destroyed; that seemed the most sensible option to Crook. Who'd want to study a repulsive little brute like this? He had hoped Lawrence would simply have it destroyed; that seemed the most sensible option to Crook. Who'd want to study a repulsive little brute like this?

He opened the door to the cargo cell and stepped back so that the crewmen could throw the body inside. It hit the decking like a lump of old rubber.

It was roughly humanoid, hairless, with skin the colour of raw meat. There were blaster burns all over the body, many of them weeping a thick, clear jelly. It had long, powerful arms that ended in big, clawed hands. The fingers tapered to bony points. But its face... well, Crook doubted this thing had ever had a mother, but if it did then even its mother wouldn't have loved it. The head was little more than a fleshy stump on the round shoulders, with a cl.u.s.ter of eyes that had been burned away by blaster fire. Beneath the wound was some kind of organ, or group of organs, which looked to Crook like a nest of dead snakes.

'Ugly as sin,' commented one of the men.

'Hold on a mo',' said the other crewman. 'I thought I saw it move then?

'Rubbish,' Crook said. 'Just a nervous twitch, probably.'

'How can you be sure?'

Crook shook his head. 'It's dead,' dead,' he said firmly. 'Watch' he said firmly. 'Watch'

Crook stepped across the holding cell and kicked the corpse, hard.

The Doctor followed Silas Cadwell down the Adamantium's corridors, utterly failing to engage the man in any small talk.

Compliments about the ship, the captain, even the neatness of Cadwell's own very smart uniform, all fell on deaf ears.

Eventually, Cadwell turned and cast a disparaging look at the Doctor. 'You don't fool me,' he told him.

'I haven't actually been trying to fool you,' the Doctor said. 'Sorry.'

'I know your kind,' Cadwell said with a sneer. 'Rogue trader. I have another name for you: pirate. Freebooter.

Parasite.'

'Well I've always tried to be a good all-rounder.'

'If I were Captain Lawrence, I'd have you thrown off the ship.'

'It's so nice to feel welcome.'

Cadwell shot the Doctor an icy look and walked on. 'This way.'

They reached a low doorway marked CARGO CELL 2 and hit the b.u.t.ton. The door slid away and the Doctor caught his breath. 'Oh no.'

Lying in the cell were three human corpses, all in Consortium uniform, all nothing more than withered, shrunken skeletons. The badge on one of the uniform tunics read Lt Crook.

Chapter Twelve.

'Impossible!' thundered Lawrence.

'Evidently not,' Silas Cadwell responded. 'Sir.'

Lawrence gave him a black look. 'All three three of them, dead? You're certain?' of them, dead? You're certain?'

Cadwell nodded, and the Doctor said, 'I'm afraid so. They never stood a chance.'

Lawrence suddenly looked a lot older than his forty-five years. Ashen-faced, he lowered himself into the captain's command chair. When he finally looked up at his 2IC and the Doctor, his eyes were haunted and he asked only one question: 'How?'

Cadwell said, 'The creature, the "Bloodhunter" as the Doctor called it, could not have been quite as dead as Crook and his men believed. They must have been mistaken in their a.n.a.lysis of the thing's ability to resist blaster fire. It's the only possible explanation.'

'No it isn't,' the Doctor contradicted him. 'It's perfectly feasible that the creature was dead. All that's happened is that it's come back to life.'

'That is nonsense,' Lawrence stated bluntly.

'Is it? You're forgetting that the Bloodhunter is a life-form derived entirely from research into suspended-animation techniques. It was generated from material that can enter into a voluntary state of metabolic paralysis.' The Doctor met Lawrence's disbelieving stare. All right, perhaps it wasn't technically technically dead; perhaps it was merely in some kind of self-induced cellular stasis. But to all intents and purposes, it was no longer truly dead; perhaps it was merely in some kind of self-induced cellular stasis. But to all intents and purposes, it was no longer truly alive.' alive.'

'The exact reason for its resurrection is quite academic,'

Cadwell said.

'The important question is: what should we do now?'

'Track it down and kill it,' Lawrence said. 'Properly, this time.'

'That may not be possible,' the Doctor said.

'Why not? We've tracked it before, using the ship's sensors.'

