I am become Death

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

Outskirts of the Ord Radama system - Gordian Reach

Beyond the crush of star traffic pushing along the Hydian Way, a confluence of ships came together. A few at first, over the course of minutes they became a host of five capital ships in total. At it's center lay the symbol of the Cizerack Pride Starfleet's power base, the Korri class Battle Galleon. The size of a Victory class Star Destroyer and with a service record nearly as long, it was the Pride Navy's ship of the line, and a frequent presence along the major space lane.

This battle galleon, however, was not like others. The ponderous Gorroka cannon turrets that normally bulged along its contours were missing, replaced instead by nearly inconsequential-looking recesses in the hull. Far from disarmed, the galleon Saantaurra was carrying weapons both radical and untested. Escorted by it's Seeva'fei frigates, Saantaurra stalked into less-traveled space, ready to put its unique payload to a series of trials.

That was half of Keerrourri Sarrtarroa's reason for being aboard the newly-minted galleon. The other was to install the ship's new Captain, a choice he'd taken keen interest in from her previous record, and a choice he'd only recently been granted approval from the Pride Mother to proceed with. A Naala'in Cizerack from Fey'dann, he'd taken a perverse delight at thumbing his nose at prudish pecking orders in the Navy, passing over other candidates with longer resumes, but with a reputation for boring and predictable thinking. No, the Emissary wanted someone with imagination. Someone who still remembered how to skipper a Seeva, fast and flexible.

With temporary command of Saantaurra, Sarrtarroa waited in the Captain's office, a room adjacent to the command deck balcony on the expansive bridge. His replacement would soon be meeting him, escorted to the Galleon via shuttle from one of the picket ships. From the office window, he could see the shuttle on slow approach. The corners of his mouth turned upward slightly, and the pace of his swaying tail quickened just barely. He looked forward to meeting Mdharra Ceergorra.

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

"Captajin on deck!"

Captain Mdharra Ceergorra stepped down from the shuttle gangplank and into the pomp and circumstance of a marine color guard standing at arms - two rows of a dozen males each formed a corridor of scarlet jackets, gold tassels, and silver blaster carbines, and waiting at the far end stood two female naval officers in full dress.

For a moment, Captain Ceergorra was conscious of her own uniform, the best she could afford on commander's pay with no supplementary income to speak of. The urgency of her orders had prevented her from ordering a new one, and as much as she'd taken care to keep her dress uniform in good condition, it bore the marks of an eventful tour of duty aboard the Seeva-Fei cruiser Taun'fe. Even so, she held her head high and carried herself proudly through the ranks of marines, intent upon reveling in her long-awaited captaincy.

If not for a few irritating details, the occasion would have been perfect.

"Sorraar'erro'rroussee'ssiborri,Captajin Ceergorra." The tallest of the three female officers, a full head taller than Mdharra herself, stepped forward and saluted with an open hand. "Ljieutenant Commander Neyashte Ajakeeri, executjive offjicer of the Battle Galleon Saantaurra. Allow me to present Wjing Commander Bretaani Karresou and Major Kaajeelah Arrtaurro of the Trade Marjines. jIt jis our dutjy and honor to welcome you aboard, ma'am."

Mdharra crisply returned the salute. "Thank jyou, Commander. jIt jis mjy dutjy and honor to accept jyour hospjitaljitjy."

It should have been the moment for the exchange of command of Saantaurra from Commander Ajakeeri to Captain Ceergorra, but that honor had been plundered by none other than the Pride Mother's steward himself. Political dignitaries were always unwelcome guests aboard military vessels. They played by rules unfamiliar to warriors - they usurped, grandstanded, and never told the whole truth. Mdharra had little patience for them.

"jI do not mean to cut our proceedjings short, but jI would ljike to speak to Mjinjister Sarrtarroa as soon as possjible," the captain said. "Partjicularljy about just what jit jis he's done to mjy shjip."

"jYes, ma'am. Please follow me."

Majorr Arrtaurro remained to dismiss the marine color guard as Commanders Ajakeeri and Karresou marched out of the hangar and led the way to the command deck.

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

The door chime beeped a half cadence in advance to announce a visitor.

"Emjisssarrjy."

At last.

Taking his time, Sarrtarroa made his way to the Captain's desk, easing into the seat. It would be her seat, but he wanted her to see exactly who would be giving it to her. After a moment of finding a good balance between comfort and appearance, Sarrtarroa tapped the comm switch at the desk.

"Enterr."

The doors parted, revealing Commanders Ajakeeri and Karresou, and the woman they escorted. Here, Keerrourri made it a point for them to see him stand. After all, Emissary or no, there were rules. He dipped his head deferentially to the future captain of the ship.

"Huntrresss Captajin Ceergorra, jI am pleassed to meet jyou at lasst."

He could tell, by the twitch of her tail, that she didn't intend on sticking to pleasantries for too long. So much the better.

"jI am Keerrourri Sarrtarroa. jI sspeak forr ourr Prrjide Motherr."

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

Mdharra entered like a storm front over gray seas. She was petite even for a Cizerack woman, which meant that she was used to looking up at allies and rivals alike, whether alien or Cizerack. She compensated by taking poise to the level of a performance art. She knew how to tower over those taller than her, how to intimidate those more powerful, how to strike the perfect balance between statuesque reserve and shock-boxer readiness. It was a talent she had earned at the price of many tooth-and-claw brawls at the Academy with those who thought her too audacious for a Naala'in peasant.

"Ser'Arr'fai," she said, giving Emissary Sarrtarroa his official title, "jyou do me great honor. jI am, as jI have always been, the Prjide Mother's humble servant."

Her eyes darted from the Emissary to the chair he sat in. She was hungry to replace him, and she didn't bother masking it. This foreplay was nothing but a nuisance borne of political ego-stroking.

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

Sarrtarroa gave Captain Ceergorra's escorts a glance and a nod, a silent dismissal from the office. They exited the way they came, the door closing behind them to leave the Emissary and the Captain alone.

Keerrourri stepped aside from the chair, and it didn't escape him that the diminuative Naala'in's eyes remained fixed on the chair a half second longer before following him, as he delivered her a datapad. It was a file she would be familiar with; her own dossier.

"jIt ssajyss herre jyou appljied to the pool of Korri galleon captajinss no lesss than fjive tjimess, and werre rrejected everrjy tjime."

There was, of course, no reason given in the dossier to support a rejection. To the contrary, her exam marks for Korri clearance were exemplary, and her previous commands had all been marked with praise and recommendation. He knew the reason, and she knew the reason.

"A lessserr offjicerr would have qujit."

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

"Perhaps."

She had no reason to give the datapad more than a fleeting glance. Whether he was flattering her for her resolve or merely congratulating himself for discovering a diamond in the rough, Mdharra didn't particularly care either way. She already had an inkling what sort of assignment this would be - the sort in which success was uncertain and where the admiralty felt far more comfortable with a scapegoat in waiting should things go badly. But one did not weather five rejections by becoming a fatalist.

