CHAPTER 13 [Near the hyper limit, Yeltsin star system]

On board the Warspite, Lt. Cmdr. Xaiver St. Laurence opened activated the communications systems. The com laser raced towards the massive bulk of the seven million ton merchant ship Styx, causing the com system on the bridge to chime. The Styx's captain, Vincent Rico, stopped his nervous pacing and nodded for his com officer to answer the hail. If everything went according to his superiors' plans, he would have a little conversation with the military captain, then be on his way. Of course his superiors had been wrong to hire criminal elements to guard his passage, so he well knew that they weren't omniscient. The head of a Grayson captain with a rather large scar on his face appeared on the screen.

"HMS Styx, this is the captain of the GSN Warspite. Are you all right? Our sensors indicate that you have been hit and have several compartments open to space. Any assistance we can offer you is yours for the asking."

"GSN Warspite, I'm Captain Vincent Rico of the Styx. We are all fine here. The Pirate laser struck a cargo compartment only. We have no casualties or injuries. The ship is still 100% functional, with only a few cargo canisters destroyed. Your assistance is not required, but thank you for offering."

"Are you sure? It's no trouble for an engineering team to be sent over to check you out. They might see something your engineering staff missed as they have more experience assessing the damage caused by military weapons." Thad saw the Styx's captain glance towards something off camera, then look back at him with a slightly nervous expression.

[Bridge, HMS Styx]

Just as Thad had finished his reply, Captain Rico heard the lift doors open and turned to see who had intruded on to his bridge unannounced. He had not expected to see the large, heavily armed man staring back at him. The harsh white light of the bridge disappeared into the matte finish of his armor. He held a heavy flechette gun in one hand and a portable com in the other. Vincent quickly deduced that he had monitored the entire conversation. He had come to the bridge to make sure that Operation Renegade went ahead, even if Vincent suddenly got cold feet. The newcomer smiled and pointed to the open com. Even though he was very near panic, Vincent steeled himself and tried to calm his face. Turning back to the pickup, he was almost successful in hiding the fear he felt welling up inside him.

[Bridge, GSN Warspite]

Thad wondered what was going on in the merchies head. He knew that according to the script given to him by Cerberus, he was supposed to let the Styx go without any problems. Despite this, he was extremely apprehensive as to what could be so important that Cerberus would go through so much trouble over. Weather ONI needed an operative on the inside or not, Thad decided that something was most assuredly not kosher on the Styx and he needed to find out what.

"No sir, I'm afraid I must decline that offer. My engineers are top notch and I believe them when they say it is safe to proceed. We are carrying a cargo that is time critical. It is very important that we get to our final destination on time."

"Captain, I'm afraid that I must insist. I must look over your damage before you can proceed on to your next port of call. If you flew apart in hyper, it would fall on my head because I let you go without doing a proper inspection. Please heave to and prepare to receive my engineering team."

[Bridge, HMS Styx]

Vincent again darted a nervous glance to his left, then turned back to the pickup looking even more unhinged. Beads of sweat were starting to form on his brow as he tried to convince Thad to let him go. "Come on captain, can't you let the regs slip just this once? I really, REALLY need to get to my destination on time. Can't you cut me some slack?" This was not going according to the plan at all. They said that the military guy should be on his side, yet he seemed to be oblivious to what his part in mission was. Didn't he realize just how much jeopardy the mission in general and the crew of the Styx personally was being placed in? The man with the gun was getting more and more pissed for every second the com remained open. He gestured to the pickup then mouthed the words 'get rid of him'. The or else was implied by his flechette gun, which he proceeded to point directly at Vincent.

"I gave you a order Captain! Cut your accell NOW!"

[Bridge, GSN Warspite]

Captain Rico's insistent, almost panicked voice emanated from the bridge speakers. "PLEASE Sir, we really need to leave now…" His words were cut off by a quiet chuff, then by a much more sickening sound. The armored man pulled his trigger once, sending a cloud of razor edged metal shards buzzing towards Vincent Rico. The light work jumpsuit Vincent was wearing offered no protection from the 300 m/s flechettes, and they literally shredded his body before mercifully hitting the camera and cutting the feed to the bridge of the Warspite. Expressions of shock crossed every one of the bridge officers, including Thad himself. Jen was the first to recover, as her plot suddenly changed.

"Skipper! The Styx, she's jumped to max accell and is heading towards the hyper limit!"

"What the f***?! Helm, plot an intercept course, max accell! Gun's, once we close to energy range I want you to take out their nodes. I want that ship alive! Com, patch me though to Col. van Yurgen."

Xaiver training broke though the horror of seeing a humanbeing turned into so much hamburger, and he responded to his skippers request. Linus' craggy face filled the com, a sour expression on his face. For a split second, Thad wondered weather it was because he had just thrown away ONI's chance to get a operative on the inside of Cerberus or because of the events transpiring because of that choice.

"Col., when we hit the Styx's nodes I want every available marine loaded for bear and ready to board her!"

"Already begun Captain. Do you want me to recall the pinnace headed to the pirate?"

"No, I need that ship secured. She is still 100% combat capable and I don't like leaving dangerous enemies behind me. Tell your marines to get her secured and take her in system till one of the picket's can relieve them."

[Power armor morgue, GSN Warspite]

"Understood." After Thad terminated the connection, Linus turned to his assembled marines. "Ok people, as usual the navy has dropped the ball and it's up to us to clean up the mess. The situation is this, the merchie Styx has been commandeered by an unknown number of assailants. There is at least one known target armed with a flechette gun. Current status of enemy offensive and defensive capabilities is unknown. We need to go in and get her back. Now we need to take as many of them alive as possible to find out just what they know. Per that, you will all be issued stunners. Orders are to stun if possible, use deadly force as required. Any questions? No, then suit up! We leave in 15 minutes."

The two squads of 40 marines started sealing their power armor. Once their internal systems check revealed no errors, they checked out their weapons. First, they all received their stunners, which could bring down an adult with just a grazing hit. Next they got their heavy weapons. 15 members of each squad carried flechette guns, as they were the safest weapons for shipboard use. They shot a cloud of razor edged metal shards, much like a shotgun. They lacked the punch to penetrate armor, so they posed little chance of damaging the ship. Another 15 per squad were issued pulser rifles, just in case heavier firepower was needed. Pulser rifles could spew out hundreds of tiny darts at over 2000 meters per second. Each squad also received four plasma rifles, four grenade launchers and four tribarrels.

Grenade launchers shot the usual high explosive and fragmentary ordinance. Plasma rifles spat out a bolt of pure plasma, frying anything in its path. If used near the outer hull, they stood a good chance of melting through and opening up the ship to space. The Tribarrels were truly nasty weapons. The near nose to tail stream of heavy darts left the barrel at hypersonic velocities. They could cut a bulkhead in half if the owner wasn't careful. Once everyone had been double checked by a squadmate, they formed up and marched to the boat bay double time.

[HMS Styx, bridge, that same time]

Nathaniel Ibbons calmly turned from the mess that had once been the merchant's captain and proceeded to shred the helmsman and navigator. The com officer was slightly more fortunate in that he was able to jump behind a console before the gun was trained on him. But it was a momentary respite at best. In seconds, Nathaniel had crossed the bridge and cut him down as he begged for his life. He then calmly strode through the butchery he has wrought to the intership com terminal.

"Charles, do you have engineering secure?" Nathaniel's deep rumbling voice asked.

"I regret that my men and I were unable to prevent the chief engineer from initiating a security lockout. He hit the switch just as my pulser cut him down. Everything is going according to your plan otherwise." Charles braced himself for the berating he knew was coming.

"YOU INCOMPETENT WOMAN!" Nathaniel bellowed, his rage a force of nature even though the com speaker. "Without access to the computer, we won't be able to overload the fusion plants!"

Wincing, Charles hastily replied. "Sir, I am quiet confidant that we will be able to hack through the security in time to blow the reactors."

"You had better, or else the eternal fires of hell await you!" With a vicious stab of his finger he cut the transmission. If they weren't all going to die anyway, and if Charles' computer skills were no longer needed, Nathaniel would have had him killed on the spot. He opened a channel to his second in command. "Is everything ready Peter?"

"Yes sir, the men are all in unpowered armor and have their weapons ready. The crew has either been eliminated or locked in the brig. We'll take out as many of the apostate boarders as we can."

Nathaniel bit of a harsh retort that nearly erupted from his throat. He knew intellectually that it would be impossible to hold a determined enemy. Yet his heart, which sometimes got the better of his head, said that they could do anything if their faith in God was strong enough. The group of Masadan mercenaries' faith apparently wasn't though, because the shipment had been caught just short of its destination.

"I should have known that infidel which and her henchmen couldn't be trusted. I suppose this is the price I pay for listening to a woman! She said that they can help us free ourselves from both the infidels and the apostate in one fell swoop. The devil himself couldn't have made a better lure for my eternal soul. They offer what we require to do God's work, but that is of little use to our cause if it never gets to Masada. I should have seized this ship as soon as it went to hyper!"

Peter, who had been the brake on Nathaniel's rage since they were childhood playmates, acted in that capacity again. "Now Nathaniel, you know that without her contacts our cargo would never have materialized. And without her money, it would never pass the infidel inspectors in orbit around Masada. Even if we had to deal with a woman to get the cargo safely into our hands, it was worth it because with these tools we will free our world."

"Could have freed our world, old friend, could have... She lied to us and now we will die here without completing our mission. All of the sacrifices we have made are for nothing. Our world will still be tainted by unbelievers, our people still under the heel of the Harlot of Satan!"

"Nathaniel, if it is God's will that we die here today, then we die. We can only serve him and his will to the best of our abilities. If he has deemed our mission unworthy of success now, that doesn't mean that he will not allow another like it to succeed in the future. We must fight the infidels until we cannot draw another breath. Perhaps then God will deem our sacrifice worthy and allow our planet to be freed. What do you think the enemy will do to us?"

"If the apostate battle cruiser had wanted us dead it would have turned us into atoms by now. They must want the ship intact, with live people for questioning. They will most likely send a boarding party after they have disabled our impeller drive. Assemble the men at the ambush points and get them ready. Once they are all present, send some out to begin laying explosive charges on the briefed areas. If we take enough of them with us, God may forgive us for being unable to bring this shipment to Masada." It also had the advantage of destroying the cargo as well, eliminating evidence and witnesses in one star hot boil of light.

"It shall be done." Peter answered, then cut the com. Turning to the 60 odd men that made up the Masadan presence on the merchie, he leveled them with a cold glare. "You all heard him, why are you still standing there! Move out, on the double!"

[Bridge, GSN Warspite, 15 minutes later]

"She has been running straight for the hyper limit all through the intercept Skipper. She didn't even turn to a bearing that would have allowed her to reach it before we caught up to her. I wonder why?" Cmdr. Custer said through the com from CIC.

"XO, if whomever is now in control over there doesn't know how to handle a ship, I certainly am not going to argue. Their inability to do so allowed us to catch them, and that's the main thing. Gun's you may take out their wedge as you bear."

"Aye sir, graser one and two locked on. Firing!" Jen said as she mashed the crimson commit button. The two deadly yet invisible beams lanced out from the Warspite's side. Both struck squarely on their assigned targets and the Styx's wedge faltered, then dropped to almost nothing. With that many nodes damaged, there would be know way she could configure her sail for hyper space travel. A powerful tractor grabbed on to the drifting merchie and the Warspite commenced deceleration. "We got her sir. Commencing deceleration."

"Good. Com, get me the boat bay."

"You're on sir."

"Gator flight, you are cleared to go."

The lead pinnace pilot came on channel. "Thank you sir, Gator flight is away"

[Pinnace Gator One, enroute to the Styx]

Master Sargent Claire Shepard's chocolate brown eyes looked over the checklist on her HUD one last time. Feeling sweat start to from in the short, dirty blond curls hair, she turned up the power armor's air conditioning level even as she read through the list. Everything was still green so she had no cause for alarm, yet years of experience had taught her that if anything bad can happen, it will. The cursor on her HUD tracked her eye movements to the close window button. She keyed the voice-input button and said close, removing the checklist from her helmet display. Then Claire reactivated her external microphone and speakers. The quiet banter of confident people washed over him. The people were loose, yet focused. That was good, you didn't want to go in to battle to tense or too mellow. Either extreme was likely to get you killed. Most of the platoon were combat veterans, with new recruits sprinkled in among them.

The sensors on the shoulder of the armoplast shell transmitted a signal through to the skin beneath. Shepard turned to see one of the new recruits wanting a little bit of assurance.

"Gunny, how can you be so calm when you know you are going into battle? I feel almost scared enough to jump straight through my suit!" the marine said in a terse whisper.

Leaning conspiratorially towards him "Recruit Wolf I may look calm, but a part of me is just as scared as you are. The secret is to use that fear to your advantage, not letting it rule your actions. A little fear is a good thing, to much will get you killed. Just stick by me and you'll do fine."

Wolf let out a deep breath and tried to smile. "Thanks Gunny, knowing you're scared to makes me feel better. If you can control it, I guess I can too."

"Sure you can, just trust in your training and you'll get through this no sweat."

[Cargo Hanger Eight, HMS Styx]

The massive bay doors started to open. You could almost fit an entire destroyer inside them, but all that passed through the forcefield were two marine pinnaces. None of the enemy was there to meet them. They settled down on the largest plot of deck space, beside a massive cargo shuttle. Even before the drives had fully shut off, the 80 marine's from both craft had begun piling out. Encountering no resistance, they began to fan out and covered all entrances into the bay. Once the bay was secured, Col. van Yurgen started doling out assignments.

"Red squad, you'll stay here and guard the bay. Blue, Green, Yellow and Purple squads are with me. We are going to engineering. White, Gold and, Black squads, you get the bridge. Once those are secure, white, gold, blue and green will conduct a deck by deck search. Remember people, we want them alive if possible. Ready, OK lets move out!"

[Bridge, HMS Styx]

Nathaniel gazed sourly at the monitor. God had indeed decided he was to die today. Four to three odds were not good. They went even lower than that because his men had only been able to access one crate with power armor. Only 10 of his people were on equal footing with the apostate minions. The other 55 had only unpowered armor, a very poor substitute but better than nothing. Sealing the helmet of his own power armor, he turned to the other nine members of his group.

"We can no longer complete our mission." Many of the men hung their heads in shame at that. "But we can still strike a blow at the infidels! We shall go to lay in ambush along their most likely avenue of approach. Fight well for today we shall see paradise." His men cheered wildly, then turned and trotted to the lift. He trotted in after them, the doors closing off the ghastly sight of the bridge. The smears of biomatter that had once been the bridge crew were partially obscured by smoke that hung in the air from burned out consoles. It was fortunate that all Nathaniel had been armed with was a flechette gun. If he was armed with something more deadly, the bridge might well have been unrecognizable. The tribarrel he now carried was vastly more satisfying. He activated the internal com link to engineering.

