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Acting Captain, Lieutenant Commander Trillian Spears held back a bored sigh and resisted the urge to scrub his hands across his face in annoyance. The contract that High Command had secured for him felt like a folly; after all, it wasn't every day a dedicated deep space destroyer got sent out to track a single target - that being the one man in a ship that was no bigger than the standard attack shuttle. It felt more like a job for a corvette - possibly one of the mixed bags, which was half sensor ship and half gun ship. They were perfect for poking about in voids and dead star systems what with their low profiles and emissions, and they made for excellent get-away ships too, with a power curve that was surprisingly intense for such a small ship class.

He looked to his main monitor and brought up the location's profile. It was a small file, comprised of multiple, smaller files. In total, it was a paltry 500GB in size. It had been provided by the local authorities of the nearest neighbouring star systems and was updated whenever something happened. He started reading it again, mostly out of boredom. In the last ten years, fifteen stars had been snuffed out, deepening the lifeless trench that surrounded the still-active stars within. The network of systems was tagged as Thymion Empire and had the little red asterisk attached to its file that denoted it as one of the No-Go Zones in this particular arm of the Milky Way. The tiger finally let that sigh out. It was just his luck that this little bastard of a terrorist, Xanimus, would go chasing after a rumoured super weapon that was apparently tucked away in the territory of what was listed as a hostile Empire. His executive officer looked at him, the ferret's dark brow furrowing slightly.

''Just going over the mission files again, Owen, don't mind me.'' Trillian said softly so that no one else could overhear.

''Looking grimmer by the moment, isn't it?'' Owen replied equally as soft. He was as uncomfortable with this act of trespassing as Trillian was, no matter how many fancy words propped it up.

They both looked up from their work and at the giant wrap-around view screens that fed them a real-time view of the area they were sailing through. There were a few specks of white in the distance, but the rest was black and littered with debris fields where planets once were. A few small singularities had been detected in the far reaches of the various dead systems that made up the enshrining void, but no matter how much he wished for them to be the terrible aftermath of a young civilisation experimenting with singularity drives, he knew a slice of the truth. It was listed in the file he had been given before leaving Kollari Station; a long list of ships from various societies, with various tasks in mind - war, exploration, science, relief vessels - had all vanished without a trace. And those singularities were the last words of dying stars.

A proximity alarm derailed his grim train of thought and he looked at his tactical display, frowning at the data it was spewing onto the screen. A giant rift in space-time had opened up frighteningly close to them and something huge slid into realspace, blocking the view of the flickering lights in the distance.

''Captain? I'm detecting a... er-'' Ensign Druven Trat looked up, looking to Lieutenant Shonn Vulwen at Tactical for confirmation of what she was seeing. The void elf looked just as confused as the leopard.

''Well?'' Trillian said, bringing his sensors monitor around on its flexible arm and glaring at it. His glare turned into confusion, matching the leopard and void elf's expressions. The rift had deposited what appeared to be a small planet right in their path.

''Sir, I've detected what appears to be an asteroid or possibly a small lunar mass on our passives. But it's underway and heading straight towards us.''

Trillian sat upright in his seat, swallowing his less-than professional reply, his attention sharpening, ears forward, eyes narrowed. There shouldn't be anything but debris no bigger than a micro freighter out here. It was a void with nothing going for it, except to serve as an obvious warning to any outsiders who were finding themselves curious about what was beyond.

''Do we scan it?'' His XO asked, studying his own sensors monitor.

''No. Maintain stealth. Cut our drives,'' He ordered as a sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Asteroids and moons didn't travel through hyperspace.

''We're running completely dark, now sir,'' His XO whispered after a moment to pass the order along and see to it that it was done.

His mind raced as the already dim lighting dimmed even further and the Ranger held its breath. The only people he could think of who fielded anything of planetary mass that could move under its own power were the Synthenoid Empire, Tenglaari and the Bressis. All three had holdings in the Milky Way, but none were anywhere near this sector and the Ranger's passives were listing traits of this beast that barely matched the traits of the other three civilisations. And it certainly wasn't reading as a naturally occurring object.

''Captain, that's a ship,'' Trat sputtered. ''A single ship.''

''Are you sure?'' He demanded.

What his ship was giving him pointed to a tightly formed fleet, not a single ship. Unless it was a Q-Ship. He felt sick at that thought. He'd gone up against a Q-Ship only once before, long before he became a mercenary, and it hadn't gone well at all. Infact, that Q-Ship was the crux of the reason why he had decided to become a mercenary in the first place. Only this time, he had a destroyer that was quickly heading into retirement and not a super dreadnought that was still in its prime. To his left, his War Witch, a slim male Ishinn with crystalline feathers hummed softly to himself, eyes closed as he sat in the VIP's chair, concentrating on keeping the life signs of 250 people hidden from prying minds and auras. He looked like he was starting to struggle, his serene expression creasing into a more pained one.

''Captain, we've got an incoming message from the Unknown.'' The comms officer stated, deadpan. ''It's being transmitted on all frequencies, including the PsyNet.''

Trillian felt his eyes glaze over. If they were communicating through the Ranger's PsyNet... He suppressed a shudder as the idea of fifty-thousand psychics tearing his ship and crew apart slinked into the back of his mind and grinned devilishly at him.

''Play it,'' He said, licking his whiskers anxiously and then mentally chastising himself for it. He was the captain. And he would not show the true depth of his fear to his crew.

The Ranger's comm-lines opened and the auto-translate systems gurgled and sputtered in dismay as they rifled through the ship's datacore for linguistic matches. With each loop of the message, the translator's distress eased up as the words started forming into something more coherent. Lieutenant Lussan, the Jes'wan officer working comms, deftly manipulated the PsyNet settings, helping the translator coax the alien words into something understandable as it quietly and unobtrusively harvested all the nuances and inflections of this new language from the minds of its speakers. As fascinating as it was to log a new language into the ship's datacore and translation systems, it did little to ease the barely veiled suffering his bridge crew - and no doubt the rest of his crew - felt as the reality of their current situation sank in.

They had been discovered, their mission scrubbed and there was nothing that could be done about it. The covert In n' Out mission it had started out as had degenerated into an uncertainty that was as deep and pitiless as the void between the Four Galaxies. A cloying silence descended on the darkened bridge as they listened to the translated message play out in cold sternness.

''Unidentified ship. This is the Thymion dreadnaught, Daglia. You are ordered to reveal yourself! Drop your shields and power down your weapons, and prepare to receive a boarding party. You have violated Thymion Empire space. This is the only warning you will get. We will open fire in a universal wide dispersal in fifty seconds. Respond with acknowledgement now.''

The message continued repeating. The silence on the bridge deepened. They had been caught trespassing and the voice was not inviting any arguments or explanations about it.

Trillian ran through his options, coming up short. There was no back-up plan short of 'Get the hell out', due to the sector's listing as a No-Go Zone. Those zones always came with a 'If you go in, you're on your own,' footnote attached to them. He felt a fool for not arguing hard enough about this mission. If a seemingly xenophobic people can build a weapon to snuff out stars and destroy planets, then they would surely have a way of keeping that weapon from falling into the wrong hands. His mood went from stunned to sour in a heartbeat. If he ever got out of this alive, he would strangle Admiral Gensu for persuading everyone that this contract was a great idea.

The massive dreadnaught began to fire warning flares in multiple directions even as Trillian landed on his only option. One flare bounced off their hull, revealing their position, and the hulking ship was on them instantly. Then Mage Sergeant Tu'ronne Ushan gasped, clutching his head, doubling over in his seat. He appeared to be fine, but mentally, Trillian had no idea. He looked over to Owen. Thankfully, the ferret had taken note of Ushan's distress and had contacted medical to have him taken in for care.

''Bring our drives back online, shields up and prepare for evasive manoeuvres!'' Trillian snapped, swiftly returning his attention back to his sensors.

There was no way he was going to let hostile unknowns board his ship, especially with the knowledge that outsiders never survive contact with this race. If they were going to die, then they were going to die like stereotypical mercs: fighting to save their own hides and to hell with everyone else.

The Ranger shuddered as the four sublights came back online in a hurry and the destroyer turned, and began to run as fast as it could. Trillian was banking on his ship's faster acceleration and manoeuvrability to get his crew out of this mess, ordering navigation to plot the best evasive course to the debris field so they could break through and go to FTL.

''Drop stealth and pour everything we have into our sublights! I want to hit the slipstream in record time, people!'' He snapped.

The dimmed lights brightened and Lucas Mu gave a thumbs-up from the Countermeasures station, ''Engineering confirms that our sublights are starting to redline already. Our slipdrive is ready to engage on your command, Captain.''

''Excellent...'' His tactical and sensors monitors lit up with a warning and both started feeding him the data of what they had picked up.

A 10kg kinetic slug screamed past the bow of the destroyer, sending proximity sensors into a tizzy. The Ranger actually registered a slight rise in hull plate temperature where the round had passed so close to the nose of the ship. Seven more 10kg kinetic slugs sliced through the black forcing Trillian to declare a new set of evasive manoeuvres. The Ranger's shields came back online as it was forced into a spiralling pattern, evading more heavy slugs. The destroyer's point-defence cannons tracked the shots and opened fire, turning some of them into molten slag as they passed by the destroyer. The Ranger continued using its smaller size and manoeuvrability to its advantage, only taking glancing hits from the pursuing dreadnought, its ECMs screaming in its face as it fled.

Then the dreadnought opened up with a plasma cannon and started a fresh harassment pattern that Trillian had no idea of the intent of; capture, destroy or simply to scare away? Either way, the Ranger found itself herded into the nearby debris field, its shields not strong enough to withstand much more punishment. Trillian was amazed his shields had lasted so long against such a thick hail of rail gun and plasma shots. It had taken the giant dreadnought less than twenty minutes to herd the destroyer back into the outer layers of the debris field they had emerged from a couple of hours ago.

The Ranger could do nothing but skim the surface, bringing its acceleration down to less than a quarter sublight out of fear that a chunk of rock would break through their weakened shields and finish the destroyer off. Trillian noticed they were now almost completely stopped, having lost so much speed upon being forced into the debris field and being forced to dodge slugs that would tear three meter wide holes in his ship at their velocity.

The massive dreadnaught began to move closer then, lifting up slowly and coming to hover over the destroyer. Trillian realized what they were about to do. They were getting into position to take his ship. He snarled an order to reroute as much power from the slipdrive as possible and feed it into the shield systems so they could push further into the debris at a higher speed- and yet, there was no acceleration, no shuddering as if they had been caught in a tractor beam either. They just were not moving.

''Sir, we've stopped moving! Our sublights are now redlining but we have no forward momentum,'' Chief Li Bracken snapped as she manipulated the helm controls, murmuring to the Ranger as if that was the key to getting the destroyer moving forward again. The black bear swore acidly and twisted in her seat, looking at Trillian with pleading eyes. ''I'm just not able to get the ship to move. The thrust is there, but the momentum isn't. I don't get it!''

''I do...'' Trat said slowly, staring at her screens. She had just got her first good look at the Daglia, too, whilst everyone else was busy with managing their systems. ''We're being held in place by some kind of tractor beam. Looks like it's nullifying everything around us to hold us in place as opposed to just using the standard gravity-leash set-up. And look at this. We got a clear view of the Daglia, Sir. She's big. Super dreadnought size, looking to be at the heavyweight end of the class.''

He looked at the image of the massive ship that appeared on his sensors monitor and then looked at the realtime image of it displayed on the bridge view screens. It was enormous, elegant, and looked as if it had been carved from a single slab of material. And it was pointing its guns at him, but it was not attacking. From what he could count, there were 40 kinetic cannons, 20 of which were the main guns. Then a bank of 14 plasma cannons, a dozen or so phased pulse cannons and another ten laser batteries. He could also see the tips of some kind of massive gun underneath as well, and all of his ship's sensors were attesting to what he could see with his own eyes.

He looked at those guns. They were gauss cannons. Massive rail guns meant to punch through solid matter, much less another warship. He saw one turn and point right at his trapped ship. Point blank, and he could not get away. He grit his teeth and swore softly.