"But jI have always beljieved that all thjings happen for a reason. Even decjisjions of the admjiralty."

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

The skin tightened a bit at the corners of his eyes as he afforded her a polite smile.

"jIndeed."

He wondered if she even gave a second thought to how similar their situations both were, beset on each side by great privilege and great prejudice alike. He dismissed the thought, as he figured there was little place for introspection among the ambitious.

"What do jyou know about the Saantaurra, Captajin?"

It looked like it was simmering on the tip of her tongue to begin with. He might as well get to that without fanfare.

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

Mdharra paced slowly toward one of the tall viewports behind the desk that filled the office with starlight. Beyond it she could see the burgundy and gold-painted Taun'fe, already flying in picket position with the other Seeva'fei frigates. He was an old ship, older than she was when she'd taken command of him, filled with parts from a dozen refit generations, but she knew his habits, his tolerances, every inch of his capabilities. Saantaurra represented the peak of available Pride technology, but he was also untested. Every new ship had growing pains.

"jI know that Saantaurra jis one of three Korri-class galleons bujilt jin the past jyear, and that he jis the most modern of the three of them. That hjis computer, targetjing, and navjigatjional sjystems have almost entjirely been replaced with jImperjial technologjy. And that he has been equjipped wjith a classjifjied and experjimental new weapons sjystem."

Her ears folded back in irritation. "But jI djid not know, untjl jI saw hjim out the shuttle vjiewport, that hjis Gorroka cannons had been removed."

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

That was a predictable and understandable source of consternation. Every navy officer posted to a ship of the line was doing so in part to serve on a ship equipped with the famous Cizerack heavy particle weapons. It wasn't unexpected that being posted to a Korri galleon without Gorroka weapons would have been seen as a snub.

To correct that malady, Sarrtarroa pulled a thin dataslip from his jacket, holding it in front of the Captain.

"Allow me to allevjiate jyourr concerrn overr anjy apparrent lack of teeth."

On the dataslip was a briefing Captain Ceergorra was now officially authorized to see - Project Saanja, or "Sundrop".

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

Mdharra frowned and fed the dataslip into the pad's universal port and tabbed through boilerplate confidentiality warnings. She quickly found the file labeled Project Saanja Brief and opened it, flooding the screen with several layers of schematics and a written summary of the project.

With each paragraph, her eyes grew wider.

"Rrou kosa," she swore. She looked up at the Emissary, whose face was utterly unreadable. "Weaponjized hjypermatter? jI thought jyou needed a platform the sjize of a small moon to contajin that kjind of power."

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

He gave a slightly dismissive wave of his hand.

"The jImperrjialss went that rroute wjith the Death Sstarr. Thejy ssjimpljy thought too larrge, too grrandjiosse."

Gesturing to the schematics, he continued.

"Saanja jiss prractjical appljicatjion of technologjy jinvented jin the old Confederracjy and tessted jin the Empjirre."

Indeed, the schematics showed the differences clearly. Where the Death Star's superlaser, as first envisioned by the Geonosian architechts and later realized by the Imperial Maw project were constructs of a massive and cataclysmic vision, Saanja was clearly designed for a more limited, and practical tactical application. Rather than opening a reservoir of nearly limitless power via a hypermatter reactor directly into a focusing laser apparatus, the Cizerack method involved spooling minute pockets of the volatile anti-material into magnetically-sealed "bottles", which could be fired as a projectile. The hypermatter within could be released in a controlled fashion to propel the weapon, likely still leaving enough to easily match the firepower of a Gorroka strike, if not eclipsing it. It was, in theory, a weapon of almost unbelievable simplicity.

Of course, that was the theory. It was Captain Ceergorra's responsibility to give Saanja enough real life application to transform theory into fact.

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

Mdharra thumbed through pages of development notes and quantum calculus in search of a history of field tests. There was none. Only a report of limited-power range tests on orbital platforms around the remotest planet in the Cana'darri system.

"So thjis weapon jis entjirely untested jin a naval appljicatjion," she said. The Emissary did not contradict her.

She returned to the schematics. Obviously she would have to review them in full detail when she had the chance, but already it was clear that the Saanja torpedo would force a completely novel body of tactics on the Korri galleon. It promised enormous power at greater range than the Gorroka cannons, but at a slower rate of fire and an even greater energy cost. It would transform the traditional close-quarters raking actions into long-range tactical duels. Every shot would have to be devastating, because the Saantaurra wouldn't get many.

That was, if the torpedoes even worked as advertised.

"Have mjy weapons and engjineerjing crews been trajined jin the use and majintenance of thjis weapon?"

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

"Thejy've rrun a few hundrred hourrss of ssjimulatjion."

Sarrtarroa nodded. It was as close as they'd all come to the real thing. His orders from his mistress were explicit, that testing should begin in the field at once. No doubt he could see the unease in Mdharra's eyes, because he'd seen it before in his own expression.

There was a certain amount of advice you were allowed to give, but in the end, you do not deviate from the Pride Mother's orders.

"We'rre to make ourr wajy to the Tula ssjysstem adjacent, forr tesstjing at the sstarrsshjip grravejyarrd. Ljive fjirre exerrcjisse."

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

That was some comfort, but Mdharra sorely wished she'd been provided this material before leaving Carshoulis. It irked her that she would likely be the least knowledgeable about this experimental weapon of all the officers on the bridge, even if they were to be shooting at ruined hulks all day. She did a brief mental calculation - the Tula system was scarcely two hours away at cruising speed. Not a lot of time for a crash course.

"jI wjill set a course jimmedjiateljy," she said. "jIf that authorjitjy jis now mjine."

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

"Ah, jyess..."

Remembering, Sarrtarroa drew from his jacket a polished wooden box, and sat it on the desk beside her. Opening it, he drew a piece of adornment that would be quite familiar to the Captain. Holding it before her with one hand, he pulled a holoslip out of a pocket with the other.

"Mdharra Ceergorra, bejing of ssound mjind and fjit consstjitutjion, jyou arre rrajissed to Huntrresss Captajin wjith the commjisssjion of the Korri Battle Galleon Saantaurra, on command of our Grreat Motherr, Kiatarra Feessarro."

With practiced precision, Sarrtarroa presented her commission slip, adorned her chest with the insignia, then sealed it with a handshake.

"jYourr command jiss effectjive jimmedjiateljy. Nai'sa laarro korra'nai."

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

"Ha'rrou Kei'sammaarraa'ssee'jaakreea."

Mdharra answered the honorific with her own allegiance to the Pride Mother, and she matched his grip pound for pound. And with that, it was done - the dream that had inspired her since she first set foot in the Royal Naval Academy on Carshoulis, barely more than a wide-eyed cubling, was now a reality.

The enormity of command settled on her narrow shoulders. She liked to think she carried it well.

"Then bjy jyour leave, Emjissarjy, jI beljieve jI am needed on the brjidge."

