Deep Space, Near Alpha Saurus 9:32PM ship time, USS Huron December 27, 2133 The bridge was as full as it ever was; six officers manned the bridge of the small warship, one in each of the tactical positions. Janice Holtz knew them all well; she'd been on the same shift with these men and women for three months -- three months of alternating boredom and mind-blowing adrenaline. Somehow, their shift had come out without a scratch. "Transmission coming in from Hyperspace, Captain." Familiar. Hyperwave transmissions were Jenkins' job, always had been. She was also damned good at them; "Encrypted. Give me a sec." None of the other shifts had communications officers that could say that. None of the other shifts had anyone that could crack anything and everything. That was part of their secret, of course. Gamma Shift was good, damned good. For that matter, that's what most of the fleet thought about the Huron. The ship itself was damned good. Maybe not the best ship in the fleet, but certainly the best crew. "Got it." Jenkins again. That was fast; what, a minute twenty? "Not that I understand it or anything." That Holtz didn't get. Jenkins didn't get something? This could be interesting. "On my pad, Jenkins." Jenkins typed a few things on her own pad; the information, decrypted appeared on her own screen. And she instantly knew why Jenkins hadn't understood it. Lieutenant Jennifer "Strobe" Yur, the weapons control officer, walked up behind the captain's chair. "Jenkins, you should've cracked that in thirty seconds, you fragger!" Jenkins couldn't resist a reply: "You should talk, Mycon-breath!" Jenkins was at least a little more creative in her insults. No time for a brawl today, though, not after seeing the message. "Ladies! Ladies! Settle down. Jenkins couldn't read it because I ordered her not to. It's in captain's code." The bridge suddenly went silent. The silence ended almost instantly. "Ship-Comm activated, Captain." Jenkins knew what was going on, even if she wasn't supposed to. This was worthy of the whole crew. "All on-duty and off-duty personnel, this is Captain Holtz. May I have your attention, please. "We left Stardock three months, four days ago, on an exploratory mission beyond enemy lines. We left with six ships, to investigate reports of some unknown signals discovered by Earth Central communications relays. In the time since then, we have lost all of our escorts, had no leave, lost half the decent food on this ship, lost four of our men. "We have been expecting orders to return home for more than a month now. Our tour of duty is over. We have investigated those broadcasts and found nothing. We have destroyed six enemy ships. And we're the talk of the fleet back home. "And now we get to join them." The bridge crew suddenly exploded with shouts of joy. Holtz was forced to speak over the whoops of happiness. "I have just received word from Earth Central. I quote: 'The Huron is ordered to return to Earth for a refit, restock, and relaxation.' "We're going home, folks." The cries of happiness kept going for nearly a minute. Joyan and Krandall were kissing in the corner; Jenkins and Strobe were doing some sort of interesting handshake; even Harry Franz, normally the most emotionless man on the ship, was jumping up and down and apparently talking with someone over his throat-mike. She waited another minute for it to begin to calm down. It didn't, unfortunately, show any signs of it. "Ahem." In most circumstances, that would have been enough for instance silence. Franz at least shut up. It took the rest of them fifteen seconds to even think about it, and thirty seconds to actually give her silence. "We've served together for three months. We've gone through a lot. And, since you've finally all gotten quiet, I can say that stock line that you've all heard every tour of your life. You're all the best damned crew I ever served with, and probably ever will serve with. You've done this ship, and her captain, proud. And I really mean it. We all taught the Hierarchy a thing or two. And now we're going home." Silence. As she wanted it. "Party for all off-duty officers. My quarters, 0100 hours. I'm bringing out the champagne. Holtz out." And she clicked off the ship transmitter. The shouts of happiness started up again. And this time, she joined in. They were going home. -- Vela System 2:00AM ship time, USS Julian December 28, 2133 "Captain, we still have one Dreadnaught, two Drones, at least one Avenger, and one podship on our tail." They weren't going to make it. "Ensign, can we get out of here?" There was only