He sucked in a breath, steadying his nerves. He was very lucky his ship and its crew were still intact and operating at peak efficiency, considering that being fired upon by a super dreadnought always ended in the swift destruction of anything smaller than a cruiser. And destroyers were typically seven classes below a super dreadnought. The fact that the voice had declared the Daglia to be a dreadnought did not sit well with him. Just how big was the average individual of this species for a dreadnought to be rated as a super dreadnought in the Universal Database, anyway?

''I think they want us intact,'' Owen muttered as he pored over the trapped ship's status.

''I think so. Comms, hail them. Tell them we'll stop resisting if they stop shooting and listen.'' Trillian said with a soft snarl.

''Message sent and accepted, Captain,'' Lussan acknowledged, then added, ''Incoming message from the Daglia.''

''Let's hear it.'' Trillian said as he steeled himself for what was likely going to be unpleasant news.

''Ceasefire accepted. Power down and await a boarding party.'' The voice commanded again. ''Any further resistance and we will shoot to kill this time.'' Trillian and Owen exchanged sickly looks.

''Tell them where the quarter deck is and I'll meet them there,'' Trillian said after a moment's thought. Everyone on the bridge cast him a questioning look. Lieutenant Lussan merely shrugged and put out the message along with directions. She had worked with Trillian long enough to understand that he would rather be there in person, rather than hide behind a wall of heavily armoured Legionaries.

''Message received. Their boarding party will meet you on the quarter deck,'' Lussan announced. ''You want me to put our Legionnaires on stand-down?''

''Aye. I don't want to aggro these people anymore than we already have. Remember people,'' He said, making sure he made eye contact with everyone on the bridge, including the pair of medics that had come to take his War Witch down to medical, ''We're the ones in the wrong. This is a highly aggressive race and this is their territory. We're trespassing, no matter our reasons for doing so. And yes, I intend on having some choice words with high command if we make it out of this alive. Make sure all department heads and their teams are on their best behaviour. Standard procedure, folks: Cooperate enough to keep them sweet, but keep them away from the sensitive stuff if you can. Especially the PsyNet systems. Now, power down the drives and cool the PDCs. We've already potentially started an intergalactic incident.'' He added with a growl.

He murmured a few reassuring words to Ushan and then walked from the bridge and made his way to the quarter deck, feeling the eyes of everyone on the bridge boring into the back of his head as he felt the soft vibrations of active sublights fade away. He brought up his wetware's HUD and remotely checked in with the Ranger's systems. The shields were down, the sublights and slipdrive were offline, the point-defence cannons cooled and stowed, and - thankfully - no one had unsheathed their missile batteries.