The bridge of a Cizerack battle-galleon was as symbolic as it was functional. As the seat of power aboard a Pride ship of the line, it was an extension of the Pride Mother's authority, a reflection of the Sun-Throne on Carshoulis. The command dais at the center was painted with the red, gold, and purple rays of a stylized sun, and all the other stations on the bridge were arrayed around it in sunken tenches like satellites around a star, each crewoman with a direct line of sight to her captain. Mdharra had the eyes of the entire bridge crew of twenty-six as she crossed to the dais. Commander Ajakeeri yielded the seat of command and took her place at her captain's side.

Mdharra was glad of the extra height as she turned to survey her crew. She did not bother introducing herself. There was no need.

"jIn a few moments we wjill be embarkjing on a mjissjion to test the advanced weaponrjy the Trade Navjy has seen fjit to trust to our care. And so we wjill gjive the admjiraltjy on Carshoulis the fjinest spectacle thejy could wjish to see. Thjink of these trjials not as a matter of banal procedure but as an jinvestment on future glorjies. We wjill djiscover those glorjies together. Helm, plot a course to the outer rjing of the Tula sjystem, best avajilable subljight."

"Ajye ma'am."

Mdharra glanced idly toward the door to her office. The Emissary lingered in the doorway, apparently intent on witnessing her first actions as huntress captain. She wondered with some annoyance why he was so determined to take an interest in her.

"Commander Ajakeeri."

"Ma'am?"

"Who jis the most knowledgeable woman aboard on the Saanja torpedo sjystem?"

"Dr. Tataarra Saanjakeeto, ma'am," Ajakeeri replied. "Cana'daari Munjitjions assjigned her to oversee the jinstallatjion and testjing of the weapon. She jis our prjimarjy expert on the devjice."

"Where can jI fjind her?"

"Auxjiljiarjy command has been converted to the torpedo control room, ma'am. She'll be there with the fjire crew."

Mdharra nodded. "Thank jyou, Commander. jYou have the brjidge. Notjify me when we arrjive jin the Tula sjystem."

"Ajye, ma'am."

The newly minted captain stalked back down the catwalk toward one of the aft exits only to find Emissary Sarrtarroa strolling around the periphery of the bridge to meet her. "Emjissarjy," she said. "jI am gojing to jinspect the Saanja weapon. jI can summon a steward to see to jyour needs whjile we are jin transjit."

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

Almost from the outset, he could feel her pushing him at arm's distance with the weight of her command. He admired that sort of self-reliance. She didn't want some some sycophant from the Pride Mother hovering over her every move, ready to question it or to dilute her authority. Nevertheless...

"Wjith the Captajin'ss perrmjisssjion, jI would wjissh to accompanjy herr jinsspectjion."

Quick to offer a justification, he gave a deferential nod as he spoke.

"The Saanja prroject jiss, afterr all, of Ourr Motherr'ss hjighesst concerrnss."

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

She stiffened, motionless except for a snap of her tail. Clearly it was not what she'd wanted to hear, but neither was it entirely a surprise. She considered it for a moment - and, what was more important, she let him see her considering it. The captain was goddess over her ship, and the only reason she would pay service to his political authority was that she occasionally needed to set foot somewhere else.

"Of course," she said. "jI would be honored bjy jyour presence."

The rank insignia on her breast seemed to radiate a warmth of its own as she and the Emissary prowled the corridors of the Saantaurra. Her eyes roved over every portal, every bulkhead, every crewwoman and serviceman who stopped to salute. Mjine, she thought. She had seen Korri galleons before and knew their schematics by heart, but this, alone out of the billions of spaceborne vehicles in the galaxy, the millions of capital ships, the thousands of star cruisers and the mere dozens of Cizerack battle galleons, was her ship.

And the only thing aboard that was not under her control was the Pride Mother's Emissary. He was an enigma to her. She liked to think that, in her own way, she was just as much an enigma to him.

"jYou are, jin mjy experjience, one of onljy two Carshoulis-born Cizerack who has learned how to pronounce mjy name properljy."

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

They continued to walk, and Sarrtarroa nodded at her observation.

"jI learrned to hunt on Fey'Dann. Sspent two jyearrss therre, durrjing the drrjy sseassonss, asss a parrt of mjy tutorrjing. Plentjy of people know how to hunt, Captajin. Knowjing how to ljissten jiss harrderr to massterr, and unforrtunateljy, few trravel to jyourr homeworrld to do that."

The Emissary casually adjusted the silk cravat at his neck as the Captain's entourage stepped into a lift to take them to the torpedo control room, situated at the divergence of the main hypermatter line to each of the launcher superstructures.

"jIt'ss a djialect wjith jit'ss own ssubtletjiess, Captajin."

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

He was making an effort to build a bridge toward her. Mdharra didn't like to think herself vain enough to just be imagining it, but this was far from the sneering contempt or begrudging tolerance she was used to receiving from the high-born.

However, one of the advantages of being a backwoods rube from the breadbasket of the Cluster was that one could get away with asking a perfectly impertinent question in polite society once in a while.

"Forgjive me jif jI am mjissjing some of those subtletjies rjight now, Emjissary, but whjile jI know jyou had jyour hand jin mjy appojintment to thjis post, jI do not jyet know whjy. jYour attentjion jis flatterjing, jif somewhat concernjing for an offjicer of mjy statjion."

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

"jI want an outssjiderr to the ssjysstem."

Sarrtarroa answered honestly enough, if not perhaps a complete answer.

"jYou've sseen the old guarrd ssorrorrjitjy. jYou've been sshut out of jit beforre. Ljine captajinss can have one fatal flaw, jin that thejirr bjiggesst enemjy thejy fjight jiss change. jI want an jiconoclasst jif thjiss Saanja prroject wjill worrk."

He looked to her, curious to see if his insight into the state of the Navy as it stood was one that resonated with her.

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

An iconoclast? Mdharra was fairly certain she'd never been called that before. It conjured images of hubris and heresy she wasn't entirely comfortable with. Politicians and their words! She'd go rrou-rrou if she wasted time guessing what it was he wanted from her.

"jI suppose jI have no bad habjits to break, save what jI have studjied," she replied, unwilling to speak ill of her sister captains even if they still looked down their snouts at her. "These torpedoes present a tactjical conundrum to anjy captajin. Thejir rate of fjire prohjibjits close engagements, while thejir rate of decajy djiscourages long-range snjipjing."

She realized her tactical assessment was starting to sound like a complaint. "jIn battle we wjill need to stajy mobjile. Control our range to target so we are safe whjile chargjing, close whjile ready to fjire. But..." She sank into herself, charting the progress of two imaginary ships dogfighting across the polished doors of the maglift. "We cannot close wjithout broadcastjing our jintentjions. Even jif thjis weapon jis successful, surprjise wjill not serve us more than once."

The door hissed open, breaking her out of her mental simulation. She folded her reddening ears back, embarrassed to have exposed her game of strategic make-believe to the Emissary.