one man that could respond. "Sir...we aren't going to make it." Damn. DAMN. "How far can we get?" "Half way there." "Any escape pods?" "Not a one." It's over, isn't it? "We can't take them on; if we try to fight, we can't even take one of them out before they take us down. Do we have any options, Ensign?" "None that I can see. Sir." Shit. "How long do we have?" "Twelve minutes and the Dreadnaught catches up. It's launching fighters now, sir." "Transfer all life support to the communications system. Transmit at full power. Get it back to Earth. We can't let this die with us." "Acknowledged." It wasn't going to help, of course. But it was the last thing they could do. The Ensign reported: "Pulse away." The engines stopped. Maybe I was wrong. "Ensign! Turn the ship around and fire all remaining missiles at that Dreadnaught! Maybe we can take out the captain of that ship before we die..." A small explosion ripped through the rear of the ship. Then another. And another. The Ensign spoke. "The fighters caught up with us, Captain! They're ripping us to shreds..." Another explosion ripped through the ship. This time, the Ensign fell. The Captain reached for the fire control systems. Maybe he could fire off one of the missiles, do _some_ damage... There was another explosion. The front of the ship just suddenly wasn't there anymore. Then, suddenly, nothing was. -- Deep Space, near Alpha Saurus 2:03PM ship time, USS Huron December 28, 2133 There went the buzzer. Time to wake up. Wait a second. It's only 1400. Wake-up time's 1530. What happened... Oh. Communications. Damn. At least the hangover's not too bad. "This is Holtz. What can I do for you?" The voice that came over the line was that of Commander Red "Blood" Terwilliger, officer in charge of Beta shift. Their shift only had five men; the ship had been unable to replace their weapons officer after the last fight, and so they remained undermanned. "Sorry to wake you, Captain, but I think that we've got a problem." Sigh. Why do these things always require the captain, Holtz wondered. "What kind of problem, Red? What required waking up a very tired officer who had just thrown the party of the year?" Red was the one who had enjoyed it most; she always did. "Janice...we just got an incoming message pulse from the Vela system. It's the Julian." The Julian. That was Max's ship. "Go ahead." "Janice...their ship was under attack by an entire Hierarchy fleet." No. It can't be. "What...what the hell? What happened to Max? Red...what happened?" "The message was a short pulse. No more. I haven't gotten anything more in." "But...Max..." "We believe his ship was destroyed, Captain." Max...dead..."Holtz out." She clicked off her communications board; then she turned on the privacy switch. Max? Dead? She never cried. She hadn't cried when her father's ship had been destroyed by a Podship, when her brother has been killed in a surface battle with an Androsynth infiltrator, when her best friend had been part of the Slaughter of Wolf...through it all, she had stayed firm, not daring to cry. She couldn't afford to show weakness. At least, that's what she told herself. More likely, she'd always held on to Max. Her husband, though far away, though she didn't see him for months on end...he always helped her get through it all. The knowledge that he was out there, somewhere, waiting to see her again...it made it all worth it. Now... -- Deep Space, near Alpha Saurus 2:14PM ship time, USS Huron December 28, 2133 Commander Terwilliger knew what was going to happen. It didn't make it any easier. Here she came. The bridge doors opened, and in stepped Janice Holtz. She was known as a good captain in the fleet...if unpredictable. It was a strange combination in the woman: stoic, almost always completely unemotional, but prone to bursts of those emotions that she always kept bottled in. In times of battle, nothing could beat her emotions; in times of crisis, they were just plain scary. And this was a time of crisis. She spoke. "Commander Aaron." Aaron, of course, didn't know what was going on. He was only a Lieutenant Commander; he wasn't supposed to have read the Captain's psychological readout, and didn't know her personally. He was too uptight to have cheated, either. "Yes, sir?" Janice, "Iceblood" behind her back, did what her psychological readout predicted. "Set course to Vela. Maximum speed." Aaron didn't know what to say about that. "Sir?" "I said set course for Vela, Commander. Which word did you not understand?" Again, that was right within what the profile said. Time for her to pipe