For the first time in a long time, the Ranger was as harmless as an active duty deep space destroyer could be. As they fully powered down, there was the soft thump of docking clamps locking onto the ship. Then the sounds of heavy bay doors closing. They were sealed in now. Totally locked inside the massive ship.

~~~~~~

The tiger and ferret stood side by side, watching the camera feed of the airlock interior. The large airlock that the quarter deck fielded, though designed with larger, alien species in mind, was still a tight squeeze for the boarding party. Which, it turned out, was a boarding party of one. Owen stared in confusion, trying to peer around the towering, winged wolf that ducked through the outer airlock door, the feathered knuckles of his wings arching high above his head. Trillian, however, was not bothered by the fact that a giant winged wolf who was built like a tank was standing uncomfortably in one of his airlocks.

In his twenty years of Black Naval service, he had seen some odd things. What did irk him however, was the lack of vacsuit and full-body armour that boarding parties typically wore. He saw no weapons either, which struck him as odd for a hyper-aggressive species. Then he remember the PsyNet. All that alone made him uncomfortable, regardless of the fact that there was only the one member of the promised party.

The wolf was at least eight feet tall and almost as broad. Brilliant orange fur, with almost glowing yellow feathers upon the wings made the wolf look glaringly bright, even in a dimly lit airlock. Trillian and Owen both watched in thinly veiled fascination as he adjusted his unusual clothing. He wore a loincloth that hung down low enough to touch the floor as he moved. His legs were covered in a plated, golden colored metal that seemed to not reflect much light- it was as if the metal absorbed it.

From there they looked up, seeing the wolf moving closer. He had the muscle tone of an athlete; long limbs, his tight muscles rolling fluidly under a thick layer of fur. He tapped on the inner airlock door gently and Trillian thumbed the activation stud on the doorframe. The inner airlock door cycled open with a hiss of hydraulic gasses. The two stood to one side as the wolf stepped onto the quarter deck and looked at his surroundings suspiciously, before his cool gaze alighted on the much shorter tiger and ferret. He seemed to be sizing them up.

''I am Ensign Dal'hic Tamar. I will escort the commanding officers to the meeting room. Please do not bring weapons, as they will be confiscated. If you prefer your own food, we can have another ensign come retrieve some for you. Otherwise, refreshments will be provided for your officers during the debriefing,'' He said.

His voice was... soft. Almost gentle. Not like the monotone, hard voice they had heard just moments before on the comms channel. But still, it brooked no argument and the two officers hesitantly removed their sidearms and combat knives, and placed them in a locker that was to the left of the airlock door.

Owen glanced at Trillian. Not all commanding officers on board, surely? The idea of having Major Sonja Shira, C.O of the Ranger's Legionnaire squad, go aboard a hostile ship without weapons would doom them all. Sonja was a weapon in her own right: a sour tempered red dragoness with a lifetime of fighting dirty, she went everywhere with her various personal armoury strapped to her and getting her to part with even one small stiletto blade was just asking to have your arms ripped off. No. No, Firestorm Squad would stay aboard with strict orders to stay in their quarters until told otherwise.

Trillian knew exactly what Owen was thinking and the idea of Sonja stomping angrily about, demanding answers made him feel sick. He'd give her her answer later. Assuming they all survived long enough.

''Who's Officer of the Watch right now, Ex?'' Trillian said softly, asking as his mind began to roll over a few options.

''Ensign Garrat, Sir. I thought some extra bridge time would do him well,'' Owen replied softly, his eyes back on Ensign Tamar who seemed very curious about the Ranger. He was tapping the walls around the airlock hatch, listening in fascination to the ringing of metal or the soft thunk of plastic and rubber cladding. It was almost... childlike.

The tiger contacted the bridge and gave a brief explanation to the ensign, who sounded scared, but was making a heroic effort at keeping a level of calm in his voice. Trillian signed off and turned back to the wolf.

''My bridge crew and chief engineer will be here momentarily.'' The tiger said, though somewhat acidicly as he turned his eyes on the wolf.

''Those are your highest ranking officers?'' The wolf asked. A bar of iron ran through his soft words, forming an odd juxtaposition to his near childlike wonder of the ship. It seemed that this ensign could be firm when he wanted to be. But he was trying to be polite for the moment. Trillian made note, but refused to be spoken to by any lower ranking crewman, even an enemy crewman, in that tone.

''They are,'' Trillian replied curtly as his bridge officers filed onto the quarter deck, looking around in confusion as the expected boarding party revealed itself to be a party of one.

Chief Engineer Erik Thaslon, a friesian horse dressed in oil-smeared coveralls, stomped in a moment later behind the others, his rubber-shod hooves thudding an irritated tattoo against the decksole. He looked less-than-pleased to be pulled away from his tormented sublights and looked ready for a fist fight by the way he was furiously rubbing grease from his hands with a stained rag that he tucked into his belt once he was done. Thankfully, the horse kept his mouth tightly shut and instead followed the others' example of silent, but tense, obeyance.

Trillian did a quick head count. Satisfied that they were all there, he swallowed his pride and gestured for the wolf to lead on, wondering what the hell was going to happen next. This boarding maneuver was not conforming to the standard boarding maneuvers of heavily armed squads wielding weapons that barked orders and immediately set about seizing control of the ship as the crew were arrested and then possibly executed.

Although, he mused, that was what was probably happening. It was just happening differently. After all, the previous ships that had been lost to this sector of space had never had the chance to broadcast anything before they vanished and those who stayed away from the rest of the galaxy, tended to develop their own unique methods.

''Follow me and do not stray.'' Ensign Tamar ordered before ducking back into the airlock. His sheer size became apparent as he stepped out of the airlock and into the docking tube. He was massively larger than even Sonja would be. Over eight foot tall, and while lithe the wolf was made of steely muscle, his digitigrade feet sported black claws on each toe that looked razor sharp. His hands were three fingered, with a small claw at the tip of each finger and the thumb as well. It would have made a comical sight under more safe and civil circumstances.

Trillian motioned for the others to follow and they fell in behind him and Owen as they were led through the airlock and into the docking tube beyond, Tamar taking long, slow strides allowing the shorter members of the Ranger's crew to keep up without having to break into a jog. He turned to look down at them as they approached the Daglia's outer airlock door, making sure they were all still there. He cycled the airlock and then led them into the ship.

They had stepped into a corridor that was devoid of life and noise. It was constructed of a smooth, seamless steel and was lit by lights that glowed softly, giving off enough light to see by, but not so much that it hurt the eyes. The metal had a slight colored tint to it.

Tamar led them on deeper into the ship, leading them down more of the wide corridors. The doors they passed sealed tight before the wolf paused, making a motion to turn down a side corridor. The population from there on was sparse, and any wolf they met instantly pulled a gas mask over their face, speaking only in an untranslatable dialect to one another. The xenophobia was very noticeable, as was the stress of the officers as they passed by the staring wolves. Trillian did notice that Ensign Jess Reana, his navigations officer, was getting a little more horrified scrutiny than the others. Maybe this was the first time they had seen a Saurian? Or maybe they had come into contact with a member of their species in the past and it hadn't gone well. Either way, the young pachycephalosaurs found herself gravitating more toward the back of the group to stand closer to the hulking figure of Thaslon, who still looked irritated about being pulled away from engineering.

As they walked, several times they noticed that the few wolves they passed flexed their hands, as if preparing themselves to strike out at the captives. It was starting to seem they were not so much aggressive, as defensive. Protecting what was theirs from any intrusion. Trillian thought about that, pairing it up with what he had heard in his mission briefing and what was contained within the accompanying files.

No one got out of having bad neighbors without some trauma, especially when it was on an inter-system scale. Something had set these people off. They were not built to be naturally aggressive. Too subtle and beautiful of body, they had evolved to be graceful. So what caused them to become so hostile and violent?

As Tamar led them to a door, he worked the key pad, calling up an elevator. He visibly relaxed some as the door opened and revealed two more wolves. These bore no gas masks, but they were armored and armed, and were bulkier than Tamar. Their side arms would have been small shotguns in the hands of Chief Bracken and Chief Engineer Thaslon.

Their gear was less security, and more tactical combat as if they were about to go to war. They wore light, but sturdy looking armour, perfect for close quarters combat, with an over-plating of the same golden metal that the ensign wore on his legs. Adding to this, both security wolves wore full-face helmets, hiding their expressions. The only discernible features were their exposed tufts of fur; one having a pale blue fur and the other a caramel brown fur. Both stood in an at ease position as they looked at the officers.

''No binders?'' One asked the ensign. He was the larger of the two, his voice slightly masked by the speaker in the front of his helmet. The gear was just as good as a full hazmat mask. It allowed the wearer to speak without exposing them to the air. Tamar was the only wolf that was not wearing some kind of breathing apparatus around them. That meant something Trillian had not yet pegged down.

Tamar shook his head at the security, ''No need. They're being cooperative.'' The security officer looked Trillian up and down once more, then nodded and waited for them to board the elevator. Trillian stepped into the large space first, watching as his crew piled anxiously in behind him, Owen following closely behind with Tamar. With the ten members of the Ranger's crew standing sandwiched between the two large wolves, the spacious lift suddenly felt very cramped even though there was still room for four more Thymion-born personnel.

Trillian looked past his gathered crew, catching Owen's eye. He nodded slightly to the ferret, who returned the gesture. Between himself, Owen, the ever-resilient Thaslon and the bored-looking Lieutenant Vulwen, they could project the air of cool that would be needed to keep the more stressed members of his team in check. They were professionals, each one with varying degrees of military experience prior to their time as members of the Shadow Stalkers Military Assistance, and if they were to die on this ship, then they would die as professionals, with their dignity and honour intact. He cast his gaze ahead and watched the doors slide shut, sealing them in.

The elevator ride was swift, and Trillian and his crew felt the force behind it as it shuttled them through the giant ship. They found themselves gripping the polished handrails that were set at various heights into the walls as a small fraction of the elevator's momentum occasionally bled through the inertial compensators. The winged wolves seemed to not even notice the force being applied to their bodies as they stood, feet firmly planted on the decksole, eyes ahead. When the elevator stopped, Trillian fought the urge to sag under the return of normal g-forces as the door slid open to reveal the grand space beyond. It was full of activity which ground to a halt as they were led from the elevator and onto the Daglia's bridge.

''This is at least twice the size of what our superdreads have,'' Lieutenant Commander Toby Freehan murmured as he stepped up beside his captain. The space was huge for a reason, each chair was on a swivel and could slide from one console to another. They were able to move about freely without actually leaving their seats.

The skink looked about at his surroundings, as did the others, only having a few seconds to note that the Daglia's bridge crew were a mixed bag of lupine, ursine, canine, feline and others that couldn't be recognised. It looked as if cross-breeding had been going on for quite some time without external genetics being added to the mix. Not unusual considering the deep void between the Thymion Empire and the rest of the Milky Way Galaxy.

As for the bridge itself, it was windowless, like the Ranger, but unlike the destroyer, the Daglia commanded a wide array of high-end military-spec holograms. They were everywhere, displaying different things; ship status, navigational plots, star charts and a full, intricate render of the Ranger, so detailed it showed the old destroyer's pits and scratches, weapons hatches and the small copse of comms arrays that bristled from the hull in a nook caused by the observation blister that ran for twenty yards down the ship's spine. The glowing image looked to be carefully annotated, too.

He then wondered just how much ego these people had as a fresh surge of anger flushed through his veins; they had led an alien species from an enemy warship through one of the most sensitive parts of any ship - the bridge - just to get to what he assumed was the ready room. Any other captain would have had them led to their ready room via a different route or taken them straight to the brig to await interrogation.

Then he realised he was once again comparing the habits of an extremely reclusive people that no one knew much about to common habits of those out in the galaxy at large.

Trillian sighed, casting one last look at the holographic Ranger, feeling the Daglia's bridge crews' stares still boring into him. In the brief moments they had been on the bridge, he knew, without a doubt, that they had gotten a damned good look at his ship. They were swiftly ushered onwards before they could take any more notes, towards a door that was flanked by two more guards, who glared down at them. Trillian noted that the door was partly open. He could see movement within as several people fussed over something.

The door opened and the guards stepped aside. Tamar ushered them into the room beyond and the group of people hurried away, vanishing through a hidden door that was tucked somewhere within the depths of the surprisingly plush room. The security detail remained at the door, standing back, well out of the way, but ready to strike at a second's notice. Ensign Tamar turned, nodded, stepped to one side and gestured politely at the red panda who was sitting at the head of a long table, which was loaded with platters of various fruits, vegetables and meats. There were a pair of crystalline decanters, one containing a pale, honey coloured liquid and the other water. The whole room was filled with the enticing scent of spiced meats, fresh fruit and warm bread. Somewhere at the back of his group, Trillian heard a stomach rumble and someone chuckle in response despite themselves.

''Captain, I have brought you the intruders as requested.'' Tamar said formally. His tail swirled and swished. The near four foot of plush tail was revealed to be prehensile, as it curled around his waist now, like a thick belt as he stood to the side. The wolf was eyeing the captain with a certain look. A look of what could be either indignation or admiration.

The Daglia's captain looked up from the tablet she was reading from, curiosity warring with wariness in her bright eyes as she slowly chewed a mouthful of sandwich. She was short - much shorter than most other members of her crew and Trillian's, coming in at a solid five-foot tall. She had some canine features, and shared the same wings as Tamar. However it was easy to tell she was not purely of one species.

The hybrid red panda was as half naked as the others, too, wearing nothing but a loincloth. The lack of vacsuits was still bothering him. The number of diseases that can be passed between two different crews was innumerable. In comparison to the others, though, she appeared to be far more relaxed, which went a long way to lowering the tension levels all round, even if it was only by a few degrees. She motioned for Ensign Tamar to close the door, and he did so promptly, relaxing another notch as the bridge was cut off from the captain's ready room. Swallowing her mouthful of food, she stood up and brushed her paw off on her furred breasts before offering it to shake. Trillian looked at it and then took it out of necessity and forced politeness as his ire quietly rose another notch. He tried to stamp it out, but it stubbornly remained. No matter how fair their treatment had been since being brought aboard the dreadnought, his ship was still sitting in a null-bubble in her cargo hold, unable to go anywhere, leaving his crew stranded as he and his main party of officers were being held captive on the enemy ship. He prayed that Sonja wasn't kicking up a fuss and making things worse. The Thymion captain sat back down and gestured for Trillian and his crew to take a seat.

He nodded to them, reassuring them that they were fine to do so, but also reminding them with a stern look that they were still prisoners and they were to behave themselves. He watched them take a seat each and went through his options again. He was still trying to find a way out of this, even if it meant giving up his own life so that Owen could get the Ranger and her crew home safely.

''Sorry about the rough treatment,'' She said as she sat back down, picking her sandwich back up, ''but we had an attempted kidnapping of the Empress recently. She's currently mobilizing our fleet for war. If not for that, we likely would have just chased you back out of the void like most times. Now then. You said in your message that you're on a scouting mission? We are a fairly new Empire, so only the local systems around the void know we exist.''

She took another bite of her sandwich, chewed thoughtfully then continued, ''Allow me to clear some things up: Yes, we have weapons that can blow up stars and yes, we did use them. No we are not using those weapons to take over systems. They are strictly for defense purposes only. Twenty years ago we might have used them for offensive purposes, but thankfully our Empress has calmed down some. Now... Formalities. I am Captain Nagia Dashi Meko, captain of the Thymion dreadnaught, Daglia. She's a small dreadnaught, but she is one of the fastest. She can reach border to border in under an hour. And she carries enough firepower to glass a small moon. I am a young captain, only four-hundred years old but I have fifty years of experience as captain of smaller ships. I also love to eat. So please... Help yourselves.'' She added with a small smile.

''I'm Lieutenant Commander Trillian Spears, Acting Captain of the mercenary deep space destroyer, Ranger.'' He replied simply as he sat down opposite her.

Nagia raised her eyebrows when he mentioned the word mercenary, but she didn't say anything about it. Instead, she finished her sandwich off and picked up another from a platter of finely cut sandwiches that were overflowing with ingredients. The officers eyed the wide range of food warily, some familiar to them, others alien. They had no idea about the unfamiliar fruits and vegetables on offer, so they picked politely at what they did recognise.

''How did you detect us? We were under full stealth,'' Trillian asked, finally letting his curiosity peek through his stress. Maybe if he could find out what bandwidth and frequencies their sensors ran on, he could tweak his systems so that there would be less of a chance to be detected in the future. Assuming there was a future.

She swallowed her latest mouthful of sandwich and grinned at him. ''You think one mage will stop a crew of four-hundred mages? Their psychic signature was barely there, but detectable. And, minor though they were, we saw the fluctuations in space caused by the gravity waves from your deflector array as it pushed debris away from your ship. But we couldn't get a decent lock on you that way. Deflectors under stealth have a very mild output and are next to invisible, as stealth dictates, but our sensors are good. Real good. So when we detected your approach, we opened a rift and came to see. We got as close as we could, hoping not to accidentally plow into you. Standard scare and spook tactic.''

She grinned again, ''Besides, your mage was also very good. We couldn't get a direct fix on you by psychic ability alone, either. Even with half my crew looking. Your mage must be well versed in their craft... Sorry, but a ship your size is a small fish in a smaller pond, and we just happen to be the big fish.''

''And this is your pond, after all,'' Trillian said.