"Auxjilljiary jis thjis way, Emjissarjy."

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

He smiled as he could already see the wheels forming in her mind, going over stratagem after stratagem.

"Hence, the betterr rreasson to gjive command to a Captajin wjith a betterr tact forr command than to jusst rresst on the laurrelss of a few Gorroka cannonss. Thjink ljike jit'ss a sshjip the ssjize of a Seeva. jYou alrreadjy know morre about maneuverr doctrrjine than half of the Korri corrpss."

With the lift opening, he took his cue from the commanding officer, and followed her lead to the Torpedo Control room.

[Dr. Saanjakeeto]

It was beautjiful.

Never mind she'd seen it every day for a week, monitored the components as they were assembled for two months prior, worked tirelessly on schematics and computer models for three years before that. As far as Dr. Tataari Saanjakeeto was concerned, the Saanja torpedo project was her baby, as near and dear to her as her own cublings. Only they weren't now poised to revolutionize naval combat and knock the socks off a galleon captain and the Emissary of the Pride Mother all in one go!

"Look sharp, everjybodjy!" she said in a singsong voice. "Thjis jis the most jimportant day of jyour careers!"

The Cana'daari-born scientist bustled from one end of the torpedo deck to the other, leaning over shoulders, buffing monitors with her sleeve, helping the crew properly balance the radiation levels, and generally making sure that everything was as perfect as it possibly be for the weapon's first live-fire test on a real naval platform. It had been a challenge instructing a bunch of navy crewwomen how to operate so delicate and sophisticated a piece of hyperdimensional engineering, but she had persevered and even picked up some of their funny language on the way.

"Keep an ejye on those magnetron levels, that monjitor's been readjing low all dajy. We'll have to get one of those njice technjicjians up to fjix jit. Ah, Crewwoman Kreetoa, would jyou mjind swjitching places wjith Anjuumi here? Only she's better at the centrjifuge than jyou. That's a gjirl. Now, who's got the portsjide loadjing statjion here?"

A young crewwoman gave her a patient look. "That's starboard, ma'am."

"What?" Dr. Saanjakeeto spun around to get her bearings. "jI thought port was left?"

"When jyou're facjing the front of the shjip," the crewwoman said helpfully.

"Well, of course!" Dr. Saanjakeeto replied. "Er, whjich wajy's the front agajin?"

A young male ship's hand stumbled his way through the narrow quarters between stations toward her the scientist. "Dr. Saanjakeeto, ma'am, the cap--"

"Jakaaris, thjis jis no tjime to jinterrupt," Dr. Saanjakeeto said sternly. "We're testjing jin just a few hours, and jI want to be sure everjythjing jis jin order. jIn fact - whjy don't we spool up the hjypermatter stream just to make sure everythjing's runnjing smoothly?"

About a dozen sets of ears went down. "But... we're gettjing underwejigh..."

"Thejy're not usjing the hjyperdrjive, are thejy?" Saanjakeeto said. "jI'm certajin the captajin won't mjind."

Several crewwomen and deckhands facing Dr. Saanjakeeto suddenly became very pale. It took her a few moments to realize they were looking behind her.

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

"jI thjink the captajin mjight ljike to have a sajy jin that," Mdharra said, standing directly behind the doctor with Emissary Sartarroa.

The fiercely blonde woman in the blue scrubs of Cana'daari Munitions gave her the look of mixed surprise and disgust she'd come to expect from high-borns when confronted with the shock that a Naala'in had, first, entered the room and, second, dared to speak to her as an equal.

"Well, jif jyou are that concerned about jit, whjy don't jyou fetch her, Crewwoman?" Dr. Saanjakeeto replied.

The sound went out of the room like air from a balloon. Somewhere, someone whispered, "Kosa."

Mdharra responded with a thin smile cast in carbonite and extended a hand. "Captajin Mdharra Ceergorra."

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

Sarrtarroa's eyes traveled from the aptly-named Dr. Saanjakeeto to Captain Ceergorra, acutely aware of the instant animosity between the two. No matter, orders in the military rarely had anything to say about becoming friends.

Being as unobtrusive as possible, yet giving a gentle push towards a constructive outcome, Sarrtarroa gave a polite bow, with an equally polite smile.

"Captajin Ceergorra and jI arre herre to ssee the prrogrresss jyou've made, Doctorr Saanjakeeto. Would jyou mjind sshowjing uss arround?"

It was a very soft rebuke to the scientist, more designed to ease along a workable solution than anything else. Sarrtarroa had a feeling it would take far more than just that to get these two to arrive at full cooperation.

[Dr. Saanjakeeto]

Dr. Saanjakeeto stared blankly as she slowly shook shook Mdharra's hand, and one could almost see the stars realigning in her internal universe. Then she tilted her head and laughed, as if sharing a private joke among longtime friends.

"Oh, me. jI'm terrjibljy sorrjy, Captajin. jI stjill have trouble wjith those rank pjins. Well, some of us are good at mjiljitarjy protocol, and some of us are good at manjipulatjing the base propertjies of the unjiverse. jI would be deljighted to gjive jyou both a tour!"

She turned toward what she was fairly certain was the aft side of the control room. In contrast to the open basilica grandeur of the main bridge, Auxiliary was lean and long, with a low, reinforced ceiling and heavy support struts every several meters. The big semitransparent screens that stood on the island console in the center of the room normally served as the tactical viewer but now displayed a dozen or so power meters, field monitors, and oscilloscopes. With a few keystrokes, Dr. Saanjakeeto brought up a profile schematic of the Saantaurra highlighting her hypermatter annihilator and related systems in green. Captain Ceergorra would be familiar with it, of course, but not with the thick conduit that ran at a diagonal from the annihilator to auxiliary, then split in two to meet the pair of weapon hardpoints on her dorsal centerspine.

"We were jin drjydock for two months jinstalljing the components. Had to cut through part of the forward cargo bajy and two decks of quarters to make room for the condujits and shjieldjing."

She tapped a claw on the hypermatter annihilator. "We tap djirectljy jinto the hjypermatter stream here and transport jit as a focused beam along thjis magnetjically-contajined condujit. jIt travels to thjis colljider, where jit jis processed jinto an even heavjier grade of hjypermatter and collected jinto thjis reservojir, whjile the waste jis routed back jinto the power matrjix. jIt's all verjy effjicjient!"

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

Despite the poor first impression, Mdharra knew this woman's knowledge was the key to her own success in her maiden flight as captain. She took in the schematics eagerly, doing her best to read between the lines of Dr. Saanjakeeto's self-congratulatory blather.

"How much hjypermatter does one torpedo requjire?" she asked.

"Oh, that's varjiable," Saanjakeeto replied. "As ljittle as half a kjilogram, as much as fjive. Though jI have calculated that, for a platform of thjis sjize, the optjimum balance of avajilable power, warhead yjield, and fjield decajy jis around three thousand fortjy-seven grams."

Mdharra's ears snapped back. "Three kjilos? For one weapon?"