"Charles, have you hacked the security yet?"

"I have already breached the first layers sir. In a few minutes I should be past them and back inside the system."

"Hurry up damn it, you may not even have minutes! The infidels are on board and most likely headed your way." Nathaniel closed the circuit before Charles could reply.

The troop exited the lift and marched down the hall beyond. Small cargo pods of varying sizes had been set up as impromptu barricades. The men behind them smiled and gave up a predatory growl as the power armored figures strode past. They took up station in rooms on either side at the opposite end of the hall. The barricade was the carrot to lure the enemy into the hall. With luck, they wouldn't even detect the stealthed power armor until it was to late.

[Gold squad, HMS Styx]

Gunny Shepard walked as quietly as she could. The number and capabilities of the enemy were still unknown, so giving away her position was not the smart thing to do. Her sensors were tuned for maximum acuity. Her HUD would instantly tag anything out of the ordinary. What it wouldn't detect was an enemy with the ability to jam her sensors. She checked her position and that of her squad mates on the god map in the corner of her display. They were making good time through the deserted ship. Coming up to the next intersection of halls, she and the five marines' with her stopped. The other five members of gold squad proceeded to leap-froged them. Tried and true tactics still worked. One team moved while the other provided overwatch and covering fire if necessary.

Recruit Wolf made his way towards the next intersection. Opening the blast door that had been deployed across the next hall, he slowly made his way froward. As the door opened, Wolf's suits sensors detected heat signatures ahead. He was just starting to lift his pulser when he ran out of time. Two plasma bolts screamed down the hall. Three of the advance team were lucky. They were only grazed by the shot, shorting out some of their servos and sensor systems. Recruit Wolf and another private never even had a chance to scream, the searing plasma turning them into atoms. The overwatch team poured pulser fire down the hall. Seconds later, Private Ypres opened up with his tribarrel. The flimsy cargo containers that the enemy had been using as cover disintegrated, along with many of those hiding behind them.

Shepard keyed the general com net. "All elements, all elements, this is Gold One! Be advised the enemy has access to heavy weapons and is wearing unpowered armor. Lost two of my squad to plasma rifle fire, another three have minor armor damage. I count six enemy dead so far. They set up cargo containers as a barricade and waited in ambush."

"Roger that Gold One." Col. van Linus' voice replied. "All squads, look lively. The enemy has decided to be difficult." His dispassionate voice showed no trace of what Gunny Shepard knew he was going through. She knew he took the loss of his people personally.

"OK people, opening doors with the handle is a definite no no. From now on, Gold Eight will handle that with the plasma rifle. Would you be so kind Private Cortez?"

"With pleasure ma'am!" Cortez grinned as he leveled the barrel of his rifle at the next door and fired. One minute the blast door was intact, the next it had a eight-foot wide hole in it. Gold Three and Four sprinted to the gaping hole and took up position on either side of it. Unclipping a flashbang, Gold four threw it through the breach. Milliseconds after it went off, they both jumped through the hole, pulser rifles blazing. Seconds behind them charged the rest of the squad. The carnage on the other side was horrifying. Three of the enemy were barely recognizable as once being human. Another two were never going to wake up again. The last one was lucky, if you could call it that. He only had his arm severed just below the elbow. Staring at his stump in confusion, he started screaming and wouldn't stop.

"Get a tourniquet on that arm. We need him alive if we can help it. Command this is Gold one, requesting a medic to deck G section 34 junction 1A. I have a injured enemy in custody. Pulser fire has removed his lower arm."

"Copy that. A medic is being dispatched to your position ASAP."

"Understood Command." Turning to her squad mates she said, "Is the bleeding stopped?"

"Yes ma'am, as much as we can do anyway."

"Good!" She drew her stunner and fired. The silence that followed was almost more deafening than the man's screams. "Move out, the medic is coming for him, and we still have to get to the bridge.

[Bridge, HMS Styx, 7 minutes later]

The survivors of white, gold and black squads rendezvoused at the bridge within minutes of each other. All together they had lost six and had seven combat-ineffective. Those had fallen back to the boat bay where the medics had established an impromptu hospital. No one had sustained injuries that required immediate transport back to the ship yet, which was good. In exchange for those casualties, Warspite's marines had taken three captives, freed 35 remaining crew found locked in their quarters, and killed 20 combatants.

[Ambush Point Tango, just outside engineering, HMS Styx]

Waiting was the hardest part. It seemed like he had been sitting in the room for hours, but he knew that it had only been minutes. Nathaniel keyed his com. "Charles, you had better be finished, cause your time is very nearly up."

"Just a minute more…" Nathaniel cut him off.

"You don't have a minute you fool. The infidel is almost here!"

"Well why don't you just come in here and blow it up then. I'm doing the best I can!"

"You know just as well as I do that the only remaining fusion plant will go into emergency shut down long before we breach the plants armor shell. It is armored to survive ship based weapons, what do you think our hand weapons can do? You just make sure you drop the safety interlocks and explode that plant!" He cut the link in disgust. Then he heard weapons open up in the hall outside. It only lasted a few seconds, then silence returned. Nathaniel forced himself to wait. Running out into the hall now would only assure his few remaining people were killed in a crossfire. He waited for the longest minute of his life, spoke the attack order into his com, then bolted for the door.

Nathaniel had waited just the right amount of time. The infidel covering squad had taken up position down the hall as the advance team made their way to the last door before engineering. They had gotten sloppy as well. No one was looking back down the hall to cover the squad's rear. All this was taken in during the milliseconds it took for Nathaniel to clear the door way and bring his tribarrel up to firing position. Plasma bolts and tribarrel darts streamed down on the backs of Orange squad. In seconds, nearly the entire squad was cut to ribbons. Orange Seven, a gray eyed sergeant with copper hair and freckles was the sole survivor, remaining miraculously untouched. He dove into the relative safety of a side hall. A stream of tribarrel darts stitched into the wall behind him. As he disappeared behind the bulkhead, the stream hit his feet, removing them from his body. His suit's legs automatically clamped down in order to staunch the blood flowing out of his shattered appendages.

Sargent Eden knew his goose was cooked. In the shape he was in he didn't stand a chance in hell of surviving what was soon coming around the corner. Barely holding on to consciousness because of the pain and blood loss, he still managed to key his com. "Orange… Seven. Need help… Nine enemies in power… armor…" then he lost consciousness.

Fortunately for him help was already on the way. Even as he passed out, the door at the end of the cross-hall opened and in charged Blue squad with Col. van Yurgen in the lead. With practiced precision they fell in to defensive positions along the hall. As the nine enemy charged around the corner in a disorganized mob, eight heavy pulsers and two tribarrels breathed death.

The momentum imparted on the Masadan's by the fire literally lifted them up and away from Blue squad. They fell a full meter down the hall, which is quite a feat considering the weight of a power-armored human. They would never get up again, their armor perforated and shattered by hundreds of darts. The hall behind them didn't look much better, with huge holes punched through multiple the bulkheads.

Nathaniel Ibbons last thought was that God had deserted him. He had tried the best he could, yet it hadn't been good enough. The ship was still intact, along with the cargo, and the infidel were almost at engineering. His men's last stand had been for nothing…

Blue squad blew open the last door cutting off engineering from the rest of the ship. Blue Two was the first through the hole. As he rolled behind a nearby console for cover, flechettes bounced off of his armor. Yelling a war cry, a lone figure stood behind a console firing at him as fast as the gun was able. As he brought up his pulser to end it Col. van Yurgen's voice blared over his com.

"Take him alive damn it!"

Allowing his pulser to drop on its sling, he drew his stunner. The enemy emptied his flechette gun, its normally lethal fruit merely sparking off of Blue Two's armor. Screaming in rage and fear, he threw the now useless weapon at Blue Two, then picked up an instrument lying on the console next to him. Pressing a button on it, a high pitched wine started up. Blue Two saw the slight distortion caused by a forceblade. At another time, having someone try to take out a power armored marine with nothing but a forceblade would have reduced him to hysterics. Oh sure it would cut through an unarmored human like tissue paper, but would barely scratch the paint on Blue Two's suit. Yelling like a madman, with a look of desperation in his eyes, the man charged Blue Two with the forceblade held high over his head. He made it half way to Blue Two before Blue Two's stunner dropped him like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

[Bridge, GSN Warspite, 10 minutes later]

The news of the casualties, especially Orange squad, had been a tough pill to swallow. Thad knew he could have prevented it if he had stuck to the script Cerberus Corp. had laid out for him. Yet the very fact that there had been so many people on board that had tried to kill the boarding party was proof that this ship carried a very dangerous cargo.

"Warspite, this is Gator flight, requesting permission to dock."

"Permission granted Gator flight. Welcome home, and good work." Mr. St. Laurence said, though the comment was practically devoid of emotion.

[Boat Bay One, GSN Warspite, that same time]

Thad watched silently as the two pinnaces drifted into the bay, pulled by the invisible lines of the tractor beams. Once they had landed, a very somber group of marines filed out. They were short 20 out of the original 80 that went out. There were also 13 wounded to greater and lesser degrees. Yet they had also collected 5 prisoners and had 35 of the crew, which would help for what was to come. Although there had only been time for a cursory examination of the cargo, what had been discovered was very disturbing. Crate after crate of power armor, weapons, anti missile batteries, even modern tanks and APC's! If this cargo had somehow made it past the inspectors around Masada, it would have been a major disaster. The radical faction of Masada was hard enough to keep in line as it was. If they gained access to modern weapons… Thad shuddered.

Captain Thaddeus Armstrong strode towards his ship's brig with a scowl on his face. The treecat on his shoulder mirrored his mood. Thad had put off meeting the fanatics that had wreaked havoc among his marine detail for as long as possible. He had hoped that the extra time would have improved his mood, yet it wasn't nearly enough. Thad had initially been upset with himself for causing those casualties. Oh Thad knew that he hadn't actually killed those marines, but he set in motion the chain of events that had caused them. Thad had been perfectly willing to beat himself up emotionally over that choice, but Taz hadn't let him do that for long. The assurance and love that had flowed through their link had been a godsend. It allowed Thad to redirect his feelings towards a more productive end.

Instead of blaming himself, Thad began to transfer his guilt on to those truly responsible. Although he had issued the order, it was the zealots on the Styx that had caused those casualties. They could have surrendered peacefully, yet they chose to do things the hard way. Most of them had paid for that mistake with their lives.

Considering the weapons used against his boarding parties, Thad was relieved that there were only 20 dead marines. Modern weapons in the hands of those who knew what to do with them could have wiped out every one of the boarders. Fortunately for the Warspite's marines, the way the Masadans had used them showed their lack of expertise. The Masadans had wore unpowered armor over their skin suits. Skin suits would protect the wearer from hard vacuum and moderate amounts of radiation. Unpowered armor would protect much of the wearer from flechettes and small pulser fire. While nowhere near as good as power armor, it was still excellent protection when compared with fighting in shirtsleeves.

If the Masadans were better trained in modern weapons and tactics, they could have set up a very nasty ambush in the main cargo area. Using the unpowered armor's ECM suite set to max, they could have remained hidden until the trap was ready to be sprung. While the ECM power would have not lasted very long at that power setting, it may have been long enough for such a plan to work. Emerging from behind various cargo containers and pallets, they could have taken the entire party by surprise and caused much greater casualties. Thad thanked God that they had adopted a more sequential and divided series of ambushes. The casualties even they had caused had been bad enough.

As he entered the brig, Thad noticed that his XO and Col. van Yurgen were already there. They both turned and nodded to him as he entered.

"Well exec, what do we have so far?"

"Not much yet skipper. After we explained the severity of the charges against them, most of the merchies crew spilled what little they knew. Most of them were ignorant as to just what the Styx was carrying. The manifest said that it was modern farming supplies and machinery, along with a few luxury goods. Once the ship was underway, there was no need to check inside the cargo bays. Thus, what the cargo containers really contained remained hidden from the crew. Only a few of the officers even knew what it truly was."

"After a little… persuasion by some of my marines, even they talked. I am positive that both the Star Kingdom and Grayson will find what they said very interesting. They apparently had a rather large sum of credits for use as bribes to certain customs officials in Masada. With the bribes, they would only do a cursory examination of the cargo before OKing it for offloading." Linus said, his face getting angrier and angrier with every word. "Once it was offloaded to store houses on Masada, we don't know what was planned for it. The few Masadan prisoners we captured are not talking."

"Nor did I expect them to captain" Cmdr. Custer explained. "They do not fear death, so very little we can do to would cause them to talk. We Graysons have had a long and not particularly pleasant history with the religious zealots of Masada. Even though it pains me to say it, we come from the same stock. Both peoples originally came to Grayson on the same colony ship. Grayson's ancestors were members of the 'Church of Humanity Unchained'. They wanted to escape the evils of technology on Old Earth. But God the Tester has a strong sense of irony. When my ancestors finally reached our new Eden, it was found that it had a high concentration of heavy metals. Thus we were forced to continue to use the evils of technology to ensure our survival. Yet this caused an ideological split among the original colonists. The anti-tech faction became 'the Faithful', while the pro-tech side became 'Moderates'."

"Once the Faithful were forced to accept that Grayson needed technology to survive, they set their sights on creating the perfect godly society. Everything from dietary laws to ritual cleansing was set down into their ideology. Deviation from their doctrine was punishable by stoning. Eventually civil war erupted between the two factions. After five years of hard fighting, the Faithful were finally defeated. Yet just as victory seemed assured the Faithful unveiled their doomsday weapon. If they couldn't have their version of a godly society they would destroy the planet. In order to save Grayson, the Moderates cut a deal with them. Every single one of them was exiled to the nearest habitable system, Masada. Once there, they proceeded to set up the society God had intended for them."

Custer went on grimly, "Unfortunately that didn't solve the problem. They see it as their mission from God to fix everything that is wrong in the universe. This includes forcing Grayson to toe their doctrinal line. There have been several wars down the centuries since then, even including the odd nuclear strike. Their doctrine completely removes the entire New Testament from the Bible. This is because they don't consider Jesus Christ to be the messiah. If he truly was, then technology would never have arisen on Earth, they would never have been kicked off of Grayson, and Woman would have been put in her proper place throughout the universe."

"I had a general history as part of my brief before I came to Grayson, but I had no idea. How can any God sanction such acts?" Thad replied, shock spreading across his face.

"Our religion was almost as… well I suppose backward best describes it, as Masada's is today. Until recently, Grayson women had no legal rights. Thanks in no small part to Steadholder Honor Harrington, these views have undergone a radical change. Due to Manticore's garrisoning of Masada, a large portion of the population have become even more rooted in their religion. They see the Star Kingdom of Manticore in general and your queen personally as the servants of Satan. Your technology and medicine are perceived as evil bait to suck in those whose faith is not strong enough."

