{"sf1_id":1845759,"sf2_id":"YnLr6peL","title":"The Wardrobe","author":"Robert Baird","words":12130,"posted_at":"2022-04-23T19:37:00.000Z","tags":["Action","Akita","Coyote","Feline","Knot","M/F","Plot Development","Sci-Fi","Space","Star Patrol","Vaginal","Vixen","Wolf"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1845759-the-wardrobe","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/YnLr6peL","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/0a/e1/0ae17b01-b59e-47a5-9344-bea0f4231156","description":"#4 of Tales of the Dark Horse, Season 6\n\nAn exit from the mirror universe, a big reveal, and Some Fun Happens.","content":"_An exit from the mirror universe, a big reveal, and Some Fun Happens._\n\n_The last episode to take place in the mirror universe that has occupied this season. It's partly plot development, I'm afraid, but there is some surprisingly important smut hidden here too. And some fairly large developments, which I hope you enjoy! [Patreon subscribers](https://www.patreon.com/writingdog), this should also be live for you with notes and maps and stuff._\n\n_Released under the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA license. Share, modify, and redistribute--as long as it's attributed and noncommercial, anything goes._\n\n---\n\n_Tales of the Dark Horse_, by **Rob Baird**  \nS6E4, \"The Wardrobe\"  \nStardate 67448\n\n\"Admiral Timea doesn't seem very happy,\" Hatfield began. \"Even with evidence of co-conspirators aboard those so-called 'freighters,' they're going to file some damned protest or another. She doesn't appreciate being made to look like a fool. To look _weak_. Neither do I.\"\n\n\"Of course not, ma'am. Nobody should have such a misleading impression of you.\"\n\n\"Nice save.\" Captain Hatfield snorted, the derision in her voice obvious. \"So, then. What are you going to do?\"\n\n\"About?\" the coyote asked. \"About finding the _Dark Horse_, you mean?\"\n\nHatfield leaned back in her chair, fingers templed, staring up at the ceiling. \"Maybe it's time to try the carrot again. Maybe we can _prove_ that we can help this one get back to where she belongs.\" She jerked her thumb towards Maddy at 'this one.' \"Maybe she'd be less obstinate. What do you think?\"\n\n\"How would you prove that, ma'am?\"\n\n\"The research center. We take her to Ankiyana, and we let her talk to the researchers. They'll find an answer. Something that will let her return to her own universe. And we can find _some_ sort of... suitable trade.\"\n\nThe coyote's ears twitched. May thought he was choosing his words carefully. \"Have you, ah... spoken to the team at Ankiyana about this?\"\n\n\"What do you think? Idiot,\" the doe said, scowling. \"Alright. _You're_ going to do it. Take the shuttle, and don't come back until you two have a plan. You're going to figure out how to get that ship back where it belongs.\"\n\n\"I'm not really--\"\n\nHe jolted, and by Hatfield's smirk May figured she must've cut the coyote off by triggering his compliance bracelet. \"Find a way. Let's be honest, Jonathan. You don't have the friends to keep _fucking up_. Get it done.\"\n\nTwitching, he forced himself to steady his voice. \"Yes, ma'am.\"\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\nSo it was that, with her Star Patrol uniform as baggage, she found herself bundled onto 'the shuttle' having barely had the chance to gather her thoughts. Immediately, she discovered new questions: \"What is this ship? The inside looks like your technology, but the lines are... unique.\"\n\n\"It's equipped with a blinkdrive. We don't know how to build them. Nobody does. The hulls were centuries-old when we found them. But we've at least reverse-engineered how to use the drive. Instantaneous travel between known points.\"\n\n\"You don't know where they came from?\" She was curious to see if he knew of the Hano, or their Wanesh descendants. Or, indeed, that he suspected _she_ knew anything. The coyote shook his head. \"It seems like it could be very useful technology.\"\n\n\"It is. For couriers and secret missions like this.\"\n\nThe Akita considered how to balance what he'd told her: that they _used_ the ships, but had no idea how to _make_ them. \"It must be a scarce resource. I imagine you lose them sometimes. Your government is already stretched thin trying to communicate with and police its colonies...\"\n\n\"Yes,\" the coyote acknowledged. \"Not every ship has one of these shuttles.\"\n\nShe thought of how her own crew had used the _Tempest_, with its own unique hyperdrive--not just for reconnaissance, but as a secure courier, carrying messages that couldn't be trusted to the subspace network. A paranoid military state seemed like a good fit for such things.\n\nCommander Ford at least knew how to program it; ten minutes after they departed the _Agamemnon_ the world around them flickered, and then reappeared in a new and rather more dramatic configuration.\n\n\"What's _that_?\"\n\nIn front of them was an asteroid, although its surface was studded with lights and activity buzzed about its periphery. \"Welcome to the Ankiyana Special Projects Center. We're being scanned now...\" He pointed to a flashing warning on the instrument panel. \"If they don't like us, they shoot.\"\n\n\"And if they do?\"\n\n\"Shoot? We're dead. You won't have time to notice.\"\n\n\"If they like us.\"\n\n\"Then we'll be allowed through the station's energy shield. This facility is highly classified. It's radio silent. The only way in or out is through the shield. And... there. My security codes were approved.\"\n\n\"No being shot at?\"\n\n\"No. Now we just have to wait.\"\n\n\"How long?\"\n\n\"Two hours. The shield opens on a regular cycle. Next window is in two hours.\"\n\n\"And until then?\"\n\n\"I don't know. Smalltalk.\" There didn't seem to be anything _else_ to do in the shuttlepod; a small closet built into the rear hatch seemed to be the only unused storage space, and it had just barely fit the Star Patrol uniform Hatfield ordered her to bring along. There was a water dispenser, but no shower or toilet; a few protein bars, but no proper galley.\n\n\"Smalltalk,\" she echoed. _Did_ she have enough time to put a new plan into action? The Akita decided there was only one way to find out. \"Here's a question. Why did you turn down my compliance device? You didn't have to.\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"Sometimes the carrot _is_ more useful than the stick. Captain Hatfield just likes using the stick more. I think it might get us into trouble. Maybe you _would've_ helped us, you know? Without the threats _or_ the bracelet.\"\n\n\"It wasn't so that I'd owe you a favor in return?\" The Akita was beginning to develop her hunch about the coyote into something more useful. Many of the _Agamemnon_'s crew seemed brutal and quick to violence--she was sure he'd probably committed his share of such infractions. But Ford seemed to have _some_ moral center, at least.\n\n\"No. I don't know what favor I'd ask from you. You know, to be honest... I don't believe we're really going to get much from Ankiyana. What can they tell us? What can your ship do for us? Just kind of.... humoring my captain, though.\"\n\nWith the bracelet mostly disabled, the thought had occurred to her that she could overpower the coyote, and force him to change course. But that was definitely a gamble, and he'd been oversharing... so, instead, she laughed. \"Oh, I suppose. I figured you could find _some_ favor to ask of me. There's always _something_.\"\n\nHis shadowy ears perked, and he seemed to have cottoned on to her meaning. \"I wasn't going to demand a prisoner get me off just because I stopped torturing her.\"\n\nMay laughed again: relaxing; shrugging lightly. \"Well. I _do_ owe you.\"\n\nJack's eyes narrowed. \"Are you serious?\"\n\n\"How long do we have again?\"\n\n\"You didn't answer me.\" He repeated the question, although it faltered under the look she was giving him. \"Are you serious? Uh. Seventy-six minutes until the next landing window.\"\n\nMaddy slipped the harness from her shoulders, and settled fluidly from the jumpseat to her knees in front of the coyote. She peered up at him, watching the way his eyes took her in--seeing him caught between wondering if something was afoot and wondering what would happen if he played along. \"Your captain must assume, anyway...\"\n\n\"I don't know _what_ she assumes.\"\n\nShe let her finger wander from his knee along the coyote's thigh, as if she, too, were still considering what to do. \"She seems like that type. It's up to you, but... we do have the time...\"\n\nAnd he was still a coyote. Ford adjusted his stance spreading his legs a little wider to bring the Akita closer. He didn't stop her when she went for the clasp that secured his belt, or when she pulled his pants open. Perhaps two centimeters of bare flesh were already poking from his sheath, and he _definitely_ didn't stop her when she brushed over him with the backs of her fingers.\n\nHer experience wasn't terribly current--one of the drawbacks of being in command of a long-term deep-space voyage. Fortunately, teasing the coyote didn't present much of a difficulty. Just the act of stroking him, leaning closer until her breath washed over his crotch, had him swelling in front of her.