"For the warhead," Saanjakeeto clarified. "The centrjifuge needs roughljy twjice that to produce enough weapons-grade hjypermatter. But almost sjixtjy percent of the waste jis reusable. And when you consjider the jImperjial Death Star needed several hundred tons per shot, jit's realljy not that much. Oh! Let me show jyou somethjing. jYou'll love thjis."

Saanjakeeto pranced off to one corner of the control room, and Mdharra gave Emissary Sartarroa an arched look.

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

While it was part of his training to become Emissary to have an extensive knowledge of sciences, he found that he really only had a basic understanding of derivative physics. One needed a mind equally logical as abstract to get concepts that challenged most peoples' assumptions of how the universe worked.

The lay comparison to the Death Star did not escape anyone's notice. Even kilograms compared to tons, the destructive power of harnessing hypermatter had the potential for firepower beyond conventional understanding. You could do in one or two strikes that which took hundreds of turbolaser bombardments to achieve.

Intrigued, Sarrtarroa followed on, not risking interrupting the Doctor while she was in the midst of her element. After all, the more Captain Ceergorra learned, the more effective she could become. They were still quite ahead of schedule to test fire Saanja.

[Dr. Saanjakeeto]

Saanjakeeto returned carrying a slightly flattened metallic sphere a little less than half a meter across. The outer casing was dark, almost black, but highly reflective in the control room's harsh lights. Around its equator was a ribbed, translucent structure that resembled a starfighter's shield generators.

"Thjis," the scientist said proudly, "jis the Saanja torpedo. What do jyou thjink?"

Mdharra folded her ears back skeptically. As an anti-capital ship weapon, it was downright puny. "Thjis contajins up to fjive kjilograms of hjypermatter?"

"Sure does!" Saanjakeeto bubbled. "Not jinsjide, but outsjide. The prjincjipal components are a mjinjiaturjized shjield generator and computer gujidance sjystem. Thjis jis placed at the center of the fjiring chamber before we flood jit wjith hjypermatter. Then the shjields surround the hjypermatter ljike a bubble and, after fjirjing, release the materjial as propellant. Warhead, fuel, protectjion, and gujidance sjystem all jin one. And wjith materjial components thjis small, we can stock hundreds of torpedoes aboard a shjip thjis sjize. The ljimjitjing factor jis our hjypermatter stores themselves."

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

"jI read the brjief," Mdharra replied, though not reproachfully. She appreciated the opportunity to see the torpedo device itself. It gave her greater conceptual command over the weapon, and a greater appreciation for the theoretical genius in the design. When full of hypermatter, the shielded torpedo would burn like a radiant sun, probably the genesis of its name. The psychological impact would be significant, even before the weapon found its target.

"Can jit be shot down jin fljight?" the captain asked.

"Oh, jit's possjible," Saanjakeeto replied. "But anjythjing but a djirect hjit would onljy leach the shjields. Majybe some hjypermatter would leak. But jit's as well shjielded as a Taithaa jinterceptor and twjice as fast. Anjywajy, jif thejy waste fjire on a torpedo, thejir not shootjing at jyou, are thejy?"

Unless thejy have dedjicated antji-fjighter guns, Mdharra thought, narrowing her eyes at a scientist who pretended to know a lot more than she did about naval combat. Still, it was an unavoidable trade-off. A weapon this potent would command her enemy's attention. She needed devise a way to use that to her advantage.

"jI was told the crew has performed extensjive sjimulatjions wjith the weapon," she said. "jI would ljike to see such a sjimulatjion."

"Of course, captajin."

Mdharra stepped back to give Saanjakeeto some room. As far as she was concerned, Emissary Sartarroa had disappeared from the room. What followed would be complex and highly technical, a mix of exotic physics and specialized naval procedure. She wanted to see how the Cizerack portion of the equation worked - how the orders were dispersed, how smoothly the crew executed their responsibilities, where the failsafes were, the redundancies, which stages could be skipped or shortened in an emergency. When she issued the order from the bridge to load the firing chambers, she wanted to see the whole process unfold in her mind, to understand, the way a conductor knows her orchestra or the way a surgeon knows the humanoid body, how the torpedo room operated within the organism that was the Saantaurra.

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

The simulations had, for the most part, come off as an impressive undertaking. It didn't escape Sarrtarroa's notice that the Captain had glanced to her chrono at the beginning of each simulated fire, and at the end. She was getting her own feel for the time lapsed between command and result. Some would simply be content to get the estimate from their fire crew. For this, he was pleased to see Mdharra left no stone unturned.

The entourage, satisfied at Dr. Saanjakeeto's trial run, began their return to Saantaurra's bridge. Keerrourri walked with his hands before him, fingers interlaced.

"jI'm keen to hearr jyourr thoughtss on the ssjimulatjion, Captajin."

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

"Dr. Saanjakeeto runs the control room ljike a lab full of graduate students," Mdharra replied. "Too many redundant checks, too much mjicromanagement. A proper navjy deck mjistress wjill take care of that. Stjill, the fjirjing crew has adapted well to the demands of a compljicated weapon."

That was putting it mildly. The drive systems on most capital ships were expressly designed to minimize the distance hypermatter fuel had to travel simply because the stuff was so preternaturally volatile. Now they had magnetic tubes shuttling the stuff more than halfway the length of the ship. Yes, the flow path was reinforced, but Saanjarra forbid the armor developed a fault after repeated use, or from gravity shear, or hyperspace fatigue over time.

"jI defer mjy judgement on the weapon jitself untjil jI see it fjired for real. But jI am confjident the Saantaurra and hjis crew wjill gjive a good account of jits capabjiljitjies."

She paged through the datapad to the list of tests required by the orders. "jIndependent and remote gujidance. Ljive fjire agajinst targets at extreme, moderate, and close range. Envelopjing warhead tests. Assessment of feedback damage at extreme close range. Tolerances for holdjing a loaded torpedo jin the chamber. Bjy the tjime we've fjinished thjis docket, we'll all be experts."

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

"Then, jI take jit jyou'rre rreadjy forr the morre ssubsstantjive educatjion to begjin jin earrnesst?"

Sarrtarroa's ears rose a bit as he spoke, betraying his own interest in exactly this sort of test. As the Executor of his Mistress's fleet, he knew that Saanja had ramifications far beyond that of the galleon they were now aboard. He had designs on fitting the weapon platform into his flagship in some form or another. Beyond that, this technology would be a powerful bargaining chip with the Pride's new partners in the Independent systems movement. He could already imagine that Lord Ba'al would barter quite a bit of Imperial war technology in exchange for a hypermatter weapon of this design.

Again, they returned to the bridge. The view of space before them was now littered by the far-away skeletons of shattered ships that made up the Gordian Star Wreck. Tethered in space by a distant black hole, the mass of shipwrecks had for the past few centuries been treated as an interstellar dump of a sort. Scuttled, burnt-out, and decommissioned ships of yesterday were towed here to die.