"Unfortunately for both Grayson and the Star Kingdom, many of the real troublemakers disappeared before we were able to get a hold of them. They have gone underground, and are being hidden by like-minded individuals until they have an opportunity to strike. If they got a hold of the weapons the Styx was carrying, things would have gotten very bloody on Masada."

Thad merely nodded. He had already talked with Col. van Yurgen as to just what havoc the weapons could do if they had made it to Masada. If the Masadan's chose to use the weapon systems in cities, then Manticore would have no choice but to execute an orbital bombardment. Kinetic strikes had the power of a small nuke, but didn't cause any radioactive fallout. They would be forced to take out large sections of a city, and Thad knew how the government's enemies would spin that news. Cerberus had thought their plan out well. The civil unrest that such a strike would cause would destabilize the government. In and of itself it wouldn't be enough to bring it down, but Thad had no doubt that Cerberus had other plans laid out. They would continue to whittle down confidence in the government, eventually kicking out the last support. Then they could put someone they controlled in power.

Thad smiled to himself. Cerberus had made one fatal slip-up though. They had counted on him to let the merchie go free and clear. They had thought they had him cowed by threatening to reveal his past. What they hadn't counted on was his being adopted by a treecat. Because of his bond with Taz, Thad had been able to accept what he had been. Acceptance had removed the fear of his past being revealed to the entire quadrant, and thus the control Cerberus had tried to exert over him.

"This is what we have been able to piece together from what the crew has told us." Julius broke it down for his CO. " The starting point of the merchie was in the Silesian Confederacy. She then proceeded to the pickup point in the Casca system. As well as the cargo of weapons systems, she also picked up 60 'passengers'. The crew described them as keeping mostly to themselves and rather rude. They turned out toAfter loading the disguised weapons containers, the Styx started out for Masada in the Endicott system. While in hyperspace, three cruisers intercepted them. They claimed to be Manticoran units heading for the Yeltsin system and asked if the captain would like an escort as far as Grayson. Being that Endicott was just a stone's throw away astronomically, the Styx's captain agreed. What the crew didn't know was that they were really pirates masquerading as the good guys. Why they waited so long before making their move is beyond me though. They could have taken the ship when they first met and no one would have been the wiser."

"I think I can help you there. I just received a situation report from the marines aboard the captured pirate. In it they said the crew claimed to have been employed to guard the Styx. But instead of taking his half payment, doing the job and then getting the rest, their commander got greedy. He hoped to take the half payment, then pirate the merchie as well. They said it was sheer bad luck that the attack was finally launched so close to Yeltsin's hyper limit. It was that slipup that allowed the Styx to crash translate back to n-space to seek aid." Thad explained to his XO and Linus.

What Thad left out was what he had deduced. Cerberus had wanted to use him to cover up their prior miscalculation of hiring a pirate squadron as escort for their Trojan horse. They wanted the cargo to be safe, but rather than delay the shipment they chose the more risky path and let it go anyway. There was just one minor alteration to that part of the plan. A warning was sent to the Styx's skipper, allerting him to the danger the pirate cruisers posed and instructing him to revert to n-space as near to a certain set of coordinates as possible. That was why Cerberus had been so adamant that Thad go through that volume of space. He was supposed to kill the traitorous pirates when the chased the merchie across the hyper limit. Then Thad was to let the Styx make the short hyper journey to Endicott. Once there, the Bribed officials and inspectors would let the cargo down to the planet undisturbed. No one would be the wiser until the weapons were used against the troops garrisoning Masada.

"I want to see one of the Masadan prisoners."

"Are you sure Skipper. They ain't exactly what you'd friendly."

"I still want to see one. I need to see just what kind of person can so blindly follow something as screwed up as Masadan theology, even if it means they have to die."

Julius shrugged his shoulders at his captain, then told the brig guards to bring out the prisoner in cell A-12. From the instant the cell door opened, a nearly screaming voice was heard. The combination of words sounded like a prayer or chant of some kind. "I'm sorry sir, but they all have been doing that since the stun wore off." The guards had to physically drag him out because he wouldn't use his own legs to stand or walk. With a guard on either side, the prisoner was hauled roughly up by the shoulders, still chanting, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. Thad walked up to him, seeing an animal look of rage flash in the Masadan's eyes. Thad had to yell to be heard above the din.

"I just want to know one thing… WHY?"

The prisoner stopped yelling and stared harder at Thad. "Wouldn't you do everything in your power to free your home from Satan's devious influence? No, you wouldn't because you are a HERITIC, someone who follows the Handmaiden of Satan HERSELF!" And with those words, the Masadan sent a huge glob of spit directly onto Thad's face. Taz tensed and bared his needle sharp fangs, letting out a sibilant hiss, but a strong thought by Thad stopped him from shredding the prisoner where he stood. Yet Thad didn't have such a link with the humans with him.

"Why you…" Julius screamed in rage as he made a lunge towards the prisoner. A surprisingly strong hand gripped his arm, pulling him up short.

"NO! Can't you see, it's what he wants! Don't give him the satisfaction."

Looking down at the vise like hand on his arm then up to the stern face of his CO, Julius felt the rage that had exploded in him because of the insult deflate like air from a leaky balloon. The Masadan prisoner began to laugh.

"Ah ha, I knew you would be unable to strike one as filled with the true word of God as I am." Then the prisoner started laughing again, growing louder by the second.

"Return that vermin back to his cage!" Thad said as he wiped the disgusting mass off of his scarred face.

"With pleasure sir!" one of the guards said. The prisoner had both arms pulled a little more than necessary as he was roughly manhandled back to his cell.

Turning back to the Col., Thad spoke vehemently. "I want you to personally make sure that everyone of those animals is safely transferred to Grayson Planetary Security. If anyone can get information out of their sorry hides, it's them."

"You have my word on that Captain."

Captain Armstrong settled into his acceleration couch heavily. Taz swarmed down from his person's shoulder to curl up in his lap. The treecat pressed up into the hand absently scratching behind his ears, his buzzing purr quite audible in the enclosed space of the bridge. The fact that the bad people had been caught and were being brought to justice was enough for the cat. Thad looked down at his companion, wishing his life was as black and white.

Unfortunately his life was not as simple as that. He now had to worry about what possible repercussions his actions would have. It was a given that his past would come out for all to see, yet Thad wondered if Cerberus would go even farther in its quest for vengeance. He had no delusions that they would try nothing, they had invested to much into this operation to do that.

Not liking the dark train of thought his person was going along, Taz sat up and placed a fine boned true hand on either side of Thad's face. As he stared up at Thad he poured reassurance and love into their link, but with it, a mild scolding for being so down. A smile starting on his face Thad silently apologized to his companion, yet didn't chance his thoughts. Chuffing in response, Taz settled back down in Thaddeus' lap and started purring again. Time slowly ticked by as the Warspite cruised back to Grayson orbit. The massive merchantman followed in her wake, it's prize crew doing an excellent job of handling the massive wall of metal.

"Coming up on our assigned orbital slot skipper." The astrogator announced.

Thad shook himself as his mind came back to the present. "Thank you Mr. Escobar." Turning towards the helmsman he said, "Chief O'Mally, please bring us into standard geostationary orbit at the assigned coordinates."

"Sure thing sir."

"Captain, I am receiving a hail from Grayson."

"Put it up Mr. St. Laurence." The last face in the universe Thad had expected to see appeared on the com screen. Honor Harrington's almond eyes stared back at him from the display, her long dark brown hair disappearing behind her back. She had an exotic beauty about her. She was one of only 80 feudal lords known as steadholders that made up the governing body of Grayson. She was also worth something like three and a half billion credits, the vast majority of it coming from prize money from enemy ships captured in battle. Lady Harrington was also had one of the best combat records and was arguably the best tactician in the entire sector. She had demonstrated that twice in the Yeltsin star system alone, which explained some things. Honor held the rank of Admiral in the explosively expanding Grayson Navy, and was in fact its second-highest ranking officer. Due to political enemies in the Star Kingdom, she only held the rank of Commodore in the Navy of her birth.

Thad felt himself stiffen to attention as his mind registered just who had called him. Taz also straightened out, staring intently at the treecat perched on Honor's chair back. The cream and gray treecat's grass green eyes appeared to be just as interested in Taz. Thad had seen the images of Honor and her cat, Nimitz, defending Grayson's head of state and his family. They had done so with precision and deadly effect. During the attack her left eye and cheek had been severely damaged, yet that hadn't stopped her from killing a ex-Peep, Havenite run battle cruiser with a mere cruiser. She had saved Grayson from certain destruction by that action, and Protector Benjamin Mayhew IX had made her one of Grayson's Steadholders because of it. She was the first female Steadholder in Grayson's nearly 1000-year history.

It was largely due to her influence that both Grayson society and its young navy had changed so much for the better. Honor arched and eyebrow and her cool soprano sprang from the com. "Well, well Captain Armstrong, that was very impressive. Taking out two pirate cruisers, capturing a third, and exposing a major plot against our forces on Masada. And all before your space trials are complete."

Thad forced himself not to squirm under her hawk like gaze as he formulated a reply. Shrugging, he said, "I guess that it was good old fashioned luck Ma'am."

Honor waved away his modesty. "Nonsense, what I saw today was a combination of commendable skill and good instincts, plain and simple. I would appreciate it if you could come down to Harrington Steading so we can converse in person. How does two hours from now sound?"

When the second ranking member of your military made a request, you didn't dare turn them down. "Two hours is just fine Ma'am."

"Very good, I look forward to meeting you in person Captain." The com closed the channel as she finished speaking. Thad heard a voice beside him.

"Way to go Skipper," his exec said, "only a week in Grayson uniform and already being praised by Lady Harrington herself! And she wants to meet you in person! Damn you're lucky Sir."

"Luck had less to do with it than you might think." Julius gave Thad a odd look. Not wanting to explain his reasoning, Thad quickly went on. "Well, I suppose I should go and get ready. It wouldn't do for me to appear before Admiral Harrington for the first time looking anything less than my best would it? Mind the store till I get back XO." Rising from his chair, Thad transferred Taz to his shoulder. The cat sank ivory white claws into the reinforced fabric of his blue uniform tunic as he settled in to his perch.

"You got it skipper. What I wouldn't give to be in your shoes!" Julius said mostly to himself as Thad had already disappeared into the lift.

[Captain's quarters, GSN Warspite, 15 minutes later]

Entering his quarters, Thad found his best uniform already laid out. Thad jumped into the shower for a quick rinse. Toweling dry, Thad proceeded to step into his pants. Next came the top part of the uniform, and Thad cursed the archaic buttons the Grayson's insisted on using. Stepping in front of the large mirror, he nearly swore out loud as he fumbled with what the Grayson's called a tie. The door chimed, and Thad forced his emotions back into check as he responded.

"Come."

"Ah Sir, I thought you might need some help." Leona Gibbons said from the doorway, eyes glowing with mirth.

With a pleading look, he held out the annoying piece of cloth to her. She took it and with machine like precision proceeded to tie the cloth perfectly in a matter of seconds. Thad watched what she did in the mirror with keen interest. It was almost embarrassing how easy she made it look. After she was finished, she reached up and brushed imaginary lint off of his shoulder. Giving Thad's uniform one final straightening tug, she turned her face toward his.

"There you are sir. Good enough to see even Lady Harrington now."

"Thank you so much Leona. These anachronistic uniforms the Graysons insist on keeping are made by the Devil himself!"

Clasping him on the shoulder, Leona merely smiled. "You better get going sir. Wouldn't do to keep the Admiral waiting on your first visit."

Looking at the wall chrono, Thad realized that he had spent nearly a half hour struggling with the tie, a new record even for his inexperienced hands. "Oh shoot!" Gathering Taz up from his perch on the bed Thad darted for the door, shouting another thank you over his shoulder as he went. Reaching the door, he forced himself to a brisk walk. One had to keep up appearances.

[Pinnace Zero Three, Enroute to Grayson]

The black velvet of space gave way to deep purple, then finally blue as the small craft fell to earth. Dropping further still, the pinnace eventually leveled out at around 500 feet and fell into its assigned approach vector. Out the armourplast portal, Thad got his first look at Harrington Steading. The entire compound was totally encapsulated courtesy of the handiwork of Harrington Steading's own Sky Domes. The company had been set up by Honor to seal out the heavy metals present everywhere on Grayson. Pre Alliance Grayson didn't have the tech base or the finances to support doming entire cities, but thanks to Honor Harrington, it was now possible. The pinnace slowed as it approached the docking portal. Gliding through the lock, it approached its assigned landing pad. The pilot made a textbook perfect landing dead square in the middle of the pad.

Once the systems had shut down, Thad set Taz back on his shoulder and made his way towards the hatch. Stepping out into the brilliant sunshine, he soon found someone motioning for him to come over. "If you would be so kind as to follow me Captain Armstrong, Lady Harrington is expecting you." Said the Harringtonite. Following him into a huge and ornate building, Thad couldn't help but be a tad overwhelmed. The ornamentation of the building reminded him just a bit too much of his past.

Approaching his destination, he saw two men in Harrington Steading green on green uniforms. Both gave him a measuring look. They must be two of her armsmen Thad thought. Armsmen were a personal security force and body guards for their Steadholder. Grayson law swore them to protect their Steadholder, even with their very lives. Being a former guard dog himself, Thad knew that these were particularly good ones. Activating the com, one of the armsmen spoke into the pickup.

"Captain Thaddeus Armstrong to see the Steadholder."

"Alright, send him in."

Entering into the large office of Steadholder Harrington with one of the armsmen in tow, Thad saw her nearly buried behind piles of data chips and old fashioned hardcopy. Upon hearing him come in she stood up and walked around her desk, her treecat jumping down from his perch behind her chair and scrambling up to her shoulder. The aura of command fairly dripped off of her. Thad braced to stiff attention, his arm nearly rising of its own volition to snap a salute. Although he showed no outward sign of it, Thad's stomach was doing summersaults. Honor returned his salute with equal precision, yet Thad could have sworn he saw a twinkle in her eyes, almost as if she could sense his emotional turmoil. Taz was staring intently at Honor, only the tip of his tail twitching. Thad was slightly concerned, as Taz had never given anyone such intense scruitny like this. Sending a mental image to cut it out, Thad dared to try his voice, silently praying he wouldn't make an as* of himself.

"Captain Thaddeus Armstrong reporting as ordered ma'am!" Nary a squeak, which was a good sign.

"Oh calm down Captain, I don't bite." Extending her hand she said, "Let me say again good job!"

Shaking her hand in return Thad felt his cheeks reddening. He quickly thanked her in reply.

"Allow me to make some introductions. The man beside you is my chief personal watchdog, Major Andrew LaFollet. And this little stinker", gesturing to the treecat on her shoulder, "is Nimitz." Shaking the pairs hands, Thad went into his own introduction.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance. My furry companion here is Taz." The cat extended his hand to Honor, her armsman, then jumped to the ground. Nimitz followed him there almost immediately. The pair flowed up to the room's perch like old buddies.