\n\nShe had yet to decide how far she would allow the situation to proceed. She'd have to give him _something_, after all. It could remain entirely transactional, if she wanted. On the other hand, she didn't _have_ to ignore the way the male's scent twinged and prickled nerves she rarely got the chance to feel.\n\nJack gasped when she tasted him for the first time, lapping over his half-erect shaft. His breathing grew shallow as she coaxed him stiff with her tongue, bathing every bit of the coyote's exposed cock, from the tip down to the curve where his knot would eventually form. _Not bad_, she thought. Solidly endowed.\n\n_Whatever. Might as well enjoy yourself_. She took him into her muzzle, slowly, making every dragging lick count. Rocking the first few centimeters of the coyote between her lips, and beginning to suckle until he finally rewarded her with a gentle buck and a throb that pulsed new, salty heat into her mouth.\n\nShe wouldn't have described herself as especially _skilled_--not something they taught at the Academy, certainly, and nothing she'd picked up as a hobby. It was still nice to feel that she was doing something right. Glancing upward, she saw that his eyes were closed, and his muzzle opened in a hoarse moan as she sank down to take as much of his length as she dared.\n\nThe Akita sucked him firmly, steadily, until he was panting heavily and she felt reasonably certain he might be willing to do whatever she wanted just to keep her going. _Or maybe he'll snap out of it, and you'll miss your chance_. Maddy weighed her options, slipped her muzzle free of the throbbing canine shaft, and gave it a final lick. \"This is a, uh... it's a short-range ship, right?\"\n\nHe looked at her, charmingly baffled. \"What?\"\n\n\"So it doesn't have a bunk, is my point.\"\n\nJack shook his head, lifting his paw to point at the shuttle's rear hatch. \"Folds down,\" he muttered. \"The handle...\"\n\n\"Show me?\"\n\nShe rocked back on her heels and stood. The coyote didn't bother refastening his pants, although he was unsteady enough on his feet anyway when he made his way past her and twisted a handle on the hatch. Thin, flexible material unrolled from it like a carpet, snapping into place a half-meter over the deck.\n\nIt was only a few millimeters thick, but rigid and unyielding when she tested it with her paw; the top surface inflated with a hiss a moment later. \"Oh. Well, that's a nice trick!\" And not uncomfortable, either: it wouldn't have passed muster in any luxury hotel but, sitting on the edge of it, the ersatz cot wasn't _that_ much worse than the bunks on her own cruiser.\n\nAnd it supported the both of them admirably. Maddy slipped from the simple outfit she'd been given--she'd have to change into her Star Patrol attire before meeting the scientists _anyway_, the Akita reasoned--and scooted back to make room for the coyote. He followed, tearing off his own uniform eagerly.\n\nShe only caught the briefest glimpse of him, but it was enough. _Her_ Jack was married: he had a ring, anyhow, and she'd heard him mention his wife. She also guessed they had something of an open relationship, because the coyote had definitely made first contact with one of their Uxzu allies--details of _that_ encounter had filtered back into diplomatic channels.\n\nMaddy had shrugged her shoulders at Felicia Beltran's mild protest about the lack of decorum. It hadn't hurt relations with the Uxzu Dominion: if anything it elevated the Star Patrol's stature. Inwardly, she'd grinned at the time. _Now_, though, the coyote's double was positioned over her, and she felt Jack guiding himself into place.\n\nAnd then she felt the slick, firm pressure of his entry: heat, sliding into her, deeper and deeper and--_deeper_, oh _fuck_, she knew why the Dominion figured it was worth a diplomatic cable--she was gripping his shoulders tensely--gasping at just how thoroughly she'd been _taken_--\n\nHe stopped. Hilted. The coyote's eyes were slitted, and in the steady, rolling grind that followed his first thrust to tug and shift the cock buried solidly inside her Maddy sensed that he might not have had quite so many opportunities to sate himself as her own Jack Ford managed.\n\nBut if he was already worked up, at least he kept enough of his composure about him. The shadowy canine pulled back; thrust a second time, and started pumping his hips in a slow, steady rhythm. By the fourth or fifth, when she'd gotten used to the shock of having him fill her, Maddy heard herself gasping with the slowly building pleasure.\n\nHe bucked faster, growing more sure of himself--she was briefly driven back to the consuming thought that there was so _much_ of him, that he was so _achingly_ deep in her--and by the time that, too, broke her gasps had turned to open, wanton moans.\n\nShe meant to maintain some sense of control of the situation. As if she wasn't _just_ letting him fuck her--she was a Star Patrol captain, after all, and practically his prisoner at that! But his tense, ramming thrusts felt unbearably exquisite; she wrapped her arms around his dark-furred back, and spread her legs wider to spur him on.\n\nJack voiced his own satisfaction in coarse huffs and groans as he pumped himself between her parted thighs, driving that long, glorious cock all the way in over and over. She felt him throbbing, twitching in her cunt, the faint slick wetness growing more unmistakeable the same way it took him more effort to force the base of his length inside.\n\nIt struck her that, if she'd intended to take advantage of his desires for her own purposes, the Akita would have plenty of opportunity to do so with the coyote tied to her and unable to go anywhere. He'd be distracted, after all... eyes sightless, ears back with that look of carnal triumph as he spilled his cum in her... thinking only of the bitch he had, pinned and utterly claimed, under him... _using you for his own satisfaction... filling you up_--\n\n_And_. _Also_, it struck her that she had not been properly tied for years. Dave was too invested in maintaining _some_ sense decorum, and Sabel Thorsen didn't seem interested. So what was the harm? She missed it. And she knew Jack wouldn't take much convincing.\n\nHooking one leg around him at the deepest part of his next thrust did most of the trick. She tugged when he pulled back, arching her hips to grind against his swelling knot, and the coyote sucked his breath in, groaning hotly. \"Madison...\"\n\nIt was a warning. She tugged again. The other dog grunted, sinking forward and into her fully. His next attempt at withdrawing was more fitful. He knew too much to try a third time. Even if he might've succeeded, and that was doubtful--even the effort sent twinging shocks right at the strained edge of pleasurable through the Akita.\n\nHe settled for short, hard thrusts, until they both _knew_ he was tied--his cock was barely even moving no matter how heavily he bucked. Maddy found herself squeezing involuntarily on the thick bulge trapped in her. He was stuck good, and with his movements becoming increasingly frantic she decided she could enjoy the finish.\n\nNot that it was much of a decision. She couldn't think of anything _but_ the finish, now, hammering into her subconscious like the end of a siege she didn't even know she was fighting. Surrender came quick and easy: her head rolled back, and her eyes shut as sparks painted themselves against her darkened vision.\n\nShe hadn't been without _recourse_ on her ship, but _fuck_ there was nothing like getting off with another dog. Pleasure gripped her, tightened her muscles--forced the breath from her in gasping yelps. And no matter what he was still _in_ her, that knot shoving a fresh wave of ecstasy into her thoughts with every squirming convulsion.\n\nThen she felt teeth on her shoulder. Unsteady, and quivering, as the coyote bucked hard and halted. Drew back. Did it again, shuddering, and when he slammed forward a third time Jack bit down properly and as the sharp pressure of it counterpointed her climax she knew what was coming next.\n\nHe groaned, pulsing hard in her to herald the spray of warmth that followed. The coyote was all but motionless for the first few spasms. Then he let her shoulder go, growling unevenly next to her ear as he rocked with short, forceful thrusts to pump her cunt with a steady flow of coyote seed.\n\nMaddy was still right up at the edge; she let him take her back over, crying out in bliss along with the coyote. Her paws dropped to his rump, squeezing him as his muscles flexed and he pushed rhythmically until he was done emptying himself, and her own peak faded.\n\nThen he collapsed heavily on her, muttering in guttural oaths. Judging by their tone, she'd done well. The Akita smiled inwardly, gathered the coyote in her arms, and worked her fingers through the fur of his back. \"Mm. Been awhile?\"\n\n\"A little,\" he admitted. \"I really _wasn't_ planning on... taking advantage of... well...\"\n\n\"Who 'took advantage' of whom?\" she snickered.\n\n\"True.\"\n\n\"Before now, anyway.\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"You're a schemer, right?\"\n\n_Now_ the coyote shifted uncomfortably, and his ears swiveled back. \"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Hatfield isn't exactly making friends. Somebody's going to wind up being blamed, right?\" The Akita had enjoyed their encounter--if nothing else, it was good to be tied--but she was also not above using Ford for her own ends. Not above wriggling back, putting her nose at his and watching how the teasing pressure on his knot sapped his concentration. \"I'll bet she won't want it to be her.