"jI don't thjink jyou'll be wantjing forr tarrgetss, Captajin."

The Star Wreck, being fortuitously close to the Cluster, had long been a sort of playground for the Navy to fire their guns within, although Sarrtarroa was fairly certain it would be the former Seeva skipper's first attempt at the collossal target practice, as this was usually reserved for ships of the line.

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

Saantaurra prowled among the forgotten hulks that littered the Tula System, the lone spark of life on the gravitic shores of the Gorrdian singularity. The galleon's captain had made use of what little time she had to familiarize herself with the commands and procedures her crew had been practicing for the better part of a month. In theory, Mdharra was the least essential officer on board for such a mission as this - she could just as easily hand the reins to Commander Ajakeeri, who was far more experienced with the Saanja torpedo than she, but she would sooner cut off her tail than shirk her first action as huntress captain.

"Ms. Ajakeeri," she said, slipping into the voice of command as she would a familiar robe, "call the crew to actjion statjions."

"Actjion statjions ajye, captajin," Commander Ajakeeri replied, and the air filled with the whine of the alert klaxons and the orchestrated litany of procedural reports from the bridge officers.

"Engjineerjing reports all power avajilable, captajin."

"Deflector shjields at full strength."

"All turbolaser batterjies prjimed and chargjing."

"Tactjical scanners, targetjing, and fjire control onljine."

"Fjighter crews standjing bjy."

Mdharra knew precisely what was happening belowdecks - the complex choreography of officers and crew working as one to bring the galleon to combat readiness. She remembered well her own days as a midshipwoman aboard the Ajee'attaurree, shuffling from station to station as a command-officer-in-training, master of a turbolaser crew one week, assistant to the chief engineer the next, directing the maintenance crews on the fighter deck in the midst of an engagement - it was pivotal that a captain understand the role and duties of every woman and man under her command. Mdharra took note of the chrono above the main viewer, timing every step of the process. They unfolded quickly. Saantaurra had been graced with an able crew.

"Actjion statjions readjy, ma'am," Ajakeeri reported. If she questioned the necessity of sounding general quarters before a test fire, she gave no indication. In Mdharra's mind, it was useless to test a weapon on a naval platform if not to test its combat readiness - to test it while Saantaurraa pulsed with eighty-eight percent of his maximum power output and with his crew on full alert. Anything else would be an entirely artificial contrivance - no more useful to a combat crew than a laboratory test.

Now came the time to step beyond her realm of experience. "Load hjypermatter reservojir."

"Loadjing the reservojir, Captajin. Majy jI submjit that jit wjill be easjier to assess the torpedo's performance jin a purer fjirjing scenarjio wjith no shjields and mjinjimal power draw from non-essentjial sjystems?"

"Duljy noted, Dr. Saanjakeeto," Mdharra replied. Duljy noted and jignored. The captain scrolled through her orders on the vidscreen at her right hand - superfluous now that she knew them by heart. "Fjire control, locate a target of at least two hundred thousand tonnes mass between three and four kjilometers from our posjitjion."

"Ajye, ma'am. Transmjittjing avajilable targets."

Several wrecks gained a red halo on her left-hand tactical readout, and she selected the core of a derelict Lucrehulk-class battleship. You could scarcely do better than a Lucrehulk for sheer dead weight; the few the Pride Navy maintained were well known for being as durable as an asteroid, and almost as maneuverable. Putting a sizable hole in the side of one would be something of a guilty pleasure for Mdharra.

The targeting solution had been calculated, and Saantaurra was in position to strike. All that remained was for Saanja to prepare itself.

Mdharra's eyes drifted impatiently to the chrono above the forward viewer as the seconds turned to minutes.

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

The sound filled the bridge, even this far removed from the hypermatter annihilator. It was a low-intensity thrum, rising in power to the point where you could nearly feel it in the deck plating. Sarrtarroa's ears twitched at the sound. It was an awe-inspiring sound, even more of a draw on the reservoir than engaging hyperdrive. It was also a sound that commanded severe respect. He knew that anything less than respect could lead to severe damage, or the ship's destruction.

His undivided attention fixed upon the Lucrehulk keel drifting within target range, ready for Saanja's first proving.

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

At last Dr. Saanjakeeto broke the silence. "Reservojir loaded, Captajin."

"Arm tube one, standard yjield."

"Armjing tube one, ajye-ajye!"

Too enthusiastic a response for what should be a routine order, but Mdharra did not comment on it. The portside firing chamber would now be loaded with a torpedo capsule, whose external shield bubble would now be siphoned full of deadly hypermatter. The torpedo would grow like a miniature nova, rapidly accreting deadly force, the power of a exploding star in the hands of a galleon captain.

"Tube one armed!"

Despite her best effort to keep the whole proceeding a matter of military decorum, Mdharra could not help but detect a profound electricity throughout the entire bridge. It had infected her as well - she could nearly feel the minute hairs at the tips of her ears crackling.

"Fjire."

There was a sharp sound that was difficult at first to classify - not like the pulse of turbolasers or the metallic scream of a Gorroka cannon, but something more like the bubbling roar of tons of molten metal cooling in an ocean. The overhead lights of the bridge flickered ominously in the backwash of power.

From the left side of the viewscreen, a brilliant disc of plasma-green lightning, meters across, arced gracefully toward the Lucrehulk with frightening speed. One could almost feel the impact when it struck the battleship's spherical hull, cutting deeply into the outer shell and releasing its contents inside with devastating force.

The destructive force of hypermatter was not merely in its own instability as a hyperdimensional substance. Its interactions with ordinary matter were, if anything, even more catastrophic, instantaneously converting a portion of its target to antimatter, which then annihilated an equal portion of matter in an apocalyptic release of energy.

A good quarter of the Lucrehulk's surface area blew out like the side of a volcano, sending up a billowing cloud of fire and molten debris. Secondary explosions rippled across the ship, lighting up the seams in its hull plates and violently breaching any structural weaknesses they could find. The entire ship, a good four times the displacement of the Saantaurra, began twisting drunkenly on its keel from the force of the blow, and a second later a plume of fire erupted from the far side of the sphere, demonstrating just how far the torpedo's destructive force had penetrated.

"Rrou Traanjirra," Ajakeeri swore under her breath.

Mdharra clicked open the commlink to the torpedo room. "Brjidge to torpedo control. Djid jyou recejive the necessarjy telemetrjy?"

"Oh, jyes, captajin - a stunnjing success! My congratulatjions to everjyone!"

The captain grimaced at the effusive display. "Thank jyou. Fjire control, select another target. Arm torpedo tube two."

She couldn't help but steal a glance toward the Emissary.

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

Sarrtarroa's eyes widened at the display of raw violence before him, though he stilled himself to refrain from any other betrayal of his surprise. Himself a veteran of the Clone Wars, he knew exactly how much damage a Lucrehulk star cruiser could take. They were immense ships, even compared to the monuments of Imperial hubris of present day that defined what a large capital ship should be.