"Nimitz loves meeting other treecats. Unfortunately my duties have limited the contact he would normally have with others of his kind. Have a seat Captain." Honor's cool soprano requested as she sat back down in the large chair behind her desk. "Now, its my understanding that you have been given command of a pretty deadly warship. How is she shaping up?"

"Quite well ma'am. I am sure you are up to speed on the Warspite's specs. Suffice it to say, she has more than lived up to what the numbers say."

"I am glad to hear it. It is going to be up to you and your squadron to set up how best to employ the new systems. In typical fashion, the Graysons have embraced a unproven concept and run with it. While BuShips back in Manticore is still bickering as to weather a hollow core missile pod warship is a sound idea, Grayson has already built three prototype BC's. Add to that they already have the keels laid for four hollow core SD's. If that wasn't shocking enough, they incorporate an unproven weapons system into both."

"Don't misread me though, I made the recommendations to the powers that be that these systems be pushed into production. I just didn't think that they would be turned into working prototypes so fast. And your recent outing proves the new missiles viability quite obviously."

Not sure what to say, Thad merely nodded.

"Now as to the Masadan plot you stymied." Honor's brown eyes went ice cold, causing Thad to shiver inside despite the fact that it was directed at somebody else. Nimitz hissed from his perch, his expression just as deadly as his persons. "It was very good that you stopped that before it got any farther. Things could have become very messy if those weapons had made it to those lunatics hands."

Honor had good reason to hate the Masadan's. Not only had one of their attacks on Grayson killed her beloved mentor, Admiral Courvosier, the actions they took against captured Manticoran personnel, especially the women, after the engagement were horrifying to any civilized individual. Where Masadan's were concerned, Thad could not be in greater agreement.

"I hope that Planetary Security gives those bast**ds what they have coming." Then Thad colored when he realized what he had said. Seeing his reaction, Honor let him off the hook.

"Don't worry about offending me over Masadans zealots Captain. What ever they get is pure justice in my opinion." Giving herself a shake, Honor changed the subject to a different, yet more sensitive subject. "You may have already thought about it, but in stopping the shipment you have made some very powerful enemies. I can empathize more than most as to just how dangerous those sort can be." Thad couldn't help it, he stared open mouthed at Honor. "Don't be so surprised Captain. I have my sources, even in ONI. They didn't tell me the whole story, but the gave enough to cause concern. Watch your back, I would hate to loose such a evidently honorable and competent CO." Still slightly shocked, Thad began to realize you didn't become the second ranking officer in an entire navy and not become privy to information.

"Thank you for your concern My Lady. I'll keep my guard up."

That said, there is going to be a little party here tonight. Invitations have already gone out to your squadron, but I am going to take the opportunity to personally invite you and your command staff to attend."

"On behalf of my officers, how could I do anything other than accept? We'll be there ma'am."

"Good. I look forward to possibly conversing with you again Captain. Now, I must get back to the mountain of paperwork that has piled up in my absence. If I don't get to talk with you again before I leave the system, Good luck and good hunting!"

"The same to you ma'am. And thank you again for your support. Coming from you it means a great deal to me." Thad swore that he saw a slight rise in the color of Honor's cheeks at that, but he couldn't be certain. Her Nimitz bleeked laughter from his perch, Taz soon joining in.

"Laugh it up stinker, you'll get yours soon enough. You get kittensitting duty this afternoon, remember?"

"I don't mean to pry, but kittensitting?'

"Then I guess you haven't heard. Nimitz and Samantha decided to bring their four kittens to Grayson. They also brought along eight of Nimitz clanmates." Thad got a surprised expression stuck on his face despite himself. Then, after a few seconds the real implications of what Honor had just said hit home. The cats didn't just follow Nimitz here so he could be near his progeny. They had decided that it was time to set up the first treecat colony off of Sphinx.

"My God! I have only had Taz here for a few months, and I thought I was beginning to figure out just how smart he really was. But this changes things quite drastically."

"Yes it does, doesn’t it. I have a feeling that some accepted theories as to treecat intelligence are about to be turned on their ears."

"It would seem so ma'am, it would indeed. Might I look at these kittens before I leave? I have never seen a treekitten before."

"Certainly, my aid will show you to them. Now if you will excuse me, I unfortunately must get back to my paper work. It was good meeting you Captain."

CHAPTER 16 [Capital City of Nouveau Paris, Haven System, People's Republic of Haven]

Citizen Admiral Sarah Grant waited nervously outside the lions' den. She had no idea why the Committee of Public Safety, the current government of the PRH, wanted to meet her personally. Sarah had managed to almost convince herself that they didn't want her dead. If they had wanted that, a squad of State Security goons would have hauled her away. Instead, she had been 'requested' to meet with the Committee in person. That was almost as bad. One wrong word, one perceived slight or failing would quickly end her career, or have her disappeared.

She had managed to live through the purges that the Committee had initiated after it seized power from the Legislaturalists. The fact that she had been a Doleist probably was a large part of that. The Committee had used Doleist support in its coup. Under the Legislaturalists, the PRH had set up an untenable society. The Legislaturalists made a deal when they first came to power. Those that would become Doleists had given up any connections to political power to the Legislaturalists. In exchange, they were guaranteed a basic standard of living in perpetuity. The welfare state this arrangement created was the main cause of the People's Republic and the Star Kingdom of Manticore being at war with each other.

In order to fund the Doleist's Basic Living Stipend, the Legislaturalists had been forced to take over neighboring systems to get an influx of cash. Yet this only worked for so long. Every system taken only gave so much currency, then was bled dry. So the process had to be repeated again and again. Eventually the Republic ran up against Manticore, the only people in the sector that could give them a run for their money in a stand up fight. Yet Manticore was too much of a prize to pass over. Its wormhole junctions allowed it to have an economy that rivaled that of Old Earth herself.

So in an effort to keep increasing the BLS because of the mobs demands, the Legislaturalists had decided to conquer Manticore. The early stages of the war hadn't gone the way the military planers said it should though. They thought that their numerical superiority would enable them to take the SKM quickly. They were wrong. Manticore had fought hard and had won early victories. The quality of its navy personnel and equipment tipped the scales in Manticore's favor just enough. The unrest caused by the Republic defeats allowed the Committee to seize power in a coup.

The Committee of Public Safety then proceeded to remove any real, and a lot of perceived, opposition to its rule. The Legislaturalists had held a chokehold on appointment to the upper ranks of the military. They only appointed fellow Legislaturalists to flag ranks. Because of this, many of the PRH's best, most experienced officers were executed because they were considered politically unreliable by the new regime. Not only that, but the Committee executed many unsuccessful commanders, not letting them learn from their mistakes. It was not only the failed commanders that were targeted, their families were killed as well. Returning with your shield or upon it had become a very real life event in the Peoples Republic. While this instilled a great desire to succeed in naval personnel, it also had the exact opposite effect in generating loyalty to the new government.

While that had opened the way for many capable, non-Legislaturalist officers to advance to flag rank, it removed a huge portion of the navy's most skilled officers when they were needed the most. What had resulted, except for some infrequent PRH victories, was continued success by the Manticoran Navy. Those successes had very nearly leveled the playing field between the two powers. Although the PRH officer corps had started out lacking ability, they had gained a lot of experience as the war dragged on for years. Just how the war would finish was anyone's guess.

The purges had allowed Captain Grant to advance to Admiral in a mere two years. The main reason for her rapid advance was her political reliability, yet her skill played no small part in it. Some officers chose to keep their noses clean and stay completely out of anything political. It was easier to stay alive that way. Yet you couldn't advance very far being totally apolitical in the current Peoples' Navy. The Committee, and the Peoples Commissioners they placed on board ships to keep tabs on the navy, wanted Admirals that were filled with the 'proper revolutionary zeal'.

Sarah Grant had been forced to play the role of fervent revolutionary in order to advance. She didn't believe in the propaganda she spouted back to those desiring to hear it, yet it was the only means available for advancement. She told the Commissioners what they wanted to hear, and thus achieved rapid promotion. Her military record was exemplary, especially considering that her squadron had stopped two Manty thrusts cold.

Despite all this, fear gnawed in her belly. The people she was about to meet evidently wanted her for a reason, and she doubted she was going to like it. Not wanting to appear to nervous, she sat and waited, playing with the bottom of her green tunic. Her hazel eyes glanced at the chronometer mounted on the wall for what seemed like the thousandth time, then fell to the window. Through the wall of armoplast the giant spires that made up Nouveau Paris, capital city of the Republic, glittered in the rising sun. Even at this early hour, thousands of aircars already coursed around the massive buildings that grew like glass and metal trees out of the earth.

A chime sounded at the solitary desk that filled part of the room. The secretary glanced at his board, then motioned for Sarah to enter.

"The Committee is ready to see you now, Citizen Admiral."

Nodding, she tugged her tunic straight, then walked towards the double doors with a stride that showed nothing of how weak in the knees she felt. The burly guards in the red and black uniforms of State Security flanking the doors made no move, yet their eyes swiveled like pulser sights as she approached. Despite her nervousness, she almost laughed at their antics. As if she would dare try anything. She had been checked repeatedly for any kind of weapons even before she was allowed into the building. And she had no suicidal tendencies so a barehanded attack against the Committee was out. The heavy pulsers the SS guards carried were highly lethal, and the look in their eyes said they would not hesitate to use them.

Turning her mind back to the task at hand, she took a deep, calming breath, then opened the cage and stepped inside. There were only six people in the room beyond. Three were more SS guards, yet it was the remaining ones who were the most dangerous. Chairman Rob S. Pierre, leader of the Committee of Public Safety sat at the head of the table. To his right was the man who ran State Security, Oscar Saint-Just. To his left was Committeewoman Cordelia Ransom. She was in charge of the Office of Public Information, the propaganda arm of the government. Any of the three could have her killed on a whim, and no one would do a thing to stop them. No one was powerful enough to do that.

The table was simple gray marble, with a pitcher of water and some glasses on a tray to one side. The high backed leather chairs the Committee members sat in were of a plain design. The room was unexpectedly spartan for the main chamber of the ruling clique of the second largest empire in known space. Its only ornamentation was a large PRH flag spotlighted just behind Rob S. Pierre's chair. On further thought, Sarah found the spartan setting made sense. By the Committee's mindset, the normal trappings of power were elitist and must be avoided at all costs.

"Please have a seat Citizen Admiral." Pierre said. Sarah quickly flowed into the chair he had indicated. Looking at the three most powerful people in the entire Republic from across the table, she forced her face into a mask. "No doubt you are wondering just why we have summoned you here. Well I shall keep you in the dark no longer. We need you for a very important mission. It's outcome could very well decide weather we win the war or not. The Committee has reviewed your record and has decided that you are the best commander to send out on this mission."

Responding carefully, Sarah found her voice surprisingly calm. "I am honored that the Committee thinks so highly of me. I am but a servant of the people." Cordelia Ransom smiled like a crocodile.

"And a very good one at that. It is a pity that we haven't had an officer of your capability in some of our other systems." She said it like it was the officers' fault that they were inexperienced and poorly trained in relation to their Manticoran counterparts. Realizing that a non-response might not be beneficial to her health, Sarah shook her head.

"My success is due in no small part to my officers and the enlisted personnel under them. They deserve more credit for the victories we have achieved than I do."

"Your modesty dose you well, yet it doesn’t change the fact that you are one of the few military commanders that has had success against the corrupt and elitist enemies of the People. That has been far to rare a commodity in the People's Navy of late."

Due in no small part to your own paranoid actions Sarah thought to herself. If you weren't so concerned that the military was going to stage a coup against you, we might have already won the war. She forced a slight smile to her face and merely nodded at the committeewoman's remarks.

"Your success and the good word your Commissioner has given us about you are the main reasons you were selected for this mission." Rob said, steering the conversation back on track. Dimming the lights, he activated a holo projector and a map of the quadrant sprang to existence above the table. The bloated, irregular sphere of the PRH was highlighted in green. The systems controlled by the Manticoran Alliance were colored an angry crimson. Major systems captured by the Alliance were colored in yellow. There were to many of those for comfort. She had heard how bad the war was going, but she hadn't thought that it was quite this bad.

Thad made his way towards Harrington Steading's hospital. The more seriously injured of the marine boarders and their prisoners had been brought here once the Warspite had entered orbit. Shipboard facilities were first rate on the Warspite, but nothing could beat a dirtside hospital.

Entering the wing where the marines had been transferred, Thad noticed a concerned looking man in the green and black of the Manticoran Marines. Col. van Yurgen was pacing briskly back and forth in the waiting room. Looking up as he sensed Thad's approach, Linus turned to him and gave a ghost of a smile.

"I always hate waiting to find out how bad my people are. During a battle I can at least do something constructive. Letting someone else look after 'em is very hard for me to do."

"I know the feeling. Being unable to do anything more for them is tough to accept. All you can do is save as many as you can then let the doctors pick up the pieces of those you couldn't." Thad returned the concerned smile, one commander to another. He had seen more than his fair share of comrades at arms killed in the line of duty. Despite that, a part of his brain screamed at him for causing their deaths. Taz curled his tail around Thad's neck as his subliminal purr intensified. Forcing his thoughts away from that dark corner of his mind, Thad again thanked the stars for dropping the cat into his life.

Linus blew air through his lips explosively. "My brain knows that, but my heart sometimes insists I could have done something else." Pulling Thad towards him, he lowered his voice so only the two of them could hear it. "You did the right thing Captain, despite what anyone else says. Stopping those weapons was worth much more than the price we paid. You saved many lives on Masada because of your actions today. You are a good man, don't let anyone tell you different." Linus' free hand griped Thad's shoulder firmly. Pain was the most apparent emotion on his face, but Thad saw respect in his eyes as well.

The moment between them was broken when a doctor rounded the corner to the waiting room. Both officers straightened and three pairs of eyes sent questioning gazes to her. If the hospital's doctors had been upset at her insistence on looking after HER patients even after they left her sickbay, they had hidden it very well. Surgeon Commander Viola Romanoff looked bushed, but she still managed a tiny smile.

"Well, it looks like everyone is going to live. Corporal, no Sargent" remembering his post battle promotion a second to late, "Carter will need to be shipped out to Manticore ASAP so that he can get his missing feet replaced, but I expect that he will make a complete recovery. It was touch and go there for a while, and he lost an enormous amount of blood, but he is a tough one. Sargent Carter should be able to return to duty in about eight months. His wounds were by far the most serious of those injured. The rest can be treated here on Grayson and should make complete recoveries as well."

Grins sprouted on anxious faces as the Warspite's CMO announced the good news. "Well that’s a relief! Thank you very much Cmdr. Romanoff." Col. van Yurgen said. The doctor's hand disappeared from view as his meaty paws clasped around it. "Can I see them?"

"I suppose so, just keep it brief! They really need to rest."

"You have my word as an officer and a gentleman." Linus said in a very solemn voice. Then he disappeared around the corner to his people.

