Commander Melina Kim wanted to be the first one on the ship. Unfortunately a meeting with Admiral Brooks had made that impossible. Now, she was running late and barely had enough time to situate herself before they had to undock.

She stopped outside the airlock of the D.S.S. White Rabbit, her ship and soaked it in. Her ship. Taking a deep breath she plunged in through the door

“Commander Kim, welcome aboard.” A middle-aged man met her at the door. He stood rigid as he saluted. His hairline was receding and what was left of it was turning gray, two problems that could easily have been taken care of. It probably meant the man either didn’t care or he thought it would make him look more commanding. He was taller than her by a good couple of inches and had a stocky build that had more than likely only recently started turning to flab. His uniform had the orange shoulders and sleeves of the command division and the insignia of a lieutenant-commander. The Commander knew exactly who this man was.

“Lieutenant Commander Bill Folsum,” she said returning the salute. She couldn’t help but add a large smile of her own.

“Yes, sir.”

Melina offered her hand. “You can call me Mel.”

“No, sir,” the man said looking worriedly at the offered hand.

Melina’s smile shrank as she retrieved her hand. “Is there a problem, Lieutenant?”

“No, sir.”

“Then why won’t you shake my hand, Bill?”

“If I can be candid, sir?”

“By all means.”

“No one on this vessel is going to call you Mel or Melina and no one is going to shake your hand. I’m going to see to that. Seeing as how this is your first command and you’re both young and green, I don’t think it would be in the best interest of this ship for you to be so informal. When this crew sees you as the commander first and a person second, then and only then can you attempt that kind of familiarity.”

Melina scratched her head. “Am I allowed to call you Bill?”

“You’re the commander, Commander.”

Melina couldn’t help but grin. “So, I guess that means you’re here to hold my hand, huh, Bill. Metaphorically, of course.”

“I’m just trying to help out, sir.”

“Great. So, why don’t you help out and take me to the bridge?”

“Would you like to see your quarters first, sir?”

“I assume my luggage has already arrived.”

“Yes, sir. We took the liberty of bringing your things to your quarters.”

“Good. Then there’s no reason to go there. Now...the bridge.”

Folsum allowed himself a smirk. “As you wish, Commander.”

“So,” Melina said as they started walking, “what can you tell me about the crew?”

“You’ve read the files?”

“Oh, I’ve read them, but what can you tell me, Bill.”

Folsum nodded approvingly. “Well, Commander, as you know this is a small crew with several senior officers and the rest of the crew is fresh from the academy. Lieutenant Commander Zog...”

“Zog?”

“Yes, sir. He’s Klitheras.”

“I know that, Bill. I just thought his name was Thrikilzog.”

“It is, Commander. He just likes to be called Zog. He doesn’t like how we mispronounce his name. Figures we can’t screw up Zog.”

“So, how does a Klitheras work on a spaceship? Isn’t he too big?”

“Well, he did help design the ship so he made the chief engineer’s room connected directly to the engine room. That way, he’ll be the first one there if there’s an emergency.”

“How does he eat? How can he get to the mess?”

“He can’t. He takes his meals in his room. He has his own refrigeration unit.”

“Is it safe for him there?”

“Oh, yes, sir. Zog took into consideration all possibilities. His room is able to be sealed up so that it can withstand almost any eventuality save for maybe a direct attack from some enemy vessel.”

“There were only two other engineers on the roster. Is that right?”

“Yes, sir. With as many arms as he’s got, Zog doesn’t need much help. The only reason there’s two is that he needs someone to be watching the engine while he’s sleeping. Fortunately, he doesn’t need much sleep.”

“What’s not much?”

“Four hours normally does it.”

They turned down a corridor. “The other crew member that worked on the project,” Folsum continued, “is Lieutenant Commander Anne Henson, your chief science officer. She filled the roster spots Zog left open.”

“Nice woman?”

“I wouldn’t say nice.”

“What would you say, Lieutenant?”

Folsum hesitated. “Serious. Analytical. Good problem solver.”

“Cold.”

Melina noticed her first officer give her a ’you’re-right-but-you-didn’t-hear-it-from-me’ look. “She’s a typical scientist.”

“Yeah, we had a couple of those on the Hawking. A lot of the absent-minded professor types, too. We don’t have any of those on this ship, do we?”

“No, sir,” the lieutenant commander responded all too seriously. “Those types are not allowed as officers on a starship, sir. If you can’t be a productive member of the crew, you don’t get on the ship.”

He continued, “You’re going to need a strong hand with her. She doesn’t respond too well to kindness. She sees weakness and disdains it. You need to be commanding with her.”

“So, she’s my main problem?”

“No. That would be the Chief Tactical Officer, Lieutenant Commander Dominic Oak.”

“Another Lieutenant Commander?” Melina chuckled softly. “No wonder I got the promotion. Otherwise no one would listen to me.”

“Otherwise,” Folsum replied as they came to the elevator, “you wouldn’t be the highest ranking officer, you’d be fifth.”

“There’s that, too.”

Folsum pressed the button. “You’re going to have to be very careful with Oak. He’s very aggressive and prone to taking charge in battle.”

“Well, good thing we’re not going to see too much of that then, huh?” Melina said with a smile.

“Commander,” Folsum responded seriously, “if you’re not expecting this vessel to be in any firefights, then maybe you’re not the right person for the job.”

“I understand the possibility exists, Bill, but they’re not going to knowingly send us into any situation where things can get too hairy. Not only would it compromise this mission, but it would also be just stupid. We’re not armed to take on any real dangerous threats. We’re not going into any war zones. We’re going to the border of uncharted space. Sure, they’ll be trouble, but if High Command thought there’d be any serious problems, they wouldn’t send us out alone.”

The elevator door opened. “As long as we’re alone, I don’t expect to face any real problems,” Melina said as she stepped into the car.

“Maybe, Commander, but my warning still holds,” Folsum said as he entered the car. “No matter the severity, Oak will be eager to step into the roll of commander. And if he does, we’ll be in grave danger.” He paused to address the elevator. “Bridge.”

The doors closed and the first officer continued. “He has willingly endangered several ships in various confrontations in his eagerness to fight.”

“Is that why he’s here?” the commander asked. “As a punishment?”

“Perhaps as a last chance. Be wary of him, Commander. And don’t take any of his crap.”

“Noted.”

“I guess that brings us to Lieutenant Helena. Helena serves as both Chief Medical officer and Ship Counselor.”

“Helena? I thought it was pronounced H’lena?”

“It is, but Helena doesn’t really care. I guess it’s just the empath in her.”

“Is she really capable of being the Chief Medical Officer? I mean we only have, what, two nurses.”

“She’s a doctor first. She just served four years on the D.S.S. Gabriel as the assistant medical officer. She’s our counselor to save room. The higher ups assumed because she was a Gamapoid that she could handle it.”

“And can she?”

“As far as I can tell. Hopefully, she won’t be busy with either of her jobs.”

“Elevator hold,” Melina called. “Almost there. Anything else, Lieutenant?”