He rotated the glass of water he had poured himself between fingers and thumb as he stared at a shining red apple whilst he listened and filed away everything he was hearing. He wondered if she knew about his wetware tech and that he was recording the conversation. If she let him survive and go home - not likely, but still - he would have to write a report for both his clients and his commanding officers to log in their own files about this mission.

''We carry flare rounds. Blasting a bunch out, we can clip a hidden ship, or get close enough to make their shields react to the heat of the flare. At that point, we just lock onto that shield impact and hit it with a constant stream of radioactive particles,'' She continued blithely.

He really hadn't expected her to be so frank about it. Everyone else in her position would have sidestepped it for operational security reasons or used it to boast about their superiority over their captives. Nagia was merely answering his question and nothing more. But still, flares... An interesting use for them, yes, and definitely the first time someone had used flares for something other than a mayday or last-resort countermeasures. Then he thought about it again, turning it over in his mind.

A tachyon burst, but, in a sense it was more covert, he thought. A tachyon burst would have lit up the whole place and revealed his ships' profile in full and everything else, giving the Daglia exact coordinates for the Ranger - and every chunk of debris in the wide area - without wasting flares.

In return, the Daglia would have given away her own exact position and mass, too. Using tachyon bursts to rat someone out also ratted you out, so it was on the Last Resort List during combat scenarios. The tachyon burst would have also given the Daglia a head start, as tachyons travelled a hell of a lot faster than flares, allowing the dreadnought to instantly snare the destroyer without waiting on the feedback the flares' spread pattern would give them.

If anything, the flares bouncing off the Ranger's shields gave the destroyer a head-start, which had ultimately led to a futile effort of escape. Trillian briefly wondered if they used tachyon bursts at all for sweeping systems or if they relied solely on their sensors and psychics.

''That's how you kept track of us? You were watching how our shields reacted to the radiation? An interesting way of looking for a stealthed ship,'' Trillian said. ''I'm assuming you would like a full debriefing of why we're trespassing on your territory?'' He asked, forcing a politeness he didn't feel into his tone. Might as well stop picking at the carcass and get straight to the core of it.

He eyeballed the spread of food again as Nagia scrutinized him. It had been almost twelve hours since he last had a full meal. Nagia gestured at it all with a sweep of her three fingered paw. Her eyes never left him, but her ears were moving between his crew mates.

''Help yourself, Captain. I can't eat all this on my own. Figured some of you might be carnivores, some herbivores. So we varied the spread. Besides, our larders are overstocked, so it's down to captain's discretion on how it's spent.'' She shifted in her seat, tapped something into her tablet and returned her attention to Trillian and his crew. ''And yes, I would very much appreciate an explanation. And it better be an extremely good one, too. The records of this are being recorded as an official trial transcript. As captain, it's up to my discretion how to handle this situation.''

Trillian caved and plucked the apple from the pile of fresh fruit and bit into it. It was one of the sweetest apples he had ever tasted and it was wonderfully crunchy without being too dense. He swallowed the chunk of apple and licked his lips, savouring the scent of it on his whiskers as he mulled over how to proceed.

He decided to go for broke. They were already in the shit, so how much more harm could the truth do? Besides, she was not being totally unreasonable. She was offering them free food, they were not cuffed nor were they being locked up. If anything, she seemed to genuinely want to at least talk first.

''As I said, the Ranger is a mercenary vessel. So please bear that in mind. And also bear in mind, that not all mercs are money-hungry, blood-thirsty psychopaths whose sole existence is to chase wars, either,'' He began as he chose his next words carefully, ''We are working under the flag of a merc group called Shadow Stalkers Military Assistance. We're here under our current contract to track down a known terrorist called Xanimus. Our client's intel has it, that he's after getting his hands on a super weapon of yours.

''The one that can silence stars and reduce a planet to dust. He wants to take it, bring it back across your void and into the galaxy at large, possibly even beyond and into the neighbouring galaxies. Allowing him to do so would be beyond devastating. It could trigger major intergalactic conflicts, and we've already been reduced from four galaxies, to three because someone like Xanimus started messing with powers they didn't understand.

''Anyway, he would have come into your territory in a small ship, possibly no bigger than a shuttle. We were given a list of shuttles and micro freighters that have been hijacked in the area where he was last spotted, so we're on the lookout for anything matching the description of these listed ships, particularly ones that have been heavily upgraded with military spec gear. Chances are, he would have been under stealth upon entering this sector. He's also reported to be very good at blending in with his surroundings, no matter what they may be. I have read military and law enforcement files from thirty different nations within twelve different star kingdoms about his activities. He's been caught a grand total of five times, and each time, he's escaped. He's armed, extremely dangerous and much smarter and far stronger than he looks.

''Our orders were to come into this dead system, following a lead one of the local law enforcement groups had discovered, to track his movements within this sector, make notes and leave again, reporting our findings to our clients without disturbing you, so they could plan their next move. That would have been where our contract ended. It was not our intention to be aggressive in any way, but you did take us by surprise by opening fire on us, so we had to defend ourselves to heighten our chances of escape.''

Trillian paused, rotating the apple in his hand, looking at it. Then he looked back up, ''The only hostile intentions we have are purely towards Xanimus. If at all possible, we would like to capture, maybe even execute him - something we have been given permission to do by several of the involved authorities. But that part is just a last minute addendum in our mission parameters.''

Nagia chewed her food slowly, thoughtfully as she looked from face to face speculatively. It wasn't often she got to speak with someone from beyond the void of dead star systems that enshrined the empire. Most often, anyone who was caught poking around where they shouldn't, were simply destroyed on sight, with little-to-no warning.

Nagia was one of the few captains that did not open fire on sight of a target, and instead used overwhelming force to scare them away. However, this time around, extenuating circumstances had presented themselves and the tiger who was sitting before her flanked by a lithe ferret and an odd looking reptilian creature with a soft looking beak and a crown of spines circling the base of a hard, domed head, merely added to the complications of the last few days.

They were, however, the first to put up a fight in a long time, which was somewhat refreshing and had given her gunnery crews a slight workout. She leaned forward, elbows braced on the polished surface of the table and looked Trillian dead in the eye. The tiger returned the stare, not flinching under her studious glare.

She opened her mouth to say something, then paused. Her tail went rigid, bristling and her eyes went wide. An arch of flame shot from her nose on reflex before her body began to move on it's own. She snatched her comms device up from where it had been sitting next to her tablet and activated it.

''ALL HANDS! BATTLE STATIONS! COMMS!! GET ME THE EMPRESS, NOW!'' she screamed, startling the officers present. Her voice was the same one from the message they received before attempting to flee. However the volume this time was loud enough to actually make them all flinch, being stuck in the room with her.

The entire dreadnaught shuddered as it seemed to spring to life, spinning up it's engines and turning harder than the startled inertial dampeners could compensate for. Trillian and his crew instinctively held on to the edge of the table and braced against it as they leaned into the shift. A ship of the Daglia's size should not be able to manoeuvre so hard, so fast, yet it was.

It was instant as the ship went to full military power the second Nagia ordered it to. It typically took the Ranger, a smaller, more agile and faster ship than a dreadnought, ten seconds to redline its drives. The ship levelled out, the inertial compensators catching up with the sudden rush of power, letting everyone catch their breath and look around for the source of Nagia's distress. The officers could see out the windows behind the table that debris was rushing past them now. They were at full sublight, significantly faster than their own ship could move. The stars beyond the void were blurred by the speed and gravity distortion of the ship as it moved.

They all looked to the walls as tactical and sensors displays lit up and pulled up images and data. The ready room was equipped to act as a tactical room in the event the ship was in battle during a meeting. The data scrolled on to the screens as the ship's sensor net fed them newly gathered information, including a freshly updated tactical map of the system they were currently in and the void around it, to everyone on the bridge, as well as the captain and her captive guests in her ready room.

The ships' status appeared on another screen, declaring its shields were up, drives were operating at peak efficiency and the weapons were ready to go. No hesitation, no questions asked. They could tell that Thymion meant business when it went to war. Then the sight that made Vulwen upset the most, as thousands of worlds began to climb up a screen in a scrolling list. It was a target list. Set up in order of tactical importance and collateral damage in lives that would be lost in their assault.

''What's going on?'' Trillian demanded, rising from his chair. His own tail bristled as it swished in automatic reflex of agitation.

''Are we being attacked?'' Owen put in. There was nothing on the screen about incoming ships or fire. Just that the captain seemingly lost her marbles and declared a ship-wide emergency.

The hulking security guards stepped closer, weapons raised. The barrels were over two inches wide, and one could see the solid bore in the barrel. They fired solid slugs, big ones. Nagia waved them down and turned back to Trillian and his executive officer. Both security instantly lowered and holstered their weapons as they stepped back into place by the doors. Tamar had a holopad in his hands suddenly, having pulled it from... somewhere. He was tapping away furiously as his brow furrowed. He only glanced at the group one more time before his holopad linked to the ship and he let it go, letting it float as he moved his hands to one of the consoles with the captain.

''We have to get in contact with the homeworld now, before she leaves. If she gets taken by her bloodlust, your galaxy is going to be involved in a very long war. And the bulk of our fleet is ships the size of mine. I know she's kind of small but just imagine twenty thousand of these, plus their support vehicles, and then...''

Her eyes glazed a little, ''The crown jewel of our fleet. Class 4M. Super Dreadnought. A carrier warship that can deploy three ships my size at any given time and carries tens of thousands of fighters. Frigates, corvettes, you name it, that ship can carry and deploy a small task force anywhere it goes. It's main gun can blow chunks off a planet or punch holes in even the densest shields. I've personally seen it remove two moons from existence with a single shot. And the ship is crewed by 40,000 Thymion wolves and hybrids all hell bent on visiting the wrath of a thousand gods on whatever ass decided to try and kidnap our Empress this morning,'' She said as her hands flew over the console.

''Xanimus has the weapon now?'' Owen pressed, confused. He was not getting the emergency, or what was happening as Nagia seemed to have lost her marbles completely.

Nagia merely continued tapping away at her console's interface. She made a face and uttered a curse. Trillian looked around at his crew. They were all tense, waiting for something to happen. Reana was stood close by Thaslon who studied the read-outs intently with Trat and Vulwen, whilst Lucas, Toby and Lussan exhanged worried looks with Bracken. The black bear glanced up at the screens then watched Nagia, flicking her right ear in agitation.

''The message will take too long to reach her. By the time it gets there, it will already be too late, if she hasn't left the homeworld already,'' Nagia looked up from the screen, puzzling through her options.

''What's your comms output?'' A voice said from the far end of the table. It was Lieutenant Lussan. The slim, pale skinned Jes'wan looked sick with worry. Trillian didn't have to be a mind reader to know that she was desperately trying to find a way out of this situation, too. Nagia looked around, locating the source of the question, then frowned.

''Not good enough.'' She said simply. They could practically smell the fear from her, now hearing it creeping up into her voice. Something had spooked the woman good. And then they noticed Tamar, and the security were all bristling tails. Hackles raised, tense body movements. Something had this entire crew on edge. They could feel it in the way the ship moved, and then the first flash as a plasma bolt streaked out, blasting away any debris that would force the ship to turn. They were hurtling through space as close to the speed of light as they could go without breaking the dampeners inside the ship.

Trillian checked his wetware. Surprisingly, he was still getting some signal from the Ranger. He kept his face neutral as he quickly navigated the HUD and sub-menus, bringing up the destroyer's last comms' ping. Fortunately, it had been one minute ago and was listed as a test, masquerading under the guise of general repair and maintenance. He did a quick take of the read-out and came out of his HUD, re-focussing on the fuming captain before him.

He understood her frustration all too well. However, questions formed over how a ship like this could cross the sector, border-to-border in an hour or less, but have issues with transmitting a high-speed message, especially when you had the recipient on what was the military equivalent of speed-dial. He sighed, watching her struggle. Maybe their comms array had been damaged somehow? Or there was a signal blocker in place? He doubted it was either of those, but there was still the possibility for one of those things to be the problem.

''Captain, I have a suggestion,'' She looked up, glaring hard at him. He swallowed his ire and continued, ''My ship has an emergency broadcast beacon that can be deployed for emergency transmissions. It's a long-range system and is only used in dire circumstances, but I figure this is just such a time. If we launch the beacon, you can get your message to your home fleet in seconds via an FTL frequency. However, you will have to let my ship and its crew go free for this to happen.''

Nagia paused what she was doing and stared at him, aghast. She desperately needed to contact the home world before they fully mobilized, but releasing the intruders was so far out of the question it almost reduced her to hysterical laughter. The repercussions for doing such a thing... She chewed her lip, her fear warring with her need to do her duty.

''Even if we do get the call out, the Empress herself commands the flagship. She will want a word with you. And she is in a really sour mood today. Someone tried to kidnap her while she was in the shower. They found out the hard way why she is the Empress. But I can open the cargo bay door and let your ship fire one of those beacons out. That's the best I can offer you, Captain Spears. I'm sure you understand the chain of command and why the rules are the way they are. Whatever fear you had of my ship and it's weapons, multiply that by trillions upon trillions for how we fear that woman.''

Trillian ground his teeth together in frustration. If he got out of this alive, he would happily tear a chunk out of the admiral that had sent him and his crew on what was looking more and more like a suicide run. He clenched his fists and let out a slow, steadying breath. He could see her point, regardless of how he saw the situation himself. She looked utterly terrified of this Empress. The last time he had met someone who commanded that amount of terror in a position of power, it had not ended well for all involved.

Nagia circled the table and swept out of the ready room and onto the bridge, her guards following. Apparently Trillian and his crew had been temporarily forgotten, his suggestion discarded. He decided to push his luck again and stepped onto the bridge after her, taking up an unobtrusive position beside an astrogation console that was pressed up against the wall beside the door. The ready room sealed shut behind him and he heard Owen's muffled curse through the door. Trillian grinned. It was easier to stay covert in an open space when you were on your own and not surrounded by people in the same uniform as yourself.

The entire bridge crew was screaming back and forth, jabbering about getting the fleet to not launch. The noise was too much for his translator and it burbled merrily in his mind until he silenced it. Whatever was happening, it had them spooked in a big way. Nagia turned, her gaze alighting on him. He switched his translator back on as she approached him, hurrying across the bridge, futility and anger writ plain on her face. She stopped before him, studied him for a few tense moments, took a deep breath and grudgingly agreed to his suggestion of the beacon.

''I need to contact my ship. It can only be done from there.'' He said.

She gestured for the attention of her own communications officer, ''Contact the Ranger and allow Captain Spears to speak with them.''

The officer swallowed a dry lump that had formed in his throat and wordlessly set about his task. He then looked up, eyeballed Trillian and moved off to one side, pointing to a smooth stud on his console's interface, ''Just press that stud and you'll be in contact with your ship.'' He said bluntly.

''Thanks.'' Trillian replied shortly as he took the proffered headset and sat down at the console. He thumbed the stud, listening to the connect tone as the Daglia contacted the Ranger.

''Go for Ranger.'' A familiar voice said.

''Ensign Garrat, this is Captain Spears. Listen carefully and don't ask questions. You will find yourselves presented with an opening in the Daglia's shields very shortly. I want you to load ECB-One into the forward missile battery. When you get that opening in the shields, fire ECB-One on a straight-line course and order it to open up all its channels. It's to transmit and receive on an FTL bandwidth for the Thymion fleet and nothing else, understood?'' Trillian said.

There was a brief pause. Trillian squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that the silence was the result of Ensign Garrat issuing the orders. A few more seconds passed and Garrat came back.

''Beacon launched with all channels open, Sir. Anything else?'' He asked, sounding hopeful.

''Negative, Ensign. Just keep sitting tight and await further instructions. Spears out.'' He cut the line and removed the headset as someone called out the beacon's launch off to his right. He vacated the communications officer's seat and moved off to one side, his gaze sliding to the 3D representation of the Ranger. It was as detailed as if the blueprints were used to make it. They even had the air circulation system in the hologram.

Nagia set about sending her message through the beacon the moment that it had been confirmed that her ship had made a positive connection to it. It was a tense five minutes before the message was confirmed as being received. The Thymion high command had heard and understood the message. The fleet was being rerouted from their path to meet the dreadnaught at its location for a conference. Between the captain and the Empress.

Seconds stretched into long, tense minutes as they waited for what was to happen next. The bridge crew of the Daglia calmed down some, but it was still a tense atmosphere. The tension was so thick, Trillian could swear he could taste it.

''Incoming rift, Captain.'' Someone called. The ship's superstructure shuddered under the pressure of a giant rift opening up not far from where they were. Trillian cast about for the tactics and sensors displays, finally locating them, not understanding the words displayed, but understanding the projected diagrams.

This new rift was far bigger than the one the Daglia had come through. The Ranger had sensed that one as being big enough for a small asteroid or a minor luna mass at best. This rift looked big enough to swallow a moon and what was coming out of it made Trillian infinitely glad that Nagia had listened to his suggestion; or at least, the part that was in her favour.