\"\n\n\"No... of course not.\"\n\n\"So. It seems to me that we could find _another_ mutually agreeable outcome.\"\n\nHis ear gave the faintest little twitch. \"What do you mean?\" he asked again, although he was paying closer attention to her. _Close_, she thought, as if his interest was not merely personal.\n\nThis wasn't terribly surprising. \"You know, it _might_ be that you turned off my compliance device out of the goodness of your heart. It _might_ be that somebody asked you to, though, right? So you could get close to me... win my trust...\" She trailed off, and when he didn't react she squeezed him again, and repeated the question: \"Right?\"\n\n\"I can't speculate on, uh. On hypotheticals that exist in your head, captain.\"\n\n\"Mm-hm.\" She toyed with his ear thoughtfully; it stayed pinned. \"You might've suggested to me that visiting Ankiyana would be a good idea, so that when Captain Hatfield proposed it, I'd go along rather than being stubborn. I'm not sure what you'll get out of me here. I mean... I know what you put _into_ me, but... what do they really do here?\"\n\n\"Research. I don't really know the details.\"\n\n\"Do you think I'll be able to help Dr. Cissonius? I'm not a physicist or an engineer. All I can do is let him convince me that the _Dark Horse_ should help his research. Hatfield must believe he'll be... persuasive. Do you?\"\n\n\"I think you genuinely want...\" he shuddered at her touch, and the all-but-subconscious pressure of her hips, pushing closer. \"Uh. I--you want to go home. If he can help--stop that!\"\n\n\"No.\" She smiled, and tugged the coyote in with the leg she still had wrapped about him. \"Hatfield must _also_ believe that you're trustworthy. I think you _have_ told me the truth--sometimes. You're smart enough to question her methods. You _should_ be smart enough to realize that if this goes south, it'll be on you.\"\n\nSilence. A genuine, pensive look crossed his face--subtle, but not impossible to see. The Akita still couldn't convince him to abscond with her, she felt. But there was _some_ opening, and as a reward she relaxed, easing the pressure on his still-buried knot.\n\n\"Here's all I'm asking, Jack. I'll talk to the team here. But, whether you were telling me what I wanted to hear or not, you _do_ know we're both at risk from Hatfield. All I'm asking is that, when I'm done listening to Dr. Cissonius, you listen to _me_ about what happens.\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\"No, no. _You_ listen to me, Jack. For yourself, not for Theresa. You _are_ enough of a schemer to know it's a good idea. Keep that in mind.\"\n\nAnd she had a pretty good sense that he would do just that.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\nAnkiyana _looked_ like a Star Patrol research facility, full of large screens and computers humming away at some complicated problem or another. The scientists looked like they could've come from any other station, although they were only Terran--no Nizari, no Dereans, and certainly nobody from the worlds the Union must've conquered.\n\nThe guards, though: these were definitely unfamiliar, heavily armed, and brusque. Ford was not permitted to accompany her. She was guided, through the complex, to what appeared to be an empty office, pointed at a seat, and told to wait.\n\n_I wish..._ who did she wish had been there with her? Dave, probably, although he would've had _questions_ about what she'd gotten up to with the coyote. _Beltran. She'd know what to do, I bet_. What would Beltran have been observing?\n\nMaddy's ear twitched. She was wearing her Star Patrol uniform, and neither the guards nor the other scientists had batted an eye at her passing. There were no other military powers for the Union to be allied with; they must've recognized who she was. That was interesting, wasn't it?\n\n_That's not what Beltran would be observing_, she thought. Beltran would take one look around the office and say something like: \"the layout of the display is strongly hierarchical. Combined with their choice of information, it suggests a culture that highly prioritizes martial attributes.\" _God, I miss that spotted weirdo._\n\n_I miss all of them_.\n\nShe didn't notice anything about the office. There was a desk, with a computer display embedded in it. On the far wall there was some kind of locker, or a wardrobe perhaps--the glass was frosted, but she dimly perceived a suit of armor behind it. An Ulvar unit, like Sabel? In case it was needed to protect the scientist?\n\nBesides the computer, the desk was adorned with only a small model ship. The design seemed familiar to her, at least vaguely. She reached over to pick it up. \"No. Don't touch that.\" The voice had come from inside the room; the closet door slid open, and the suit of armor stepped free. \"Have you no _patience_?\"\n\n\"Dr. Cissonius, I presume?\"\n\nShe could only see his eyes, behind the visor of the suit, and a bit of the greying fur around them. It was not armor--some kind of exposure suit, and flexible enough that he could, at least, shake her hand. \"Captain Madison May, of the Star Patrol.\"\n\n\"Yes, that's right. Can you, uh...\" She pantomimed taking the helmet off.\n\n\"The atmosphere here is toxic to those from our universe. I haven't adapted. I don't intend to risk it, either, not when my goal is so close at hand. The suit stays on.\"\n\nMay brushed her own bare muzzle. \"I appreciate the concern for my own health, for the record. So. You're... Julian Cissonius. You were a scientist in, ah, 'our universe'?\"\n\n\"Yes. Before being stranded here, I was a propulsion specialist at RC Leonardo. You want to get back, don't you? So do I. That's where you come in. Your ship--does it have a navigational repulsor array?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nHe nodded. \"I thought so. So did mine. The combination of the ship's reactor and the repulsor unit are what generated your unique aperture. A perfect storm of different factors--but I _could_ recreate them. That's the only missing piece, now. _You're_ the only missing piece now.\"\n\nIt occurred to May that anyone capable of surviving in the Union had probably managed to suppress their altruistic tendencies. \"What would you need?\"\n\n\"Your ship, specifically. Technology built in _our_ universe, with its distinctive characteristics. I can't replicate them here. If you can bring your ship to Ankiyana, we can find a way to get us both home.\"\n\n\"What if I could find a way to get you aboard my ship _without_ bringing it here?\" If Jonathan Ford could be trusted, that seemed like a much safer option. \"We could figure something out, right, and--\"\n\n\"I'd need my team here. Their equipment, their expertise...\"\n\n\"I'm not comfortable putting a Star Patrol warship in the Union's hands, doctor. There has to be _some_ kind of other way.\"\n\n\"And what if there wasn't? I've lived here too long. We _both_ have. Did your captors tell you that?\"\n\n\"No. What do you mean?\"\n\nIt was impossible to read the man's facial expression. She did, though, hear a bitter laugh. \"When the ends of the aperture connecting our universes drift, the path connecting them experiences a distortion of time. I'd have to study it in more detail, but if you've been in this universe for _days_, when you cross back over, you'll find you've been gone for anywhere from seconds to years.\"\n\nHer heart dropped. \"That's a pretty big range.\"\n\n\"Yes. It is. There are, of course, options.\" He tapped at the computer on his desk, bringing up a map of the galaxy, and equations she was nowhere near equipped to recognize. \"These are all the records that remain of the event that brought _me_ here. There's a four-dimensional rotation in the aperture, as you can see. The energy components are high, but not insurmountable. It could be stabilized.\"\n\n\"Meaning?\"\n\n\"Meaning that getting between the two wouldn't involve a temporal gap. It would happen instantaneously. Or I could create an entirely _new_ aperture. But, I'd need time. I could ensure you and your crew were well-treated. Right now, you're basically criminals. Here, you'd be guests. _Invaluable_ guests.\"\n\n\"If you _succeeded_, though... if you figured out a way to travel between the two dimensions regularly... what's to stop someone from doing that at their will, after we've made it back? That seems almost _worse_.\"\n\n\"You think the Union might... invade?\"\n\n\"They might. If they could.\"\n\nShe did not like the way his eyes narrowed. She could almost _see_ Julian's grin. \"What did I say, when I called you 'invaluable'? Suppose they did? We would be the key to those gateways, Madison. We would have incredible power--on either side. If you're worried about what the Union might do, you could help direct it. Help _lead_ it.\"\n\n\"You sound like Captain Hatfield.\"\n\n\"She's ambitious, but short-sighted. Don't think I misunderstand the _potential_ of my work. It's been an investment. Every day I've woken up in this miserable place, working by myself with the atmosphere they're able to recycle so it doesn't destroy me from the inside out... every meeting I've taken in this suit when I have to tour the rest of the station... every nutritional supplement I've had to consume instead of eating real food...