"Q-q-queenling," the marine said, fumbling for his rifle. He wore the usual hulking metal armor that was far too large for his small Yumen body. It had motor-enhanced strength to help him carry his bulk and move with agility, but that didn't help improve his jittery hands.

Arachna, in contrast, reacted with renewed focus. Clasping the laser saw with her newly formed frontal hands, she switched it on. A beam of blue light extended from the device, which vibrated in her hands.

"What in the void?" the marine said, raising his rifle. He bent his knees and adjusted his feet in order to bear the recoil from the rifle fire, but as he did he slipped on the soppy wet floor and landed squarely on his rear end with a loud thud. The splash of the water coated his armor with white foam.

"Gonzalez," another marine called out. Arachna recognized the man's voice as Rodriguez from a few days earlier. "What in the void's gotten into you, marine?"

"K-k-krath," he shouted, struggling and failing to pick himself up. The yumen known as Gonzalez only managed to fall down again and again, landing twice more on the wet ground. It was particularly noisy given the bulk of his outfit. He did, however, manage to slide backward out of the closet. "It's got h-h-hands."

"Weapons free," Rodriguez shouted, loudly. Arachna could not see him but could hear his approach followed by the three other marines. "On me."

Arachna raised the saw and then dropped it. This was not good. She couldn't possibly take on five armed marines with something like that. Horde, she hadn't even had time to raise a web. What was she going to do?

"Activate crampons," Rodriguez said. Spikes emerged from the bottom of his boots, keeping his stance solid as he stormed into the closet.

Please Hive Mother, Arachna thought to herself. She needed her stealth cloak to work. It was now or never. If these marines saw her, she was dead. Focusing on the room, she visualized her body becoming transparent and disappearing from sight.

Meanwhile, the active laser saw flickered on and off on the ground, soaked with soapy wet water. Gradually, it gave out, the water short-circuiting some internal mechanism.

Rodriguez entered, scanning the closet, his eyes looking through every corner. For a moment he stared directly at Arachna, where she clung to the wall, and paused.

Her twin hearts froze.

"There's nothing here, Gonzo," Rodriguez said. "You idiot. What did you do now?"

Gonzalez still lay on the floor, having given up trying to stand in the soppy wetness. He sat up. "It was a queenling. Holding a laser saw." He pointed at the broken laser saw on the ground. A red light pulsed, indicating that it was in need of repair.

Arachna breathed a sigh of relief. Her stealth was working. Somehow, she'd managed to activate her rifter cloak, once again when her life was at stake.

But how would she ward off these pesky Yumens? An idea popped into her mind.

"I don't see anything here, Gonzo," Rodriguez said. "Are you sure you saw something?"

Doubt, she thought, transmitting a single thought into the Yumen known as Rodriguez's mind. Disbelief.

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She sensed that this particular Yumen was not nearly as sensitive to her psionic abilities as had been the others she'd influenced. The marine known as Burke and the chef known as Rupert were borderline psionics themselves, but it was worth a try. She sensed Rodriguez was already distrustful of the other marine, so she would play on his preexisting mindset.

"Yes," Gonzo, pleading. "I know what I saw. It was a queen holding that laser saw."

Don't believe him, Arachna projected to Rodriguez.

"With hands?" Rodriguez said, incredulously. "You want me to believe that Krath can have hands now and use laser saws? Man, what are you on?"

"I swear," Gonzalez said.

"The fear is getting to you," Rodriguez said. "I can hear it in your voice. You're scared."

"Okay," Gonzalez said. "Maybe I am scared. But you've seen what these Krath can do? We haven't dealt with these critters in generations. Not really anyway. We should be scared of them. We all know the stories."

Maybe this one had some common sense, Arachna thought. Finally, a Yumen that she actually agreed with.

"I'm sending you to the Medica," Rodriguez said. "Maybe they can give you some stims or something to deal with your — panic attack. It has you seeing things."

"No, not the Medica," Gonzalez said, his voice elevating. If he had been afraid before, his fear had just been amplified. "Please, I'll keep my mouth shut. I promise. Don't send me there."

Rodriguez tilted his head, considering the soldier's plea. He paused. "Fine," he said. "But keep your trap shut and clean this place up. Not sure how you managed to spill a bucket of soap and break a laser saw. Those things are valuable you know. Bring it down to the machinery for repair afterward."

"Yes, sir," Gonzalez said. He stood up, activated his crampons, and got to work.

"What's going on here?" a third marine asked, arriving at the scene. Arachna recognized him as the marine known as Johnson.

"Nothing," Rodriguez said. "Gonzo here was just being clumsy as usual. But he's taking care of it."

Johnson nodded, placing his hands on his hips. His metal suit glistened in the violet light of the engine room as he watched Gonzalez work. "If I had a mind to, Gonzalez, I'd say you should spend a night in the brig for being so clumsy, but apparently it's getting full down there."

"What do you mean?" Rodriguez said, scratching his head with his enormous gauntleted hand.

"Burke's spending time for abandoning his post," Johnson said. "Took off outta here, spooked by Krath. Says he was hearing voices. It was either the brig or the Medica and he chose the brig."

Rodriguez eyed Gonzalez, knowingly. He'd just done him a big favor. Gonzalez nodded in appreciation.

"Then there's Head Chef Rupert," Johnson said.

"Big Cheffy?" Rodriguez said. "Love that guy. Great cook. What happened to him?"

"You hear what happened at Commander Rip's little soirée?" Johnson asked, his eyes gleaming.

"No," Rodriguez said, his head perked. "But now I want to know."

"Toxic pies," Johnson said. "Everyone was puking their guts out by the end of the party. Medica sent in the hazmats while they sorted it out. Eventually, they traced it back to the pies."

"Pies?" Rodriguez said. "What in the void? Who poisons pies?"

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Johnson said. "But apparently someone put ultra-strong cleaning chemicals in the pies. Must've been some sort of sick joke."

"Yikes," Rodriguez said grimacing, then smiling. "Can't say I wouldn't have loved to watch though."

Johnson's lips curled upward and he winked. "True," he said. "Gotta give Big Cheffy some credit. To stick it to the commander like that. If he even did it. Could've been anyone of the culinary staff but he's the one responsible and he made the pies."

"Too bad he got caught," Rodriguez said. "Voiding Medica had to get to the bottom of things."

"Yeah," Johnson said. "Quality of food will go down now without Big Cheffy Rupert."

"Between that and the piles of trash everywhere this is turning out to be quite the trip," Rodriguez said.

"And let's not forget the loose dactyl we still have to track down," Johnson said. "At least they're sending a rifter to help out. Will make quick work of that thing."

"Let's hope so," Rodriguez said. "For all our sakes."

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