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Adelaide rolled, only half by choice, out of her chair. Chittering, slumping to the floor as sparks flew and smoke billowed where she'd been. Her plum-colored eyes stung, even as she shielded her face with a wing-arm. The whole ship was quaking. Her sweeping, angular ears strained.

"Twenty degrees starboard!"

"The impulse manifold is losing power!"

The bridge was dark, almost completely, lit only by the bleeding hues of the emergency lights, as well as whatever computer consoles were still working. And there, in the midst of it all, was the captain on the floor. Wren. A ruby gash down his cheek, reaching to his neck. The fur matted on either side of the cut. Blood on the carpet. He wasn't moving.

" ... I still have one phase canon." Heavy breathing. "Firing, now! Three-second burst ... "

Thrum-thrum-thrum!

"They're returning fire! Brace for ... "

A shriek! And a squeak, swallowed up by even more sparks.

" ... impact!"

Desperate coughing.

The ship tilted. Hard. Just as Adelaide was getting back up, sending her against the wall. She flailed, hitting it at an awkward angle. Smack! Losing her breath, so shaken. Dizzy. Feeling liable to get sick. Another jostle, her winged arm unable to get out of the way as a piece of bulkhead dropped from the ceiling. And then the snap, finally.

Field's ears, so keen, heard the sound above the mayhem. And his mate's telepathic feelers flailed out in pain, piercing through his own panicked mind. It was one of the worst things he'd ever felt.

" ... incoming!"

Ba-BOOM!

"Ah-h!"

What was going on?

What ... what ...

" ... what the hell did they want?" Rella shouted. "Who were they?" She was visibly angry. Livid, was more like it. Her uniform tattered. Squirrel tail, normally so bushy, silky, and soft, was littered with debris. Stained from plasma leaks. She looked a mess.

"I don't know," Field stammered, whiskers twitching. "Why would I know?"

She glared at him. "Field ... "

"I don't know!" he shouted, paws visibly trembling. He needed water. He turned away from her, fumbling for an emergency rations kit. Taking out a silvery water pack. Tearing it open with his rodent buckteeth. And the water dribbled from his lips, down his chin. Drops hitting the floor. He swallowed, gulped, and simply dropped the empty packet on the floor of the conference room. He panted. "Oh ... gosh ... "

Rella sighed, closing her eyes and swallowing. Leaning forward, as if about to pass out. Supporting herself by putting paws, pads down, on the tabletop. It was no longer smooth. Covered, instead, by a grainy film. She breathed erratically.

Whiskers twitching even more, the mouse reached for another water pack. And, again, tore it open with his teeth. Padding to the squirrel and bringing it to her muzzle. "Drink it."

A head-shake.

"Please? That's an order."

A huff, tilting her head back. Opening her muzzle.

He squeezed the water in.

She gulped it down, as much as she could. And then wiped her lips with the back of her paw, nodding her appreciation.

"Are you okay?" Field whispered, after a moment.

"My mate's got a concussion. He's in sickbay, where most of the important medical equipment is currently useless. Main power is down, and, uh, well ... yeah, I'm peachy." A pause. Making sure he understood the sarcasm before adding, "I am not fucking okay!" she shouted, taken aback at how violent she sounded.

Field shirked, twitching. "Don't yell at me ... " It was an honest, little plea.

"I'm not yelling. I'm venting, Field! I'm ... " She slammed a paw down on the table-top. Wincing. "I'm venting," she said, voice dropping to a whisper.

"You d-don't know how bad my anxiety is right now ... "

"I'm anxious, too. Believe me."

"My species has it worse. You know that." He took a deep, tortured breath. "I'm holding myself together. Adelaide would normally be helping me, but guess what? She's in sickbay, too!" His eyes watered. He sniffled, desiring her warmth, her velvety, winged embrace. Most of all, her toothy confidence. "You're not the only one who's having a bad day."

An audible exhale. She took his cheeks in her paws, soothingly. Because he needed the contact. So did she, to be honest. And she brought his forehead to hers, closing her eyes. "I know," she whispered. "Look, it's gonna be okay."