[Midas System, PRH, One Week Later]

Adm. Sarah Grant made her voice silent by sheer force of will. Inside though she was going through every curse and oath she had ever heard. Some of them were quite colorful. One didn't stay in the Navy for over 20 years and not pick up a rather large repertoire of them. She looked down at the list of ships assigned to her battle squadron again, hoping that it has somehow magically changed. The ship names remained, unwavering, unaffected by her seething emotions.

True, they were mostly new build units, and any commander should have been damned near ecstatic to get so many of them. But far to may names on that list weren't even Naval vessels at all. They were State Security ships, crewed and commanded by the SS personnel. Though it would have gotten her killed if anyone learned about it, Sarah still though that giving SS first pick of the newest units was utter stupidity. She wasn't naive enough not to see why they got them, she just thought that they would be of better use in Naval hands.

When you ruled with an iron fist, you needed the best tools to crush all opposition. Hence State Security got as many, or nearly so, of the new cruisers and battle cruisers as it wanted. Thanks to illegal Solarian League tech transfers to the PRH, these new designs came much closer to their Manticoran brethren than any that had come before them. Their ECM suites were generations more advanced than those they replaced, though still not up to Manty standards. Their missiles and penaids were also several orders of magnitude better than any previously carried by a PRH ship.

Finally her anger won a small victory. Sarah softly uttered one word, yet it dripped with the fury that boiled inside her. "F***!!!"

It wasn't that the ships themselves were bad combatants, despite the changes SS had made to the Navies original designs. No, it was the crews and officers that inhabited them. Many were in the SS because their warped minds thirsted for the terror and unspeakable acts that SS personnel were required to implement. Some had even had previous naval experience, but had been unable to rise above junior rank due to their distorted sense of right and wrong. Yet in the Office of State Security they had been able to let their dark desires flourish, heck they were probably even encouraged.

The admittance chime to her personal quarters aboard her flagship, the battleship PNS Lion, chirped. Forcing down her emotions, she answered the door. "Enter."

Her chief of staff, Commodore Vic Walker entered with Commissioner Gunther Foche and a man in the red and black of an SS commodore in tow. Vic's face held no expression, yet Sarah's practiced eye detected disgust mixed with a hint of anger behind the mask of his features. Sarah sincerely hoped that the SS officer and the commissioner wouldn't pick up on it. Walker was a good officer and it would be a shame to lose him.

"Citizen Admiral, allow me to present Citizen Commodore Charles Braganovich, the commander of the battle cruiser squadron that has been assigned to our order of battle." Vic said, his deep voice devoid of any emotion.

Charles Braganovich's mouth turned up in to a silky smooth smile. His dark brown eyes roamed up and down his new CO, taking in her curves. She was about 150 pounds and six feet tall. Her red hair was woven into a braid that ran down to her shoulder blades. It contrasted surprisingly well with her sea green eyes. What he would give to get a piece of tail like that…

Sarah shuddered inside as Charles' lecherous eyes roamed her body. Best to chop that off at the get go. "Citizen Commodore!" Sarah's voice was as cold as liquid helium. "I don't know how your last CO was, but while you are under my command you will show superior officers proper respect." She took particular relish at the double meaning of superior officers. Her tone had the desired response as Commodore Braganovich's spine went ramrod straight and he cast his eyes to a point just above her shoulder.

"Charles Braganovich, CO of the 56th SS Battle Cruiser Squadron, reporting for duty!" He snapped off a precise salute. Sarah let him hold it for five seconds before she returned it. Charles cursed himself for allowing her to get the better of him. He had grown used to ferrying naval personnel who had fallen from favor, not reporting to one who was his superior. The Admiral before him wasn't the cowed or terrified prisoner he usually dealt with. She had been hand picked for this mission by the Committee of Public Safety itself, which meant that she had every reason to feel secure. And if the mission succeeded, it would also give himself an excellent chance to rise still farther within the SS.

Gritting his teeth, Charles apologized for the first time in recent memory. "I'm sorry Citizen Admiral, it won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't!" Sarah paused to let the warning sink in, then continued. "Now, down to business, what is the status of your squadron?"

"Once we finish taking on reactor mass in about two hours, we will be fully combat ready."

"After you finish that, get your allotment of the new missile pods under tow. Then form up with the rest of the battle group. Your squadron is the last to arrive, so we are all waiting on you. We are running on a tight schedule, so I suggest that you hurry. You are dismissed Citizen Commodore!" With the SS battle cruisers, Sarah's force consisted of 10 battleships, 15 battle cruisers, 10 heavy cruisers, 8 light cruisers, and 20 destroyers. It was a very strong force. And with a supply of the Peoples Navy's first missile pods in tow behind them, Sarah felt confident that they had enough firepower to take their objective. It was supposedly poorly guarded, relying on secrecy instead of armaments for defense.

Saluting again, Commodore Braganovich turned smartly on his heel and stalked out of the room. As he left, he made a silent vow to himself that some way, some how, he would put a certain Admiral in her proper place. No one in over five years, since he had first joined the SS, had made him feel as small as she just had. She was untouchable now, but even the best commanders had been known to make a mistake now and then, and Charles would be there when she did.

Commissioner Foche approached his primary charge. "Are you sure that was wise? Pissing off State Security is not the best way to advance you know." Gunther Foche wasn't the worst sort. Her previous Commissioner had been a real pain in the posterior. He had known nothing of military operations, which was bad because the Peoples Commissioners needed to sign off on every military plan. Foche at least had served in the military, he even made it to captain before he left. Being a fellow Doleist, his career had stalled because he didn't have a Legislaturalist supporter. But that had been over 20 t-years ago, before the war with Manticore even started.

Once the Committee had started putting civilian watchdogs on every naval vessel, Gunther had joined in order to serve the Committee of Public Safety, which he saw as a step forward compared to the corrupt Legislaturalists. Yet in the years since becoming a Peoples Commissioner, Gunther had found that the Committee was in many ways just as corrupt and dangerous to the Republic as the Legislaturalists had been. The excesses of the Office of State Security were a case in point. Thus he had made a decision to protect his officers as much as possible. With a commander of as high a caliber as Sarah Grant, he would go to great lengths. The Republic needed officers like her now like never before.

Sarah turned to the wrinkled Commissioner with a wry smile. She had been surprised when she and the commissioner had become friends, or at least as close as a naval officer and her civilian watchdog were likely to come. "I know Gunther, but I just couldn't stand his insolence, his lack of respect. I admit it my temper got the better of me. But DAMN it felt good to put that ass in his place!"

[Flag Bridge, PNS Lion, Near the Hyper Limit]

Sarah gazed at her plot with mixed emotions. Part of her was cheering wildly as she saw the sloppy maneuvers and poor formation that the SS portion of her command was executing. Yet a larger part of her was terribly concerned over the same thing. Those poor ship-handling skills would be a dangerous handicap in a standup fight. Intelligence said that there should be no opposition, but it had failed miserably on several occasions.

"Mr. Zamphir," Sarah said to her staff com officer, "see to it that there is a extensive set of sims set up for the battle group." Showing him teeth at him through her smile, she continued. "It looks like SOME of us need a little practice on fleet maneuvers, and it's not like we won't have the time." Getting to the target via a round about route to avoid early detection was going to take nearly two whole months.

Grinning back he replied, "It certainly does, doesn't it Ma'a-Citizen Admiral." Cmdr. Ali Zamphir's tan face turned crimson as he nearly reverted to the old 'elitist' honorific. In the current Peoples Navy, only People's Commissioners were to be addressed as Sir or Ma'am. It was one of the Committees dumber plans, yet there was nothing Sarah could do about the order. Nothing except ignore it whenever possible. Her current staff had been together for over two standard years. They knew eachother well enough to trust and be open with eachother. They were also very good at their jobs. What had been Battleship Squadron 21 was almost up to Manticoran standards in the ship-handling department.

The People's Navy Battle Group 109 finally got all of its elements into proper position. "All units report ready Citizen Admiral." Cmdr. Zamphir reported.

CHAPTER 18 [Late Evening, Harrington Steading, Grayson]

*Authors note: These events take place around the same time as the Committee was giving Adm. Grant her orders.

Captain (SG) Thaddeus Armstrong hated to admit it, but even with the cursed necktie, his Grayson dress uniform looked good. He had even managed to do up the tie himself. Chief Gibbons had been surprised when she found just how little 'fixing' she had to do to make her charge presentable. Thad had always been fascinated by history, and the uniform's lines bore a much stronger resemblance, than a Manticoran one at any rate, to those used on Old Earth about two million t-years ago. Now the dress uniforms of the Andermani Empire were something else. Despite his interest in history, even Thad had to admit that those were a little over the top. They were based on ancient Prussian uniforms, and their tall stiff collars had to be even more uncomfortable than Thad's tie.

By the time Thad and his senior officers, arrived at the ball at Harrington Steading, the party was well underway. As he approached the party's main entrance, Thad noticed a larger than normal amount of guards in Harrington green on green. That was only to be expected, even at a party as formal as this, someone could still drink too much and get a little rowdy.

Under the guard's watchful eyes, the Warspite's officers walked up to the open doors and entered the gaily-lit room within. Taz stood up a little taller on Thad's shoulder, trying to see everything. This was the first time that he had ever been at any function like this, and Thad was more than a little concerned as to how it would affect him. Yet the cat seemed to be taking it all in stride. As much as he was new to formal balls, he seemed to be almost preening as he gazed about the room with his person.

"Look at him!" Jen said from Thad's right, "In typical treecat fashion, he is acting like all this pomp is for him alone." Taz bleeked in response, as if to say not even you can ruin this moment for me.

"Don't get to full of yourself mister!" Thad scolded his friend. Taz responded to him in almost the same way, but with his eyes sparkling, yet he did seem to settle down. "That's better. Now lets join the party, shall we?"

Thad, Jennifer, Julius, and Fillipe Escobar made their way towards the music and laughter. Someone had to mind the store, even while the Warspite was in parking orbit, and Xaiver St. Laurence had drawn the short straw. Of course the extra command experience would do him good in the long run, but oh how he had howled when he found out he wouldn't be going to Honor's party.

Entering the large room, the Warspite's party drew polite yet interested stares from quite a few of the guests. It took Thad a few minutes to realize that not many of them had seen a treecat other than Honor's Nimitz. Taz made him stand out from everyone else simply because he was there perched on his shoulder.

Shrugging their interest off, Thad lead the way towards the buffet table. The aroma of the superbly prepared food was mind blowing. Thad couldn't wait to try some of the dishes. As he made his way through the crowd though, he noticed he was getting penetrating, almost lewd stares from many of the women present. It was then that he remembered that female births on Grayson far outnumbered male births. In fact polygamy was the societal norm, with men legally having up to three wives each. This discrepancy in the balance of the sexes had caused Grayson women to be much more aggressive in finding a man than was the norm on most planets.

Thad, except for his scar, had a rugged handsomeness about him. Add to that the fact that he also had a gray and black treecat on his shoulder and Thad became a very hot commodity. Everything he had read but not fully understood the complications of came crashing back to his conscious mind. Thad very nearly turned and bolted right then and there. Seeing the sudden change in his expression, and having seen the looks his captain had been getting since he walked in, Julius put two and two together. Putting a steadying hand on Thad's shoulder, he whispered into his ear.

"Don’t worry sir, they aren't the Amazons your imagination is making them into." He went on with a mischievous whisper. "Not quite that bad anyway…"

Thad looked at him in terror, then relaxed and rolled his eyes when he realized he had been had. Taz bleeked laughter from Thad's shoulder, his face alight in pure glee. It was as if he had just given an atta boy to a fellow prankster on a job well done. Julius had just gotten his person in a way he couldn't, yet the little imp was cheering him on. Taz had tasted the women's emotions, and was somewhat surprised at his person's reaction to them. Then he saw the raw hurt sealed deep within Thad for the first time. So that was it, he had been hurt deeply by someone from his past. Thad's shock had finally allowed Taz to break through into the tightly sealed, damaged part of his heart. Taz knew that his adopted person loved him very much, but there had always been a part of him that was distant and locked away. That in and of itself was strange, because every other human Taz had encountered had not had the ability to hide a part of themselves from him.

He was positive that it was that power that had first drawn him to Thad. It gave his mind glow a bright and unique flavor. He had sensed a much more powerful version of the same thing in Nimitz's person. He had even been surprised when Nimitz had told him that he and his person could exchange thoughts in a two-way conversation. It was simplistic pictures granted, but something much closer to what his species experienced with eachother. Because of the similarity between Honor's and Thaddeus' mind glow, Taz hoped to one day have as unique and deep connection as Nimitz experienced. Of course when he learned just what had prompted it to come about, he wondered if it was truly worth the cost of getting it.

Taz decided then and there that he would help Thad when he was ready, but he wouldn't pry. Matters such as this were difficult for him to grasp as treecats lived largely in the here and now. They had a hard time accepting that humans dragged around so much useless emotional baggage. Still, Thad was his human, and Taz could only do as much as he could to ease his pain. Taz threw support and love into their link. Pressing his head into Thad's cheek, Taz started up his buzzing purr.

Thad could have sworn he had briefly felt another… something inside his head. The feelings he had gotten from it were warm and lively, but it was a very disconcerting experience. Despite that, he reached out to the presence. But just as he seemed to grasp it, it slipped away like grains of sand through a closed fist. Frowning in consternation, he turned to the furry bundle of love on his shoulder.

"Did you just do that?" Taz only purred louder in response.

"Do what sir?" Julius said

"I could have sworn… but it's gone now. It was the strangest thing- except in a good way."

"Sir?"

Thad sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "I guess it was nothing XO. Just my mind playing tricks on me. Don't worry, I won't let my overactive imagination make a fool of me in front of the ladies."

Grinning, Julius said, "You sir, a fool, never! Now unless I am mistaken, that looks like Adm. Cole and his staff over there at that table in the corner. Perhaps now would be a good time to make introductions?"

"An excellent suggestion. Just let me grab a cup of hot chocolate. The smell has been calling to me since I got here."

"You can smell that from here?" Julius asked incredulously. "I just caught a glance of the hot drinks table, and it's on the other side of the room."

"Err… that is I heard that Lady Harrington loves the stuff, so I assumed that it was here."

Julius was concerned that his captain was hiding something major from him, but he decided that the ballroom was neither the time nor the place to discuss it so he let it go. Nodding to Thad, he said, "Fine Sir, I'll just go over and chat with the Admiral untill you get your drink."

"I'll be over directly Exec." Thad said over his shoulder. That had been close, almost to close. Thad still wasn't ready to let his true origins out, even to his first officer. The man was very easy to get along with, and there were the beginnings of a very good friendship started between Thad and himself. Yet the line was still there, and Thad was still unable to bring himself to cross it.

Grabbing a mug from the waiter, Thad drank deeply of the hot, silky smooth liquid. His heightened metabolism required quite a bit more calories than a normal human. Many of his fellow officers envied his ability to consume foods yet miraculously manage not look like a sumo wrestler because of it.

