Fair Dreamstar!
Her corridors sparkle gold,
where the dreams of all unfold.
Right here in Fair Dreamstar!

daddy, please vake up.

The stars burned fire, as the glittering structure was caught in a terrible criss cross of lancing energy. Like a barrage of fell ravens, the Others tore through the Frontier, seeking Dreamstar Station's blood. No warning, no quarter, just the shattering of the ancient barriers, like an angry sea bursting over a sand castle wall, one moment safe and strong, the next torn asunder. It can be counted in heartbeats, from the time the stations defenses opened up, a cloud of protective firepower, until until it became all too obvious that it was but a pale voice drowning before a hurricane.

it so lout vas, daddy. vhen ta alarms scream't ant home jump't like vhen we pounce you ant momma. momma titn't efen finish her daddy come home hugs, ant daddy still of starships feel, ant again home jump't, ant again, ant again, ant daddy, you and momma tit't even blink, but your ears so flat vere, our hants grabb't, tarkvin ant me, ant ta outsite was a crowt of so many furrs, all of scare't ant their eyes so vite. aunt telia ant tan, rushing furrs all in nighthawk clothes ant mishka too, all so fast ant lout, so many lights a flashing. So little ve vere, but momma's hant i holt, for momma voult nefer let go.

Like glimpses of a midnight starscape seen in the brief flash of lightning, slowly the station sundered and split. A glimpse, and like desperate fireflies, escape pods and lifeboats jettison, many weaving, many scattered, many whose breath of safety was only a handful of extra heartbeats before cut down like fleeing rats. A flash, wanting the sound of thunder, as a desperate capital ship dies, its back broken, bright blue stars dashing out in electric arcs. Another blink, as a dread troop carrer slams against Dreamstar's structure like a starving leech, its bite awash with broken segments of hullmetal and cabling. Bits of frost jet out here and there, as station sections are cored, venting air and water and unprotected lives out into the dark. And inside ...

lost ant scare't ant so many stairs daddy. vhy can we not ta little lift take, but up up up ve must climb. tarkvin so hart not to cry he tries, brafe fishie hunter tarkvin. ant ve help momma, vhen she stumbles ant momma holts on, alvays looking up, safe for vhen over her shoulter she looks for daddy. oh daddy, daddy has pretty tashka-mouse in his arms, each step a half trip, tashka hartly breaths ant his jacket all a splatter't vith ret is.

And inside the smell of panic is harsher than the acrid smoke charging the collasping ventilation systems. Huge bulkheads slam down, unstoppable, deadly, separating families and friends, dividing refugee from victims as the grim and unforgiving docking latches cycle and scream, the massive star station breaking up, to run, to flee, its component sectors separating from its core and backbone. Add to that the darker shadows, the rattle combat armour and the sharp vicious bark of firearms, the predators now inside Dreamstar's heart, determined not to lose even the smallest soul to their bloody wild hunt.

go go go, vhy daddy, vhy couldn't ve go go go?

It was the last bulkhead, the last hatchway, the last broken docking latch. Drying blood streaks the portal, and carbon scoring scars the walls. A she-wolf in a black surcoat lies like a broken toy across the open hatchway, barely recognizable any more. The only Dreamstar security left were barely past being pups, their brand new Cygnian uniforms torn and stained, one by one dying, and knowing it was hopeless but they just had to try, for the interloping predators had reached the last bulkhead, the last hatchway, the last docking latch and as long as they held the Dreamstar habitation dome was locked to the station's core, like a pretty butterfly staked with a steel spike in a hungry collector's display case.

Oh daddy, don't you knov tarkvin ant i can hear, vhen your eyes meet momma's ant you tell her you lofe her so?

The ragged gray vulf turned, and his long jacket snapped. Battered and stained, weatherworn and torn, its patchwork surface was a reminder of a history long past but impossible to forget. He had never claimed to be more than a dockworker, and a mediocre one at that. One thing he did do well, but that he didn't do any more. He didn't do anymore until he swept up a fallen handgun from the bloody deckplates and through the bulkhead stepped.

oh momma your hand gripp't so hart ant we coult feel each bark ov thunter. daddy, oh daddy, you titn't stop efen vhen ta colt gun vent click click click, just another to take up. One heartbeat, tvo, ant mother scream't your name vhen you fell back ant dash't across tha floor vas, ant it your blood vas that paint't ta valls ov Dreamstar home. but you got up, daddy. daddy back up got. that scare't them. daddy alvays you alvays got back up ...

Silence, hot and so very harsh. He just let the gun drop, unable to tell where their blood ended and his begun. But a broken lock, a mundane latching mechanism. That was a proper task for a simple dockworker. Stong arms vulfhandled the releases, overiding gutted and sparking automatics. He managed one glance up, as the maunual control wheel swung free, and telltales snapped from red to green. It was obvious, that he knew, as he leaned into the wheel and the hatchway closed and the habitation dome set free, from the beginning, that he would be on the wrong side of the bulkhead.

my hand is so small, and crafty it is, and i have to slip mothers hand to run to help daddy. daddy can't you see?

A loving mother screams in horror.

daddy look out, so many!

A picture in an exhibition, an aceldama photograph. The torn vulf, eyes closed as he slowly turns the heavy wheel, his daughter, just a pup, running forward on little legs yelling look, look, look, not realizing past the threshold she bolted. A second pack of predators arriving, seeking both vengence and to reclaim their prize. But the continual roar of gunfire was lost when that last hatchway closed, the whush of its seals and the hot rumble of the stations emergency thrusters tearing the dome loose more final than the slam of a hammer on a coffin's last nail.

ve ran. ve ran. metal scream't ant tore ant all daddy voult say is that i voult all right be, i voult all right be, but daddy coult hartly speak, ant daddy's legs kept failing ant he voult fall, ant i had to pull him down the stairs or try my best to daddy holt, ant he voult just tumble ant i coult hear vith my sharp ears daddy break against ta cold metal landings. Ant it vas so lout, vhen he voult blink ant reach up, instinct, not thinking anymore, ant ta gun roar't, ant one of them voult fall, so close, daddy, oh daddy, ton't protect me, just valk, just valk, lil' me be all right, you promise't...

In the darkest depths of the station, she waited. Fresh from Novo Novosiberesk she was, having stumbled into the carnage, the little unarmoured and unarmed freighter sat quiet as the docks collapsed about her. Inside, her automatic routines kept watch, mirroring the broken station's alarm, bringing her systems online one at a time.

myra, auntie myra, help daddy, help daddy please...

He was sprawled across the gridded deckplates, pale, soaked in a sea of red. "Myra, jump..."

The ship's computer answered, her voice even and soft. "You cannot jump from here. It is either too hazardous or totally uncharted."

"Myra, jump...

"You cannot jump from here. It is either too hazardous or totally uncharted."

A last whisper, breath sparkled with a spray of blood. "For Krysti, Myra...."

daddy?

The crimson emergency lights flickered. Once. Twice. They cast brilliant rotating swaths, colouring the bitter deckplates and dull metal walls in a bloody wash.

your coat around me is vrapp't daddy. all big ant heafy ant see, my pavs ton't efen half vay tovn ta sleefes they reach. look daddy, your eyes open, please. its your coat daddy, ta one i tug on ant flovers ant sparkly stones in ta pockets for you ta hite, me, all up in your coat. i cannot ever ever in your coat be hurt.

The station tore apart, and there was a flash of fire and brittle metals. There should have been a roar, a cacscade of noise, a cry when Dreamstar Station died.

Instead there was only silence.