"What makes you think that?" Whiskers twitching, tensely. Tangling with her own. Almost mouthing the words.

"Because." She opened her eyes, slowly.

Still barely audible. "That's not a good answer."

She let go of him, looking away. "It's the best I can give you, Field." The conference room was very dim. They were totally in shadow. Their bodies in silhouettes. "Right now, you're the first officer. You're in command. I can't say I'm totally comfortable with that, but ... "

"I'm not incompetent."

"I didn't say you were."

Field was quiet for a moment. "When Adelaide broke her wing, I heard it." A painful head-shake. And a heart-throb. "I almost felt it. Her telepathy? We have a bond, now, and ... "

" ... we both love our mates, okay? We're both worried. But we have to put that aside right now. We have a responsibility to the crew. The ship. The mission. Alright?" Here, in space, crippled as they were, time was of the essence. They couldn't be paralyzed by their worry or their love. That sounded like such a cold thing to think. It made her hate herself.

Field closed his eyes. "I have a headache ... "

"Field, what are we going to do?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Cause you," she stressed, "are in command, remember?"

"Oh. Right."

Frankly, she wouldn't mind taking control, but ... " ... I won't break the chain of command. Or Wren's faith in you." Rella cleared her throat. Her eyes were itchy from the smoke and the haze of the attack, which had ended half an hour ago. Leaving Luminous limping into a purple-pink nebula. Where enemy sensors couldn't pinpoint them, and where weapons couldn't acquire target-locks. But those ships could very well be lurking outside the perimeter. Waiting for the slightest emergence. Like sharks sensing blood.

Field, calming a little, said, "I think they may have been pirates? Did you see how they tried to latch onto our cargo bay? The shuttle bay, too? They scanned our holds. I'm sure they were pirates. We passed through their 'territory,' and they attacked. Something like that." A pause. "I think we destroyed one of their ships. I saw one of them tumbling end over end before the view-screen stopped working." The screen had, in fact, exploded, knocking out the backup helm offer. A skunk.

The squirrel nodded quietly. "That sounds feasible, I think. I mean, that's probably the best bet on what," she said, coughing, "happened. I don't know. I just ... I don't know. I'm assuming it's predators behind this. Whoever it is ... they're gonna regret it."

" ... yeah." Field's whiskers twitched. "We should do a crew count."

"I already told Ketchy to start one. I mean, we have ... " A slight tic. " ... I know there are several injuries. Half the senior staff. A few of them," she said, choking up, "um ... a few of them are serious, but I don't think anyone's dead," she said, "yet." She hesitated to say it, cause it sounded like a cliche, but, "It could've been worse."

Worse. The word seemed to echo. Like a pale din from a tolling bell.

"If we can get our engines working ... we just need to leave the nebula, and then gun the engines. Those ships were smaller. I think they might be more maneuverable at slower speeds, but once we start ourselves up? They won't be able to catch us. Without the element of surprise this time, we can win. We just need to get out of their territory."

Field nodded. Grooming his whiskers, subconsciously. Licking the pads of his paws, tilting his head. Swiping at them.

"Field ... " A frown face.

The mouse stopped. Twitching. "Yeah ... sorry. Instinct," he said, nodding. Blue-grey eyes looking pale. "Yes, I, uh ... I think that's right."

"So, that's our plan?"

"Um ... " The mouse still looked in a daze. "Yes?"

"Field, don't go schizophrenic on me. Please," Rella asked. "We have to get out of here, now. With all the hull breaches we have, the nebula will leak through affected areas. Will short out systems. Maybe poison the air. We need to get engines online, limp out of here, and ... "

"I know."

"Just making sure." A pause. "I'm gonna go work on the weapons, myself. I mean, that's part of my job. And the targeting sensors," she added, making a verbal list. "You're gonna have to manage the rest. Stay on the bridge. Alright?"

Field met her eyes, nodding. That long, ropy tail of his was wavering about aimlessly, like it was lost.