A full fleet was coming through the rift, the lead escorting ships as big as the Daglia, the ones behind those bigger still and then the rift's mass grew and one of the biggest Q-Ships he had ever seen drifted forward, settling amongst the escorting warships as the rift sealed up behind them. He realised that the huge monster that was nestled amongst the escorting fleet was the Thymion Empire's flagship. His destroyer was a mere starfighter in comparison.

''Incoming message, Captain.'' The comms officer stated flatly. The entire bridge stiffened, preparing for either either the berating of their lives, or to be shot out of the sky themselves along with their prisoners. Trillian could see it on their faces, they were all sick to their stomachs.

Nagia took her place in the captain's seat, squared her shoulders and nodded for the message to be put through. Trillian stepped hurriedly back against the wall beside the astrogation console again. If there was a vid feed involved, he didn't want to be in on it.

''This is Captain Nagia Dashi Meko of the dreadnought Daglia speaking. We have the officers of the scout vessel, Ranger, onboard. We await your word, Empress Angelica.'' Her voice was the plain, curt, military style Trillian was used to between two commanders that didn't like each other.

The reply was in text only and written in a strange language, quite possibly the written form of the language his translator couldn't figure out. But Trillian could guess a few expletives were used given the length of it. After a moment, the text changed and translated out on it's own, ''Bring them here, will prepare for meeting.'' The ready room doors reopened and Trillian's crew piled out onto the bridge.

''What the hell just happened?'' Thaslon muttered softly as he looked about at the strained expressions of the bridge crew. Captain Nagia Meko turned slowly, looking at them and then uttering what sounded like a prayer.

''The first steps toward diffusing a major war, I hope.'' Trillian replied then quickly ran down what had happened in their absence.

Nagia rose from her chair, straightening her loincloth. She turned to Trillian, her expression wooden. She motioned for them to follow her and she moved to an elevator, keying in a number as they piled in. The doors slid shut and they rode down to the flight deck in a tense silence.

Arriving quickly, the doors parted and she took a deep breath to steady herself and walked with them to what looked like a small cruising ship. It looked more like a small luxury yacht, something one would use for pleasure rather than combat or other such matters. Stepping aboard the small ship, she motioned them to sit down and buckle up. Nagia moved forward towards the cockpit as the others settled in as best they could in the personnel compartment and took the controls.

She deftly plotted the course, locking the coordinates into the navigation system and then set it to auto pilot. The ship guided itself smoothly out of the launch bay and slowly slid from the dreadnaught, quickly accelerating towards the newly arrived fleet that dominated everything beyond the viewports.

She twisted around in her chair and made eye contact with every officer there, making sure they were paying attention. When she spoke, her words were iron.

''Listen carefully; loosen your uniforms, smile, act casual and above all else do not, I MEAN DO NOT take her lightly. She doesn't look like it, but Angelica can tear a planet from orbit through sheer magical willpower alone. She has done it enough times, we do not doubt her power. She has a short fuse and a long memory. We would be extinct if not for that massive temper of hers. So... please do not evoke her wrath. She would not hesitate to kill you and then eat you.'' She spoke in a tone that said she actually believed it might happen anyway.

The crew of the Ranger exchanged looks, whilst Trillian just heaved a sigh. ''I'm gonna kill Admiral Gensu for this...'' He muttered softly, turning his attention to the viewport. So much for the ''It's a simple stealth mission. Just in and out, clean and smiling with the information needed to bring Xanimus down.''

As they made their final approach, Trillian felt the sickening tightening of anxiety in his stomach. Something felt very wrong and he did not like the sudden sensation that he was not alone in his head. As the small ship docked in a specially reserved bay, several wolves came running toward it. But they looked like utility workers, hauling cables and wrenches. As the hatch opened, Nagia stepped up to it and was greeted with one of them holding out a tablet-like holopad for her to look over. They spoke briefly about something before she gave it back and then motioned for the officers to follow.

They trailed out of the shuttle and down the ramp, stepping onto the deck of the giant space. The bay was massive, yet from the outside during their approach it had looked small, the entrance narrow. Trillian surmised that it was likely a fighter bay that they had landed in. He looked about the well-kept space and noted that there was no visible security precautions or other ships in sight.

They were completely alone in the massive hangar, which didn't sit right at all with any of them. Nagia moved them on wordlessly, escorting them beyond the bay, into the ship proper. It was just like the Daglia upon first inspection, except constructed on a far bigger scale. Even the corridors were empty, devoid of habitation, just like the Daglia's had been when they first boarded.

However, as they approached a lift, they were met by a single, tall wolfess. Her fur pattern was a mixture of reds that swirled like fire across her body. Her breasts were thankfully covered with a twisted fabric and the loincloth she wore was to her shins. It hid everything important.

On her hip was a long rapier type blade, held only by a metal ring. The blade, handle, and ring were all the same gold colored metal that reflected almost no light. It seemed they were fond of that metal, he noted. He wondered how strong it was, given that they made actual weapons from it and not just armour. The wolfess glared down at them from her towering height for a moment, before her expression softened and looked to Nagia.

''Captain Meko, I'm surprised. You brought all of them. I figured you would have killed a couple to make a point. You're getting soft.'' The woman's voice was like silk, but laced with razors.

Trillian stood his ground when she turned a poisonous look upon him and his bridge crew. He felt them all bristle at his back, but they thankfully kept their thoughts to themselves. They were still prisoners without a cause, after all. Regardless, they were being treated well enough and Trillian didn't want to spoil that for them in case there was a chance that he could get them out of this alive. His mind slipped to Ensign Garrat and the rest of his crew, wondering what the rest of them were being subjected to, if anything at all.

''Hey! That was an accident last time! He pulled a knife! What was I supposed to do? Let him stab my crew? Of course I made examples of a few of them so the rest got the point.'' Nagia shot back, feeling very irritated and huffing as her tail swished back and forth angrily. The large wolfess arched an eyebrow as she seemed to smirk for a half a second. Then she nodded softly, apparently making a decision that only she knew about.

''Captain, you are dismissed. Please release their ship to our custody and return to your patrols. The Main Fleet will handle this now.'' The woman then turned without waiting for an answer or response. The captain shook her head and waved meekly to the officers as she made her way back the way they had come.

''You are the officers of the invading ship I assume? Please, keep questions to the minimum and you will receive an explanation and compensation for your time. That said, try not to anger Her Grace any further. It took us three hours to calm her down after she blew a literal hole in the side of the palace baths.'' The red wolfess said blandly.

She opened a door and led them into what looked like a rather lavish living space. It was more akin to a palace's entertainment room than a room on a warship. She led Trillian and his officers in and without any further words she vanished in a swirl of flame as the doors sealed behind them. They looked around, feeling as if they were trapped. The atmosphere felt off.

The Daglia's atmosphere, whilst hostile, felt comfortable in comparison to what they felt now. They murmured a few words to one another, Trillian talking to Bracken who studied the door intently. They went silent once more as they heard the soft rustle of fabric. Someone else was in the room with them and the sound of heavy footfalls echoed as the person approached. They saw her round the corner and Trillian sighed.

From the way Nagia and her crew had reacted to the home fleet's sudden appearance and their summoning aboard the flagship, he was honestly expecting someone far more intimidating and broader in stature than the plush image of anger that strode towards them. Without a doubt, this was the Empress Angelica. The woman everyone was terrified of. She glared at them angrily, nostrils flared, ears forward, eyes ablaze.

The Empress was unarmed and of ample girth. She was bare chested and wore only a pair of ratty jeans. She also seemed to be wearing no shoes, as her large digitigrade feet padded closer. Her wings flexed and they were indeed much larger, almost as large as Ensign Tamar's. While she was shorter than the average of her species, she seemed to command a presence none of them could touch. She radiated energy and psychic power enough that most of Trillian's officers could tell she was the reason behind the feeling that they were not alone in their heads. And she wasn't even trying yet.

Her thick white fur was barely able to hide the six nipples on her stomach, and she seemed to jiggle a bit as she walked toward them. Her hair glittered in the light, sparkling an emerald green, as her eyes flickered with an electric light of their own.

Coming to them, she moved to sit on a sofa and lounged back. The intensity of her gaze made several of them uncomfortable. It was as if she were looking through them. Looking at them studiously, she waved a paw for them to have seats on the various pillows and cushions scattered around. She paused a moment, taking her time as she looked from one to the other before she finally spoke in tones of cold, hard aloofness.

''You have ten seconds to apologize for entering our space without authorization, or I will kill one of you at random.'' She said and held up a paw, which instantly lit up with electric energy that made the air around it sizzle. Everyone flinched, as the energy seemed to curl up and down her arm, knowing it was real, and she really intended to use it.

Trillian rose from his cushion, opening his mouth to protest, his temper finally slipping before she was just... there. She was in his face, her nose half an inch from his. He could smell the mint on her breath, her stomach was pressed against his gently and she had his arm in a tight grip as she stared deep into his eyes. He schooled his thoughts and returned the stare coolly. Of all the people who would lose their temper first, it had to be him. He was sure it would have been Thaslon or Vulwen.

His wetware's chrono told him that they had been held captive for the last four hours. Had things gone to plan, they would have been heading back out, ready to engage their slip drive and return to their client's Core World with whatever data they had gathered. Regardless of the knowledge that he was dealing with a highly aggressive and xenophobic species, there was only so much he could tolerate being passed from pillar to post all the while being expected to behave himself with no knowledge of what was to become of him or his crew.

He would rather that he was locked in a brig and left to rot, or at least out-right executed. That he could work with. However, he had to present the air of calm to maintain some civility.

Trillian continued to stare her down, aware of his crew's own stares and their readiness to go to his aid as they watched in tense silence. He remained quiet, returning her glare. The bones in his forearm ground together under her grip, but he ignored it, allowing her to follow through with the tirade that he could see brewing in her eyes.

''I was attacked and someone from your end of the universe tried to kidnap me and use me as a weapon.'' She finally said, ''I was in the shower, had not even had my coffee yet. Still haven't had my coffee. I'm hungry, half awake, and very... very... angry. The last thing you want to do is piss off a pregnant woman in that mood. I'm being nice by letting you and yours live this long, but at this moment, this tiny little sliver of the universe is ours. It's all my people have. And we will defend it to the point of murdering everything in the cosmos. You have no idea how much my people have suffered because of beings like you. And how far I'm willing to go to prevent that from ever happening again. That said...''

She re-took her seat, lounging out on it once more, looking the tiger up and down with some distaste. Trillian made a small motion for his crew to stand down and they did so, albeit grudgingly.

Angelica heaved an aggravated sigh, ''I take it that you are here by honest mistake? You were looking for the man that attacked me, I assume and strayed into my empire. And if that is true, you got here too late. He got to me first. He was babbling about wanting the weapon that destroys stars... He got a live demonstration. It is me. My magic. My anger and power can blow a star from the sky. That given, destroying a star leaves me drained and weak for a few days. There is nothing I can do to avoid that. But it is me. What is left of him is in the medical ward. You can take him with you. Provided you give me a damn good explanation about what this mess is about.''

Trillian remained standing, his hands tucked behind his back as he mulled over how to explain his mission to her. He decided it would be prudent to repeat what he had told Nagia back on the Daglia, that way, the reports would match. It wasn't ironclad, but it would do. As he spoke, he watched her expression carefully, watching as it turned from an aloof anger to a more curious and thoughtful expression.

When he finished, she did not speak, instead shifting to lay on her back. She stared up at the ceiling in deep thought, her brow furrowed as she gave a soft grunting ''Hmm.'' Her eyes returned to Trillian as she stood up slowly.

Looking him in the eye she took a deep breath and spoke, apparently coming to some unknown conclusion, ''So, you knew that we are hostile and quite reclusive, yet you came anyway without knowing exactly what you were getting into. You willingly risked yourselves to try and capture the one miscreant, even if it is for petty cash.''

A small, amused smile tugged at the corners of her lips, ''We do not exactly broadcast our presence except to the nearby systems outside the void. And that's mostly just to let them know that there is still activity within. A reminder that everything in the void is our domain and falls under our protection. Now you are here though...'' She mused, ''I guess I could give you a look at some of our tech. And maybe our drive core to prove we don't use black holes or other forms of singularity as a means of propulsion. We found a far better means of travel. Besides, it's easier to blend magic and tech than you think on our world. And you have done no harm since being here, except for raising the blood pressure of everyone who knows you are here. It's not often someone decides to fight back as they try and escape one of my ships. Quite entertaining, really.'' she said.

Once more, Trillian felt knocked off kilter. One second he was being berated and threatened with death, which was what he had fully expected to happen, and then he was being offered the chance to look at some of their tech all in the same beat. He blinked, rubbing at his eyes, running through what he had just been told, in full. He could feel a headache starting up, drumming steadily at his temples. And then he fully caught up with what had been said to him.

''Wait, wait, wait,'' He finally said, ''You're the super weapon that Xanimus was after?''

''Mhm.'' Her smile was coy, her eyes dancing in a gleeful light as she teased him with that tidbit of information.

''... Huh.''

''Follow me.'' She said setting off across the vast space in the direction she had come from, leading them through a door to her private quarters. She paused before a plush cot in a curtained-off nook that was situated beside a giant, plush bed and picked up the infant that had been snoozing soundly within. The child was starting to fuss, wriggling in her embrace and she crooned to it soothingly, shifting it in the crook of her arm so she could nurse it.

Trillian followed a step behind her to her right, his crew trailing silently after him, all sour-faced and looking ready for a good meal, enough alcohol to drown a small town in and a warm bed. Angel led them out into the long hallway beyond. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined its length, broken up by finely crafted load-bearing pillars that formed high arches overhead that glowed softly from within at their pinnacle. She stopped at a window halfway down and pointed to a speck of light that glowed brightly against the black of space that was visible between the hulking forms of two escorting Thymion dreadnoughts. It was the brightest remaining star in the Empire.

''That is home to us. Our species is many billions of years old. But until recently, we were only as advanced as the Roman Empire of Earth. We had no need of advanced technology when we could use magic and psychic powers for many things. That said, most of the advanced worlds that surrounded us at the time saw us as a threat. We did not meddle in their affairs. We just knew they existed. They were there. We didn't care at all. That said, we did bring with us a presence they could not deny. We could do things in seconds that their technology still took days to do. They feared us. So they tried to kill us off.''

She turned and continued walking down the hall at a gentle pace, stroking the forehead of her child, ''It was not a war. It was a slow genocide. They began to station satellites in orbit that dumped toxic chemicals in our atmosphere and their Mercy Missions to our planet when we began to get sick introduced custom tailored viruses and bacteria into our environment through food and water shipments. Even when we found out, our people could do nothing because without those shipments, they would die off faster.

''That was... That was when I made it home. And I declared war instantly. I deposed the then Empress, my mother. I crowned myself Empress and swept all the satellites from our airspace. Everyone that came to see what happened was captured and interrogated, with torture if needed. If that didn't work, we ripped the knowledge from them magically. The first three years saw the destruction of six star systems. Reducing their population to just over forty thousand each. Enslaving them and forcing them to make the cures for every disease they gave us.

''The rest of their people were wiped off their respective planets. Their stars were destroyed, their planets were stripped of resources and then blown up as an example. The remaining seven years of the war saw numerous systems fall under our flag, willingly for most. Some were still new to the galaxy and when they learned what had been done, they turned against their local system council. They threw their tech and military under our flag and supported our cause. In exchange they got access to everything we captured. And they got free trade through the void and beyond.''

''So, you took over by sheer force and the void is the end result of those who wronged you and refused to bow to you. Literally enslaving and destroying everything that stood in your way?'' One of the officers said, her tone perfectly neutral.

Trillian recognised who it was. He was truly amazed that Ensign Trat had managed to stay quiet for so long. She was one of those people who was prone to speaking their minds, especially during the least opportune moments. She gave Thaslon and Sonja a solid run for their money when it came to inappropriate comments at inappropriate times.

Angel, though, simply nodded her response in a sombre silence, pausing at another window to look out and watch as several ships were busily picking up planetary debris to be used for raw material later.

''Yes. I did. I very much did indeed... I took the front lines myself. Very few wolves were involved in the actual sieges, even fewer were able to take part. Some still can't walk due to the nasty diseases we were infected with. Mostly they were there to herd survivors into pens for transport. The worlds that were guilty, but smart enough to surrender were allowed to survive, with no military tech of any kind. Only approved research is allowed. They have to submit to any search and seizure the Thymion forces conduct at any time.

''They are allowed to keep their homes, their food, their families, but they have no government, no military, no defenses of any kind. All that is done through us. They are given communication stations and minimal entertainment broadcasts only. As far as I am concerned, they got off easy. Let them devolve for a couple thousand years and we will see how they like being unable to turn on the water tap.''

The disgust was palpable in the air. Angel was still fuming mad over what happened in the past and it showed on her face as her eyes flashed with magic energy a few times. She muttered something under her breath, holding her babe to her chest tighter and cuddling it gently as she took a deep breath. Trillian frowned.