“That takes care of your senior staff. The rest of the crew is top flight, all hand picked to be part of the team.”

“No problems with any of them.”

The XO hesitated. “There is one. Your senior helmsman.”

“Ensign London?”

“That’s the one. You read his report?”

“This is about him getting kicked out of the academy?”

“This is about how he’s trying to show everyone that he won’t make that kind of mistake again. He overcompensates. He takes unnecessary risks.”

“Sounds like he and Mr. Oak are a perfect match.”

“Exactly, Commander. That’s why you have to stay strong. No handshakes, no smiles, no ’call me Mel.’”

Melina laughed. “Hopefully, Bill, you won’t be so serious all the time.”

“Hopefully, Commander, I won’t have to be.”

“I’ll second that. We ready?”

“You’re the commander.”

“Elevator, continue.”

The doors opened up to the bridge. It wasn’t the first time she’d ever been on a bridge. Not even close. It wasn’t even a very impressive bridge, but it was the first one that was hers. She felt a wave of glee flow through her. However, she didn’t have to worry about hiding a large grin because her little moment was interrupted by a loud, “Captain on the bridge!”

That must be Lieutenant Commander Oak, she thought to herself.

The entire bridge crew stood and saluted. Commander Kim returned them and then stepped onto the bridge. She was about to say something cute, like ’sorry, I’m late,’ but she stopped herself. Commanding. She must be commanding. But first things first. “Computer: Initiate New Captain Protocols.”

“New Captain protocols initiated,” the computer replied in its level monotone. “Name of new captain.”

“Commander Melina Kim. Charlie-347-Alpha-Tango-9320.”

“Identity verified. Current captain: None. Appointment by Spacefleet High Commander. Verified. Verification complete. Transfer of captaincy to Commander Melina Kim. Complete.”

Melina almost laughed with glee, but she squashed the impulse as soon as it popped up. “Get me the engine room.”

The front screen switched from a frontal outside view to that of a large sickly yellow creature. “Engine room.”

“Lieutenant Commander Zog.”

“Commander Kim,” the Klitheras saluted with one of his many tentacled arms. “I hear you’ve just been verified.”

“I hope the announcement didn’t interrupt your preparations, Lieutenant?”

“No, sir.” The gelatinous creature smiled. “We’re all set down here.”

“Good. Then prepare for take off, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.”

The screen returned to the outside view. Commander Kim turned to the Comms officer. “Ensign Park, inform the station that we’re ready to head out.”

“Yes, sir,” the young officer said.

The commander then moved toward the front of the bridge toward the helmsman. “Ensign London.”

“Sir?” the young man replied turning in his seat.

“As soon as you have clearance, take us out.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied eagerly.

Commander Kim walked to her chair and sat down. It wasn’t the first time she had ever sat in the captain’s chair. As First Officer on the D.S.S. Stephen Hawking, she had sat in the chair many, many times. Even before that, she had spent time in the chair when she was just a lieutenant as a night shift commander. But this time was different. This was the first time it was hers. She couldn’t help but smile.

Folsum took his seat beside her.

She leaned over and whispered, “How am I doing?”

“No mutiny yet.”

“What are we doing here?”

“Finding out our next mission, Ignacio.” Cochitta replied.

“Yeah? And what’s that?” the man asked impatiently.

“I don’t know. We haven’t found out yet.”

The other men laughed at Ignacio, but Cochitta did not. It had been a difficult journey for them to get here. It had been a hard life since the occupation had begun. That was why he had joined the Kapelle and that was why they were here. They had flown under cover, staying away from the higher trafficked routes, taking the long way around to reach this out of the way planetoid. It had once been considered to be a mining planet, but it turned out to not be worth the effort, making it perfect for their uses.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Ma-chett said as she leaned in holding his arm. “We’ll find out what Rivers is planning soon enough.”

Cochitta looked at Ma-chett. He could never get over how human she looked. She was Lakoran, but besides the odd ridges that ran from the bridge of her nose up to her hairline, there were few differences between her people and his. Appearance-wise at least. “I just don’t like not knowing. What right does Rivers have bossing us around like this? If I wanted to be ordered around, I would have stayed with the Alliance,” he grumbled.

“The movement needs leaders,” Ma-chett replied. “And you’re one of them, ’Chitta. If you don’t like the plan, tell him.”

“Tell him,” the man laughed. “All I can say is he had better have my ship ready.”

“Time to find out.”

The crew disembarked. “Everyone wait, out here,” Cochitta commanded as he and Ma-chett entered the abandoned mining facility. After passing several guards, they were ushered into a meeting room where Casey Rivers was waiting. He was not alone. “Who’s this?” Cochitta asked.

“Nice to see you, too,” Rivers replied.

“Casey, I’ve just been stuck on a transport ship with fifty other people for five weeks. I’m not in the mood to dick around.”

Rivers nodded. “Fine, ’Chitta. This is Sam Williams. He’s your new chief engineer.”

“Chief engineer? I’ve got engineers, Casey. What do I need him for?”

“Because he’s the one that upgraded your ship.”

“She’s here?” Cochitta replied eagerly.

“Yes. It is.”

“What’d he do to her?” he asked, suspiciously eying the new man.

“He upgraded it. We were able to get a better temporal field generator. It can go up to 5X now.”

“One more? Alliance ships can all do six. Dasscarrion transports do five.”

“Well, we’re not the Alliance and we’re not the Dasscarrions. We also upgraded your weaponry. Your cannons can now do twice the damage.”

“If the ship is working,” Ma-chett asked, sitting on the table, “what do we need him for.”

“To make sure it keeps working. It’s not exactly new.”

“And the plan?” Cochitta asked, tiring of the discussion. “You do have a plan, Casey. Right?”

“Yes, we do, ’Chitta. We do indeed. What we’re going to need from you is to distract a Nebula-class starship.”

“What?” Cochitta shouted.

To which Ma-chett added, “Are you insane?”

Rivers continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “We should be able to amass a twenty ship fleet for you to command. The Alliance has ten of these ships, four of which are near our intended target. Hopefully, this will keep the Alliance from being able to send more than one of those against us. We’ll probably still lose our operatives, but we should be able to achieve the objective.”

“And what’s the objective?” Cochitta asked.

“You know better than that. Separate cells. No one knows too much, no one can give away too much.”

Cochitta clenched his teeth, but he didn’t argue. “And how am I supposed to get the attention of a Nebula-class starship?”

“We’ve already taken care of that. They think we’ve got a fleet of fifty ships meeting up.”

“Fifty? The Alliance is going to send more than a single ship after us, even if it is a Nebula starship. They might send up to six or seven ships. How do you expect us to occupy them? We’ll be slaughtered in minutes.”

“I have faith in you,” Rivers said including the new engineer. Cochitta frowned at that. There was something he wasn’t being told, but he would find out. Hopefully, before it was too late.

Jane Renard nervously tapped her finger on the table. She was waiting for Captain Auguste Tournesol. Though a captain herself, Captain Tournesol was something else. He was captain of one of the famed Nebula-class ships. Only the best captains ever got command of one of those. She had heard that his ship, the John Korban, had arrived nearly half an hour ago. However, the man had yet to show. It was his meeting. He had called it.