She looked back at him, understanding why Wren and Adelaide both liked him. He was cute, obviously. But he was gentle. He didn't want to hurt anything. He was almost innocent.

He bit his lip. "Let's scurry to it, I guess?"

She smiled slightly at his words. "Okay ... is that an order?"

"I think so."

"Good enough." She nodded briskly, turning to leave the conference room. Looking over her shoulder. "You coming?"

He scurried after her, carefully, with a squeak.

Hours later, on the bridge.

"You're okay, right?"

The mouse blinked, having been lost in thought. Mostly about Adelaide.

Ketchy, disheveled, stood in front of him. "Field?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired." He was. Terribly. And he felt so helpless. Which maybe wasn't a good thing, since he was supposed to be in command. Self-doubt began to seep in.

"We all are."

"I know that," he said, more tersely than intended. "What time is it ... "

"1 AM."

A sigh. Were things running normally, he'd be in bed right now. With his mate. He just couldn't stop thinking about her. No matter how hard he tried. "Tell engineering to, uh ... work faster."

"I told them that. Twice." She wasn't about to tell them again. She didn't need to get on Juneau's bad side.

"Third time's the charm."

"Field," said Ketchy, straining her voice, as if she were about to let loose on him. But she bit her tongue. "Alright. I'll, uh, tell them that ... you know, we're in a dire situation, and they need to stop drinking their coffee and having sex and, uh, get to work."

"Your sarcasm is noted, lieutenant."

She looked to him. He'd never called her by rank. But, then, they hadn't really spoken since Pelios Station. When she had taken all those jabs at Adelaide. When she had told him he was awkward to be around.

"Um ... where's Rella?" he asked, looking around. Sniffing the air for her. He'd been relying on her judgment throughout this whole ordeal.

"In the armory."

"Oh."

"She'll be back in ten minutes. But she said, um ... that was actually two hours ago. But none of the lifts are working. We have to use the access tubes."

He nodded.

"Field," said Ketchy.

The sound of sparks and welding tools permeated the dimness of the bridge. The main viewer. They were trying to restore it.

"Field, I'm sorry about those things I said. I never told you. I was meaning to, but it was ... every time I wanted to, I felt uncomfortable." She twitched. "But I'm sorry, okay?"

"I forgive you," was all the mouse replied. Voice soft. Almost brittle.

She didn't know what to say to that. She hadn't expected it to be that easy. Only, "Uh ... well. Thank you." A pause. "I'll go back to my station, I guess. I need to coordinate the repair efforts."

"Alright."

She slowly went away, looking over her shoulder. Worried for him. She could almost see the silent, fervent prayers, the ones being woven and airmailed by his mind. Mouses weren't designed for combat. They were the most prey-like of prey. He'd gotten into the command track under the assumption that he would be used on peaceful diplomatic missions. And this was neither peaceful or diplomatic.

" ... bloody hell!" Rella shouted. Dodging sparks. "Someone warn me next time, huh?" Her voice rattled off the bulkheads. "Fuck."

"I can't predict EPS overloads!" Azure shouted back. "I'm a botanist, not a clairvoyant ... "

"Well, look, just ... " Rella sighed, craning her neck to the ceiling. Closing eyes. Breathe. Count to three, she instructed herself. "Just make sure the torpedo tubes are operating on primary power. Make sure the magnetic relays are pulling the shells into alignment."

"What if they're not?"

"Then they'll detonate in the launch tubes instead of being vacuum shot into space. We'll end up destroying ourselves."

"Oh ... "

"Just check the read-outs. Tell me what it says ... on that screen. That one." She looked to her fellow squirrel. Pointing, emphatically.

He chattered with agitation. "It's not working."

"The mag-levs or the readout?"

"Uh ... the screen?"

"Well, try another one ... "

Azure did, using a paw-pad to wipe it clear, read the information he saw.

Rella nodded. Sighing. "Okay. Good. We got torpedo power. In one launcher, anyway."

"Have," Azure emphasized. "Have torpedo power. Not 'got'."

Rella glared at him. Eyes widening. She was not in the mood.

Azure gulped and shut up.