On his way back to the Admirals table, Thad spied a tray of celery and couldn't resist. He grabbed one of the smaller pieces for Taz as he strode by. Although treecats cannot digest celery, they love the stuff. All the expert's Thad had met during his short time on Sphinx, plus the personal studying he had done on his own, still had no answer as to just why they had such an appetite for it.

Taz accepted the celery with relish, yet forced himself to wait until his person was seated before he ate it. It wouldn't due for him to drop the produce by accident. Not only would it be embarrassing, it might damage the celery.

Coming up to Bruce Cole's table Thad noticed its position with a practiced eye. It was placed so that it gave those seated around it got as much privacy as possible from the milling throngs of partygoers. It was placed in a corner and many of the tables around it were empty because of people dancing on the ballroom floor. Thad didn't get a chance to get a good look at the others seated at the table. That was because he had to devote his full attention to Admiral Cole. The Admiral stood up and extended a hand to him. Bruce was about Thad's height, yet had a slightly thicker build. His reddish blond hair was neatly styled, except for lock that hung down almost to his brown eyes. Thad took the hand out of sheer reflex, and Adm. Cole's returning grip was strong.

"Captain, you did a good job today. Such a good job in fact that I have want to use the Warspite as my flagship, and I want you for my flag captain."

Thad was thunder struck. "I don't mean to question your judgement sir, but surely one of the other captains is better qualified, and most certainly another has more seniority. I would hate to step on anyone's toes." He replied cautiously.

"Nonsense, it was the other captains that verified my initial decision. They all came to me after your first trial by fire and recommended that unless I had already picked someone else, that you would be a perfect choice. I concurred with their assessment of your abilities, so I am now formally offering the slot to you."

"Sir I am very junior for my rank." More than you know Thad thought. "I am not sure I am ready for the responsibility that being a fleet captain entails."

"Oh just say yes already Thud!" A deep voice emanated from one of the officers who had been seated with the admiral, deliberately mangling Thad's nickname. Thad knew that voice, and he felt his jaw drop as the face finally came up from the depths of his memory.

A tall man built like a rake stood and wrapped his arms around Thad. Taz had to drop to the floor to avoid being crushed. His annoyed bleek caused Captain (SG) Luke Killkreek to drop Thad back to the ground suddenly.

"Oh gosh, I didn't hurt him did I?" Genuine concern creeped into the deep baritone.

"Just his pride." Thad stared at the giant in front of him as he picked up Taz. "Is that really you Reek?" He said as the cat flowed back up to the perch on his shoulder.

"In the flesh! It's been to long man." Thad and Luke had been roommates and inseparable friends at Saganami Island, and had done their first midi cruse on the same ship. Luke taken a socially inept and timid Thaddeus Armstrong under his wing and been a good friend to him. Luke had originally though that Thad's outsider attitude had been an act. Yet when he had broken down the barriers and found out that Thad really was as clumsy socially as he appeared, he was shocked. How could someone who appeared as old as Thad be so out of place in a social setting. Thad seemed like a little kid in a group of adults whenever he and his classmates got together after school let out. Thad had graduated top of his class, with very high marks in both tactics and strategy. Get him in a military setting and his leadership ability shone through, as well as his skill. But in a group of his peers in a bar or club and he became as innocent as a newborn babe.

Admiral Cole broke in. "I'm sure there will be time for catching up later Captains, but I still need an answer."

"Of course sir. On second thought, I believe I will take you up on your request."

"Excellent. Now allow me to make introductions to the rest of the team. Starting from right to left, the good-looking woman is Lt. Cmdr. Eve Oberon, my chief of staff. Next is my ECM officer, Lt. Cmdr. Gill Cromwell. Then comes Lt. Tommy Schultz, my com officer. The remaining two are Captains Peter Trent and Natalia Hect, CO's of the Viper and Copernicus respectively. Captain Killkreek is CO of the Graf Spee."

Thad shook all their hands in turn. Once the Admiral had finished, Thad did his side. "As you all seem to know already, I am Captain Thaddeus Armstrong. My furry companion here is Taz." After a chorus of hellos Luke extended his hand to Taz in apology."

"Sorry about knocking you off little guy. Guess I got carried away. It's been years since I have seen Thad here, and I always have been a little clumsy."

Taz waited for a few seconds before he extended his right truehand, the left still clutching the celery stalk, in reply. He did it as if a bigger apology was his due, despite the fact that all that was bruised was his ego.

CHAPTER 19 [Harrington Steading, Grayson, Dusk]

Everyone around the table had a surprised look on their faces. The bombshell Admiral Cole had dropped was shocking to say the least. Thad could hardly believe it, yet from what Adm. Cole had said it must be true. But the orders he had just explained were confusing. TF 55 was to leave orbit one month from now and make its way to Looking Glass Station. But Thad, like most military personnel, had thought Looking Glass was just a myth. Supposedly it was a top-secret military installation used to develop exotic and powerful weapons systems. Yet despite years of tabloid stories and rumors, no conclusive proof had ever been found for its existence.

Till now that is. TF 55 was to proceed there to develop fleet tactics in relation to the new Ghost Rider systems. The Admiralty didn't want any spying eyes to see the capabilities of the new weapon systems before they were ready for deployment. Where better to test them than in a system that didn't exist.

"By the time we are ready to pull out, almost all of the other ships assigned to TF 55 should be finished or available. Our order of battle will include five Warspite Class BC (M) and 6 Star Knight Refit BCs as well as the usual escort of cruisers and tin cans by then." Admiral Cole said.

"That is a powerful force sir. One thing concerns me though. You said that there would be some special representatives from ONI coming along to provide the coordinates of Looking Glass. And that only they would know it and would wipe all reference to it from our computer banks after we leave. That worries me a bit. I fully understand that the base's location needs to remain secret, but this seems a little excessive. It's like they don't fully trust us." Thad replied with a mild frown playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I share some of your reservations Thaddeus, but those are our orders, direct from High Admiral Wesley Matthews and First Space Lord Admiral Sir Thomas Caparelli. The value of keeping the location of Looking Glass secret is of vital importance. And you know how insidious the Peeps intelligence net is. One slip of the tongue and the entire operation could be blown wide open."

"I agree sir, its just annoys me some that all. But I can clearly see the logic of it, so I'll live with my discomfort."

"Glad to hear it. Now… since that business is taken care of, I believe that we are at a party. Enjoy your free time while you can," Bruce Cole said with a twinkle in his eye, "because after tonight we got a sh*t load of work to do before we are fully operational."

A chorus of amused groans chorused from the assembled officers of what would become Task Force 55.

[Manticore System, Manticore, Later that same week]

The Director of Cerberus crushed the report with one hand, her knuckles turning white as her fist closed over the offending piece of paper. Part of her was trying desperately to abate the rage welling up inside her. The young aid that had brought it paled as he took in her anger. Knowing her temper, she might full well kill the messenger.

"Get out." The words were spoke quietly, barely above a whisper, yet they dripped with lethal venom. The aid nearly tripped over his own feet as he rushed out of the palatial office. The best laid plans, laid to waste by a mere Lieutenant Commander. Oh there were fallback operations, but they lacked the simplicity and elegance of Renegade. They were all complex, with many more steps, many more people to buy off, many more chances for leaks. And the enemy would now be more vigilant because he knew what was possible.

And she knew that it was all HER fault. Crystal Winter slammed her fist down onto her solidly built desk hard enough to cause everything on it to jump a full inch off the ebony surface. She had miscalculated that genetic monstrosity's ability to resist his programming. By all rights, he should have followed her directives just from the mere threat of being exposed for what he was. Somehow, he had been able to get around the nearly hardwired compulsion to keep his true self hidden from the universe.

In order to keep their little operation as quiet and as out of the limelight as possible, Manpower programmed a safe guard into all their products. Any mention to them that their secret was going to be made public made them do anything to prevent it. And if it was exposed, they minds became like a blank slate. Lurking like a computer virus in their minds, the program was ever vigilant. Upon public discovery of the subject true nature, it was designed to wipe all of the individuals programmed memories. It was a safe guard just incase they escaped Manpower control. They were unable to go public with their stories themselves because the same thing would happen to them.

Well if Mr. Thaddeus Armstrong had thought she was merely making idle chit chat when she said she could be his worst enemy, he was in for a rude awakening! Stabbing a finger down on the intercom stud, she spoke to her secretary.

"I want the following information leaked to EVERY major news service in the system…

Her secretary took the relevant information in silence, yet she was frowning. Miss Winter hadn't always been like this. When she was younger, and before she had inherited the seat on Cerberus' board of directors from her late father, she had actually been quite a pleasant individual. But the old adage had been proven horribly right in her case: Power corrupts, Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

[Grayson Orbit, GSN Warspite's Boat Bay Three, six days later]

Thad reached for the grab bar and swung himself into the tube connecting the pinnace to the rest of the ship. Taz dug his claws deeper into Thad's tunic so that he wouldn't become dislodged in the zero-g of the tube. He also purred, because he found the feeling of weightlessness wonderful. Thad smiled at his friend, then returned his eyes to the grab bar at the end of the tube. Even thought he had gotten used to swimming tubes with Taz's additional weight, it still required a lot of concentration to avoid any mishaps.

Grabbing the bar, Thad swung gracefully into the gravity field of the pinnace. Admiral Cole had requested his presence on Grayson. Apparently he was having difficulty in getting the supplies he needed pried out of the supply officers fingers. He wanted to have another officer present for support, and the fact that Thad was slightly famous was bound to help. The fact that Thad's exploits had been a major news item for the past two weeks had seen to it that nearly everyone on Grayson knew his face. They had fought long and hard against Masada, and anyone who prevented them from becoming a threat again was a hero in their eyes.

The Task Force had been coming together nicely. Though there were still a few rough edges to be sanded down, Thad was confident that they would be gone in a few days. Though all of the units were either new build ships or new to eachother, they had begun to execute maneuvers just as if they were a veteran squadron. Command had only been able to assign them lighter units for their escort screen in ones and twos. Only one squadron of destroyers had managed to be added virtually intact. They had been together since nearly the beginning of the war, and their familiarity with eachother had shown in the initial TF wargames. Yet nearly every other squadron had pulled together and were now nearly on par with them.

The pinnace settled onto its assigned pad. The capital of Grayson, Austin City, looked marvelous in the night. It was 10:00 PM local time, yet by shipboard time it was only 6:00 PM. Exiting the pinnace Thad searched for a few seconds then strode to the only waiting person on the pad. Admiral Cole's flag lieutenant, Ensign Leifler, approached him.

"If you'll follow me sir, I'll take you to where the Admiral is waiting."

[Three Hours Later, Pinnace landing pad]

Thad walked back to the waiting pinnace a happy man. Though he disliked using his newfound fame to get his way, Thad would do just that if it meant getting the spares and supplies out of unwilling supply officers. With only minor usage of Thad's accomplishments, Adm. Cole and Thad had managed to get nearly everything on Lt. Humphry's wish list. Thad had been amazed at the amount of things he had scrounged up on his own, yet he didn't have sufficient pull to get the other items. Although they weren't standardly carried as spares, it was good to have them along just in case.

Thad continued walking, then noticed quite a few people with microphones and cameras spilling around the corner in front of him. His eye's narrowed as he tried to figure out just what they were doing here.

Taz was curious as well. He reached out with his senses and recoiled at what he had felt. Far to many of those people had the same feeling that a hexapuma gets when it has its prey cornered. This wasn't good, wasn't good at all.

Thad was still trying to figure out the reason the newsies were there when Taz crouched lower on his shoulder, laid his ears back, bared his teeth and let out a hiss. Then the news people were around him.

"Mr. Armstrong, are the allegations true…"

"Are you a genetic creation of Manpower Incorporated…"

"Have you really killed people in cold blood…"

"Can you make a statement as to why you falsified documents about your identity…"

The demanding voices were emanating from all around him, the microphones and cameras a solid wall, crushing in on him. He felt like a caged animal. They knew. THEY KNEW!

Taz was preparing to issue his snarling war cry when he sensed a change come over his person. It was like his mind tried to turn on itself. Thad was fighting it, but he was slowly being pushed towards the precipice. Taz immediately leant his support to Thad's, yet it merely held the force at bay. Taz curled his tail protectively around his persons neck, redoubling his efforts. Still the force was there, dark and menacing, threatening to drive them both into the abyss.

Tapping reserves of strength he hadn't known he had possessed, Thad shoved his hands between the two reporters in the most direct path to the pinnace. Shoving them aside he bolted through the whole their departure made. The two reporters that had been shoved out of the way flew up into the air and landed over a meter away. The violence of their removal from Thad's path gave the remaining pack pause. It was just enough time for Thad to disappear into the pinnace.

"Sir, what's wrong…" asked a member of the concerned flight crew.

Thad cut her off with a panicked wail "GO, GO, GO!!!"

Seeing no way to reason with distraught man, and the fact that he was a superior officer, the pinnace lifted off and climbed for the stars. Its turbines howled, giving extra power to the contra grav accent. The pilot glanced over his shoulder into the passenger cabin. What he saw would stay with him forever. A crumpled heap of a man sat in the aisle seat, his face a mask of nonexpression, his body unmoving except for the rapid rise and fall of his ribcage. The man's eyes were cast straight ahead, and were not their usual animated selves. They were devoid of any sign of life. What was worse was the keening cry of the treecat in his lap. It was franticly pressing his head into his person's chin, demanding a response, yet the man's expression never changed and he never so much as twitched. The pilot exchanged a look with his copilot, then activated the ship to ship com.

CHAPTER 20 [PRH B.G. 109, Hyperspace]

The ships of Battle Group 109 cruised through the frozen thunderstorm of hyperspace. They were currently in the depths of a fairly powerful, yet little used grav wave. It's massive force was pulling them along at an apparent velocity of thousands of times the speed of light.

Hyperspace was crisscrossed by grav waves, streams similar to Earth's trade winds. Ships could enter and exit hyperspace without the presence of a grave wave, but travel in hyper without one limited the apparent velocity of a ship to merely a few hundred times the speed of light. But when a grave wave was entered, the ship could pull considerably more speed. And it could be harnessed to provide power for a ship while in one as well. These two facts where counterweighed by the fact that a minor miscalculation or alpha node damage could cause catastrophic failure of the ship's hull.

When entering a grav wave, the impeller wedge needed to be reconfigured from bands of stressed gravity above and below the ship to a pair of huge gravity sails fore and aft of the ship. These needed to be precisely aligned with the grav wave in order to allow safe passage into it from normal hyperspace. Although traveling in a grav wave was dangerous, its benefits for interstellar travel far outweighed the inherent risks involved.