Then the door opened and there he was. He was an older man with a bald head, only a thin strip of hair ran across the back of his head from ear to ear. Nevertheless, he was a commanding figure. “Captain Renard?”

Renard jumped out of her seat and gave her most professional salute. “Yes, sir.”

“No need for that,” Tournesol scoffed as he took a seat. “We’re both captains, right?”

“Of course, sir. Sorry. Would you like a drink?”

The man looked like he was about to say something and then paused. A small smile played across his lips. “Yes, some tea. Earl Grey.”

“Right away.” Renard moved to the dispenser as quickly as she could without looking like she was rushing and placed the order. After a second, tea poured from the dispenser. She placed one cup in front of the captain and one for herself.

“You like tea?” he asked.

“Sometimes,” she answered before sipping the steaming tea. She stopped herself from cringing at its bitterness.

“I asked you here for a reason, Captain,” Tournesol began as he let the tea cool. “We have reports of a large amount of Kapelle ships converging in a single area. We also have information from a reliable source that they have a big mission planned.”

“Against the Dasscarrions?”

“They believe it’s against us.”

“Us?”

“Yes,” he said, as if he had discovered a small stain on his uniform. “I’ve been ordered by command to stop them. And I want you to help.”

“You want me?” Renard asked eagerly.

“I want your ship to help. We could use the extra firepower.”

“How many ships are we talking about?”

“The reports say anywhere up to fifty or sixty. I suspect more like thirty. Either way its best to be prepared.”

“So, it’ll be your ship and mine against the Kapelle?”

“And anyone else I can enlist along the way.” Tournesol paused to drink from his cup, so he missed Renard’s disappointed reaction. “There should be a couple more ships out that way, but we’ll give them a call in transit. I plan on leaving as soon as possible.” The man stood. “Captain.”And before Renard could respond he was gone.

She walked to the computer and connected to her ship. The face of her Chief of Operations, Lieutenant Harry Garrett, filled the screen. “Lieutenant, order the crew back to the ship. I want to be ready to leave as soon as possible.” She disconnected before the young officer could respond and left the room.

When she entered her ship, her first officer, Commander Jack Kavot, was there to meet her, instantly matching her stride. “All of the crew is accounted for, Captain.”

“We ready to leave, Commander?”

“We were hoping to load a few more supplies.”

Renard frowned at this. “Has the Korban tried to reach us?”

“Not yet, captain. Should it have?”

“Captain Tournesol personally asked me, us, to join his mission against a large Kapelle fleet. We’re going to stop them and deal a massive blow to their terrorist movement.”

“And the supplies?”

They reached the elevator and Renard turned to glare at her XO. He pressed the button casually waiting for her response. Finally, “If we have time, the supplementary supplies will be loaded. Captain Tournesol’s mission gets top priority.”

“Of course, sir.”

They entered the elevator. The commander pressed the intercom. “Lieutenant, call the Korban and ask them about our departure time.”

Lieutenant Garrett’s face showed the slightest confusion on the small screen but he kept it out of his voice. “Yes, sir.”

They entered the bridge and took their seats.

“Captain?” Garrett asked.

“Yes?”

“Captain Tournesol has set their departure time for two hours.”

The captain stared blankly at her operations officer. “Oh.”

“Should we confirm that, Captain?” the Lieutenant asked innocently.

“Yes. Tell the captain that we’ll be ready whenever he is.”

“And the supplies?” Commander Kavot asked quietly.

“Commander Kavot, have the rest of the supplies loaded.”

“Yes, sir.”

She stood and with more force she added, “And have them on board before the departure time. We will not wait for anyone or anything. This mission takes priority.”

“Of course, sir.”

Jane Renard took in the room, seeing if there was anything else she needed to add. Coming to the conclusion she did not, she said, “I will be in my ready room if I’m needed,” and walked off the bridge.

Melina looked over her quarters. It wasn’t much really, not as captain’s quarters went. She didn’t know what to do with her living room, especially since it served also as her office. It wasn’t really a living room because she would be working here with officers stopping by to give her reports. But it wasn’t really an office either. She’d be living there, perhaps even entertaining there. Not that she had much to decorate with.

She had photos. Pictures of her parents, her sisters, her nephew, but she had put them up in her bedroom. She didn’t have anything for this other room. In the Hawking, Captain Gorwag had had a model of the ship in a display and pictures of the crew. Maybe she’d get one of those. Eventually.

Melina sighed. She’d already put everything away. It hadn’t taken very long. She’d never had so much room. Never had so much to fill. Maybe she’d do something about that when they arrived at the next starbase next month. She’d buy a picture or maybe a rug. A captain’s duties were never done.

“Speaking of captain’s duties...” she mumbled after the comm buzzed. She strode over to her desk and pressed the button. Ensign Park’s face appeared on the monitor. “Yes...Ensign?” She had been about to call the Comms officer Holly, until she realized it wouldn’t be very captain-like to call an officer by their first name. Not just yet anyway.

“A message came in for you, Commander.”

“A message? From Command?”

“From the D.S.S. John Korban. It’s got a level one encryption.”

“Level one?” The John Korban was a Nebula-class ship, Captain Tournesol’s ship. What could he want with her? And a level one encryption? A ’for captain’s eyes only’ message. “I’ll take it here, Ensign. Thanks.”

On the screen was a message requesting her clearance code, which the commander gave. A face appeared on the screen. She was surprised that it was indeed Captain Tournesol. “Commander Kim, I’m Captain Auguste Tournesol of the starship John Korban. I have been authorized to assemble a small fleet. I know this kind of thing isn’t a part of your mission and that your ship isn’t the heaviest armed vessel in the fleet, but every ship counts. We’re a little out of the way, but I hear your ship is quite fast,” he added as if sharing a joke, “and I believe you could cover the distance. I’m sending our route with this message. See what you can do about, hmm?”

Melina stared at the blinking ’Message End’ on the screen. “A mission? Us with them?” She started laughing. When she stopped, she stared at the screen. She had to reply. “Computer record message. Wait.”

Should she say yes? They were a tiny experimental ship. What could they do that a Nebula-class ship couldn’t? And if their part was so important, why hadn’t they been told about it when they left spacedock? It had only been a few hours ago.

But it was Captain Tournesol who had asked. Only Rear Admiral Hooker outranked him as far as officers in the fleet. There were a few other captains that might have seniority over him, but they were Nebula-class starship captains as well. If he needed her ship, shouldn’t she automatically say yes?

Maybe she should talk to Folsum? No, she was captain. She would decide. “Computer, record message. Captain Tournesol...” she paused, what was she going to say? “Yes. Um, This is Commander Melina Kim of the D.S.S. White Rabbit. We will meet up with you as soon as we can. Um...”

She pressed the end button. “Oh, that was horrible. Computer, delete that. Let’s try this again. Computer, record message.

“Hello, Captain Tournesol. This is Commander Kim of the starship White Rabbit. We welcome the opportunity to show you what we can do. Thank you for thinking of us, sir. Be right there.”