\"\n\n\"You've promised them you could get them to the other side,\" she realized aloud. \"But they wouldn't be able to survive in _our_ universe, either.\"\n\n\"It's not that simple. I have reason to believe it's not as harmful, the other way around. So far, they've accepted those reasons. They've continued to fund my work. Given me the broad leeway I enjoy to find... _unconventional_ partners.\"\n\nMaddy stayed quiet; thoughtful. \"I would need guarantees. About my ship and crew, but...\" She decided to push. \"Who would own any profit from the research? You? Me?\"\n\n\"You could have whatever you wanted,\" he promised. \"A fraction of a percent would be more than you could ever spend. Unless you, too, have ambitions--then... fifteen percent?\"\n\n\"Twenty-five.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" he said. \"I'd need to talk to my superiors. But it would be worth it... I think they'll agree. You... I looked up your records. They don't understand the... _poetry_ that I do.\"\n\n\"Meaning...\"\n\n\"They'll do the same thing: draw a mistaken conclusion about how threatening you are. In this universe, you captained a garbage scow. Died unceremoniously in an accident. How fitting would it be if they came to know you as a conquerer, instead? I see that in you. I know you could be a threat.\"\n\n\"Or a valuable partner?\"\n\n\"Yes. Oh, yes. You see things the same way I do, captain. We're more like them than we might want to admit.\"\n\n_He's gone mad_. She didn't know when, or how, but the Akita was certain of her conclusion. He had been on his own so long that he'd forgotten how the Star Patrol worked--forgotten that they were often ineffective, but never so corrupt. So willing to betray their ideals. \"What do I say to convince my crew to go along with this?\"\n\n\"Whatever it takes. They could be heroes here. Or--or tell them that they're going home. They can see Terra again. They'll like that. Won't they?\"\n\nThey were on a mission of exploration. Somehow Dr. Cissonius had forgotten _that_, too--the Rewa-Tahi sector was Union space, after all. Terra held no particular draw. \"They would, yes.\"\n\n\"And you don't even need all of them. The engineers are the only ones you _have_ to convince, and even then... I can find my away around a reactor.\"\n\n\"Don't hurt them. I need that as a promise.\"\n\n\"Yes. Certainly, captain. They won't be harmed, if you don't want it.\"\n\nThe conditional gave her pause, and then an opening. \"And _if_ I were to go along with you--I'll need to do _some_ persuading, you know--there is one last thing. Something your 'superiors' can help with.\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Hatfield.\" She held up her arm, tugging the sleeve of her uniform back so he could see the bracelet. \"Hatfield needs to be dealt with.\"\n\nShe saw his eyes narrow, the pupils stark vertical slits. The edges turned, speaking to the fanged grin hidden by his helmet. \"Let us discuss our options.\"\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n\"Contact! Eighteen hundred kilometers off our stern and closing.\"\n\nDave felt the same immediate jolt of adrenaline that had tinged the Ethiopian wolf's report. \"Action stations! Crew and consoles to State Red; helm, take us about. How did we not notice them?\"\n\nSiraj Ahmed was trying to figure that out, himself. \"There's no hyperdrive signature, sir. I think--uh, we're being hailed.\" He'd already figured out that the new ship was using something suspiciously like Hano technology, but _that_ curiosity was immediately replaced by the one the incoming message engendered.\n\n\"Who is it?\"\n\n\"Still trying to sync up with their comms protocols, sir. But... they're using Star Patrol authentication codes.\"\n\n\"Maddy? Put it through.\"\n\nIt was, indeed, Captain May. \"Dave! You're a sight for sore eyes. Voice for sore ears? Whatever. Sorry for the abrupt appearance--it seems like they've found some old jumpdrives. I can explain more, but I'm requesting permission to come aboard. Me and, uh, Commander Ford. He helped me escape.\"\n\nLeon briefly muted the transmission. \"Sir, if I might raise an objection? How did they find us?\"\n\n\"Good point.\" On the other hand, it _was_ good to hear Maddy's voice. Bradley switched their mic back on. \"Do you mind if I ask how you happened to find us?\"\n\n\"Commander Ford has some contacts with the resistance. We jumped to the base in the... Amati System, is that it? Yes. And they were able to point us in your direction. You should be able to confirm that with them, if you have a good comm link.\"\n\nThere was, at least, a base in that system, according to Leon's charts. \"I guess that's plausible enough, sir. If Commander Ford can be trusted...\"\n\nOf course, Dave had no way of evaluating that. If they couldn't trust Captain May, though, they had much bigger problems to deal with. \"You're cleared to approach, captain. God, it's good to hear from you, too.\" He closed the channel, decided _some_ caution would befit him, and turned to the tactical console. \"Lieutenant Bader, get a detail together and meet us in the shuttlebay.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. Right away.\"\n\nThe team was Leon, Sabel Thorsen, and Jack Ford--the pilot was a good marksman, and stepped in to assist when needed. As a coyote, he was also willing to adapt to strange circumstances, and he didn't bat an eye when Dave explained the guest May was bringing along.\n\nAnd it was, as promised, only the two of them. Maddy wasn't surprised to see the armed team waiting for her; she gave her second in command a brief grin, anyway. \"Wanted to be sure it was really me, eh? I don't blame you, Dave. We need to talk. Is the ship ready for combat?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Ensign...\" She cocked her head at the shepherd's rank insignia. \"Well, alright. _Lieutenant_, then. I'm assuming you have a plan for taking down the _Agamemnon_. At least one? Maybe several?\"\n\n\"Several, ma'am,\" the shepherd confirmed.\n\n\"Knew I could count on you, Leon.\" The beam of pride was unrehearsed but very genuine--for both of them. \"Captain Ford, what about the _Tempest_? Is she ready, too?\"\n\nMunro had been making regular updates to the cloaking device as they learned more and more about the Union's technology. The coyote nodded. \"Yes, ma'am.\"\n\nHis counterpart blinked, and spoke out of turn. \"_Captain_ Ford? You're the same rank?\"\n\n\"Formerly commander of an auxiliary group on a larger ship,\" Jack explained. \"Before I made the good decision to transfer here.\"\n\nThe other coyote looked between Jack and the Akita. \"That explains some things.\"\n\n\"It does? Explains what?\" Jack asked.\n\nCaptain Ford's mirror shook his head. \"Nothing.\"\n\nThe reticence was not, for obvious reasons, especially mollifying to the pilot. \"Explains _what_?\"\n\n\"We can cover more of the chitchat later,\" Maddy promised, aiming to spare any non-coyote members of her crew seamier details that only the two Fords would really have appreciated. \"Right now, we need to start putting a plan together. We're taking the _Agamemnon_ out of commission, and Hatfield with it. Time is of the essence.\"\n\n\"It is?\"\n\nIn her ready room--the Akita was already feeling rather back at home--she explained further. \"The Union has been conducting research into our... parallel dimensions. They've already learned plenty. For one thing, it seems to be easier--less destructive, anyway--to get from here back to our universe than the other way around, but they can't do it routinely. And it doesn't naturally happen often. Their scientists think the key would be getting access to one of our reactors--something about examining how the particles interact. I don't understand all the details.\"\n\nShe spared a glance at Dr. Schatz; the Border Collie misinterpreted the wary expression as an invitation. \"I'm beginning to. There seems to be an infinitesimal difference between them, a small spatial gradient that expresses itself with a temporal dimension. It's a little like what was theorized by--\"\n\nMaddy caught up before her science officer could go any further. \"Temporal, you said? Right. There's still an aperture connecting the two universes, torn open when the Pictor starship's reactor went up. We could create a similar detonation from this side, and reopen it long enough to cross back through. Both ends of the aperture are drifting, though. The movement is minute in terms of space. In terms of _time_, though--\"\n\nPieces clicked into place for Barry, who gasped sharply. \"My God. That's the missing piece. I observed this looking at the attenuation in a transmission we picked up--how it was received by our equipment. I tried resolving it through the Ivers-Yazin method, obviously, but some component was off. Quaternions have never been my specialty--honestly, I prefer--well, anyway, I think if _rotate_ the data with an additional dimension...\"\n\nHe had a hologram up, manipulating the algorithms while the others around the table--Maddy included--watched blankly. They could, at least, tell that _something_ was happening: chunks of data that had been marked as red suddenly turned white and arranged themselves in a neat pattern. \"If you rotate it,\" Dave echoed cautiously. \"Something happens? What's happening?