Rella tapped at some controls. They made fizzle-fizzle sounds (rather than the normal melodic beeps and bops) as if they weren't working. Not a big surprise.

How many ships had swarmed on them? Five? Six? Like hornets, they had come, belligerent by nature. No rhyme or reason. It was kind of ironic. She had expected (as they all had) that their first major attack would come from the wasps. Especially after that ordeal with the 'future human.'

But, no, plain and simple pirates. How vulgar. It ticked her off. If they were gonna be battered and badgered to a blood-furred pulp, couldn't someone of importance do it? Someone of substance? Pirates? Who grew up wanting to be a pirate? How the hell did that happen? How did ...

" ... Rella?"

"Yeah?"

A pitiful chitter. "My eyes are gonna fall out."

Rella barked out a laugh. Chuckling. "Yeah?" She turned to look at Azure.

"Well ... they might."

"I'm sorry." A smile. Gosh, it felt good to smile, even if it was for sardonic reasons. "You just sound so relieved at the prospect of your eyes falling out."

"Well, I'm tired. They hurt. And my beautiful tail ... I'm going to spend hours grooming it when this is over."

"I know what you mean."

"Also, I could use some ... "

" ... just shut your muzzle, Azure. That's an order."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm going back to the bridge. You can run the armory."

"I know nothing about weapons!" he protested.

"They're just like plants ... "

"What?" He frowned.

"Well, they aren't, but ... pretend that they are." She pried open the door, slipping into the corridor.

Azure frowned, looking around. "I wonder what'd happen if I watered them ... "

"Alright," Rella said, husky-voiced. It was past 2 AM. "Um ... " She closed her eyes, feeling liable to collapse. "Um ... engines are ready. We're ready to do this. I don't think we should wait. This nebula is affecting our systems more than Juneau thought. She says structural integrity could be weakening."

"Okay, then," Field whispered, sounding like glass. "I'm pretty much in agreement." He was fully in agreement, actually.

The bridge was looking just a tad bit better than before. Repair crews had hauled away the biggest bits of debris. They would definitely need to settle in somewhere for repairs once they got out of this. Some furry station or outpost somewhere. Hopefully, somewhere close. A friendly harbor.

Field looked to the helm. Which was being run by a fellow mouse. Who was, in fact, the main helms-fur.

"Chester," Field said.

"Yeah?" Ears swiveled. His fur was creamy-colored, with black spots (here and there). Piebald, was the correct term.

"Nose us out of the nebula. Cautiously. The pirates will see us emerge. You're gonna have to do some fancy flying. As soon as we're free ... " A nod. " ... full-speed ahead."

" ... like a bat out of hell," Rella added, for good measure.

"Hey," went Field, slowly, with a scrunch-face.

"Eh, sorry."

Chester, whiskers twitching, nodded and turned his attention back to the helm. "Readying rear thrusters. Impulse manifolds at forty percent."

Rella filtered to tactical. They would undoubtedly need to get a few shots off before they made it to warp. It was all about timing. Just one or two hits to the nacelles could leave them dead in the water. Again.

Field moved to the Captain's chair. He didn't want to sit in it. Felt like maybe it would brand him or something. But his knees were wobbling, and he needed to sit. So, he did. Holding his ropy tail in his paws, wringing it nervously. The crew was waiting for his command. He let his tail go, with a sigh, gripping the arm-rests, now. Clearing his throat. "Take us out ... "

Chester, at helm, just nodded and gave a bit of a squeak. Tap-a-tap. Tap-a. His fingers flew with a sense of scurry.

Rella's eyes darted from one mouse to the other. One mouse in command. The other piloting the ship. Two mouses in charge of this outcome? Oh, boy. Her prey heart raced, and she focused on the weapons. Making sure they were up-and-ready. Making sure she didn't think of Wren. His strength of personality. And his physical presence, as well.

Luminous slid toward the edge of the nebula, the wispy, colored space-clouds parting across the bow. As if bestowing it honor for still being intact.

"Sensors should be coming online any second," said Ketchy. From comm.