Hence powerful grav waves were often heavily used by both military and civilian ships. The one Citizen Admiral Sarah Grant's ships were in started in what was deep space and ended in deep space. It passed near no inhabited systems and was not used by anyone, as it was usually faster to just take a less direct route. Yet that very lack of use was exactly why BG 109 was in the wave. Since operational secrecy was paramount to its success, Sarah was forced to use an indirect approach to her target. It added a full month of flight time to the mission. Despite the fact that they would take longer to get to the target, their risk of detection actually decreased because they were using waves and areas of hyperspace that were well away from those usually traveled.

PNS Lion's bridge was under the dimmed lighting. Her third officer, Citizen Lt. Cmdr. Wendy Heisenberg, sat in the command chair. The pale bluish-white cast by the repeater displays formed a pool of light around the ship's throne. Although she was on the graveyard shift, she took pains to do everything by the book. Despite the way it strained the relationship between her and her fellow watch officers, protocol had to be enforced for a very good reason. She knew that even though it was 'night' aboard the ship, something unexpected could pop up and it would be her responsibility to deal with it until the captain and the admiral could be roused from their slumber. Plus the Peoples Commissioner, it wouldn't do for her to fail to notify him during an emergency either. The fact that she was effectively in command of the battle group till they returned to the bridge was an extra incentive for wariness.

Wendy settled more comfortably into plush safety of the acceleration couch. She longed for the day when she would have one of her own. If this mission went the way it was supposed to, she was virtually guaranteed a command slot. Wendy had just gotten comfortable when the tactical board beeped. The tac officer frowned, then punched in commands to his console. Wendy strode to the station and placed a hand on the young officer's shoulder.

"What's up Citizen Lt.?"

"I'm not exactly sure Citizen Lt. Cmdr. It may only be a sensor glitch, but the destroyer PNS Redguard has picked up a faint return on her passive array." Then the console beeped again as three more contacts appeared. All four were still the amber of unknowns, but they couldn't all be sensor ghosts. Wendy's stomach did a flip-flop. Those contacts could only be ships, and even though they had no right to be in this part of space, their amber beads still glowed back at her from the holo tank, drawing ever closer to the battle group. And it was her job to do something about it.

"Com," she said in a surprisingly even voice, "flash message to the battle group. Sound General Quarters and go to stealth mode immediately."

"On the chip and being sent right now Citizen Lt. Cmdr." Even as he spoke, alarms began to wail across the Lion's massive bulk The lighting across the ship was brought up to full standard and crewmembers jumped from their bunks to man their stations.

"Now get me the Captain, the Admiral and Commissioner Foche." The com officer punched a series of commands into his terminal in rapid succession. When he pointed to her, she spoke into the pickup. "I have four…" glancing at the holo tank again, "make that six contacts coming towards us on almost a direct reciprocal of our current heading. I have ordered the battle group to engage GQ and go to stealth mode. It may buy us some time if they haven't picked us up already. But on the speed and course they are on now, it will be about 15 minutes before they have to see us."

Sarah Grant's voice was the first to reply. "You did exactly what you should have. I should be on the bridge in about three minutes."

[Citizen Admiral Grant's personal quarters]

The piercing wail of the GQ alarm had brought Sarah almost instantly awake. After so many years in uniform she had become a very light sleeper. Pivoting out from under the covers, she shoved her feet into the pair of pants laid out on the small desk near her bed. She was almost fully dressed by the time Third Officer Heisenberg commed her room.

After closing the channel, she finished dressing then bolted out of her room to the lift. Fortunately, the battleship's designers had planned for just such an eventuality. There was a lift that ran direct to the Flag Bridge just down the hall from her quarters. The rest of her staff was berthed on the same level, and as she left her room she noticed nearly all of them were leaving their rooms as well. Her chief of staff had even managed to beat her to the lift.

As the doors began to close, an arm was shoved in-between them. Sarah's eyes flowed from the chocolate brown hand to the face of her com officer, Citizen Lt. Jake Bellows. He was a vital cog in the living mechanism that was Battle Group 109's command structure. With out him, or another officer to fill his shoes, precious attention would have to be diverted from fighting the battle in order to send out the flag's commands. The doors reopened to admit him, but they didn't notice an important fact. The lift was already jammed full.

"You go instead of me." Commissioner Foche said as he exited the lift. "I'll get the next one. I'm just dead weight during a battle anyway." Jake made as if to protest that he should go first, as he was the senior officer. But Gunther Foche would have none of it and physically shoved him into the lift and pressed the activation button. As the doors closed, Sarah gave him a quick thankful smile.

Some Commissioners would have demanded they go in the first lift, even though once they had signed off on a plan they had virtually nothing to do. Fortunately for Sarah and her staff, Gunther was a decent sort. He was perfectly willing to wait if it meant that her entire team was on the Flag Bridge planning and executing maneuvers that would guarantee the battle group's safety.

The lift opened to the Flag Bridge, and junior officers left their stations to make way for the senior command staff. Sarah settled into her chair, displays and control consoles dropping down from above and rising up from the floor. She swiveled the seat until she had an excellent view of the flag bridge's massive holo tank.

The six amber beads floated in standard transit formation. Even as she watched, they turned the angry crimson of hostile warships. Of all the rotten luck Sarah thought. Virtually the only thing it could be was a Manty patrol sent to uncover the exact thing she was hoping to accomplish. If even one of those ships got away, it could blow the lid off of the entire operation. Looking down at her plot, she saw that CIC was tentatively IDing them as destroyers. That was both bad and good.

If they closed enough to enter weapons range they would be handily vaporized by the considerable firepower her wall of battle had. But the very fact that they were light units meant that they could pull a higher acceleration than a large portion of her wall. And the fact that they most likely mounted that dammed new internal compensator meant that they probably out run anything she had. But fortune had decided to smile on her just a little bit. The fact that the Manties and her ships were on a virtual collision course gave her an edge. If the enemy didn't see her ships until it was to late for them to scatter and evade her units, she could still continue the mission.

"Assuming that accelerations remain constant, how long till the Manties see us and how long till they can't escape even if they scatter?"

"It's now 10 minutes till even merchant sensors could pick us up. Say six, seven minutes tops for the Manties. If they don't scatter before five and a half minutes, they will have no choice but to enter our energy envelope Citizen Admiral." No wedge could be brought up in the savage force of a grav wave. She would have to close to energy range because any impeller wedge, even one as small as a missile's, would cause a nearly instantaneous and catastrophic failure of its drive. Hence all combat in a grav wave had to be done with energy weapons.

"And if we increase speed to max?" The lift doors opened and Commissioner Foche strode onto the Flag Bridge. Sarah acknowledged him with a small nod.

"They see us even sooner and are able to get at least one ship off clean because they can pull a higher accel."

"Remain steady on speed then, but come right point six degrees. That will put us in optimal firing position when the time comes."

"Aye Citizen Admiral."

Now the waiting game began. Only half a minute separated success and failure. Hyperspace combat was always deadly. The fact that no impeller wedge's could function removed the impenetrable roof and belly bands used by a warship for defense. And since the sidewalls that went with them were inoperable in a grav wave as well, they were gone to. That left the massive sails fore and aft. They were impenetrable as well, but they only shielded the ship fore and aft. Everything else was up to armor alone. Battleships mounted considerably more armor than mere destroyers, but without their powerful sidewalls to go with them, a lucky hit could hurt.

Yet Sarah was confident that if the Manties would cross the point of no return, they would die. Simple math dictated nothing less as the numbers were considerably in BG 109's favor. A part of her knew that the slaughter she was about to unleash would haunt her. But she pushed those feelings back into a tiny room in her head filled with the rest of her self-loathing. As much as she hated killing, she would do what needed to be done to ensure that her people survived and that the mission was executed.

The seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness, each one seeming to last an eternity. Then a snarl emanated from nearly everyone onboard. The Manties had crossed the invisible line that sealed their fate. There would be no escape for them. Still the Manticoran destroyers came, still oblivious to the death lying in wait in front of them.

Then, five and three quarter minutes out the entire enemy squadron abruptly split up into a starburst. Some turned end for end in a doomed attempt to run away. Others veered ninety degrees off of their original course to try and break contact. One did nothing at all except pile on more accell. Even with the Manties more efficient internal compensator, he must have stripped his safety margin to nil. He was doing the smartest thing he could, the thing Sarah would have tried in his situation. By increasing the closure rate to max, he limited the engagement window she would have. Not that it would matter in the end. Battleship energy weapons were just to powerful for an unshielded tin can to withstand.

"Com, assign targeting priority for sub group one through six as follows…" This way, each ship would have a chunk of Sarah's wall firing on it.

"Aye, aye Citizen Admiral."

As the range finally dropped to Sarah's energy weapon envelope she issued a single command. "All ships, OPEN FIRE!!!"

From every ship in the battle group silent, invisible death flickered from the broadside energy mounts. Grasers and lasers turned hyperspace into a seething ball of energy. The distance was so short, and being that energy mounts are light speed weapons, it was all over quite quickly. In mere seconds, what had been six enemy destroyers and their crews was turned into expanding balls of white hot plasma as their fusion bottles let go.

All except for one. The single contact that had executed a headlong charge of her wall of battle punched through a gap and streaked out the other side. It was streaming air and debris, but its Warshawski sails were still operating perfectly. And it was now shooting away from her warships at an incredible velocity. In less than 20 seconds it would be outside energy range and beyond any chance of her being able to attack it.

"Orders from the flag. Target remaining enemy immediately!"

All activity on the Flag Bridge slammed abruptly to a halt. Sarah continued to stare at her tactical officer. His Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to swallow, but his mouth had ran dry. Breaking eye contact briefly in order to glance at his console he looked back up at Sarah's still fiery visage. "Destruction of bogie five was tasked to the Integrity, the Ulysses, and escort squadron 109.03 Citizen Admiral." His voice rising to a squeak at the end.

Seeing the effect her anger was having on her people and Gunther's cautioning hand on her shoulder, Sarah made a conscious and visible effort to bring her raging emotions under control. "Orders from the flag, to all units: sound off damage reports to the flagship ASAP." She turned to everyone present in turn as she spoke her next sentence. "Rest assured, I will get to the bottom of this. And those responsible are gonna wish they were never born." With her voice leached of all emotion, it was almost worse than her anger.

[Two Hours Later, Flag Bridge, PNS Lion, Deep Space]

Well that was somewhat of a relief. It was no fault of her people that the Manticoran destroyer had nearly slipped away. Those she considered her people anyway. Tactical had assigned the targets correctly, and Mr. Bellows had issued the correct orders, despite his initial worries to the contrary. He had shown unusual courage to come forward with his concern, but it had proven unfounded, just as Sarah had known it would. Her people were just too good to screw up by the numbers like that. The same had proven when the sensor records of the battle were reviewed. The battleships Integrity and Ulysses had fired on the Manty. Escort squadron 109.03 had not however.

Apparently, someone on the destroyer squadron's flagship had transmitted faulty targeting orders to the rest of the squadron. Hence they had fired on a destroyer already targeted by two battleships and a full cruiser squadron. And in the back of Sarah's mind, a voice shouted told ya so. It was the same voice that had told her to refuse State Security's offer of giving her a extra squadron of destroyers for her important mission.

Sarah was really going to enjoy tearing a strip off of that sorry excuse of a Commodore, Charles Braganovich. She rubbed a pair of mental hands together gleefully at the thought of seeing him squirm, but her face remained impassive as she scrolled through the after action report. BG 109 had gotten of pretty easily in the damage department. Only one of the escort destroyers had been hit hard enough to be considered combat ineffective, but it could be repaired. Three other destroyers, as well as a single cruiser, had minor damage, which was nearly repaired already. None of her battleships had been even hit, the Manties instead concentrating fire on smaller fry which they had a realistic chance of hurting. Even without their sidewalls, battleships mounted a heck of a lot of armor. PRH design philosophy stated that they were capital ships and made them to lie in the murderous fury of a wall of battle. Not that something as small as a battleship could realistically go into a major fleet engagement between capital ships and expect to survive.

Tough as a battleship was, it still was no match for a Manticoran, or even a PRH dreadnought. And heaven help them if they came across a super dreadnought. Unfortunately, the powers that be had not bothered to consult her when they wrote up the doctrine for battleships. But even though they had no real place in a modern wall of battle, the made for some kick a$$ raiders. They could outrun anything that could hurt them, and had the weight of fire to kill anything smaller than they were. Unfortunately, those same characteristics applied perfectly to another, virtually opposite, mission. Battleships were all to often tasked with suppressing dissident elements of the Peoples Republic. And that was the reason that they were so prevalent in the PRH while virtually nonexistent in the SKM. The gorged, lumpy sphere that was the PRH needed a lot of ships to ride herd on its conquered populations.

She turned to her operations officer. "How long till the Peoples Valor is ready to return to hyper?"

Citizen Lt. Ingrid Haffner's face scrunched up like it had tasted something sour. "I'm sorry Citizen Admiral, but their alpha node damage is slightly worse than they initially thought. Its gonna require complete replacement of two of them. Luckily one of the fleet train has a few in stock, as well as the maintenance techs to help with their removal and installation. Their best estimate is that it will be ten days before they are ready to go."

"Tell them they have six and not a second more." Then she turned to Citizen Lt. Bellows. "Tell Commodore Braganovich that he is to report to the flagship with his senior officers immediately."

[Sickbay, GSN Warspite, Grayson Orbit, That Same Time]

Both individuals lying on the examination table looked like death warmed over. Thad's skin had taken a distinctly unhealthy gray pallor, and it was clammy from the constant stream of sweat fleeing his tortured body through his pores. There were purple/black bags under his sunken eyes, and those eyes which were normally so lively held none of their customary spark. A bystander might have mistaken him for dead but for the steady beep from the monitoring equipment.

The sorry looking treecat sprawled on his abdomen barely stirred as the Warspite's CMO entered the white walled room. Taz wasn't in much better shape than his adopted human was. He hadn't eaten at all in the three days since Thad had gone catatonic. In fact, he had never been out of physical contact with his person since Thad's pinnace had docked in Boat Bay One. When one of Viola Romanoff's staff had tried to remove him, the cat had snarled and bared his needle sharp predator's teeth at him. Since the tests could be done around Taz, and because no one wanted to aggravate the distressed cat further, he had remained draped over Thad ever since.

When Viola had heard the cause of Thad's condition, she had not wanted to believe it to begin with. But then her tests started uncovering more and more peculiarities and things that just shouldn't be with her patient. For starters, but not that unusual in known genetic modifications, were his increased intelligence and more efficient musculature. From then on, things got more and more strange.

Although Thad's eyes appeared normal, and the left one actually was for the most part, his right eye could see into the infrared spectrum much like a crocodile. It could also see just as well at night as it could in day. It had binocular functions similar to a bird of prey's. And at the base of each optic nerve, there was a small machine. It was essentially a heads up display projected directly into the optic nerve over the rest of the visual input. And this heads up display also had limited x-ray ability. Thad's hearing and sense of smell were far beyond any normal humans. His bone structure was especially dense and strong, and the organs they held were considerably more efficient than was the norm. His immune system was also turbo charged, and his white blood cells had killed every virus and bacteria she had thrown at em.