Melina turned the recording off. She stood up and started pacing. “You’re a starship captain, Mel. Act like one already.” She sat back down. “Computer, record message.

“This is Captain Melina Kim of the starship White Rabbit. We’ll be there, sir.” She ended the message. “What else did I need to say? It was short and to the point. There’s no reason to get fancy. It was fine. Maybe...no. That’s it.

“Computer, encrypt message level one. Authorization code Commander Melina Kim Charlie-347-Alpha-Tango-9320.”

She pressed the intercom. “Ensign?”

“Yes, sir?” Park replied.

“I want you to send my reply to the John Korban.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And tell Lieutenant Commander Folsum that I’m returning to the bridge.”

Melina immediately made her way down the hall. One good thing about being a captain was that her quarters were very close to the bridge.

“Is there a problem, Commander?” her first officer asked as she entered.

“Not at all, Lieutenant. We have a new mission.”

“A new mission?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“The specifics will be given when we arrive,” she said as she sat down in her chair. “Ensign London, change course to rendezvous with these ships.” She sent the information to his screen.

“Ships?” Lieutenant Commander Oak asked. “What ships?”

“Captain Auguste Tournesol has requested our assistance on a mission.”

“What kind of mission?”

“An important one, Lieutenant,” Commander Kim said sharply. “I already said we’d get the specifics when we arrived. Captain Tournesol wouldn’t have asked for us if he didn’t need us.”

“If he needs us, then we’re all screwed,” Tim London muttered.

“What was that, Ensign?” the commander asked. “I didn’t quite hear that.”

He turned in his chair. “Nothing, sir. I didn’t...”

“That’s what I thought.” Folsum sat down next to her looking impressed. Commander Kim pressed the intercom. “Engine room.”

“What can I help you with, Commander?” Zog asked.

“You think your little toy’s ready for a spin?”

“By spin...” the Klitheras asked looking for clarification.

“I mean, all the way, Zog.”

The chief engineer gave her a slimy grin. “That’s what we’ve been waiting for, Commander.”

“Excellent. London, take us to 10X.”

“We’re sure this thing’s not going to blow up, right?” the ensign retorted.

“You scared, Ensign?”

“No, sir. I’m actually quite excited.”

“Then let ’er rip.”

“Yes, sir,” the helmsman said enthusiastically. “Raising outerfield. 8X. 9X. Outerfield at 10X. Raising innerfield. 8X. 9X. Synchronizing. We are at 10X, Commander.”

“Ha!” Commander Kim pumped her fist.

“Zog? How’re we holding up?” Lieutenant Commander Folsum asked.

“Smooth as a grapnor’s back,” the engineer replied.

“Henson?” the commander turned to her science officer. “How’re our readings?”

“Everything is optimal, Commander,” she said looking up from her console. “No anomalies. No leakage. The field is holding. My assistants are checking the rest of the ship. I expect everything to be running correctly.”

“Excellent, Lieutenant. Nicely done.”

“Changing course,” London announced.

“Take us away, Ensign.”

“Well, I’m just tired of waiting,” B’leeres growled. “We were told to meet here and that was nearly a week ago.”

“All you wish is for action,” Lepaz sang back.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“For an engineer perhaps.”

B’leeres bristled slightly at that. She knew Lepaz meant nothing by it, but sitting in the engine room while others did the fighting was not in her blood. Unfortunately, she was an excellent engineer. “So, we won’t get to see anything or do anything, really, but I’d be there. And I’d know it.”

“Yes. Because we would be around running to stop fires.”

“Yeah,” B’leeres said, showing her pointed teeth in pleasure. She liked Lepaz. And people like Lepaz were the reason she was a part of the Kapelle. Because unlike the Alliance or the Cruubor Empire, they accepted all type of people. Lepaz was an Emicho, one of the furthest sentient species from the humanoid standard that most of the known races adhered to.

The Emicho had a single piece body with a transparent ovoid carapace. Blue liquid could be seen flowing in random patterns along the base. They had two long massive legs that connected to the rear of the carapace. The bottom of the torso was covered in white cilia which were the closest things to arms that it had. It had no eyes or ears, but hundreds of sensory organs around its exoskeleton. They spoke with whistles and were almost completely incapable of communicating to most species without a translator program.

This was one reason she adored Lepaz. If this strange creature could belong so could she. B’leeres was by no means as unique looking as her friend, but she was still an outcast. Her mother was human, her father Cruubor. She was a hybrid belonging to neither society. Too feral for the humans, too weak for the Cruubors, she had been a woman without a people.

Living within the Empire was not a choice. She had been disowned by her father and his clan. Her mother had died in childbirth. Though she was fairly similar to humanoid standard, her red skin marked her as Cruubor. Her claws could be retracted and her fin was only raised during great emotion. Her teeth could only be hidden by keeping her mouth closed. But it was her Cruubor temper more than anything that made the worlds of the Alliance difficult to live in.

Life had been misery before the Kapelle. Did she believe in their cause? Perhaps not, but she would kill for them and she would die for them.

“Hey!” Mich-ro called as she peeked her head in. She was Lakoran and normally worked on the bridge. “Did you hear yet?”

“Hear what?” B’leeres asked, irritated by the vagueness of her question.

“The Zapatista has arrived. Cochitta is supposed to be leading the mission.”

“So, it will start soon?”

“One can hope. I haven’t heard anything yet though, but I’m heading to the bridge now.”

“Then what are you waiting for, Mich-ro?” B’leeres growled.

“I was just trying to share some knowledge,” Mich-ro said, insulted.

“And it is appreciated by us,” Lepaz replied. “With thanks to you.”

“I’ll tell you if I learn anything new, Lepaz.” Then after making a face at B’leeres, the Lakoran left.

“She was only sharing information us with.”

The half-Cruubor huffed. “Yes, I know, but did she have to be so proud of herself?”

“Not proud, excited. As were you. You need not bite her head off for such things.”

“No,” B’leeres said with a vicious grin, “I will find another reason for that.”

“You should not kid such ways. What if she had heard? She may not comprehend a joke you were making.”

B’leeres frowned. “Who said I was joking?”

“Incoming. The D.S.S. White Rabbit.”

“White Rabbit?” Captain Renard asked. “Never heard of it. Put it on screen.”

The monitor changed to show the newly arrived vessel. “Kind of small,” the captain muttered. “Looks like an Artemis-class ship.”

“The database says that it is a prototype ship still in its testing phase. It has a modified Hermes hull,” Lieutenant Garrett corrected.

“Hermes? A Hermes-class ship? What is a Hermes-class ship doing here? Get me Captain Tournesol.”

Lieutenant Garrett contacted the John Korban. “Sorry, sir. The captain is busy at the moment.”

“Busy?”

“Perhaps he’s talking to the captain of the new ship,” Commander Jack Kavot, the first officer, offered.

“Yes.” Renard frowned. “Probably.” She stood up. “Lieutenant, as soon as the captain has time, connect me. I’ll be in my ready room.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Commander, you have the bridge.”