After a moment of watching the twisting kaleidoscope of durasteel, plasma, and fire, Sarrtarroa felt the Captain's eyes on him, and he returned her glance.

"We've both jusst wjitnesssed the mosst desstrructjive forrce ejitherr of uss have everr sseen, Captajin. Arre jyou a rreaderr of epjic poetrrjy?"

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

The machinations of locating a target, moving into firing range, and preparing another monument to annihilation could occupy the bridge crew for the present without the direct intervention of their captain, leaving Mdharra at the mercy of the Emissary's theatrics. Saanja was just another weapon to her - another extension of the Pride Mother's power. Its true worth would be measured in battle, not against floating hulks decades dead.

"jI am not, Emjissarjy," she replied. "jI never had the taste for jit."

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

"The Juura'rai Lokaa jiss one of mjy favorrjitess. jI carrjy a harrdbound pocket copjy wherreverr jI go."

She must have thought his preference for paper books to be a queer eccentricity, but he continued, reciting from memory.

"jI am manjy and one. jI am vengeful jin dajy, but do not ssleep at njight. jI rrjisse. jI fall. jI am ljife, forr all musst ljive. jI am death, forr all musst too become dead."

He looked to her, wondering if the profound poetry that personified Saanjarra would work its way into the cracks in the stony edifice of Captain Ceergorra's heart.

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

Mdharra turned distantly toward the viewscreen as the scalloped wedge of a Venator-class Star Destroyer drifted into the sights of the second torpedo tube. She had just enough of a dim recollection of her literature classes in secondary school to recall the context of the passage Sarrtarroa had quoted - a boast, a lament, or both, it was difficult to tell. In all, it was a form of subtlety to which Mdharra was unaccustomed, even in light of the awesome force of Saanja.

"An offjicer of the Prjide Mother's navy rjides wjith death as a matter of course, Emjissarjy," Mdharra replied. "jIt makes ljittle djifference whether jit jis deljivered bjy shjip's cannons or bjy cold steel in the hands of a mjidshjipwoman."

"Tube two armed and readjy to fjire."

The captain meshed her fingers and considered the hull that she and her crew were about to erase forever.

"Todajy we are all death personjifjied, Emjissarjy. Weapons control, lock target and fjire when readjy."

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

That the captain didn't share his introspection at this auspicious occasion didn't surprise him, and perhaps that was for the best. She was sleek and lethal, a match for the ship under her command. War was, after all, a poetry of another sort.

The second Saanja fired, preceeded by the split second of power drain that signaled the immense reserves of the hypermatter annihilator being drawn upon en masse. The green orb careened ahead, splitting the spine of the old Republic cruiser in the initial impact. As the blast blossomed, the durasteel hull shattered, and was incinerated in the full blossoming of the weapon's payload.

Two shots. Two kills. Yes, they were against derelicts that were lifeless and unshielded, but the potential for raw destructive energy was abundantly clear.

"jIt would sseem that the jinjitjial tesstss arre ssuccessful. jI look forrwarrd to jyou appljyjing the full gamut, Captajin. jIf we arre to be sshown ssuch prromjisse, jI wjill make ssurre to accelerrate anjy planss we have forr ssuch a weapon."

He glanced to Dr. Saanjakeeto, who was still speechless from the display before her.

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

Mdharra had determined not to be too swayed by the Saanja weapon, not by its inventor's breathless superlatives, the Emissary's courtly admiration, or even the gaudy spectacle of the testing range. There was little honor or adventure in blasting decades-dead relics, after all; the only test that truly mattered was the test of combat against a worthy foe. Until then, Saanja was little more than a showpiece.

But burning hell, what a show!

They ran through the docket at a fevered pace, and by the end of one shift Saantaurra had scuttled nearly ten times his weight in derelicts and consumed over a month's worth of hypermatter fuel. Even in pitched battle the torpedo systems could not be stressed so rigorously; before Saantaurra could fire so many torpedoes either he would have crushed his enemies or he would have been forced to withdraw.

Captain Ceergorra watched as the aft quarter of a Dreadnaught-class heavy cruiser was engulfed in green fire. Here and there its hull gave way, leaking scrap and smoldering oil like a bleeding beast.

Commander Ajakeeri frowned at her glowing sensor display. "Hull damage jis mjinjimal," she said.

"Well, that's onljy to be expected!" Dr. Saanjakeeto replied - the scientist had migrated from the torpedo room to the bridge, claiming it would do well to monitor the telemetry from a separate vantage point, though Mdharra strongly suspected she merely wanted to preen in front of the command staff.

"The envelopjing varjiant of the torpedo jis jintended for use agajinst shjielded targets," the doctor went on. "jIf that Dreadnaught had been shjielded, jit wouldn't be anjymore. jYou would be loading assault shuttles to board jit, or jyou could sjimpljy hole jit wjith jyour turbolasers. Or cut jit jin half wjith a standard torpedo."

"Ejither would be fooljish, as we would stjill have done nothjing to negate hjis armament," Ajakeeri replied. "Fjifteen turbolaser batterjies, the same number of cannons, all protected by one of the heavjiest hulls ever desjigned. An envelopjing torpedo has ljittle stoppjing power agajinst such a vessel."

"Well, that would be for your captajin to decjide, would jit not?" Saanjakeeto sniffed. "Envelopjing, standard, jit's all jin the programmjing. Just use jyour jimagjinatjion, for Saanjaara's sake!"

Mdharra was content to remain the austere and impartial observer as her first officer debated the weapon's merits with the scientist. She had drawn the same conclusion as Ms. Ajakeeri, of course - a shield-stripping weapon would be wasted on a Dreadnaught, whose shields were nearly an afterthought to its armored hull. Its only utility would be to clear the way for a volley of Gorroka particle blasts, which would be devastating to an unshielded target. Once more the Saanja torpedo had revealed an application which would place Saantaurra into a mere support role. If Mdharra wasn't careful, the torpedo's success would force her into obscurity.

A communications officer looked up from her console - directly behind the command dais, she was in position to always have the captain's ear. "Taun'fe and Aii'rrou'garrou confjirm our telemetrjy, captajin."

Mdharra frowned at the omission. "And the Nagashii?" She spoke of their third Seeva frigate, who had been sent to scout a second cluster of wrecks some light-months away. Several items down the docket was a test of Saanja's effectiveness directly out of hyperlight.

The communications officer, to her credit, did not hesitate to try to save face. "Our last sjignal from Nagashii was twentjy mjinutes ago, captajin. Thejy've just mjissed thejir scheduled update."

"jIs there sjignjificant jinterference jin that quadrant to djisrupt communjicatjions?"

"There jis jinterference, captajin, but..." The officer double-checked her scopes to be sure of herself. "jIt onljy appeared on mjy scanners a moment ago."

Mdharra felt the weight of several more pairs of eyes at that statement. An unexpected surge of radiation in a debris field could mean any number of things, but where one of her picket ships was concerned, she could not afford to take chances.