\"\n\n\"The solution. For every 98 minutes we spend here, the aperture experiences a day of relative difference between the two frames,\" Barry finished. \"If we crossed through it _right now_, we'd arrive back in our universe 160 days after we left.\"\n\nCaptain May, back amongst her crew and their penchant for such observation, now _very definitely_ felt at home. \"Something like that, yes.\"\n\n\"Exactly like that, ma'am. Ninety-eight minutes, four seconds. It explains everything.\"\n\n\"You mean we've been stuck here for months?\" Commander Bradley felt his heart sink. \"We must've been written off...\"\n\n\"Not exactly 'stuck.' Time progresses the same way in both frames. Traveling back through the aperture, though, would take 160 days. We'll experience it instantaneously, but--\"\n\nMaddy cut the Border Collie off before they could continue quibbling over semantics. \"The point is, we're going to return after six months of disappearance. And there's a war on. Now, the researcher I talked to at Ankiyana thought that maybe we could stabilize the aperture so that it _wouldn't_ take any time for us to cross back through it. Or to open a new aperture, without any kind of drift--but those would both be gambles, and ones that entail spending more time here than I'd like to in case they don't pan out.\"\n\nNobody argued with her. \"So what do we do?\"\n\n\"You said 'stabilize.' But that apparently isn't _necessary_, right?\" Dave looked between Dr. Schatz and May, who seemed most likely to know the answer. Barry was the first to nod. \"We could just go back through, then, with a similar burst of energy?\"\n\n\"Formally, the way our shields _reacted_ with the energy burst, sir. But I'm still not _entirely_ sure I know how we got here to begin with. That makes reversing it difficult.\"\n\n\"Something with the reactor,\" Maddy reminded him. She'd tried to take surreptitious notes at Ankiyana, although other things had been on her mind during the conversation after Cissonius began discussing _options_. \"High-frequency interference... cascade? Does that make sense?\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" the collie answered--dangerously. Dangerous, too, were the way his eyes flicked as he searched his brain for the pattern it needed. \"Pictor ships are massive. If we set off... yeah! Then...\"\n\nHe started calling up more diagrams on the hologram above the table. \"If you know the answer, tell us.\"\n\n\"I'm not sure you really--\"\n\n\"Tell us,\" May repeated.\n\nBarry, perceptively, looked to Shannon Hazelton. \"Pictor ships link their antigravity to the main reactor. So if they're FTL-capable, at those masses, they must have some kind of... a... low-diffusion tomophasic compensator, right? You would've seen--\"\n\n\"Kedion radiation,\" the chief engineer confirmed. \"Yeah. Exactly. I tried to reinforce the gamma isolator on those lines, but if it overloaded, and we were locked to that frequency, then it would've generated some kind of--\"\n\n\"A feedback loop. Which collapsed when we were inside the subspace bubble created by the reactor after it went critical, interfering with _our_ field generator.\"\n\nToo late, Maddy realized how aptly she might've warned herself about getting what she wished for. \"And this all means?\"\n\n\"We'd need a reactor that generates those kind of fields, Mads. But if we had one, and if we set it off right next to us, and if we had our ship angled just right for the LRU to collapse the subspace bubble... we could get home.\"\n\n\"And you can do that?\"\n\n\"Yeah. Sure.\"\n\nDave cleared his throat. \"I heard a lot of 'ifs.'\"\n\n\"That's my team's specialty, Dave. Leave it to us.\"\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n_Captain \"Shamrock\" Ford's personal log, stardate 67451.2_\n\n_This is_ not _a plan. Not even a coyote would call this a plan, and it apparently came from one. How the fuck do they make them in this place? End l--_\n\n_No. Belay that. I meant 'how the fuck do they make plans,' not 'how the fuck do they make coyotes.' I have a pretty good idea about that one. If you meet yourself, is it okay to be a little disappointed?_\n\n\"So... so let me get this straight,\" Jack said. \"You're going to betray your own captain and let her get captured by the resistance. Even though if the truth ever gets out, you're _definitely_ going to be executed for treason.\"\n\nThe other coyote shrugged. \"The truth won't get out. The Union has an interest in covering up what happened here. I think they'll also have an interest in Hatfield being out of the equation for a while.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Ambition is one thing. Destabilizing the sector is something else. Captain May explained a lot to me about your world. Your 'Terran Confederation' doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me, I'll be honest, but I think you have something right. You're able to hold together a huge coalition without conflict--without too much conflict, anyway. I think we're at the limit of what fear can do.\"\n\n\"What about the strategic advantage of our ship? Our technology?\"\n\n\"_If_ we could integrate it, you mean. It's a loss, but it's not going to be anything revolutionary. We don't have enemies we need help defeating, either. We can manage.\"\n\nCiara's role in the operation would be simple--using the _Tempest_'s cloaking device to get close to the _Agamemnon_, listening for a short-range transmission from Commander Ford so that she could transmit the right navigational commands to confuse their 'blinkdrive'-equipped shuttle.\n\nIn this sense, she was listening to Ford's explanation only as a formality. The coyote struck her as substantially more composed and less reckless than the one she was used to. A pragmatist, even. \"Can I ask a question? What did you learn at this... research station?\"\n\n\"Why? What do you mean?\"\n\n\"How would it _not_ be revolutionary? General Beltran thinks so, after all. Something must've spooked you.\"\n\nHis ears splayed. Now Jack was curious, too--unused to seeing a fellow coyote so hesitant. He'd come to Munro's conclusion, with a more intimate knowledge of what life as a troubledog was like. \"She's right, ain't she? Can't just have been the, uh, the extracurriculars. You can tell us.\"\n\nCommander Ford's ears pinned further when Jack accentuated 'extracurriculars' with a knowing, downwards glance. \"Alright. I'm sure she'll tell you. Your 'Star Patrol' is pretty trusting with information, I guess. The head of the project comes from your universe, not mine. I didn't speak with him. But... May did, and the pieces fell into place.\"\n\n\"'Pieces,'\" Jack echoed.\n\n\"He's not trying to get back home, the way you are. The facility at Ankiyana is planning an invasion. If they were able to _control_ travel between the universes, we could strike at our leisure. We already know the terrain, don't we? We know your weapons are badly outclassed. That's why they're being funded. That's why Hatfield cares about you. The opportunity for plunder is... compelling, you have to admit.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Why not take it?\" the other coyote asked. \"It _is_ compelling.\"\n\n\"The best-case scenario is a flood of new wealth, and our warlords squabbling to divide up the pie. Who would want to make sure the Link stays in check? Or the damned Uxzu--they're always looking for a fight.\"\n\n\"If Captain Hatfield used the opportunity to seize power,\" Ciara thought out loud. \"She might try a coup. Something tells me that's how your government works, anyway.\"\n\n\"Yes. Theresa wants first dibs on your universe--she sees herself at the head any invasion fleet, I'm sure. It's not just the technology she wants. Resources, ships, slaves... others already see her as a threat. If she was a serious challenger...\" the coyote shook his head grimly. \"It would be a bad fight. And when Hatfield usurps the throne, there will be consequences. You've already seen the lengths she's willing to go to.\"\n\n\"And that's not the worst-case scenario.\"\n\n\"No. No, Jack, it isn't,\" he told his mirror. \"The worst-case scenario is that we invade and lose. You might find a way to strike back. Or if you don't, maybe the Pictor in your universe do. Or anyone else. Theresa is a lit fuse, looking for something to detonate. I've gotten this far because I'm a survivor, Commander Munro. Your captain convinced me that I wouldn't survive this one.\"\n\nThey walked him to his shuttle and set the coyote up to launch. Their stealthy scout ship was waiting on the far side of the Kahil-class heavy fighter Munro had used to transfer back to the _Dark Horse_--they could return it to the Link after the battle, and there wasn't a good reason to let any Union officer see the _Tempest_ up close.\n\nAs far as he was concerned, Ciara might just as well be flying the Kahil. And, when she entered the spy ship, the vixen felt similarly inclined. \"Oh, my dear God.\" The _Tempest_'s interior was filled with hastily spliced conduits, and blinking devices Ciara could only assume were fully operational no matter how half-assembled they appeared. \"Captain, are you still out there? Do you know what any of this is?