Upon finding the cybernetic implants behind Thad's eye's, Viola had followed the connections back to a small master implant inside Thad's brain. From there she had followed other leads to the enhanced auditory pickups in his ears and to powerful sensors in his nasal passages.

When the true extent of Thaddeus Armstrong's genetic and cybernetic modification became clear, Viola found herself questioning weather the stories the newsies had been circulating could be true. They said that he had killed many times in the past. They said he was a psychotic killer who could strike with the least provocation. That he was a time bomb waiting to explode.

Yet almost as quickly as the doubts had surfaced, they left. She felt that she had gotten to know Thad as a person quite well since he had assumed command. Viola considered herself a good judge of character, and her gut was telling her that Captain Armstrong was a decent, kind, quiet man. Now if only she could figure out just what was going on so she could do something to help him. Her scanners told her that there was still considerable brain activity, especially in the areas usually associated with memory. Those same scanners also told her that that brain activity was also odd. Normally, the scans showed just a general area highlighted when it was in use. Thad's brain on the other hand showed much more clearly defined boundaries, especially in his memory centers.

It seemed as is there was a tug of war going on inside his head, like part of him was fighting another part. And all of Surgeon Commander Viola Romanoff's eighty six years as a physician told her absolutely nothing as to how to help her patient. And being that she was currently the senior physician in the Yeltsin system there was no one else to turn to for guidance. A specialist had been called from Manticore, but he wasn't due to arrive for another six days.

She looked down at the sleeping Lt. Cmdr sitting next to his bed. Jennifer Yuki had been sitting with Thad every free moment she had since he had returned to the Warspite.

[The Mind of Thaddeus Armstrong, Captain (Senior Grade), Grayson Space Navy]

Thad was on a narrow path, sheer drops on both sides and darkness all around. There was no light, yet both him and the path were highlighted in a reddish/orange light. He was clad in the spotless uniform of a captain in the Grayson Navy. As he walked down the path, a series of branches at right angles to the path appeared in the distance. He walked further, and was soon up to the first set of branches. After a short distance, both terminated in a plain door suspended in space. The other branches ended similarly, and the path branched until it disappeared into the distance. Thad turned and approached the door to his right.

He grabbed the knob and turned it. The world went white, then faded in to the slightly blurry effect used to denote memory scenes. Part of Thad acknowledged that that was probably due to the thousands of classic cinema shows he had watched. In fact this entire place was probably the construct of his subconscious in an effort to make some kind of sense out of what was happening to him. The scene before him was from when he was a small boy. He and his parents were having a picnic in the park. Even as he watched the happy day, he heard a whispering voice coming from all around him.

In a voice very much like his own it said, "This is all a lie you know. None of it ever happened. It was all just made up by some tech at Manpower Incorporated so you would act like a normal human, not the high-tech mannequin you really are."

"Shut up, get out of my head! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Thad screamed at the disembodied voice. As he did so, the memory faded and he found himself again on the path.

"Ah," the voice said, "if only it were that easy. But you see these memories aren't really yours. They are the property of Manpower, just like you are. And since you did a very bad thing, Manpower has decided your services are no longer required. That’s why I'm here."

"Don't you think I know these memories never happened?" Thad pleaded. "That doesn’t matter, they are MINE! I choose to keep them, and there's not a damned you can do about it! I control my own destiny, not YOU, and certainly not FUC%!NG MANPOWER INC!"

The path started to quake, nearly throwing Thad off and into the abyss. The voice boomed so loud that it brought Thad to his knees from the shock and pain. "YOU THINK SO LITTLE MAN!? YOU DON'T HAVE EVEN THE FAINTEST CLUE AS TO JUST HOW POWERFUL I AM! I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU, WHERE EVERYTHING YOU ABHOR ABOUT YOURSELF IS BURIED. I KNOW EXACTLY HOW TO BREAK YOU!"

The path widened as rock shot up along the sides. After a few seconds the narrow walkway had widened to the size of a small arena. It was like one that would be in a dungeon, with rock walls hidden in shadow and lit by elaborate candle chandeliers. Then people started to appear. More and more came, walking in from all four sides towards Thad, who was standing in the middle of the arena.

The voice continued, "Look at all those you have failed. Look at all those you have KILLED! You were their commander, you were supposed to protect them. Yet unsurprisingly, you failed them. They were killed because of you, o holier than thou Thaddeus Armstrong!" By now the people, if what remained of some of them could be called that, were pressing up against Thad, crushing in from all around. Their wails of terror and pain alone were almost to much to bear.

Thad felt his conviction falter, felt all the pain their loss had caused him welling up, threatening to explode. The air around him grew thick with an eager anticipation. The voice was waiting for him to break down, biding its time till it was in an optimal position to strike. And despite himself, Thad knew that he was done for. The voice really did know how to break him. It had done the only thing that could unbalance him. Thad took the losses among his people, and to a lesser extent the enemies, personally. Although he didn't allow it to affect his public life, there were nights when it all caught up with him. Nights when the faces of the dead cornered him. And there were so, SO MANY! So many souls he had been forced to sacrifice, so many people he had lost. So many people he had killed, either directly or indirectly.

The fact that he felt remorse and regret at all was an error on Manpower's part. They had designed him to be incapable of them in regard to killing. But fortunately for Thad, they had failed. Yet that same beneficial error was now being used against him. The voice had found his Achilles Heel.

Thad felt his defenses crumbling, and was almost to lost in sorrow to care. "Yessssss!" the voice said in a quiet, soothing voice. "Just let go, and I can make the pain go away forever. Think of it, you will never again be bothered by all these ghosts. Just let go and it all stops…"

And Thad was all too willing to do just that. The promises the voice was making sounded so good! What would be the harm to just give in and bring an end to his pain?

Suddenly there was another presence in his mind. One at once familiar and alien at the same time. It came to his side and manifested itself as a column of light. The bodies that had been pressing against him fled away into the shadows and the arena became still once again. The presence seemed to reach out, grab his shoulders and give him a few shakes. Thad could feel the unconditional love and support flowing into him, rebuilding his ragged defenses, giving him strength when he thought he had none left.

"You again!" the voice raged. "When will you learn to mind your own business." An indistinct figure began to form along one shadow shrouded wall. It spoke in a ragged approximation of Thad's own. "So subtlety won't work eh, guess I'm left with good old fashioned brute force." The figure strode into the lighted area in the center of the arena and sneered at Thad.

Thad's eyes narrowed as he stared at the figure. It resembled him, but wasn't all that human. Instead of a regular jaw and teeth, it had an extended jaw filled with pointed canines. It's body was covered in coarse hair and its limbs ended in razor sharp claws. It held a large knife in either hand. With a flick of its wrist, one flew through the air to land at Thad's feet. "Pick it up!" the beast ordered.

The alien presence retreated to the border of the arena. Thad knew that this was not because it was giving up on him, but because this was something he was going to have to do for himself. It would still be there to offer its support and love, but it could not actively interfere.

Crouching to pick up the blade, Thad gripped the leather wrapped handle. Turning the knife blade up, he saw that it had been honed to a razor sharp edge. The blade flashed in the diffuse light that filled the center of the arena. Turning back to his opponent, he extended the knife towards him and bowed. Then he was flying backwards through the air, gasping for breath. Pillars sprang up from the floor. One just happened to come up behind him. He smacked into it and fell to the floor.

"Honor is for sissies and losers! Terribly surprising that you have it isn't it." The beast said with a curl of contempt playing at its lips. Thad struggled to his feet. The beast waited till he was almost fully up, then charged towards him so fast it was a brown blur. It's hand/paw exploded into his belly while his left leg streaked down and around to sweep him. Thad landed on his back, the force of the impact making him lose his grip on his knife. It skittered away from him far out of reach. The beast straddled Thad, taking its time now that it had Thad defenseless. It slowly began to bring the blade of the knife down to Thad's ribcage and the beating heart that lied beneath. Thad grabbed the beast's hands in a vain effort to try and stop the blade from falling. The beast merely laughed at his efforts. Still moving the knife with a steady pressure, the beast stopped when it touched Thad's uniform. Holding the knife perfectly still, the creature leaned close to Thad's ear and whispered to him.

"I told you that I could break you. The easy way or the hard way, you're still Manpower's property in the end."

Something snapped inside Thad. As the beast prepared for the final thrust that would end it all, it uttered a shocked gasp. Thaddeus forced the blade slowly away from his chest. As it gained height, the blade began to twist it around towards it owner. The beast fought for all it was worth to force the blade down, but Thad never gave an inch. The beast's wide eyes grew even wider as the cold steel of the blade pierced into his flesh. Forcing the blade sideways, Thad felt the beast's warm blood flood over him. Its heart was cut in half, and blood seeped out of the wound in a steady stream.

Thad pushed the now lifeless body off of him. As he stood the dungeon arena was blown away like so many grains of sand. It was replaced by a colorful mountain meadow. The bright yellow sun was high over head and there was nary a cloud in the sky. The craggy, snowcapped peaks surrounded the lush valley. Staring down at the body Thad said, "I, and I alone, control my destiny!" As he spoke the words, the body turned to sand and blew away just like the dungeon did.

[Sickbay, GSN Warspite, Grayson Orbit]

Viola ran to the examination room after she heard a surprised cry. She stopped at the doorway, jaw dangling almost to her ankles. Taz was sitting up on Thad's chest, staring intently at his now healthy pink face. His buzzing purr was literally shaking the tray of instruments nearby. Jennifer was smiling so hard she was dangerously close to splitting her face. Thad's eyes fluttered open, and he looked around, eyes settling on Taz, Jennifer, and Viola in turn.

Viola frowned sternly at her irritated patient. "I don't care how healthy you feel Sir, you aren't leaving this room until I am satisfied you are as well as you say. You have been through a very traumatic event, and there may be complications that are not immediately apparent." When she noticed he was about to start up again, she snapped in a voice that left no room for compromise, "SIT DOWN!"

Thad closed his mouth with an audible click and sank back down to the examination bed. Taz bleek of laughter at Thad from beside him on the bed was a welcome change from the distressed keening or stony silence that had possessed him while his person was unconscious. "Some help you are, taking her side in this!" Thad shot back at his companion. Although he couldn't speak any, Taz understood much more Standard English than many gave him credit for. When he had heard the reasoning behind Viola's insistence that Thad stay in sickbay for more tests, he had been as unrelenting as she that Thad remain. Thad took a deep, cleansing breath.

"Look, I have been out of the loop for three whole days. Lord knows what has happened to the Battle Group during that time. I need to get back as soon as possible, there is just to much to do before we have to go out system."

"And as I said before, the sooner you let me get started, the sooner you can leave. Your bi*ching about it is only going to make your stay just that much longer." There was a few seconds when she thought that he would continue to demand his release, but then Thad sighed and settled into a more comfortable position on the bed with a resigned nod.

[Rear Admiral Bruce Cole's Quarters, GSN Warspite, Two Hours Later]

Thad stood before Admiral Cole ramrod straight in a spotless uniform. It had taken another hour before Viola was satisfied enough to let him leave sickbay. The glow of having pulled through his ordeal had worn off by then, and the walk back to his quarters to clean up had been one of the longest in his life. Thad hadn't considered the consequences of his pasts revelation would have on his crew. He had been curious at first to gauge their reactions, so he had activated his enhanced hearing to discreetly hear what might be said behind his back. As the old saying goes, curiosity killed the cat.

Although they were as respectful as the regs required to his face, he couldn't help but over hear their comments when they thought he was out of earshot. Many of the comments were truly hurtful. And that was the reason that Admiral Cole had asked for him to report to his office. Thad was going to be relieved. He was sure of it.

"At ease Captain." Thad changed from attention to parade ground rest, his face a stone mask, showing none of his building tension. The only sign of it was the twitching end of his treecats tail. "I need to know why you lied on your entrance papers to the academy and to the Star Kingdom itself. Why did you think you needed to hide it? There is no discrimination for genetically modified people under the Star Kingdom's law."

"Sir, it's not that I wouldn't say, it's that I could not. What happened to me was a direct result of the programming Manpower put in as a failsafe in case I ever escaped their control. If I ever tried to explain my true past, or had it come out some other way, all of their programming in my head would be wiped out. I am still not sure how I managed to circumvent their directives. God knows there were countless times I wanted to tell someone, anyone about my secret, but I COULD NOT DO IT!"

Admiral Cole stared at his pained expression intently, then leaned back in his chair and nodded. "I believe you Captain. Now for my second question. Given room for exaggeration, did you do those things the holovids and news services have accused you of?"

Thad's response was to look down at the floor in shame and utter a quick, one-word response. "Yes."

Thad had had a few minutes to look over the stories the news feeds were showing about him and his past. Although many of them were outright lies, quite a few of them were very close to the truth. And the truth in this case was not very pretty. If he had been a celebrity before, he was now known across the entire Alliance at least. And not for the things people could be proud to be known for.

"I am glad you were so candid. If you had said anything else, I would have known you were lying. ONI has given me a report on their investigation into the wild stories surfacing about you. There is a lot of corroborating evidence to many of them. That said, many of them were done to very bad people who were trying to do horrible things to you. Under the circumstances I feel that you were justified in the actions you took." Then a smile played across Admiral Cole's face. "And fortunately for you the Star Kingdom's Admiralty, High Admiral Matthews, and even Benjamin IX and Queen Elizabeth themselves agree with me."

Thad's eyes went wide. If both Queen Elizabeth of the Star Kingdom of Manticore and Protector Benjamin of Grayson approved of his actions, he just might make it through this media circus after all. "You mean I am not being relieved of command?" Thad asked excitedly.

"Of course not. Despite your checkered past, you have performed in exemplary fashion while in both the Manticoran and Grayson uniforms. I am not saying that it is going to be a cakewalk. The crew of the Warspite, heck the entire quadrant, has been shocked by what has come out about your past. There are bound to be some that hate you for what you are." Memories about Old Earth's final war were gradually fading from the collective forebrain of the species, but some prejudices over genetically modified humans remained. This despite the fact that it had happened thousands of years ago.

"I know sir, but I'll just have to do my best to over come their fears."

"Good, now on to the Battle Group. Despite your absence, preparations have continued as well as can be expected. It is a good thing you will have your hands full getting back up to speed, as it will give you an excuse to stay on the Warspite and avoid the three-ring media circus on the planet." Little did the Admiral know that the newsies would soon have bigger fish to fry. The Admiral's com chimed and he pressed the acceptance stud.

"Admiral, Captain, I'm sorry to interrupt but you need to hear this. It's from command and is going out in the clear in an all ships broadcast." The watch communications officer's face was drawn tight.

The ranking officer in the Grayson Navy, High Admiral Wesley Matthews' face came up on the wall's com screen. He looked horrible, his face drained of color. Though his voice had a peculiar huskiness, it was as strong as ever when it came from the speakers.