She walked into her room and took a seat behind her desk. Waiting, she called up the records to the White Rabbit. It didn’t make her feel any better.

“Captain,” Garrett called over the comm. “Captain Tournesol for you.”

“Put him through, Lieutenant.”

The captain’s face appeared on the screen. “Captain Renard, you had a question?”

“Yes, sir. It regards the new vessel.”

Tournesol grinned, nodding his head. “The White Rabbit, yes. You’ve seen it has arrived.”

“Yes, sir. I have, but, may I ask, why?”

“Why what, Captain?”

“Why is there a Hermes-class vessel here?”

“The more cannons the better, Captain.”

“Yes, sir, but this ship won’t be much help. Why even bring it? If you needed another vessel why not bring another Jupiter-class ship like the Castor?”

“Another Jupiter-class ship is coming, Captain.”

“Then why do we need this ship, surely the four of us...”

Captain Tournesol began to grow irritated. “Captain Renard, we are facing an unknown number of ships. I cannot be assured that four ships will do the job.”

“Then why not send for more, larger ships?”

“I sent for every vessel that had a chance to reach us before we arrive at our target. These were the three vessels available. The White Rabbit is a good solid ship with a capable crew. They arrived before the Pollux even though they were more than two light years further away.”

“They’re an inexperienced crew with a first time captain!” Renard stammered. “It’s an experimental ship! A prototype! How can we even rely on it?”

Tournesol glowered and spoke in a quiet monotone. “If we could not rely on it, Captain, it would not have been sent out on a mission. If you have problems with Command, perhaps you should take it up with the Admirals.”

Jane Renard blinked away her anger. “Sorry, Captain. I didn’t mean to question your judgment, sir. I just believe that such a small vessel will be more of a problem than a boon. It’s barely more powerful than some of those Kapelle vessels.”

“But we are much more powerful, Captain. Trust me, I took this into consideration in my stratagem. You’ll have the opportunity to look at it with the other captains after the Pollux arrives. We will have a meeting on my ship at that time. Unless there’s anything else...?”

“No, sir.” The screen went blank. “Pompous windbag.”

When Melina boarded the John Korban, she was in awe. Though from the inside it didn’t look much different from the White Rabbit, if anything her ship was in far better condition than the Korban, it was still a Nebula-class ship. It was the pinnacle of Spacefleet achievement. Any further and they put you behind a desk and started calling you admiral.

Already quite overwhelmed, the meeting only exacerbated things. Melina found herself face to face with four captains. To make matters even worse, they had been struck waiting for her to arrive. But of course she had been last, they had made her last. They had all been given clearance to dock with the Korban by ranking and she, not even a captain, had been last. By the time she arrived, they were all sitting comfortably, chatting.

Captain Tournesol rose to meet her. “Ah, Commander Kim, you’re here. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank y...” She had started to salute when the captain offered his hand. Nervously she shook it. “Thank you, sir.”

“I’ve heard good things about you, Kim.”

“Oh?” Where would he have heard anything about her? Why would he even care?

“Yes, indeed. Let me introduce everyone.” He turned to a younger woman, younger than the captain that is, older than Melina, but then all the other captains fell into that range. She had brown hair tied up in a bun. “This is Jane Renard, captain of the Samael.”

The woman smiled at her and shook her hand. “It is so good to meet you, Commander. Always good to have another female captain around, am I right?”

“Um...” Melina answered awkwardly, but before she could think of a proper answer, Tournesol continued.

“And this is George Sanders of the starship Castor.”

Melina could tell Sanders didn’t approve of the handshake. The man would probably have wanted a salute. “Commander.”

“Captain,” Melina replied.

“And finally, Captain John Rudolph of the D.S.S. Pollux.”

Rudolph was clearly younger than the other three captains, though he still had a good number of years on her. “Good you’re here, Commander.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Melina said surprised by the sentiment.

“Now we can finally start,” he continued, moving toward the table.

Melina frowned.

Captain Tournesol took his seat at the head of the table. “Feel free to help yourself to a beverage, Commander.”

“Oh.” She saw Tournesol’s steaming cup in front of him, presumably tea, as his bio indicated was his drink of choice. Captain Renard had a similar cup. Sanders had what looked like coffee. Rudolph was drinking nothing. Melina figured that was the way to go as the best way to get the meeting started and attention away from her. “Why don’t you just begin, sir.”

Auguste Tournesol grinned. “Excellent idea, Kim.” He pressed a button in front of him and the monitor behind him displayed a simulated cluster of asteroids. “Our best intel says that the Kapelle are holding up in an asteroid belt. At current speeds we should be there in the next couple of hours.”

“And why are we going so slow, captain?” Renard interrupted. “Wouldn’t it be better for us to reach our destination quicker? Not to be rude, but I hope it’s not because the Rabbit can’t keep up.” She turned to Melina, smiling sympathetically. “I mean it is a small ship.”

“That’s so kind of you, Captain,” Melina said in the most civil tongue she could manage. “But I assure you we can keep up.”

“She’s right, Captain,” Tournesol commented. “The White Rabbit is a very fast vessel.”

“No, Captain Renard,” Sanders said. “It would appear that it is our vessels that can’t keep up. As I’m sure you know, a Jupiter-class vessel is only capable of 6X.”

“Sorry, we’re so slow, Captain,” Rudolph added. His poorly hidden anger was quite a contrast to Sanders blank face.

Renard gave them a tight-lipped grin, as nasty replies bubbled in her head. Tournesol saved her, perhaps inadvertently, by continuing his briefing. “Clearly, they hope the asteroids can hide them. So we’re going to have to sweep the entire belt. We’re going to all lower our temporal fields to 2X to get a more comprehensive scan, except for the White Rabbit.” Eyes turned toward Melina. “Kim, you’re going to take your vessel in the lead at 6X, scanning along the way. Our hope is that you’ll be able to draw them out. When they do, you will turn around and lead them back toward us.”

“I’m bait?” Melina asked, not liking the concept.

“It is the best way to utilize your ship,” Renard commented.

“If necessary, Commander,” Tournesol continued as if no one had said anything, “you are permitted to go to 8X, but only if absolutely necessary. We don’t want to lose your ship,” he added with a smile.

“Eight X?” Renard said with surprise.

“Just how fast can her ship go?” Rudolph asked Tournesol. He and Renard had been surprised when they heard she could exceed 6X, but 8X had completely shocked them. Though most of the smaller ships topped out at 6X, some of the newer Hermes-class vessels could go to 7X as they were primarily used for quick transport or scout ships. Such a small vessel able to generate a stronger temporal field was unheard of.

“I believe the number is ten,” the senior captain answered, “is it not?”

“Yes, it is, sir,” Melina replied, though she could barely be heard over Rudolph’s exclamation.

“Ten?” he exclaimed. “That’s incredible!” he said this time to her. “Have you actually been at ten?”

“We used it to arrive here so quickly.”

“That’s astounding,” Sanders commented, his stoic facade cracking a little.