\"\n\nJack cautiously made his way up to the gangplank and joined her, eyes sweeping the mess. A bundle of cables ran to the closed hatch for the ship's utility locker; a small piece had been cut away to let the wires through, with a computer terminal fixed in place just above it. \"Not a damn clue. Display says something about links to the sensor grid. They're all 'OK.'\"\n\nThe vixen sighed, reading the fine print aloud. \"'Sensitive equipment. Contact Engineering before disturbing.' Spaceman Wallace's handiwork,\" she concluded. The display notes made sense, though, despite the otter's typically cavalier attitude to documentation. \"This all must be to adapt the cloaking device to the Union's scanners. I guess we'll call that 'needed.' I wish I knew what this all _did_.\"\n\n\"You want to get him over here?\"\n\nThey didn't have time, though, did they? Ciara shook her head, knowing she'd have to trust the otter. Captain Ford disembarked, and as she went through the pre-flight checklists she could at least reassure herself that the new equipment wasn't doing anything to mess the rest of the ship up.\n\nAt least, not more than usual: the _Tempest_ was a prototype, after all, and Munro was painfully aware that behind _every_ tidy-looking panel would be even more hacked-together electronics. After launch, she put it through its paces for a few circuits around the _Dark Horse_; the thrusters behaved normally, too.\n\n\"_Dark Horse_, this is the _Tempest_. Ready to engage the hyperdrive.\"\n\n\"Hey, _Tempest_. Captain says go for it. Good luck, vix.\" That was Mitch's voice and, despite Alexander many's quirks, Ciara found that she would've been quite happy to have the Abyssinian in the cockpit with her. As it was, she was on the mission by herself.\n\nAt top speed, the _Agamemnon_ was only a half-hour away. She couldn't find 'Ankiyana' on any of the pilfered Union star maps, and it didn't match any names in her own database--how far distant was _that_, she had to wonder. Proper jumpdrives still bested anything the _Tempest_'s brilliant designers could've conceived of.\n\nShe dropped out of hyperspace only a few thousand kilometers from her target. \"_Dark Horse_. I've found the _Agamemnon_. I'm getting into position now.\" There was no reaction from the huge battleship--nothing to suggest she'd been discovered, and she closed the rest of the distance carefully.\n\nFifteen minutes later, the tactical alarm chirped to announce a new contact. It was Commander Ford's shuttle, blinking into existence. She wondered if the coyote knew they'd be able to eavesdrop on his transmissions. \"_Agamemnon_, Shuttle Alpha requesting priority landing clearance.\" \"Jonathan. We seem to only be picking up _one_ life sign...\" \"Yes, ma'am. We need to talk. That's the priority.\" \"_Land_.\"\n\nThe voice sounded frosty. Ford hadn't given anything away, though, at least not over the radio. Maybe he _did_ know she'd be able to hear him. Or maybe he _wasn't_ planning on triple-crossing the Star Patrol. \"_Dark Horse_. The shuttle has landed. I'm still getting good telemetry from Commander Ford, and a solid downlink to the shuttle.\"\n\n\"Stand by,\" Mitch told her. Now the waiting game began.\n\nThe _Tempest_'s scanners tracked Ford's marker, leaving the shuttlebay and making his way to the battleship's bridge. According to the telemetry, he was still alive. _So far, so good_. Her friends were already on the approach, and no more than ten or twenty minutes out.\n\nSplitting the difference, the cruiser joined them with its weapons charged, its engines hot, and a course laid directly for the battleship. They hadn't been as precise as she had, or they wanted time to line up their approach, she supposed.\n\nWhatever the reason, Hatfield reacted immediately. The _Agamemnon_'s shields activated, and her tactical systems came up to full power. Missile guidance scanners swept in a frantic arc, focusing on the incoming cruiser--but _catching_, for a moment, too. Ciara frowned, and watched the next cycle, in case she'd missed something.\n\nNo. _Fuck_. \"_Dark Horse_. My cloaking device is becoming compromised. I'm trying to counteract it. But...\"\n\n\"Firing range in, uh... five minutes, vix. Can you hold position?\"\n\nCould she? _Fuck_, she swore again, internally. TJ Wallace, something of a sloppy genius, had done a good job programming the new equipment. He had not, however, given her much to go on when it came to diagnosing problems. And every time the sensors lit her up, the signal return was getting stronger. \"I don't know. They're going to pick me up in... I'd guess two minutes. Maybe less.\"\n\n\"Understood. Keep us posted,\" Mitch said. No pet names. The Abyssinian would be trying to help from her side, while coordinating the cruiser's own attack. Ciara skimmed the readouts from her countermeasures, trying to find out what the _Agamemnon_ was even _detecting_ from the stealth ship.\n\nWhatever it was stayed subtle enough to elude her. In another few seconds, she would no longer be a ghost the tacticians on the battleship could ignore. \"_Dark Horse_, I'm not having any luck, here.\"\n\n\"Copy that, _Tempest_. Wait one.\" And then: \"You need to back off.\"\n\nBut the voice had suddenly become much clearer. It didn't, for _that_ matter, seem to be coming from over the radio. Ciara looked over her shoulder. \"Mitch?\"\n\nThe Abyssinian--standing, Munro noticed, in front of the now-open utility locker--shook her head. \"No, not quite. Back us off. You're too close to them.\"\n\nShe made a split-second decision to obey, pulsing her thrusters and letting the battleship recede. The alarms quieted. \"I'm staying close for a reason, you know...\"\n\n\"Right. But we're generating reactor interference. You--\" the feline cut herself off, pointing to a flashing warning on the computer console: _signal lost_. \"Short-range passive-powered transmitter, yes?\"\n\n\"Yes...\"\n\n\"Narrow the scan radius and apply a phase compensation to the signal. I--I can show you? If you want?\"\n\nMunro did not know _why_ the feline--Torres, wasn't it?--had stowed away on the _Tempest_. Anyone from the Link _should_ have departed. Allowing her access to the ship's sensitive electronics was not a terribly good idea. Neither was ignoring the alarm. She gestured with her open palm to the copilot's station. \"Go for it.\"\n\nTorres took the seat and started work. \"Because we got the ship's blueprints. We can just use that to adjust the filter... identify the signal phase and amplify that. You know?\" She asked with the sincere tone of someone who expected her audience actually did.\n\nMunro wasn't quite following, but another transmission cut in. \"_Tempest_, what's your status?\"\n\nThe _signal lost_ alert had gone away. \"Ah. _Dark Horse_, I think I'm safe for now. Still have a good signal from Mr. Ford, and there's no sign I've been detected.\"\n\nAnd the _Agamemnon_ had other things to focus on: they were maneuvering to meet the _Dark Horse_, turrets already aligned to open fire. Munro caught radio traffic: Hatfield, her voice as cold as before. \"Captain May. I see you found your ship again.\"\n\n\"I see your lapdog found yours. Are you ready to surrender?\"\n\nHatfield's response was to cut the channel, and then to open fire. Ciara watched with no small degree of concern: Hatfield's ship had what would've counted for a fleet's worth of firepower, in the Star Patrol. All of it was now trained on the _Dark Horse_, although they'd reinforced the deflector shields and the shots that landed failed to pierce them.\n\nBut she didn't return fire, coming ever closer as another salvo made a more dramatic effort to get through. At the last moment, perhaps fearing that the ship was a decoy and they were about to be rammed, Hatfield broke off the collision course. And, finally, the _Dark Horse_ struck.\n\nThe cruiser yawed, skidding sideways as it slipped past the _Agamemnon_. Her particle cannons fired in two quick, narrow pulses, and the result was immediate. Between Eli Parnell and Leon Bader, they'd aimed cleanly and well: the battleship's power signature dropped precipitously as both deflectors and main engines went offline.\n\n\"_Yes_,\" Torres hissed. \"How do you like that, you bitch?\"\n\n_Gleefully_, Ciara thought: the hiss had sounded gleeful. \"Excuse me?\"\n\nThe Abyssinian jerked her head over, looking at Munro as if startled by her own outburst. \"She's earned the language, ma'am.\"\n\n_Ma'am_ was, as epithets went, even more surprising to hear from someone who looked like Mitch Alexander. \"It's not over yet.\"\n\n\"Might as well be. Hey--is that important? Incoming transmission.\"\n\nIt was from Commander Ford, and it was one word only: _go_. Ciara pointed the _Tempest_ at the now-disabled battleship and made her approach to its spinning hulk. Their downlink to the shuttle re-established itself; she sent the payload to reprogram its navigation computer, and waited.\n\n\"The _Agamemnon_ will be able to restart her main reactor in another two or three minutes,\" Torres warned. \"And their first step will be the targeting scanners, so be ready for that. My suggestion would be to put some more distance between you and them. Wouldn't want to catch a stray cannon pulse.\"\n\n\"The odds are not good for a 'stray.'\"\n\n\"Even if they're not sure what this sensor anomaly is, they'll shoot at it. The Union isn't as cautious or as... polite... as you are. How are this thing's shields, if we get hit?