There was a puzzle forming in his mind, showing him a clear picture. Purely out of curiosity, he looked over his shoulder. Chief Bracken returned his steady look, her left ear flicking slightly. She silently went back to looking out of the window. Only a handful of people understood just how empathic the black bear truly was, her power running deeper than most.

The look she had given him and the very slight flick of her left ear; it was all a finely tuned tick that had been worked into their everyday routines. That tick was her way of confirming something positive. And she had just confirmed Trillian's current thought. He turned back to Angel who was still staring longingly at the distant pinprick of white. He sucked in a deep breath, releasing it slowly, steadily as he realised that she most likely wanted to rejoin the rest of the galaxy.

Who knew what kind of crisis, resource-wise, the Thymions were in? Every civilisation eventually outgrows their home world and in turn, their star systems once they got to a certain age and technological advancement. Such things were a turning point in a civilisation's life; too many mouths to feed, not enough space to cultivate the food. That was the general issue, usually followed up by pollution issues. It was inevitable that the natural course of further expansion would send them to the stars beyond what they knew. He cast a glance out of the window again. They didn't have many stars left. He sighed. Now seemed like a fine time to die.

''I don't expect you to understand Your Grace, but you are not the only civilization this has happened to. It's happened for millions of years, possibly longer, and is continuing to do so to more people than you realise, and it will continue to happen until the end of time. It's the nature of the beast, if you will. But you have to understand... If you want to be apart of the world beyond your self-made void, this is not going to look good when we make our report. If we get a chance to make your report. Your entire empire may become a permanent No-Go Zone because of what you have done, regardless of it being in retaliation and self-defense.

''Genocide comes with a hefty price as does actively hindering the progress of other civilisations. That one comes under the anti-slavery laws and slavers tend to find themselves sent to the executioner's block with little-to-no trial. If you survive, there may be no contact, no trade, ever. If any of your ships are spotted outside of your space, they may very well be fired on as hostile invaders, considering your history and how many people have seen those stars go out and listened to outgoing signals fade as nations died. You don't truly want that, do you?

''To be permanently blacklisted from all contact beyond your own realm and forever remembered as a violent race? Because believe it or not, I don't. I believe, in time, with some major adjustments - on both sides - you and your people could contribute a great deal to the galaxy at large. So please, let's put aside our hostility and be civil if something like that is what you want. Show us you mean no harm. Release my crew and ship, and we may be able to continue this conversation under a First Contact basis as opposed to a hostile one.'' Trillian said.

The wolfess smiled softly at him and motioned out the window once more. There his ship was, it's sleek, black form sliding out from beneath a giant dreadnought, maneuvering into position to blink it's running lights at them through the window in a common greeting. The wolfess waved softly, before speaking further. Trillian watched with some relief as the Ranger drifted towards them, vanishing beneath the flagship. A text only message appeared on the HUD of his wetware.

It was from Ensign Garrat, reassuring him that they were all intact and that the ship was still running at peak efficiency, even though the PsyNet had shut itself down in defense against a psychic interrogation. And, most importantly, that Sonja hadn't kicked up too much of a fuss.

''Your small ships present no danger to us. Even cloaked, you lack sufficient power to damage most of our fleet and once you open fire, we would know where you were and fire through that area. We could likely destroy your ships before they did more than a few shots that ruined our paint jobs. That said, I would expect someone to at least broadcast a hello when entering unknown space.''

''The downside of running covert ops, Your Grace,'' Trillian said with a small grin. Then he sobered, ''As for our ships; no. Our largest ship is as big as one of your dreadnoughts. However, there are races I know that field far bigger ships that could mop the floor with you. You see, there are races of varying sizes and powers out there, and they build their ships to accommodate their stature, which is only natural. Unfortunately for the rest of us, who average out between five and seven feet in height, it means that our superdreads are small-fry compared to their superdreads.

''And not all of those people are open to getting up-close-and-personal with the rest of galaxy, much like you guys. Other races who could give you a run for your money are scary for different reasons.''

He turned to her, looking her dead in the eye, ''I say this simply because I don't want you and your people charging out there thinking that you're the strongest people in the Three Galaxies. Last time someone did that, they provoked something even bigger that snuffed out an entire galaxy. And I, along with many others, would greatly appreciate it if you didn't turn three galaxies into two.''

Angel eyed him, her anger flaring again as he spoke. She started measuring his tone, testing the edges of his mind and seeing the pure darkness that lurked within the core of his aura. He was a blunt man and not prone to speaking lies. In fact, the unnamed races he had just warned her of had evoked a deep-rooted terror within him. He was suddenly far more scared of them than he was of her and her people. The fear she sensed within him was borderline primal. And she sensed something else, too, something that was closely tied to that fear.

He caught on to what she was doing and with a strength of will that took her by surprise, he shut her out, swiftly clamping down on his emotions like a big game trap. She stared at his suddenly ice-cold expression, then returned her attention to the small handful of remaining stars beyond, absently soothing her child as it started fussing again. Silently, Angel moved on and the others kept pace behind her.

Her pace was slow as she took her time walking, stroking her babe's cheek as they went. Heading to the interior of the ship, they began to see more habitation, and more hybrids. Service workers had a panel open, though Trillian could not tell how they did it given there were no bolts to loosen or hinges to unlatch. What he could see was conduits for any number of things, all of them clear. And one of them was plasma. They had plasma conduits running through the ship. That would explain their substantial power output.

Angelica had led them into a shipboard garden that reached up three decks above their heads. Trees arched overhead, some bearing plump fruits and a soft breeze was sighing through the boughs, rustling the leaves softly. Flowers of vibrant colours bloomed down the edges of the winding gravel paths and floral bushes of roses, pale hydrangea and other, unrecognisable shrubs gathered here and there as emerald green ferns butted up against the edges of low stone walls built for ornamentation and shrouded the bulging roots of some of the trees.

The ceiling that arched high overhead was showing a late evening sky of soft pinks and oranges, and the sound of small song birds and the gentle babbling of water could be heard not far off. They slowly came to a halt at small fountain that had been roughly hewn from a glittering stone. They looked about themselves in astonishment. The room was so large, they could not see the far wall for the length of it, and the density of the foliage.

''We do love our natural scenery. Every ship is equipped with a hydroponics section. It supplies extra oxygen and nitrogen, food surplus, and mental stimulation. And nothing beats the scent of flowers in full bloom when you have frayed nerves.'' The empress said as she touched a tree, feeling the roughness of the bark under her hand.

The babe in her arm began to fuss again and she looked down, cupping it to her breast once more. As the babe began to suckle softly, she stroked it's head, crooning a few soft, nonsense words to it.

''Do you have children commander?'' She asked, looking up.

He shook his head, ''Never had the chance.''

She nodded, ''Then I don't expect you to understand. I want my children to grow up in a world where they have hope, a future, a chance... just a chance. Is that too much to ask for?'' she asked softly.

Trillian approached her, looking down at the child in her arms, his expression softening a little. He was a hybrid of some kind. He continued to nurse his mother's teat as he looked at Trillian with wide, glowing eyes. After a moment, he turned from her and reached a tiny clawed hand to him. He slowly took the infant's hand and the child babbled a bit. Angel smiled as she watched Trillian look at the babe, his expression suddenly unreadable, but his eyes carrying a suddenly morose quality in their amber depths.

''Oh, I understand Your Majesty. I understand all too well. If you do let us go free, we will have to make an honest report when we return, so I don't know how things will go for you from there on. It might actually be better if you plead your case yourself.'' He said softly, suddenly wondering how his nephew was doing with his first term of schooling.

It had been so long since he had received any messages from his sister and he knew that he had missed all the important first steps of the child's early years. He let go of the tiny hand and stepped back, forcing his thoughts back on track.

She nodded thoughtfully and nuzzled her baby, looking at Trillian from the corner of her eye. ''Alright. I can do that. Give me twenty minutes and we can meet on your ship. I assume you can ferry a single diplomat yes?''

He paused a moment, once again being caught off guard. She had just invited herself aboard his ship as a diplomat, to be brought before the Galactic Council for what was to be judgement and some long-winded, horrendously drawn-out negotiations if they let it go beyond a trial. He turned around, casting a bewildered look at his equally bewildered bridge crew. Thaslon snorted a laugh. He wasn't about to turn down the opportunity to look at a reclusive alien race's drive systems, so of course he was perfectly fine with this all of a sudden. Of all of them, though, Owen looked the most distressed.

''You can tell Major Shira to muster to the quarter deck for a formal greeting, because I sure as hell ain't.'' The ferret growled, ''She's going to have a fit and you know it.''

Trillian's mind raced. He looked to Bracken, who gave a small shrug. She was indifferent. Like the others, she just wanted to go home, have a good meal, a couple of pints and a damn good sleep. It was just typical that their last mission before their much needed shore leave went tits-up in one of the most spectacular ways imaginable. He suppressed yet another aggravated sigh.

''We can. But your accommodations aboard the Ranger won't be lavish in any way. You'll have the basics like the rest of us, but that's it. We are mercenaries and operate a warship after all. Fresh meat for lunch is considered a luxury.'' He waited on her reaction.

To his surprise, she nodded softly. ''That's fine. I grew up in a shack. I'm used to cramped spaces. Just follow the ensign back to your ship.'' She said as she motioned them toward the side.

There, perfectly camouflaged amongst the trees and fern fronds was a wolfess in tactical gear. The wolfess stepped forward, nodded to them and motioned for them to follow. Angel left the garden, disappearing through a lichen-coated door.

Trillian looked to Owen, ''Inform Chief Steward Wern that we need the VIP quarters prepped. Tell him what to expect. Also, you better tell Doc Jashen Her Grace is heavily pregnant and we have no idea how far along she is.''

Owen's expression grew even more strained. ''Aye, Captain, passing along your messages.'' He sighed, as his expression glazed slightly as he accessed his wetware and set to work as they walked.

As they were led away, Ensign Reana voiced her concern, her words spilling out, ''Captain, not to second guess you, but what if this is a ploy? We aren't equipped to deal with this sort of thing. At least, not on this scale, anyway. Something like this isn't even in our contract. Where do we take her? Even on her own, she could do a lot of damage before she could be contained, let alone killed...''

Trillian looked over at the young pachycephalosaurus who trudged along beside Thaslon. ''I am aware of that, Ensign, but right now we have very little choice in what happens,'' he said gently. ''We can send a message out the moment we get beyond the Thymion Void and alert high command and our clients of what's happened and what's to happen. A separate message will be sent directly to the Galactic Council with a full briefing of what's happened during our time here. From then on, I'm hoping they will take over and release us from our contract, because I don't know about you guys, but I'm exhausted and could use some serious me-time.''

There was an agreeable murmur from the others and he turned his attention back to where they were being led. As they made their way down a long corridor, he made note of how the ship was built. Much like the Daglia, he couldn't see any conduits, light fixtures, or cables and he didn't see any seams in the construction from welding and riveting processes. There was no sign of any paint either. The smooth metals all looked naturally coloured and grown to shape.

It was all very different from the Ranger which had a stripped-out utilitarian look and feel to it. Which made the service panel he had seen earlier all the more confusing. They rounded a corner and came to an enclosed mezzanine overlooking one of the many docking bays the flagship fielded. He looked through an observation window, his crew coming up to stand beside him.

The Ranger was sitting on a docking pad, it's 25,000 tonne mass effortlessly suspended by magnetic force, its drives emitting a soft blue glow as they idled. The black nano-matte coating reflected very little light from the overheads, whilst the bright green markings that spotted and striped here-and-there across the destroyer's hull glowed with intensity beneath the overheads.

That green patterning was there to act as a radiator and it was glowing due to the ship's heat sinks being almost at full capacity. Being cornered and reeled in so soon by the Daglia had not given them time to ditch the heat that had accumulated during the destroyer's time under stealth, so he had no doubt that the coolant systems were working over-time.

The Shadow Stalkers' newer ships didn't have that problem so much, being able to last out a week under stealth without taxing their heat sinks unlike ships of the Ranger's age, who could go for a day, even two days before having to come out of stealth to safely dispose of the gathered heat and radiation that being stealthed brought with it.

''How many Rogue-class destroyers d'you think this ship can carry?'' Owen murmured as he looked out onto the pitted, abused destroyer.

''About twenty too many, I reckon.'' Trillian replied.

He looked down at a cluster of people fussing around the open cargo hatch. It looked like the wolves were moving crates onto his ship under the supervision of Purser Chief Quiras and his team with a couple members of Firestorm Squad standing overwatch in full battle armour, gauss rifles slung, four Legionaries lining either side of the loading ramp. A huge red dragoness, her helmet removed, stood beside Quiras at the bottom of the ramp, watching intently as the Thymion personnel handed off their crates to Quiras's team.

''What're you loading onto my ship?'' Trillian asked the ensign suspiciously.

She shrugged and scratched her head as she looked out into the concentrated chaos, ''Those are dry storage crates. Could be ammo, preserved food, weapons, minerals and metal ores... Hell, it could even be cases of toilet paper for all I know.'' She replied.

''I ordered my crew to put together a good faith present for whatever council governs your galaxy's systems. It is indeed a mix of our weapons and ammo, some precious minerals, gemstones, and a bit of our own food.'' Angel's voice cut in from behind.

The gathered officers turned to look at her and were surprised to see her in formal clothing. An actual top, with a flowing skirt and a cloak draped over her shoulders. On her arms she wore ceremonial golden bracelets and from her ears hung golden earrings studded with emeralds and diamonds.

''I trust this looks regal enough? I really don't like the crown. It hurts my neck.'' She said softly. Trillian looked her over and nodded. She moved over to a thick bulkhead door and keyed a code into the keypad that was built into the frame. The door opened smoothly without a sound and she gestured out to the catwalk beyond the threshold, ''Lead on, Captain.''

Trillian looked at her, looked at the door, then back again. He was still suspicious as hell, but he was being given the chance to leave, un-harassed. He escorted her out, down the stairs and towards the destroyer. The wolves, having been growled and harried into compliance by the ever-fearless Chief Quiras, had finished loading their crates the way Quiras wanted them loaded and he was now stomping up the ramp, muttering under his breath.

Before he even made it across the gaping threshold, the ramp started lifting, retracting as it did so, the outer doors sliding out of their recesses to seal the cargo bay with a flurry of hissing hydraulics and the suck-pop noise of vacuum seals. Two Legionnaires, both dragons, stood to either side of a large, white disc that lay flat on the deck, the two heavily armoured and armed warriors flanked by equally heavily equipped Thymion guards. All four of them saluted as Angel stepped onto the disc, followed closely by Trillian and the others.

The two members of Firestorm Squad spread their armoured wings and lept straight up, flapping hard and settling into a perfect hover either side of the quarter deck's outer airlock door, waiting for the disc as it rose smoothly, silently upwards to join them.

The airlock was wide open, its manual override in full effect and Trillian found the rest of Firestorm Squad waiting on them, with Major Sonja Shira waiting at the head of the line of Legionnaires that flanked the inner door. The large dragoness stood to rigid attention, her crimson scales glittering like polished rubies under the hard overhead lights, her golden eyes glowing with an inner fire and carefully contained violence.

''Captain on deck!'' She roared and her squad went rigid, saluting in perfect, precise unison, their heavy, black armour not making the slightest sound as they moved. ''Welcome back aboard, Captain. Your Grace.''

''At ease, Major. Have the preparations been made?'' He asked her, feeling relief wash through him. He was back aboard his ship at last, amongst familiar faces, sounds and smells. He just wished that he could feel the soft, occasional caress of the PsyNet, but it was still down, turned in on itself to defend its integrity and the ship's data from hostile, prying minds.

''Yes Sir. Wern's finished the VIP quarters and Jashen'll be needing a word with Her Grace about certain aspects of her health.''

''I am perfectly healthy, Major Shira.'' Angel protested flatly, her attention snapping to the dragoness. At least, she thought, the crew suited the ship; uncouth and about as subtle as a punch in the face.

''Trust me, the last thing you want to do is go into labour aboard a cramped warship. Been there, done that, people still have the scars to prove it. I will escort you to the medibay so the captain can get things underway.'' Angel bristled as Sonja continued unperturbed, ''It will be a routine five minute question and scan procedure, then I can escort you to the bridge where you can work on not getting us shot down by one of your overzealous ships as we leave.''

The look Trillian was giving Sonja could have melted a Q-Ship's armoured hull, but he didn't intervene. Sonja was right; in fact, Trillian had received a message from Chief Medical Officer Jashen the second he had stepped into the airlock requesting the very thing that Sonja had told Angel. And the sooner they got underway again, the sooner he could relieve the ship's heat sinks so they could make it through the slipstream without being cooked.

He looked to Angel, ''It's standard procedure and Major Shira is right; child birth in a pressurized tin can travelling through deep space at FTL speeds is not fun for anyone involved.'' He looked back to Sonja, ''I believe Lieutenant Chan is still dealing with reconstructive surgery and burn therapy.''

Sonja nodded then gestured to the bulkhead door that led from the quarter deck, ''This way, Your Grace.''

Angel looked to Trillian, bewilderment verging dangerously close on anger. He merely nodded his approval and asked her to follow Sonja, promising that she was in good hands and that it would only take five minutes. He then contacted Jashen, telling him to make it five minutes and no more as he headed for the bridge to relieve Ensign Garrat and Third Watch.