in. "Captain...Janice." Holtz turned towards her. "Red; we're setting course for Vela!" "Janice...it's over." "We don't know that!" Still within the profiles. Hopefully, that will continue. "He might still be alive out there!" "Janice...he's gone! We can't do anything about it!" "We don't know that, Red! He might still be alive! Commander," she said as she again turned towards Aaron, "set course for Vela!" "Aaron, belay that order." Aaron, of course, was looking back and forth between the two of them. "Sirs?" It's important to do this right. "I said to belay that order. Set course for Earth, as ordered." And, from the Iceblood: "Belay _that_ order, Aaron! Set course for Vela!" Still within parameters. "Aaron, if you do that, you will be countermanding direct orders from Earth. Don't do it." "Aaron, if you _don't_ do it, you'll be disobeying direct orders from _me_." Janice wasn't going to give this one up. "Aaron, set course for Earth." "This is mutiny!" Janice was fuming now. She didn't do that often...but this was a crisis for her. This was the dangerous time. She wasn't _just_ good at fighting; she also knew her crew. "Aaron, set course for Earth." Best to ignore her...once. "Commander Terwilliger! You are out of line! Commander Aaron! Set course for Vera!" Time to fight back. "Captain! It's hopeless! Your husband is dead! There's no way he could have survived the fight! We can't do anything more about it! There is no need to do this!" She had to stop the captain now, before she could actually do what she wanted... "Red! There's a chance, and that's what we're hoping for, dammit! What do you think this entire bloody way is based on? We're losing the war, and losing, bad, don't you see? The Chenjesu can't hold off the Ilwrath, Mycon, _and_ Ur-Quan! The Mmrnmhrm can only take down so many Umgah and Spathi! The Yehat and Syreen have their hands full with the VUX alone! And our own damned creations, those fucking Androsynth, they're destroying us because we can't do anything about it! The whole war is us grasping at straws...it's only a matter of time now, and the only thing we can do is try to save as many of us as we can! Goddamit, even if Max is dead, we have the avenge him! We're not just going to give up, even if we have to die first..." It all made some sort of twisted sense. That's how she worked, of course. Her logic _was_ twisted, of course; that's what made her. Red knew better. But the crew didn't. "Janice, we can't do anything! We're going to go home, refit, then go out again; we'll kick some major Hierarchy ass when we get a decent ship, for God's sake! Hold off for just a couple of weeks; it's almost the new year, we can make it..." Janice drew a gun. What? In the psychological profile, it said she never used guns... "Red," she started, her eyes glazed over. "We're going to Vela. You aren't going to stop me. This is a chance, yes. I don't fucking care. You got that, _Lieutenant_ Terwilliger?" Shit. "Janice...no, we can't do it. It's suicide..." This was desparate. The whole thing's _wrong_, isn't it? "Red. We're going to Vela. Aaron...set course for Vela." What to do? What to do? Damn...move and die, that's it, isn't it? Why hasn't the security officer stopped it? Why...he believes it too. And everyone else. "Setting course, sir." That was Aaron. Mutiny is hopeless when nobody else believes you. "Captain, I urge you..." "Shut up, Red. Urdli," she said, gesturing to the security officer on duty, "escort Ms. Terwilliger to the brig." Damn. This could be bad. -- Vela 6:17PM ship time, USS Huron January 4, 2134 The crew was with her. Everyone except Red. Everyone supported her. "Sir?" It was Jenkins. Good ol' Gamma shift. "Vela Prime is just ahead. Your orders?" "Enter orbit. We're going to send down a team." Maybe Max was down there. That's where the debris had gone. "I'm going with it." Yet Red piped up. Why had she let her out? "Captain, I must object. We can't risk you..." "Ms. Terwilliger, that is _enough_. I did not let you on my bridge to let you keep questioning my orders..." "Captain! Regulations require that you stay aboard!" Damned woman. Yet... "Ms. Terwilliger, I don't give an Umgah fart about the fragging regulations. If I want to go, I'll go. But," it was time for a concession, "in this case I will yield to your judgement. Instead, you will go." Finally. A chance to get rid of her. "Captain?" "Get to the landing pod. Dismissed." Maybe she'd learn to like her command again. -- Vela Prime 7:02PM ship time, USS Huron January 4, 2134 Red was in charge of the party. They had landed, of