"I wanna know where they are," Field said quietly, of the pirates.

"Maybe they lost interest. Maybe they went away," said a fourth fur on the bridge, from the darkness.

"I doubt it," was Rella's dark reply.

Little beeps and buzzes from the computer.

"Ketchy?"

"I see them. Five ships. A few hundred thousand miles off." Tap-tap. "They've seen us." She paused. Looked up. "They're coming back."

Field's breath was shaky as he let it out. He wanted to stand from his chair. Pace about. Like Wren would do. Wren could never sit still during times like this. He was always so antsy. It was a rodent thing. But Field was too shaky to stand. He simply, submissively sat in his chair. Leaning forward slightly. "Chester, warp us out ... now."

Chester's nervous paws flew over the controls. His paw-pads were sweating, and they slipped a few times.

Field waited.

"Fifty thousand miles."

Rella waited.

"Twenty-five thousand."

"Chester," called Field. "Now would be a good time."

"I'm ... it's sluggish to respond! It's ... "

" ... they're almost on top of us!"

And the ship suddenly lurched, suddenly jerked. Violently. Not from weapons fire, but from the engines kicking in, jolting them forward. Slow, slow, fast, faster, and vaulting them into warp speed. Wa-ZOOM! Past the pirates. Past the nebula. Past this system. Out into the deeper depths of space. 'Til the stars were streaking.

Field sighed and sank in his chair. Flooded with relief. "Are they following? Can we outrun them?"

Rella tapped a few buttons. "They are pursuing. But we're staying ahead. I think we're gonna make it."

The rest of the bridge crew clapped their paws, smiling happily.

Field, smiling himself, shyly turned and met Rella's gaze. She bit her lip and smiled back at him. Nodding to him. They held their gazes for a moment before turning away. The lateness of the hour was appalling. But they still had a lot to do.

A day later, Luminous was nearing a snow rabbit outpost. Just on the other side of the Federation border. They'd come this far in two weeks time. The snow rabbits had received Luminous' call of distress, and had agreed to provide a docking port. 'Any and all assistance in repairs,' they had said. It would probably take a week to get the ship back into shape, but it would also give the crew time to rest and heal. They certainly needed it ...

Field, in sickbay, held to his mate's paw. She lay on a bio-bed, weak-eyed. Her winged arm was still very sore, in spite of the bone-break being mended. "You need anything?" he asked her, tenderly.

"I was gonna ask you," Adelaide whispered, "the same thing." She smiled. Pink and flushing, warm and sweet. Like an ember as it flared. That's what she did: stirred the embers of the mouse's heart. "Don't worry, okay? I'll live," was the bat's eventual reply.

"I'm not worrying."

"I'm telepathic, Field."

" ... maybe worrying," he admitted, "a little bit? But I'm just so glad you're okay." Eyes watering. "I love you so much ... "

She reached up with her good arm. Caressed his cheek an' whiskers with a paw. _I love you, too. _

On the other side of sickbay, Rella similarly stroked Wren's cheek. He was healing, too, but was sleeping. She didn't wish to wake him. But she couldn't wait to have him back. To have him up and about and in her arms.

Kody, from his big-windowed office, watched the love-crazed females soothing their mates. Feeling a pang of jealousy. Yearning, maybe, was the more appropriate term. He sighed. He obviously had a complicated emotional and sexual history. With both Wren and Field.

But, hey, they were headed for a snow rabbit station, right? Or that's what he'd been told. And most rabbits were open-breeders. And with the holo-suites still off-line from the attack, he was desperate for something. Real bodies were always better than simulations. And he'd never been with a snow rabbit ... his thoughts wandering, imagination hoping and hopping. Hopefully ...

... Field, as he pulled himself away from Adelaide (still being in command, he was needed back on the bridge), made eye contact with the doctor.

Kody blinked and waved his paw. More like opened and closed his fingers, gently. 'Hey,' he mouthed.

The mouse shyly returned the gesture. Almost mouthing something back. But not quite. Swallowing, he turned away and scurried out the door while Luminous, at half-speed, soared to its friendly port.