“Well, it is experimental,” Melina responded by way of an explanation. The attention made her a little uncomfortable.

“That is why she will go ahead,” Tournesol continued. “While we will take on this formation.” The monitor changed to show the four other ships in formation. The Korban was in the lead on a middle plane, the two Jupiter-class ships were behind it on either side on a lower plane, and the Samael was in the rear at the highest plane. “This should give us a good chance to scan the entire belt while not being too open to ambush.

“When the Kapelle ships do show themselves, we will all cycle up our outer temporal fields to six and disengage the innerfields.” The captain didn’t need to add the last part. It was standard practice when in an engagement to lower the innerfield, so that they could experience the battle at a slower pace than usual. With their personal temporal field increased, they could react faster without the innerfield to negate the subjective effects of the outerfield. Even first year students at the academy knew this, but Captain Tournesol wasn’t one to leave things to chance. “None of their ships should be able to top four and most will probably only be able to reach two. Even though they’ll outnumber us, we should have them at a distinct disadvantage. Now here are some of the strategies I’ve worked out...”

Lieutenant Commander Tirus was a Phaestian. They were the first alien race the humans came in contact with after becoming a space faring race. The Phaestians recognized humanity for the neophyte that it was and developed a kind of teacher/student relationship with the young race. Surely, the overly emotional humans bristled under the tutelage of the wiser race, but a sort of grudging respect grew between them. The fact that Phaestians looked very similar to humans helped form that bond. The majority of the Phaestians had darker skin than most humans, about the complexion of the humans descending from the area of Earth called Africa. However, the major difference was their ears. Where as human ears looked like a flap of skin that had been added to the head on a whim, the Phaestian ear was part of their skull. From the back, one could see that the ears were extensions of the skull, not just added pieces. Though their hearing is more directional than that of most other species, it is also much more acute.

The Phaestians were also the first ’alien’ race to join the Democratic Alliance of Planets, giving the Alliance credibility and laying the groundwork for other species to be brought into this largely peaceful organization. Few joined the Spacefleet, but Tirus was one of them. Though his abilities provided a quick path to the higher ranks, he used his commendations to allow him to pursue his own interests.

He had started out as an engineer, but interest waned and eventually he found himself as Chief Tactical Officer of the John Korban. On several occasions he declined promotions and even the opportunity to captain his own ship. He had no interest in commanding a ship of any size. Despite being quite adept at tactics, his interests lay elsewhere. Lately, botany had piqued his interest. He considered becoming a science officer, but the John Korban had a capable senior science officer and he did not wish to ’rock the boat,’ as the humans said. The thought of being a subordinate never occurred to him. Not only was his rank too high, but having limitations put on him by the whimsy of some nonsensical officer was quite irrational. Perhaps one day, he would switch. He had nearly a century left before old age would begin to become part of the equation.

At the moment, Tirus was busy with his orchids. He was currently trying to add a bioluminescent trait to the plant. He was trying to graft the gene of a deep water fish to the orchid to make it glow in the dark when it bloomed. It was not an unheard of experiment, but one he had never attempted. Genes from one species had been grafted to another from different species or phylum or even kingdoms. Many times DNA from different planets had been spliced together, but never before had a glowing orchid been produced.

“All senior officers to the bridge.”

Tirus paused to consider the order. He was busy, but nothing dire, nothing that couldn’t wait. Orders came first. He carefully returned his equipment to their proper place and made his way to the bridge. He took his place, relieving the younger officer.

“Mr. Tirus,” Captain Tournesol said as soon as he noticed the tactical officer, “sound the alert. I want the entire crew at battle stations.”

“Of course, Captain.”

As Tirus sounded the alarm, someone else entered the bridge. He wasn’t a senior officer. He wasn’t even part of the crew, but he had been granted almost free run of the ship. “Ambassador D’worren,” the captain said as if the presence of the Cruubor Ambassador was a happy surprise, “what are you doing here?”

“We have arrived, yes?” D’worren flashed his sharp teeth.

“In a few minutes, we will have.”

“And then the hunt begins?”

“The search for the Kapelle ships will start as soon as we arrive. That is correct, Ambassador.”

“Excellent. I wish to see how well an Alliance captain hunts.”

“I hope we won’t disappoint you, D’worren.” The captain turned to his crew. “In two minutes, we will have reached the belt. I want everyone to be prepared. The enemy will attack with no warning. Mr. Tirus, I want you to be scanning for vessels as soon as we’re in range.”

“Of course, Captain.”

“Mr. Okun, you’ll scan for life signs. We don’t want to miss any tricks.”

Lieutenant Commander Brent Okun was the Chief Science Officer. He was also a cyborg. Tirus had never inquired as to the reasons for Mr. Okun’s cybernetic parts and the man had never been compelled to tell him. Tirus found him to be a pleasant enough man. The partly cybernetic brain more than likely had a lot to do with that as it suppressed the erratic emotions of the human and pushed him toward the analytical. “Yes, Captain,” Okun replied.

“All right, men,” the captain said, standing beside the helmsman, Gordie McFadden, smiling with anticipation, “one more time into the breach.”

“The Alliance ships have arrived,” Cochitta said over the comm to the other ships. “Remember the plan and stick to it. I don’t want anyone blowing our cover. From this moment on, there will be no communication. We are running silent.”

Tarik Alaya cut the feed. “Powering down,” he said.

“Passive scans only,” Ma-chett reported.

“Excellent,” Cochitta smiled at her. Then his eyes moved to the uninvited Samuel Williams and any sign of happiness vanished. “And how are our systems, Mr. Williams?”

“Everything is perfect,” he said with a forced smile.

“Everything?” Cochitta said as he approached the man.

“Everything,” Williams confirmed. “I’m running a third diagnostic now.”

“We are supposed to be powered down.”

“Don’t worry, ’Chitta. It uses very little power.”

“You don’t call me that.” Cochitta thrust his face in front of the other man’s, pulling the stranger’s eyes to him. “And never tell me to not worry.”

“Of course not, Cochitta,” the man said visibly shrinking. “I was just trying to reassure you. Everything’s perfect.”

“Perfect,” Cochitta laughed bitterly. “Nothing is perfect. If things were perfect, would my people be under the rule of the Dasscarrions? Would the people who subjugated Ma-chett and her people be allowed peace? Would Alaya’s family have been imprisoned because they were running a trading vessel?”

“I know the reasons we fight, Cochitta,” Williams fired back. “My family was killed by the Dasscarrions. My parents, my brother and his family, my wife, my children. I know why we fight.”

“Yes, but do you know how to fight?”

“I have fought before and I have killed before.”

“Oh, I have no doubt you can kill a man. I can see it in your eyes. But do you know how to make sure your comrades live? Do you know how to keep men from dying?”

“Is there a problem, Cochitta?” Williams asked.

“Only that I have a man serving on my crew who I do not know. I must trust you with my life and the life of my crew. And you tell me that everything is perfect.”

“What do you want me to tell you, Cochitta?”

“What I want...” Cochitta began venomously.

“’Chitta,” Ma-chett interrupted. She locked eyes with Cochitta. And he pushed his anger down.

