Bobbie Ray ignored Reoh’s request to rest, and he rushed the older cadet back to the spot where they had descended into the canyon.

Nev Reoh tried to pull away. “If we follow this canyon, we should meet up with the one below the sick‑camp.”

“No, we need to get higher,” Bobbie Ray insisted. “We’re easy targets down here.”

“It will take extra time to climb to the top,” Nev Reoh said patiently. “Can’t we follow the canyon a little ways to where the walls aren’t so high?”

Bobbie Ray wasn’t looking forward to scaling the cliffs either, but he wasn’t in the mood for arguments. “I’m not leaving our ropes here.”

“Why not? We’ll have to come back again to get more water. We’ve got three more days left of the survival test.” Before Bobbie Ray could veto his suggestion, the Bajoran added, “And if we can find a way through the bottom of the canyon, we can carry Puller here. That way we won’t have to keep taking the water to him.”

The threat of having to plod back and forth every day between the sick‑camp and the seep was enough to make Bobbie Ray agree. But as they made their way down the canyons, he kept a wary eye out for the stalker.

Nev Reoh kept pointing to rock outcroppings and shimmering heat distortions, asking Bobbie Ray what they were. The Rex mostly ignored the Bajoran, focusing outward, refusing to believe that, like Reoh, his own paranoia was making him see and hear things.

The first warning came almost subliminally, a subtle whine carried with the wind. Then a distant wail that rose and sustained, raising the hackles on his neck.

Reoh’s eyes grew round as Bobbie Ray tensed, instinctively bracing himself for an attack as the wail ended in a shriek.

“What was that–” Reoh started to ask.

“Hsst!”Bobbie Ray cut him off with one firm swipe of a paw just millimeters from his face. Nev Reoh looked as if he swallowed his own tongue, but he was quiet.

Bobbie Ray paced around the other cadet in a tight circle, looking upward as another wail began to rise, echoing back and forth against the canyon walls. His tail kept twitching and his fur told him there was something moving nearby, but they saw nothing.

After that, it was easy to convince Reoh that they should take to higher ground. The nearby wall was fortunately broken down at the confluence of the two canyons. Bobbie Ray could have scrambled up in minutes, but he had to go slowly and practically drag Reoh to the top of the plateau. They kept the canyon close by so they could see into the bottom–both to make sure there was nothing moving down there, and to see if it was possible to transport Puller to the seep.

They reached the edge of the plateau directly across from the sick‑camp just before sunset. Signaling to the others that their mission had been successful, they started down into the ravine. Near the bottom, as Ijen was descending to help them carry the canteens, she suddenly screamed and put her hand over her mouth.

Silhouetted on the plateau above them, against the ruddy sky, was a massive, hulking form, pacing from side to side as only a hungry animal would. A low wail began to rise again, sending a shiver response down Bobbie Ray’s back. They couldn’t see what it was, but it slowly rose on its hind legs, lifting its arms as if in attack position.

“It’s huge,” Nev Reoh whispered in fright.

As the wail rose to that distinctive, soul‑shrinking shriek, Bobbie Ray could only agree. “Maybe that’s why we haven’t found Starsa.”

“Don’t say that!” Nev Reoh quickly denied. Ijen joined them in the bottom, panting in fear as she stared up at the plateau where they had been not long before.

All three cadets scrambled up the opposite wall as fast as they could to the sick‑camp. They weren’t sure if the silhouette could reach them before they made it to their ledge, and they didn’t know how many companions it might have.

“What else could have happened to her?” Bobbie Ray asked Reoh on their way up. “She’s either lying at the bottom of one of these canyons, like Puller, or . . .” he drawled, nodding toward the disappearing silhouette. “We better make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to us.”

They reached the camp, where Reeves was using a scope to see across the ridge. As the last light was fading from the sky, Bobbie Ray seized the scope from Reeves, focusing on the lurking silhouette. It took a moment for the image to clearly resolve, and then he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“It looks like him,”Reeves said ominously, pulling away from Bobbie Ray.

“Like who?” Nev Reoh asked, not understanding.

Bobbie Ray lowered the scope, feeling dazed. “It’s another Rex.”

Starsa couldn’t go very far with the stasis restraint locked around her ankle, keeping her within a couple of meters of the Rex. He never paid much attention to her, seemingly content with having her nearby as they hiked over the rough desert and started climbing down into one of the ever‑present canyons.

She had tried talking to this Rex, as well as the other Rex who regularly appeared and disappeared as they descended to the bottom. But without universal translators, they couldn’t understand her. She could understand a few words of what they were saying, but the problem was, they didn’t speak very much. Mostly they seemed to communicate through body movements and subtle posturing that she couldn’t begin to understand.

She had been captured remarkably easily, giving herself up before she realized the Rex had hostile intent. Her first night had been spent alone, curled up between several boulders on the edge of the largest plateau, wondering where Bobbie Ray Jefferson and Nev Reoh could have possibly disappeared to.

When she woke in the morning, the Rex was leaning over her, and at first she had smiled in greeting, saying, “Bobbie Ray! I’m so glad you found me.”

But it wasn’t Bobbie Ray, and the Rex had clamped one sharp‑clawed hand around her ankle, locking on the stasis restraint before she knew what was happening.

Once they reached the bottom of the canyon, the Rex took her to a space shuttle that was stashed out of sight in the bottom of the canyon. He locked the stasis restraint to one of the bunks while he and his partner went exploring. Starsa could hear the wails and cries of the other Rex over the comm and with the words her universal translator could understand, it sounded as if the other Rex shuttles had drawn off the Starfleet cadet ship. She wasn’t sure if they had attacked the ship, but from the viciousness of their language, she wouldn’t have been surprised.

One thing she knew, these Rex weren’t anything like Bobbie Ray. They looked alike–tall, broad‑shouldered, with blondish‑orange fur. But these Rex wore their hair longer, teased up in decorative tufts. Their teeth also seemed bigger, and their claws were much longer, sharpened to a microfine point.

At first they went out and explored the terrain together, and she could see them through the view portal at the front end of the shuttle, curved and offering a nearly 300‑degree view around the sides of the shuttle. The Rex ventured out in ever‑widening circles, starting off and returning to home base, as if extremely cautious about leaving her there.

Starsa was mesmerized by the view, but it was also incredibly disorienting. After several hours, she actually had to turn around, it had given her such an ungodly headache. By then the Rex had begun to split up and disappear for longer periods of time.

Starsa absurdly wished one of them would stay. She hated being alone. Her one night on the rocks had been the longest amount of time she had ever been completely by herself.

On Oppalassa, her homeworld, no one was ever alone. She came from one of the most crowded environments in the galaxy, averaging almost 100,000 people per square mile on the islands that were scattered through the shallow seas. But her people had been living under those conditions for seven centuries. She missed having her extended family just beyond the walls around her, but the Academy Quads were so similar that her heart, as well as her body, had soon gotten over her first fierce bout of homesickness.