~~~~~~

Angel sat in the medical ward, looking at the orc. For an orc, he was slim. His flesh was of a deep, forest green, his eyes the colour of polished steel and he wore silver caps on the tips of his tusks. He still towered over her, though as he checked his datapad. She was not intimidated by him, more so that she was annoyed. She could have easily given them her medical records, and assured them that she was only six months along, and not due for another four months. However, she wanted to at least give them their five minutes.

The wolfess flexed her wings as she reached up, unclasping the cloak and tossing it onto a chair. The orc arched an eyebrow as she lifted her blouse, and then slid off her skirt. He had made no mention of her needing to remove her clothes, but she did so and so he decided that it would be easier to let her get on with it. It had been a long day, and like the rest of the crew, he just wanted to be heading home sooner rather than later. He glanced up from his datapad, looking her over as she stood before him, shoulders squared, her posture stand-offish. He made a guess at her current weight and wrote it down. He was usually correct with his guesstimates and she was well-rounded, but there was no way all of that was the baby. She was fat. What was more, she seemed to take pride in it.

''Alright doc, let's get this over with. What kind of exam you thinking of here?'' She asked mildly, letting a little bit of her annoyance show. What was apparent was that she was not ashamed to stand there before him naked, save for a pair of black panties. Jashen looked at his notes, before looking back at her.

''It's a simple precautionary checklist that everyone aboard goes through on a regular basis: Height, weight, diseases, etc. Nothing serious, and nothing intrusive. No anomalies withstanding, you can go to the bridge in a... few...moments.'' His voice slowed to a stop as she held up her wrist, and slid one of her bracelets up her arm. It opened up, projecting a holographic touch screen.

''Let me help you then. This is a diagnostic self computer. Everyone on our ships is issued one. We also have a civilian model that most citizens of the empire use. Our species is a Triple-helix based DNA organism, Dextro-amino acid molecule type creature. We breathe Nitrogen more than Oxygen, however we can breathe pure of either one for a short period of time. Roughly ten minutes at most. Our hypothalamus gland is enlarged, generating a body temperature of roughly 103.5°F. As well, our muscle and bone density are far higher, giving us increased strength and durability in many aspects.

''Our species has a cellular regeneration rate over 500 times the average across the known universe, and our brain density is much higher. Our magic is a blend of elemental control and psychic force, tapping into the energy lines of the universe. My personal physical stats are displayed here, as well as the notations of my physical capabilities. Does this answer your questions?'' she said.