“What I want,” Cochitta began again, turning from the other man, “is unimportant. All that is important now is this mission.”

“We will succeed,” Williams replied with complete faith.

Cochitta sighed. “We had better.”

“Anything yet, Mr. Garrett?” Captain Renard asked, as she stared at the seemingly infinite number of asteroids filling up the view screen.

“No, Captain,” Lieutenant Harry Garrett responded miraculously without the slightest hint of irritation.

Renard sighed. “This is getting us nowhere. We’ve been at this for two hours.”

“I believe it’s only been one hour, Captain,” Commander Kavot replied.

“Well, it seems like two.” She stood up. “Options, Commander.”

“Options, sir?”

“Yes. Options,” she repeated as she started to pace.

“Options for what exactly?”

“Options for our next course of action, Commander. Options to scare these criminals out of hiding. I believe a bold action needs to be taken.”

“But Captain Tournesol’s orders were to stay in position, weren’t they?”

“Yes, they were, Commander. However,” she added with a smile, “the good captain wouldn’t have picked me for the mission if he didn’t expect me to use my own initiative. So, what’re our options?”

“Our options? I don’t...” Kavot began.

“Incoming!” Lieutenant Ed Michaels reported. “They’re firing.”

The bridge shook. “Where?” Renard yelled.

“Behind us. Three of them.” Michaels looked perplexedly at his console. “They’re retreating.”

“Hit and run,” the captain concluded. “If we don’t go after them, they’ll continue to pick at us. Ensign Cultane, turn us around, pursuit course. Mr. Garrett, get me a connection to Captain Tournesol. “

Tournesol’s face appeared in the corner of the screen. “Is there a problem, Renard?”

“We’ve sighted three Kapelle ships. We’re pursuing them.”

“Three ships?” the senior captain mused. “Perhaps, it is a trap.”

“A trap? With all due respect, Captain, what trap could they have that could harm my ship? I believe they are most likely luring us in to where the other ships are laying in wait. They’ll try and ambush us, but we have too much firepower for them.”

Tournesol looked conflicted over the screen. He slowly nodded. “On your guard, Captain.” And then cut the connection.

“Aha!” Ambassador D’worren cried. “The hunt begins!”

Tirus raised a questioning eyebrow at the big Cruubor. The ambassador did not notice. Phaestians had little time for the brutish Cruubor. They were so barbarous, they made the human race seem civilized. “The Castor and the Pollux are both turning and returning to formation, Captain.”

“Excellent. Now, connect me to the White Rabbit.”

“Captain?” Commander Kim asked on the monitor.

“Any signs of them, Commander?”

“No, sir. It’s all clear so far.”

“The Samael has spotted a trio of ships. We are taking off after them. I want you to turn your ship around and join us. I don’t want you getting caught out there alone. No telling where the...”

“Captain,” Tirus said in a calm loud voice. “Enemy ships coming from our aft. Prepare for impact.”

The connection cut off. “Oak?”

“Ten ships...fifteen...twenty ships are coming out of hiding and firing at the Korban.”

“London, turn us around,” Commander Kim ordered.

“Commander, I suggest we start firing as soon as we are within range. We need to take the attack to them.” Lieutenant Commander Oak began to start targeting the enemy.

Kim shook her head. “Our orders are to enter formation, Lieutenant.”

“Commander,” the tactical officer said through gritted teeth, “we should attack. The captain’s orders were before this most recent attack. We should enter the fray.”

“Negative, Lieutenant. We are not a warship.”

“But we are faster than they are,” he said passionately. “They won’t be able to hit us.” He began working furiously on the console, marking target priorities. “We are within firing range. I am preparing to fire.”

Melina hesitated. He was going to fire.

“Stand down, Lieutenant!” Folsum jumped out of his chair and turned on Oak. “The commander gave you an order and you will follow that order. Do you understand?”

Oak wasn’t listening. “Lieutenant, I believe the best course of action...”

Folsum marched toward the tactical console. “The only course of action you need concern yourself with, Lieutenant, is the one the commander ordered you to follow. Or do you wish to be relieved?”

“No, sir. I do not.”

Commander Kim could feel the tension in the air. Her first combat mission as captain of the ship and things weren’t going well. She had to take command of the situation. She stood up. “You were right about one thing, Oak. We are faster.” She walked up to the helm. “So, what’d you think, Ensign? Think you can get us through that?”

“Sir?” London asked, looking up to the commander and finding her looking down at him.

“They say you’re a good pilot, Ensign. Why don’t you show us how good you are,” she said, adding a wink.

Slowly it dawned on Tim London and a grin sprouted. “Yes, sir!”

The Zapatista flew in for another attack run. “The small ship is coming at us,” Alaya announced.

“Ignore it,” Cochitta replied. “We have to take down that Nebula-class ship. Ma-chett., focus all your shots on the engines.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” she growled.

Cochitta turned to lock eyes with the Lakoran, but she had her eyes fixed on the console in front of her. She was focused. Good. She was frustrated and anxious, but they all were. They were under heavy fire and they all could be trusted. Except for one.

Williams was the only one who hadn’t been in combat and it showed. Cochitta could see the sweat pouring off him. He was nervous, his eyes frantically jumping around on his console. Cochitta might loathe the man, but, for the time being, he was part of the crew. Their lives might depend on his ability to do his job. “Relax, Williams, you’ll be no good to us if you have a heart attack.”

“I’m fine,” the man replied with a viciousness Cochitta found unnerving.

“Just take it easy.”

“This mission is important. Why don’t you do your job?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Bothering me.”

Cochitta glared at the man. Williams wasn’t nervous. He was anxious. Something was going on. They had kept something from him. Something important. And if they survived this, he was going to find out what.

“Captain,” Garrett called, “the Korban’s under attack.”

“Attack?” Renard blinked. “Mr. Michaels, what’s the situation?”

“I can’t get a good read-out, sir, but it appears to be twenty ships that are attacking them.”

“Twenty? That could be half the Kapelle fleet.”

“Or all of them,” Kavot countered.

“Maybe. And the other ships?”

“Both the Pollux and the Castor have reversed course,” the tactical officer replied.

“Then we’d have no backup. Either their objective is to destroy the Korban or they want to separate us. Sounds like we should stick together. Ensign Cultane, turn us back toward the Korban. Mr. Michaels, keep your scans at the widest. I don’t want the Kapelle to use this to escape.”

“Yes, sir. And the ships we’re chasing?”

“Keep an eye on them. If you can shoot them with an aft cannon, do it, but the Korban comes first.”

The White Rabbit dove into the action at breakneck speed, missing other ships by mere yards. The Kapelle ships swarmed around the Korban like bees around a bear. The White Rabbit began firing at the attacking ships, gone before the enemy had a chance to react. It flew around the crowded space, past ships and asteroids alike, never stopping.

“Is this wise?” Folsum asked, as quietly as he could.

“Speed’s the only advantage we’ve got,” Kim replied. “We barely have more firepower than most of those Kapelle ships.”