\"\n\nMunro found herself considering another question. \"You were hiding in the utility closet. Isn't that where the emergency egress suits are--'if we get hit'?\"\n\n\"There were two, yes. I... moved one to another ship in the bay so I could make room. You, um. You can have the one that's left, if you want. But...\"\n\n\"Or, I could back off. I see.\" Ciara fired their thrusters. Her view was still perfectly adequate to watch the _Agamemnon_'s shuttle launch, and then disappear. \"Can you fly at all? Like a Kahil-class fighter-bomber, maybe?\"\n\n\"No. Sorry.\"\n\n\"Maybe...\" She was thinking aloud. \"If we put you off, anyway, the Link could pick it up, I guess. Would that work?\"\n\n\"I... don't want them to pick me up. Why do you think I'm here?\"\n\n\"I wasn't exactly sure about that, to be honest. I figured you didn't just fall asleep in the closet, though.\"\n\n\"No. And I know that I don't really... I mean. Let me try again: it's not like we've really met, right? You said we were friends in this universe. I'd like to try, at least. Things are different for you in this 'Star Patrol.' Better--I know I'd fit in better there than I do here. Hell, if you try to make me go back I _will_ take that egress suit...\"\n\n\"Did you talk to Commander Bradley about this?\"\n\n\"Didn't have the chance. I will, I promise! TJ said he'd at least be willing to hear me out. You agree, don't you? Your culture seems awfully... enlightened. I want to believe I can trust you. I...\"\n\n\"Yes?\" the vixen asked, head canting.\n\n\"I want to believe that _you_ want to believe that _you_ can trust _me_.\"\n\n\"Can I?\"\n\n\"I don't know. But you want to. Right?\"\n\nShe sighed heavily. \"I--hold on, it's my ship. _Dark Horse_, _Tempest_ here. Go ahead.\"\n\n\"General Beltran just confirmed they've picked up Captain Hatfield's shuttle. There's a derelict Pictor freighter waiting at the site of our first battle. Can you hold position long enough to see if the _Agamemnon_ is joined by any other ships before it finishes repairs, and then meet us there?\"\n\nTorres looked at her hopefully. _Well, what's another few minutes? Captain May will know what to do, anyway_. \"Roger. I'll lay in a course. See you in a bit, _Dark Horse_. _Tempest_ out.\"\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n_Captain's log, stardate 67452_\n\n_We've arrived back where we started--I think. Beltran has held up her end of the bargain; we have the ship we'll need to reopen the aperture. Dr. Schatz has come up with a plan for doing that, although he cautions that we'll only have one attempt. The link between our universes is already fraying, and the detonation will damage it beyond repair._\n\n_I think, and the crew agrees, that this is a good thing. We_ can't_, however, guarantee that it won't happen again. Schatz believes there may be something about this region of space that makes it particularly susceptible; I'm not interested in finding out. I'm not interested in being_ found out_, either, although the Union probably knows we're here: we found one of their probes, converted to serve as an automated listening station._\n\n_That means we're up against the clock._\n\nIt was worse than she'd feared--fifteen minutes after starting work, Mitch Alexander gave her the bad news. \"That probe must've gotten a distress call out. We have indications of multiple vessels converging on our position--maybe an hour out, captain; no more than two.\"\n\nMay considered the possibility of fighting them off; Dave could practically _see_ the wheels turning in her head. \"Maddy, the Link has what they want from us. They're not going to stand and fight.\"\n\nThe Akita sighed; he was right, she supposed. \"Can we get the ship ready?\"\n\n\"We can. The _Tempest_ will land in the next minute or so. I'll have Parnell start plotting our trajectories.\"\n\n\"Do it, then. They need to be as accurate as possible--every deviation from the optimum angle is going to cost us time. Our shields are operational, too? Whatever Shannon needs to do to make everything work?\"\n\n\"I believe so. I can check.\"\n\nAt the CCI station, Mitch cleared her throat. \"Uh, captain? Commander Munro says there's something wrong with the _Tempest_. She's asked to be met in the shuttlebay.\"\n\n\"By an engineer?\"\n\n\"It just says 'someone,' ma'am. But she asked if you were available.\"\n\nMaddy had bigger fish to fry. \"Dave. Take care of it while you're on the way to engineering. If it _does_ need maintenance, tell Munro it'll have to wait until we're back home. Shannon's first priority is making sure we can do this... thing. Got it?\"\n\n\"Got it.\"\n\nAs he left, May started reviewing Barry's proposal. It aligned with what she'd heard the scientist say: the calibration of the deflectors, and the precise modulation of their own main reactor...\n\nThey had only an hour to set everything up for what, optimistically, were long odds of success. In and of itself, that didn't worry her: probabilities were for _other_ people. But she felt the pressure of the coming armada, and of each new wrench in the works that made her job just that _little_ bit more difficult.\n\nThe door slid open, and she heard her first officer's footsteps. Her hope was that he was about to make things better--for example, to tell her that Shannon Hazelton was completely ready to proceed with their work. This was, of course, not what he did: \"We have a complication, Maddy.\"\n\n\"This isn't the time.\" The Akita didn't bother to look up from her console. She was trying to remember everything she'd learned at Ankiyana, everything she'd tried to get Dr. Cissonius to reveal, and double-checking their preparations. \"Handle it. You're good at complications.\"\n\nBy this she meant that he was good at keeping the details from obstructing whatever May was inclined to focus on instead. \"A stowaway, captain. They reconfigured the cloaking device on the _Tempest_ to hide their signs from our internal scanners.\"\n\n_Now_, finally, the captain looked over at Dave, and the Abyssinian standing next to him. The feline spoke before May had a chance to. \"Captain May, I formally request asylum aboard the _Dark Horse_. I'd like to come with you.\"\n\nThe context having been provided, Dave summarized the only part he felt would be relevant to his captain. \"Like I said: a complication.\"\n\n\"As the ranking Star Patrol officer, you're allowed to make a decision yourself. If adjudication is required, I assert my right to an impartial council under Article 26, Section 17 of the revised diplomatic codex.\"\n\nMay stared at her first officer. \"Dr. Beltran coached her?\"\n\n\"Dr. Beltran doesn't know, ma'am,\" Torres said. \"That was Mr. Wallace.\"\n\n\"_TJ_ coached you?\" It sounded a little like: _TJ can read?_ May shook her head. \"We don't have time for this.\"\n\n\"Captain May, respectfully, I'm just--\"\n\n\"_Not now_. Please. Your request is granted. We'll find you a room. _Later_.\"\n\n\"Thank you, captain!\"\n\n\"Captain,\" Dave began. \"We don't even know if she can survive in our universe.\"\n\n\"We'll figure it out,\" she assured him, and faced Torres. \"Join Spaceman Alexander at CCI. We need to make sure the reactor is properly configured and our own modifications are back online _before_ we set off the fireworks. You'll probably know that freighter's systems better than we do.\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am.\" With a crisp nod, she bounded over to her twin's station.\n\nMitch made room. \"Did TJ help you stow away, too?\"\n\n\"No. I did that on my own. Why else did you send me to the _Tempest_ to learn about its systems?\"\n\n\"I'm not _that_ reckless,\" the Abyssinian lied. She _was_ that reckless, although she hadn't done anything deliberately. She _did_ accurately guess she was liable to be blamed, at least in part; that could all come later, too. \"Do you understand what we're trying to do? The low-power repulsor unit needs to exactly match the reactor's radiation profile.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Yeah, I think I get it. These older reactors, they've got a damping unit to control feedback. You think the harmonics are important?\"\n\n\"We're trying to blow a hole open between parallel universes,\" Mitch said with a shrug. \"How the fuck should I know? I guess we should try, though. That's what Barry seemed to be telling me.\"\n\n\"Alright. I'll take that on. You'll want to set the repulsor for two angles... I'll get those to you in a minute. That work?\"\n\n\"That works.\"\n\nBy the time it did, the freighter's self-destruct sequence was five minutes from triggering. Mitch hoped she knew what to expect from the previous encounter; she started isolating their most sensitive systems so they could be quickly restarted. There was no telling what awaited them.\n\nEli Parnell had similar thoughts: the wolf's navigational plot showed them as being exactly on course--down to the barest fraction of an arc second. That course, however, involved being pointed directly at the hulk of a freighter twice the cruiser's mass, with a reactor that seemed to be increasingly unstable.\n\nShe had a reputation for being nervous. This, strictly speaking, was not completely unfair. But Eli was willing to count such concern as entirely warranted, given the circumstances. They were trusting Dr. Schatz's proposal, based on his intuition and Maddy's recollection of what she'd learned while in captivity.