Jashen was quite surprised she spoke that all in a single breath. He was quite appreciative that she let him just see the information so he could copy it straight into his datapad rather than wait for his computer's A.I to shake hands with the bracelet so he could download a copy for his records, or listing it off as if he were a common nurse intern. Taking his notes on a datapad, the medical officer then had her lay back and began a basic scan.

''Please hold still. This takes two minutes.'' He said as she settled down on the examination table. He reached over her head and swung a spindly, microphone type device into view and positioned it about a foot above her. It's long, double-jointed arm had a thick, black wire wrapped around it and in turn, the whole thing, right up to the bulbous head was clad in a thick, protective hypoallergenic plastic sheath.

He flicked it on, a small green telltale lighting up on the side of the scanning transducer and turned to the small table beside him and started tapping away at the computer's interface. The scanner then automatically relocated itself at her head and with a soft whirr, it started moving slowly down the length of her body.

''After this you can be on your way.'' He watched the computer monitor, noting that the scan could barely penetrate her bones, so seeing anything inside her ribcage was to be an issue. However, he did note that her fetus was developing nicely. He could not tell a sex, but he could see the developing muscles and wings. He could also see the internal structure of her digestive tract.

She had a dual chamber stomach, and it looked like her organ cavity was lined with a double layer of muscle. That would make it almost impossible to cut her open without a high end surgical laser. He was impressed with her anatomy, but not surprised. He had dealt with more complicated lifeforms in the past. In fact, her build reminded him very much of the last Tenglaari soldier he had operated on; Angel's heavy muscle structure and her dense bones were the result of a slightly heavier gravity and a hard life.

His expression remained professional, perfectly neutral as he waited for the scan to finish, taking more notes on his datapad as he sorted out a new digital file for her medical information to be shifted to so he could store it correctly. The device bleeped at him, repositioned itself above the hard swell of her belly and he switched it off, pushing it back into its stowed position against the wall.

''All done. You're free to get dressed. Once dressed, Major Shira will escort you to the bridge.'' Jashen said as he typed. He glanced up as she moved. Noting how she pushed her body up with her wings, he surmised that the bones were indeed thick, unlike a common avian species and dragons. She was built for power flight in short bursts, using psychic abilities to push herself in the air at speeds greater than her wings could generate.

As Angelica began to dress herself, the wolfess muttered in a new language, one that the translator was completely unfamiliar with. Jashen simply assumed it was something unpleasant. Still, once she was dressed again, she took a breath and looked to him. He motioned to Sonja. The wolfess turned and moved toward the waiting dragoness silently, trying to decipher the large warrior's bland expression.

Sonja didn't like how confident the woman was. She was top-tier arrogance as far as she and most of the crew were concerned; she had basically invited herself aboard, was pregnant and appeared physically unarmed on what could be considered an enemy vessel. True, she had her psychic powers, and yes she was the Thymion Empress, but the fact that she was acting like she owned the ship and its crew and appeared to think that she was the one in charge annoyed her.

As much as Sonja would have liked to do something about it, she had been put in charge of seeing to it that certain members of the crew didn't try something catastrophically stupid, or even succeed in their stupidity if they did. Sonja was there as Angel's temporary personal bodyguard, as well as making sure the empress didn't stray into sections of the ship she was not allowed in whether either of them liked it or not.

Steeling herself to control her anger, she motioned Angel to follow. As they went down the hall, the soft clack of Angel's toe claws on the floor made the dragoness glance down. She did not pause her stride, however she looked back up, a small, grim smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. It had been a suspicion, one which Angel had just proven to be true. The wolfess was not physically unarmed. Sonja had gotten a look at those feet.

Thymion wolves were equipped with extendable talons on each toe, like a cat. Angelica was flexing her toes with each step, sharpening her talons on the metal floor without dragging them too much. Sonja figured her broad paws also had retractable talons.

Sonja had also seen the sheer size of that foot, and the girth of muscle and sinew and bone that would power it. Those toe claws would cleave deck plating if Angelica kicked hard enough. It was then that Jashen sent a message to her and the other officers. A more intense study of Angelica's scan results showed a muscle and bone density four to six times more than the average being.

Their species was used to intense gravity, and she was likely much faster in the relatively lighter gravity of the ship. Sonja nodded to herself, feeling Angel's glare boring into the back of her head as she led her to a cramped lift and gestured for her to enter. Angel stepped in, chin held high as she stepped past the dragoness. Sonja stepped in behind her, keyed for the bridge and the doors slid silently shut. When the lift started moving, Sonja looked down at Angel, a small, devilish grin curling the edges of her lips.

''I can feel your temper, Your Grace. And yes, I see those claws of yours. Very nice. Do you like mine?'' She asked, flexing a digitigrade leg forward to show armour clad talons. She wiggled her toes, grasping at the air with them, showing off her armoured talons. Then she stood straight again, her grin turning into a genuine smile that both irked Angel deeply and aggravated her greatly in equal parts.

Sonja purred in a delicious, dulcet tone that sent a warm shiver down Angel's spine as fine wisps of dark smoke curled from Sonja's nostrils, ''I enjoy a challenge as does everyone else on this ship. I have been attached to you for both your and the crew's safety. They do not like you and I'd hate to lose another family because of someone's stupidity. Remember that.''

Angel's wings quivered as she clamped down on a surge of anger. She swallowed the sour lump of hate that had formed in her throat as the lift slowed to a stop, the doors sliding open. Sonja gestured for Angel to enter the bridge and the dragoness followed, taking up an unobtrusive position between the lift door and the door to the ready room. Trillian greeted them both, with a courteous but tense nod to Angel and a gesture to a seat, and a reproving look for Sonja who's expression had fallen into a bland, uninterested state once more. Angel had quickly decided that she was on a ship full of psychopaths.

~~~~~~

There was silence on the Ranger's bridge as the ship accelerated into the slipstream. Angel watched from her point on the bridge, sitting uncomfortably in the VIP's chair to the left of the captain's chair. She knew she made some of the crew nervous, and her presence alone was making their War Witch relapse into the sickness that had took him after the Daglia's crew had beaten his mental defenses into shards. The strange, feathered creature had had to be heavily sedated not long after she had arrived in the medibay under the watchful, uncompromising eye of Sonja.

Even the ship, something that Captain Meko and her crew had reported to be psychically active itself, seemed to be ill. She could only feel its edges whenever she reached out to investigate it and it felt sickly to her touch, recoiling with poisonous violence that made her shudder. The last time, it had given her a glimpse of its true size and the power attached to it as it gave her its final warning. The sheer depth of the thing was breathtaking in a horrifying way and Angel had the sneaking suspicion that it was far bigger than the destroyer, maybe even dwarfing her flagship...

She had backed off then, leaving the PsyNet alone and kept quiet as she watched the bridge crew coax the ageing destroyer through the slipstream. She watched in fascination, hypnotised by the sensor feed that illuminated the bridge's wrap-around view screens with streaks and swirls of blues, violets, golds and emeralds, all flowing together like water and then parting like smoke and fine crystals. She had never seen anything like it; the rift technology her fleet used was nothing like this. It was black, dull, devoid of life as befitted a rift and was almost instantaneous travel-wise. But here was a ship of riveted, welded metals and ceramic alloy composites travelling through one of the most beautiful realms in the universe.

''It will be an hour before we arrive back in friendly space. We've sent out a message ahead of ourselves so that the respective representatives of each major world can meet at a neutral location to speak to you. And frankly... I will be glad to have you off my ship. No offense Your Majesty, but the entire crew is on edge around you and I've rarely seen our War Witch so ill.'' Trillian said softly as he leaned slightly to his left so that only she could hear.

Angel nodded softly, understanding completely. What Sonja had said to her in the lift replayed unbidden in the back of her mind. She could feel the distrust, the tension, the sickness and the anger of the crew, merging into a dark, oily eddy of will that butted up against her psyche. ''I would be as well, after all that has happened and meeting a being this far beyond my own understanding. If it would suit them better, I would submit to being confined to the brig.''

Trillian shook his head, ''No. No it wouldn't do to have a visiting dignitary locked in the brig, even after what's happened. Especially after you agreed to call it quits.'' He said. Yet she could still sense his bitterness and the conflicting feeling of his duty leading him to trespassing nipping at the heels of that bitterness, ''Being in the brig wouldn't help your case one bit. Just... please keep yourself in check, and yes, you need to let Major Shira do her job. Most of these beings have never met a being of your power and those who have can be a bit leery due to their own personal experiences and grudges. Even if you can only do half of what you claim, that still puts your power in the realm of a dreadnought-class starship. Of course, it helps that Xanimus is healing nicely in one of our healing pods, which means he'll be well enough to be able to stand trial. And then be summarily executed for his crimes.'' He stood up and stretched, nodding to Owen, ''You have the bridge, Ex.''

''Aye, Captain, I have the bridge.'' He replied and went back to his work as Trillian led Angel to his ready room. To her great relief, Major Shira remained on the bridge.

He gestured for her to sit down at the large oval table and he took the seat at the head. A small, spindly steward bot trundled soundlessly from a hatch in the corner of the room and deposited two shatterproof glasses of water and a stainless steel decanter on the table between them.

''Right, on to business. We have one hour left in the slipstream, then after that, twenty-four hours, Standard, at full sublight. That'll put us on the very edge of the Oshanus Star Kingdom, who're our clients. Then we have another full day until we reach their first major outpost. That's where our client's representative will be meeting us and where Xanimus will be dealt with. And you will have to interact with them.''

A horrified look crossed her face and she opened her mouth to speak. Trillian deftly cut her off with a raised hand, ''I'm going to give you a crash-course in how to interact with these people, what to expect from them and their behavioural nuances. You'll be provided with a translator; a simple, unobtrusive earpiece with a skull-mic attached to it. And try not to stare. For want of a better description, they are jelly fish with bodies the size of me and eight-metre, barbed tentacles. The slime they produce is slightly corrosive, so try not to touch them. You don't want to find out the hard way whether or not you're allergic to them. And for the love of everything, don't ask me how they fly, they just do. Accept it as that, and all will be well.'' He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, ''Oh, and yes, Major Shira will be there with her squad. She will be handling Xanimus if need be, but mostly she's there to present a show of force. Our clients seem to like it when our dragons flex their muscles and egos for some absurd reason.''

He tapped at the keyboard that was embedded within the smooth surface of the table before him and a hologram flickered to life in the middle of the table, floating six inches above the polished surface. It was a map of the Oshanus Star Kingdom.

It was twenty star systems across, four deep and contained three major space station nexuses; one military, one business and the other civilian. A small blue circle glowed in the bottom half of the map, denoting the Ranger's point of exit from the slipstream. Trillian then slid a datapad across to her. She looked down at it, staring at its blank surface. She suddenly, for the first time in a very, very long time, felt out of her depth. She sipped her water and picked the datapad up, staring at it.

It was quite different from the tablets they used; the datapad was half a centimetre thick and a shatter-proof glass screen dominated most of its surface. It was a little bit heavier than the lightweight crystal composite tablets she was used to but it was not cumbersome to hold. A strip of buttons with different symbols on them was beneath the screen. So far, she had only seen Doctor Jashen using one, so she mimicked his thumb movements until something happened. The screen lit up and data started scrolling down, presenting menus to her in her own language. She wondered where he had gotten the translation from then sighed, deciding she didn't care about that right now as she was quickly heading into a realm she knew very little about.

''That datapad contains a brief, detailed history of Galaxy Three's Galactic Council. It will let you connect to the ship's datacore, but only the general data; weather, map of our current location, species and races; friendly, neutral and black-listed planets and systems, history of said systems etcetera. It'll give you a major step-up when it comes to meeting with the Council.'' He said. ''You'll also find your own empire listed in there in the sub-menu labelled No-Go Zones. That contains all the up-to-date info we gathered before entering your sector.''

He leaned back in his chair and nursed his water, watching as the holographic map started rotating slowly. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as she started poring over the data contained within the datapad, her interest intensifying until she became totally absorbed in what she was reading. He was still suspicious, skeptical, even. He thought about what she said she could do, and how that she was the weapon that had snuffed out all those stars. How could one woman do what she claimed? He knew special instinct and parental desire to protect their young could be powerful, but to drive a single being to destroy worlds?

He just could not picture it.