“The Pollux and Castor have arrived,” Oak reported with his temper held tightly in a vise-like grip. “Perhaps, we should move to the outside of the more concentrated area so that the larger ships can fire more freely.”

Folsum nodded. “We could be more effective on the border, taking potshots while keeping under cover of the asteroids.”

“And we could be available if any ships try to run,” Commander Kim agreed. “Excellent idea, Lieutenant. Ensign?”

“On it,” London replied.

“And,” Folsum added, “perhaps we could slow down a little bit.”

Cochitta watched in horror as the Jilin exploded right before his eyes. “That’s what, the third ship?” he asked.

“The seventh,” Alaya replied.

“Ma-chett?”

“More bad news, ’Chitta. The Archangel-class ship is returning.”

“So much for divide and conquer.”

“The Tupamaros has taken severe damage,” Alaya reported. “It’s not going to be able to take much more. Same with half the fleet.”

Cochitta took a deep breath. “Williams, how much longer do we have to delay them?” The man didn’t reply at first. “Williams?”

Sam Williams looked up with an eager, almost gleeful look on his face that gave Cochitta the shivers. It slowly faded from his face as his attention returned from where ever it had gone. “Huh?”

“How much longer?”

“Not much. Not much longer at all.”

“Good,” Cochitta replied unnerved by this stranger. “We can’t take much more of this.”

“Captain,” Tirus spoke up, as he double-checked his findings.

“What is it, Mr. Tirus?”

“One of these ships is running at 5X.”

“Five? How could that be?”

“I don’t know, Captain, but it is true. And that is not all.”

“Not all?” Tournesol asked, bracing himself against the console.

“It has more powerful weapons and a stronger shield.”

“Only that one?” the captain asked staring at the chaos on the screen. “Did they steal a better ship?”

“No, sir. This is a similar raider as the others. It has been upgraded.”

“And what do you make of that, Mr. Tirus?”

“I believe there is more to the Kapelle plan than it appears. This is not just a mere ambush nor a simple amassing of ships. They have a more dire plan.”

“What is it?”

“I do not yet know.”

“I fear that when we find out, it’ll be too late.”

“A distinct possibility, Captain.”

The Lwow Eaglets exploded and the Sandinistas followed quickly behind it. “We can’t stay any longer,” Cochitta announced.

“Not yet,” Williams pleaded. “Just a few more minutes.”

“A few more minutes and we’ll be dead. This was a foolish mission. It was suicide. We’ve delayed them maybe ten minutes. Not very long in the grand scheme. I don’t see why we couldn’t have tried to flee immediately or why we had to invest so many ships. What could we possible hope to gain from any of this?”

“A lot,” Williams replied without looking up. “Just give me a couple more minutes.”

“No. No more. We’re leaving.”

“We can’t!” Samuel Williams replied firmly. “We’re not done yet!”

“Not done what? What’re you playing at, Williams?”

“Playing? I’m not playing. I see why they couldn’t trust you.”

Cochitta squinted at the man as if he only needed to focus to understand. “What are you talking about?” Ma-chett barked.

Whatever secret Williams had, Cochitta couldn’t figure it out, but he didn’t care any more. He had finally had enough. “That’s it! Carol, take us out of here.”

“I can’t,” the pilot replied in horror. “I’ve been locked out.”

“Williams!” Cochitta growled, turning toward the man.

“You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t make the sacrifice. But you’ve forced my hand, Cochitta. And any Kapelle that die from now on are on your head. I might have been able to save some of them, but you gave me no choice.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Making the ultimate sacrifice for justice and freedom.” Sam Williams pressed in the code and the room went dark.

For a brief second, the Zapatista was dead in the water. The ship shook slightly as if a small object had exploded on the hull. And then the back-up generator kicked in and a dark red light filled the room. “What have you done?”

“Watch,” Williams replied with a mad grin. One second the monitor was filled with the darkness of space and then...light.

“The upgraded raider is moving out of the combat zone,” Tirus said, as he kept one eye on the action outside. “It’s flying straight away, taking no evasive maneuvers.”

“And it’s very unlikely that it’s running away, yes?” Captain Tournesol posed.

“Not alone,” the first officer replied, moving to stand next to the captain. “If they had something important enough to escape with, they wouldn’t have stayed so long.”

“My thinking as well, Sam. Lieutenant Nyota, contact the Pollux. They look to be the closest. Have them intercept the ship.”

“Yes, sir,” the operations officer replied.

“Captain, wouldn’t the White Rabbit have the best opportunity to catch them?” Tirus asked.

“They are quick,” Commander Sam Bowman added. “And we won’t miss their guns too much.”

“Nichelle,” Tournesol said. “Get the White Rabbit on it as well.”

“Both of them, Captain?” Lieutenant Nyota asked.

“That’s right, Lieutenant. There’s something up with that ship.”

“Commander, call coming in from the Korban,” Ensign Park called.

“What is it, Ensign?” Kim replied gripping tight to her chair as the ship weaved around hazards.

“They want us to pursue target seven. They say it’s acting suspiciously.”

“Oak?” the commander called.

The tactical officer pulled the information. “It’s moving away from the action, as if it was trying to run away as fast as it could. It has an entire upgraded package, shields, engines, weaponry.”

Commander Kim turned in her chair. “Is it a danger?”

“They’re all dangers, Commander,” Oak replied darkly. “But it’s not up at our level.”

“London...”

“Already on it,” the pilot gleefully announced.

“Wait for the command next time, Ensign,” Lieutenant Commander Folsum warned.

“It’s their most powerful ship,” Oak continued. “That it’s fleeing certainly means something is up.”

“You’re recommending precaution?” the commander asked, surprised.

“I think he’s right, Commander,” Folsum said from the chair beside her. “There is something wrong here.”

“The Pollux is also in pursuit,” Oak reported.

“I’m reading a power surge in their systems,” Ann Henson spoke. She tapped frantically at her screen.

“The bird is dead,” Oak confirmed. “But it fired something.”

“Oh, this isn’t good...”

“What does that mean, Mr. Tirus?”

Tirus hesitated. He had no clue, but before he could say anything, Lieutenant Commander Okun spoke, “I’m reading a massive gravitational disturbance. I...I...think it’s some kind of singularity.”

“It is causing problems with the systems, Captain,” Tirus added. He had never seen such readings before. Were they real or was it all some kind of new weapon?

“What is going on here?” Ambassador D’worren demanded.

They all watched as a bright flash filled the screen. The entire ship shook.

“I believe they’ve created a a wormhole,” Okun replied, fear coloring his voice.

“It’s pulling us in,” Ensign McFadden reported.

“Full reverse,” Tournesol commanded.

“It’s no help.”

“It’s too strong, Captain,” Okun reported.

“Full alert, Mr. Tirus.” Tournesol rushed to his chair. He saw the Cruubor ambassador standing by the console. “Perhaps you should find a seat, D’worren.”

The proud Cruubor warrior glared at the captain, his teeth in full view. Then his eyes wandered to the screen as the wormhole drew closer, growing on the screen. “Perhaps I should.”