course, her and two security men, whose names she didn't remember off hand. She flipped on the communicator. "We've landed. I'm opening the hatch..." It was a beautiful planet. About earth gravity, an orangish sky, plenty of plants and apparently some animals; they had landed on the smaller continent, where the wreckage of the Earth ship USS Julian probably lay. They were to look for survivors, and/or evidence of the destroyers of the Julian. Unfortunately, after an hour of searching, they found nothing matching either description. "Captain," she said into the communicator, "there's nothing here. Nothing." It was true...and maybe it would be enough for her to give up her search. Jenkins' voice came through the speaker. "The Captain requests that you keep looking." Damn. "Acknowledged..." ...but she didn't have to be happy about it. -- Vela Prime 9:45PM ship time, USS Huron January 4, 2134 They'd been searching for hours. It was time to give up hope. Even Holtz knew it. Surrender... "I have more orders coming in from Earth, sir." Jenkins again. He's said that at least thirty times over the last few days. "Ignore them." Just a little longer. "Just ignore them." "Sir, they're sending out a fleet to get us. Three Arilou Skiffs. They're apparently going to arrive in less than two hours." Damn. Why did they care? "Ignore them." They couldn't do anything about it. Shit. -- Vela System 9:46PM ship time, Arilou Skiff LoLaLeeLou January 4, 2134 Admiral Schiltz was the first human ever allowed on an Arilou skiff. And now, years later, he captained one, and had for years. "Schlitz?" There was a slight giggle in that voice, which came with the name. "The ship is directly ahead." Arilou have strange voices. "How long?" He was lucky; this crew knew him well enough to actually give him the time in units. "Thirty-seven minutes, your time." Fair enough. Five minutes later, the ship exploded in a fiery explosion. -- Vela Prime 10:45PM ship time, USS Huron January 4, 2134 "Captain?" "I know, Jenkins. Three ships just appeared on scanners. Evade them. Is the landing pod aboard yet?" "Yes, sir, the pod is aboard...but sir, about the ships..." Nothing really made sense any more, no. But something was up. "What about the ships?" "One is an Umgah Drone. One is an Ur-Quan Dreadnaught. One is a Spathi Eluder." The fleet. "Arm torpedoes and lasers. We're taking this fleet down. Prepare for battle." It was the only thing she could do. -- Vela Prime 10:45PM ship time, Spathi Eluder DeathWing January 4, 2134 "The Earth ship is charging its weapons." "Who does it aim at?" "The Umgah Drone, sir." "You know what to do." "Yes sir." -- Vela Prime 10:46PM ship time, USS Huron January 4, 2134 The battle was on screen. She was in total control of the ship. The starts were beautiful in the distance. Janice Holtz, known as Iceblood to her crew, was the best fighter there was. That's why her crew had followed her in an insane plan to attempt to rescue her dead husband. That was the _only_ reason. It was insane, yes, and she knew it. She didn't care. Only Red, the one who had been with them the least time, yet was her best friend...only she had been an obstacle. Yet, she had not controlled the ship. It was Janice that was in control of the ship. It was Janice was that in charge of the stars. The Umgah ship was barelling towards them, back forward, its antimatter cone temporarily off. Both ships neared the planet, hoping for the additional speed of a gravity whip. Both ships accelerated in the blackness of space, hoping to get off a shot... The point-defense laser went off. The Umgah ship was hurt, but not bad. It was also close enough to use its antimatter cone to great effectiveness... Janice entered the gravity whip at full speed. She turned her ship around in the middle of it, fired the laser again, and then threw two nuclear missiles out the port. Both hit their target. The Umgah drone exploded noiselessly. In the mean time, of course, the Ur-Quan and Spathi ships had closed in from opposite sides. She was flanked. Shit, it was probably the Ur-Quan that took out Max, she thought. Let's see if I can take it down to hell with me. She fired a missile at the approaching ship. Then another. The Dreadnaught shot down the first of the two, and shrugged off the second; it launched fighters at that, hundreds of them it seemed, filling the surrounding space with them. Then the fighters converged on the Earthling. The point defense laser took care of most of them, but was distracted enough that it could do nothing about the large fusion blast coming at