'We've also killed it before. It's shown every sign of being indestructible.'

Lawrence rubbed a hand slowly down his face. 'I don't care, we've got to try. I owe it to Del Crook and his men to at least d.a.m.n well try!'

'Sir,' said Cadwell, straightening. 'I'm ready to lead the hunting party, Captain, personally.'

Lawrence stood up. 'Very good, Cadwell. I'm glad to see I can rely on you.'

'I'd like to come with you, if I may,' the Doctor said.

Cadwell seemed on the point of refusing outright, but hesitated. He looked to Lawrence for his decision.

'Finding that creature is vital,' the Doctor added.

Lawrence noticed that the Doctor specifically omitted to say that killing it killing it was also vital. Lawrence didn't like that, but the Doctor's att.i.tude intrigued him. As a test, he said, 'I could just take your original advice and evacuate the moon. Leave the wretched creature to its own ghastly devices.' was also vital. Lawrence didn't like that, but the Doctor's att.i.tude intrigued him. As a test, he said, 'I could just take your original advice and evacuate the moon. Leave the wretched creature to its own ghastly devices.'

'Then I would insist on staying here with it,' the Doctor told him.

'I'm not sure what your real interest in all this is, Doctor,'

Lawrence said eventually, 'but frankly I'm past caring. I want that thing found and destroyed. destroyed. What you do with it then is your own affair. I'll leave the decision to Cadwell.' What you do with it then is your own affair. I'll leave the decision to Cadwell.'

The Doctor looked immediately to Cadwell, who, after a short pause, nodded curtly.

'Thank you,' the Doctor said.

Lawrence left the bridge soon after that, unable to stomach any more. He went immediately to his personal cabin and locked the door behind him. Taking a small flask from his desk, he poured himself a stiff drink.

He had never before had to contend with the unexpected death of a single crewmember, let alone three at once. He felt miserable and lost. There was the lexium to consider as well: Lawrence knew where his duty to the Consortium lay, but somehow he had to deal with this incident first.

For, the first time since taking command of the Adamantium, Adamantium, Lawrence felt a surge of fear: the fear of making the wrong decision. After a minute, and another drink, there was a knock at the door. Lawrence told it to open and Jyl Stoker came in. 'Thought I'd find you here,' she said. Lawrence felt a surge of fear: the fear of making the wrong decision. After a minute, and another drink, there was a knock at the door. Lawrence told it to open and Jyl Stoker came in. 'Thought I'd find you here,' she said.

Lawrence looked at her. 'Why?'

'Because I followed you from the bridge, if you must know.'

If she was expecting him to smile, then she was mistaken. 'Three men!' he said fiercely. 'How could that happen? Three men, killed just like that!' that!' He snapped his fingers angrily. He snapped his fingers angrily.

'I know it's not much consolation, and it certainly won't bring them back, but I do know how you feel.'

Lawrence shot her a sceptical look.

'No, really,' Stoker insisted. 'Don't forget I lost three of my my men men to that thing before you even arrived.' to that thing before you even arrived.'

'Your men?' Lawrence's blue eyes were like chips of ice. Lawrence's blue eyes were like chips of ice.

'Will you have to contact their families and tell them the news?'

'Well, no,' Stoker admitted. 'But were Crook and his men friends friends of yours?' of yours?'

Lawrence took a deep breath. 'All right, Jyl. You've earned yourself a drink.' He poured her a shot into a second gla.s.s and handed it to her.

'Kalazak brandy?' Stoker said as she sniffed the contents. 'Don't tell me it's too hard for you.'

'I hope it burns,' she replied, giving him the traditional Kalazak salute and downing the drink in one without taking her eyes off him.

'I hope it burns too,' he replied softly. For a few seconds they stood in silence, then Lawrence said, 'Look at us: back right where we started.'

'Not quite. We were kids then and neither of us knew anything' He smiled faintly.

'I meant we were rivals then, and we're still rivals now.

Doing the same thing on opposite sides of the dividing line.'

Stoker seemed puzzled. 'You admit we're doing the same things?'

'I admit there's a dividing line. But think about it: we're both opposites in many ways. You're fiery and unorthodox.

I'm... conventional.'