\n\n_Somehow_, that ended in the decision to fly the _Dark Horse_ straight into a freighter while it was being scuttled. \"Helm?\" Captain May prompted.\n\n\"Ready, captain.\"\n\n\"Engage.\"\n\nThe wolf advanced their throttles, precisely matching the navigation plot. The freighter, a speck at first, grew larger and larger on the forward viewscreen. Eli ignored the collision alarm. She ignored the coming impact. Like everyone else, she ignored every bit of trepidation for the last few seconds. _Three... two..._\n\nDarkness.\n\nBut they'd all been ready for that. Mitch saw her paws, silhouetted by the emergency lightning; Eli felt the ship's controls under her fingers. And they understood what that meant: they were alive. \"Damage report,\" Bradley ordered.\n\n\"Helm is minimally responsive. I have orientation, I think. Just barely.\"\n\n\"Deflectors and weapons systems offline, sir,\" Bader added.\n\n\"Main grid is nominal but stable,\" Mitch read from her console as it slowly rebooted. \"DC bots are responding to a fire in the deflector control room, and the commlink to main engineering is... wait, it's back. Message from Lieutenant Hazelton: we should have main power in twenty minutes.\"\n\nIf they were ambushed, obviously, twenty minutes would be an eternity--before then, there was a bigger priority for Dave than the shields or their tactical systems. \"Get enough reserve for the sensors. Where are we?\"\n\nMitch went to work, and felt Torres nudge her side. \"You have passive, at least. Right?\"\n\nHer twin's intuitive understanding of their systems was impressive; she'd made a good point. \"Yeah. Uh. Okay. I'm picking up debris scattered in a wide radius, consistent with a ship's hull. Radioactive decay indicates it was destroyed 214 days ago.\"\n\nAnd Eli Parnell realized that, even with only its most basic functions intact, the navigation computer wasn't giving the wolf an error--that was significant in and of itself. \"I think we have a good astrometric fix, too, sir. We're in the right place.\"\n\nBit by bit, the ship pieced itself back together, and that certainty deepened. They'd made their way back to the right universe, if not the right time. There were no signs of Union patrol vessels. No signs of _anything_, for that matter.\n\n\"Long-range sensors are operational again, captain.\" Mitch started looking for signals before Maddy asked her explicitly to do so; the need was obvious.\n\n\"Scan for any Dominion ships. We'll want a tactical update as soon as possible.\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am. I think... um. Hold on. This is weird. The integrator isn't--\"\n\n\"It's fine,\" Torres said, shaking her head.\n\nMaddy couldn't see what the two Abyssinians were looking at. \"What's fine?\"\n\n\"The integrator's giving some weird--hey!\"\n\n\"It's _fine_,\" Torres muttered, batting Mitch's paw away. \"Just purge the volatile bank. There. See? It's cleared up.\"\n\n_Yes, but_. \"It's still _weird_. I'm detecting a Star Patrol ship, ma'am, about nine parsecs away.\"\n\nThat got everyone's attention. \"Who?\" May demanded. \"Is it us? It better not be us, spaceman.\"\n\n\"Uh. No. It's the _Ui-te-Rangiora_.\"\n\nDave, unlike the Akita, vaguely remembered that name. \"A long-range survey ship. Probably looking for us, Maddy.\"\n\n\"Probably. Can we hail them, Mitch?\"\n\n\"Subspace radio will be... spotty, ma'am, at this distance and without repeaters. But we can try.\"\n\n\"Do it.\"\n\nMitch fiddled with the long-distance transmitter until she was able to get an authenticated response. \"Channel open, ma'am. Audio only.\"\n\n\"This is Captain Madison May, of the _Dark Horse_. How do you read me?\"\n\n\"Barely, captain.\" The response was, indeed, crackly and indistinct. \"This is the _Ui-te-Rangiora_, Commander Wilkes speaking. It's really you? We'd given up hope.\"\n\n\"It's really us. And a long story. I wasn't expecting to see any friends in this sector. Is the Star Patrol in the Rewa-Tahi now?\"\n\n\"Yes, if you count us. I'm afraid we're it, captain. Doubling back to meet you now at flank speed. How is your ship?\"\n\n\"Battered, but intact. We'll do our best to intercept you.\"\n\n\"Appreciated, ma'am. Admiral Mercure will want a battle readiness report, ma'am, if it's not too much trouble. I... I have to tell you the situation isn't good. But I'd best speak more in person.\"\n\nEveryone on the bridge flinched at that--even Torres, who could tell the change in mood. May kept her head up. \"Understood. _Dark Horse_ out. Ens--Lieutenant Bader, sorry--I want that report as soon as possible. Helm, make to intercept the _Ui-te-Rangiora_ and start moving the moment we have our hyperdrive back. Dave, track down Beltran and Lieutenant Vasquez and meet me in my ready room. Ah, and Dr. Schatz. Him too.\"\n\n\"Right now?\"\n\n\"Right now.\"\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\nIt took only fifteen minutes, during which time the Akita found herself actually pacing, trying to deal with the gnawing pit in her stomach. She rubbed at her wrist--the compliance bracelet was gone, removed by their doctor, and she realized she was alone with her thoughts for the first time since departing Ankiyana.\n\nShe didn't like them.\n\nThe others picked up on her uneasiness immediately. \"What's on your mind, Maddy? Is this about, uh... our new crewman?\"\n\nDave's guess was logical; on the other hand, until he mentioned it Torres had completely slipped her mind. \"No. Have Ayenni look at her, but... it'll be fine. She'll adjust.\"\n\nDr. Beltran opened her mouth to ask for clarification, but it was fairly obvious what must've happened. She suppressed the rhetorical question and, hoping against hope that her intuition was incorrect, tried the less worrying of the remaining possibilities. \"If it is something else, and you want me here, you must be concerned about the Pictor.\"\n\n\"I am. But I want you for something else. The leader of the Union's Ankiyana Research Center is a Dr. Julian Cissonius. He's been working there for twenty years--ever since he came from our universe. I want to know who he was.\"\n\nDave's brow knit as the retriever digested the implications. \"Our universe? That's why you think Torres will be able to survive here?\"\n\n\"Yes. He spent our meeting in an exposure suit, but I'm not entirely certain that wasn't just an affectation. And he said... concerning things. I didn't like our conversation. I tried to download some images of Ankiyana from the shuttle. Barry, I'm hoping you might be able to match them to something in our database. If not there, in Qalamixi's records. My guess is that it's somewhere in the Rewa-Tahi Sector.\"\n\nThe Border Collie nodded promptly. \"I'll do what I can.\"\n\nDave Bradley, in parallel, had been following up on something else--a different proper noun. \"Julian Cissonius was Star Patrol. Or... no. _Is_ Star Patrol?\" He'd _expected_ to see a 'ship lost' in the man's records, but an unsettling amount was phrased in the present tense. \"Lieutenant Commander Cissonius, last stationed at Research Center Leonardo, working on some kind of propulsion project on the _Beothuk_. Cissonius is listed as MIA, but I can't tell the exact date. My security codes don't work--it's locked by the Admiralty.\"\n\nAnd the unease she'd felt, talking to the figure in the suit, deepened. \"Someone with diplomatic codes would have special access. I believe.\"\n\nFelicia Beltran was used to the way her captain bent protocol--which was not to say the leopardess was _comfortable_ with it. \"It would be highly irregular for me to use that authority in this fashion, captain. Depending, it might even be grounds for disciplinary action.\"\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n\"ISD might, too,\" Lieutenant Vasquez volunteered. The wolf didn't know if that was _why_ May had asked him to join her--and it wasn't, exactly--but the Internal Security Division gave him broader latitude than Beltran had. \"Let me see, sir?\"\n\nDave handed his computer over. \"Be my guest.\"\n\nIt accepted Vasquez's biometric signature much faster than it should've--didn't even prompt him to confirm a 'need to know.' He cocked his head. \"Okay. The _Beothuk_ was lost with all hands in 2782, to some kind of main engine failure that destroyed the ship. Those are the classified records. Commander Cissonius was its captain, but then... his code is listed with an active command. It's--what...\"\n\nThat _was_ a rhetorical question, even if the wolf's tone was too flat for it to register as one. \"Lieutenant?\"\n\nThe broad latitude Vasquez had, as an ISD officer, demanded he recognize _why_ the information had been classified and say nothing further to Madison or the others. He owed it, as a responsibility to his commanding officer. He fought through his shock to appreciate that conclusion, and that responsibility.\n\nAnd then to discard it.\n\n\"Cissonius's cryopod was recovered, adrift, in 2784. His service record is blank for three months of rehabilitation; then he went back on active duty. But Julian Cissonius is still officially MIA--because by that point, he'd changed his name.\"\n\n\"To?\"\n\n\"Gill Mercure.\"\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Tales of the Dark Horse, Season 6","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1828038-the-witch.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1859227-the-lion.json"}}