them from the mouth of the Dreadnaught. Janice heard the shouts of the crew. Five...no, six men were down. Two from this shift... Oh shit. The luck was broken. The Spathi advanced on the other flank. The Ur-Quan turned to fire another fusion blast at the virtually helpless cruiser... -- Vela Prime 10:48PM ship time, Spathi Eluder DeathWing January 4, 2134 "Fire Torpedoes." "Firing." -- Vela Prime 10:48PM ship time, USS Huron January 4, 2134 Janice watched in amazement as four of the Spathi's BUTT's (Backwards Utilized Tracking Torpedoes) hit the rear of the Ur-Quan dreadnaught. The Ur-Quan ship, in amazement, turned towards the Spathi ship, and opened fire. The broadcast frequencies were filled with the sound of a Talking Pet: "You have fired upon a ship of your Masters, Spathi. Further violations will be taken as cause to destroy your race." It fired three fusion blasts at the ungainly Spathi ship...which managed to dodge them all. Janice was too stunned to act. The frequencies were filled again. "Master 52...never mind. Earthling cruiser...welcome to the Death Wing. Enjoy the fireworks." It was the voice of a...Spathi? No. It couldn't be. Four more torpedoes fired out of the rear of the Spathi ship. All hit their mark. Janice suddenly realized that she had an opportunity, and fired a missile of her own. The Ur-Quan ship exploded in the onslaught. Janice had a second to look around. Apparently, this ship...a _Spathi_ ship...had just saved them. Spathi don't do that. Spathi were too scared to do that. The black-and-red striped Spathi -- odd, she'd never seen one with those colors before -- came a little bit closer, then stopped. The Spathi ship again opened the hyperwave frequencies. "Greetings. I hope you don't mind that we just saved your ship from certain destruction..." Janice placed the voice. She opened frequencies herself. "M...Max?" -- Earth 12:34AM Eastern Standard Time, Hilton Head Island January 15, 2134 "Next...we have the case of Vela." President Margaret Hutchens didn't want to hear that. "Any news?" "Not yet," said her aide. "The fleet we sent out has not yet reported in. There is no report from the Huron. We have been effectively cut off." "Recommendations?" "We were considering sending out another fleet, madame. Something to find out what happened..." "Do we have any rumors?" "Not much. There have been no reports of enemy activity in the Vela system; however, there have been reports of the DeathWings using it as a temporary base of operations..." "The DeathWings?" "The DeathWings. An elite squad of shis, led by several renegade Spathi." "What the...renegade _SPATHI_?" "It is not well understood, madame." The communicator beeped twice. A new message had arrived. The President keyed it up. "Hey. It's a message...from Vela." The aide was shocked. "WHAT?" The president pressed the "play" button. "Greetings from the DeathWings! "Yes, we are on your side, Mrs. President. We are a fleet of explorers, vigilantes...the end of the fighters. Maybe we can do some good out here. "I am Captain Holtz. My crew has elected to stay with me. I have sent this message to say that I resign my commission, as I have no need for the Earth fleet. I can do more good out here. "I also bring news: your fleet sent out to find us was destroyed by an Ur-Quan Dreadnaught. That Dreadnaught is now destroyed. We have done a quick survey of Vela Prime, and believe that it would be a prime location for research; send out a ship or something. "Oh, and if you see any _large_ Arilou ships, painted black and red, don't worry. We're on your side. "Good luck. We estimate that you will survive for approximately six more months. That's another reason we have to leave; we can't let all hope die with you. Don't take our word for it, though... "This war is not over. Even in defeat, do not surrender hope. Hopefully, we can make up the difference. "Oh, and I repeat, you'd like Vela Prime. Trust me on that one. It'll matter over who controls the stars... "Janice Holtz...out." The aide looked shocked. "But...that was completely incoherent!" "Yes. It was." The president was not caring...she was merely intrigued... "We can't make this public!" "No. We can't." It took her five minutes of thinking to decide. "Who is our best research captain?" "Uh...madame President, that would be...Burton, I suppose, Madame. What does it matter?" "Send out a research mission. Make an excuse for it. Burton will be in command. Code-name it 'Project Star Control.' Maybe they weren't lying." "But..." "Just do it. Dismissed." The aide left. There were plans to make.