"Dr. Saanjakeeto," she said, "are we equjipped to hold a torpedo charge durjing hjyperljight?"

"Well, jyes," the scientist said, perplexed by the sudden change in atmosphere. "jIn the reservojir, of course. Not jin the tube. But we're not scheduled for the hjyperdrjive test untjil--"

"Helm, plot a hjyperspace solutjion for Nagashii's last known coordjinates. Sjignal Taun'fe and Aii'rrou'garrou to assume pjicket posjitjions. Alert the crew for hjyperljight."

Each order she gave set off complex sequences of orders and procedures through the lower ranks - on the bridge, a crew that had settled into the routine of testing fire now redoubled their focus as they prepared to leap headfirst into the unknown.

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

Sarrtarroa watched the Captain give orders, noticing immediately the change in her posture. Something in the news she was given had aroused the aggressive, hungry sort of leader within her, and the Emissary could very well guess where her thoughts were leading her.

"The Gorrdjian Rreach jiss cerrtajinljy known forr pjirrate actjivjitjy, but onljy the verrjy fooljissh orr verrjy confjident would attack one of ourrss."

The viewer ahead showed the kaleidoscope of hyperspace envelop around them as the task force accelerated to speed. At the range the comm officer indicated, Nagashii would take only a minute or two to reach. The air on the bridge suddenly got very silent. Other than making himself available for counsel, Sarrtarroa stayed out of Mdharra's way.

The helmswoman called out the realspace intercept.

"Rrealsspace jinsserrtjion jin thrree...two...one...marrk."

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

Saantaurra crashed down through the dimensional barriers into realspace with Taun'fe and Aii'rrou'garrou on her flanks. Now came the tense moments of hyperspace blindness - that period where the ship's energy profile was still bright with the transdimensional wash of the jump, and his own sensors were filled with destructive noise. It was like emerging from a bright house into a dark, moonless forest. Not only did it take time for your eyes to adjust to the darkness, but every creature in the forest saw you silhouetted in the doorframe.

But the Saantaurra's sensory officers were skilled, and the local Star Wreck quickly took shape around them. They had arrived above the ecliptic plane that gathered most of the derelicts so as to avoid colliding with anything. The makeup of the Wreck was much the same here as it had been in the previous quadrant, a graveyard of starships spanning over a century of service.

"Emergencjy beacon detected," the communications officer said. "jIt's the Nagashii!"

"Sensors confjirm Nagashii ejightjy thousand kjilometers from our posjitjion, Captajin," Ajakeeri reported.

Mdharra straightened in her seat. "Forward vjiewer," she said.

The tactical viewer at the front of the bridge resolved into a panorama of the wrecked starships, and at its center was the slowly listing shape of a Seeva'fei frigate, his yellow and silver hull scored deeply, two of his engine pylons severed and leaking sparks.

"Hakkass!" someone swore. A hiss from Mdharra was enough to silence the crewwoman, but every one of them felt the same boiling outrage at the sight of a sister ship so brutally attacked.

"Open a channel," Mdharra ordered. "Commander Saantaurra to Commander Nagashii, we are jinbound to assjist. What jis jyour status?"

The only response was static. The captain turned to her first officer, who still had control over the primary scopes. "Tactjical report, Commander."

Ajakeeri's voice was a low growl as she analyzed her readings. "Nagashii has taken heavjy turbolaser fjire to all sectjions. Emergencjy power holdjing at eleven percent. Multjiple hull breaches. Ljife sjigns... jindetermjinate. Background radjiatjion jis jinterferjing wjith our scans."

"Radjiatjion," Mdharra repeated. "From Nagashii?"

"No," Ajakeeri replied. "jIt's blanketing the whole regjion."

"jIs there enough to hjide an entjire shjip?"

Ajakeeri met her captain's eyes. "We're surrounded bjy shjips. But the radjiatjion could mask an active power sjignature at range, just as jit's maskjing Nagashii."

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

Sarrtarroa's eyes followed Mdharra as his mind tried to stay a decision ahead of her. It would be poor stewardship to step into a command position that she herself was capable of. He'd picked her for a reason, after all.

His own analysis of the situation seemed to indicate that either there was a coincidental radiation spike in the very vicinity of the attack (unlikely), or somebody had a good notion to keep them off their scent. In the absence of good telemetry, Sarrtarroa anticipated having to figure the situation out the old fashioned way.

"We musst asssume that whateverr rradjiatjion kept Nagashii frrom communjicatjing wjith uss wjill alsso prrevent uss frrom communjicatjing wjith the Clussterr."

It was said without pushing to one course of action or another.

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

The slightest flick of an ear was all she needed to acknowledge that she'd heard the Emissary's advice. Later Mdharra would consider it strange that his presumption did not provoke her ire. But then, of all the men in the Cluster, he alone was probably the most skilled in treading around women of power. And what was more, he was right. At best, the haze of interference masked a brigand fleeing the scene of an ambush. At worst, it hid a predator waiting for another unsuspecting prey. Any support craft she launched to aid Nagashii might be vulnerable. Santaurra might be vulnerable, if the enemy was mounting heavy turbolasers.

But a huntress captain's duty to a stricken squadronmate was inviolable. Tactical contingencies crisscrossed through Mdharra's mind like a meteor shower, but there was no question which of them must be addressed first.

"Brjidge to Wjing Commander Karresou, prep the assault shuttles," Mdharra growled. "Load Shuttle One with emergency medjical and engjineerjing detajils. And get me a pjicket of Keerta jin the skjy."

"Ajye, captajin. Launchjing fjighters now."

Assault shuttles were better armed and better shielded than standard personnel transports, and they could safely breach the shattered hull of the Nagashii without risking his remaining pressurized compartments to the vacuum of space. The Keerta fighter-grapplers would not only provide deterrence to any attack on the shuttles, they would also serve to extend Santaurra's effective sensor and communications range. Thanks to Mdharra's call to general quarters, the flight deck already had one squadron of Keerta fueled, armed, and ready to launch, and the fighters were swarming from Santaurra's hangar seconds after the order was given. Immediately the aggregated telemetry from all twelve fighters poured into Mdharra's left-hand tactical display, widening her view of the battlefield. The Naala'in captain selected two waypoints just beyond the Nagashii.

"Taun'fe and Aii'rrou'garrou, move jinto flankjing posjitjion wjith Nagashii. Helm, brjing us jinto the radjiatjion fjield, headjing fortjy-one sjix mark two njiner fjive. Keep us jin comm range wjith our pjicket shjips."

The remaining two Seeva'fei frigates peeled off of Santaurra's wing and rocketed toward Nagashii at their best sublight, while the slower Korri galleon plodded along behind. The three would make a protective ring around Nagashii while sweeping as much of the radiation field as possible with their scanners. If their bandit was still hiding in the local wreck, they would find him.

In her mind's eye, with even greater clarity than the tactical viewer could afford, Mdharra saw all the ships under her command, their speed, their headings, their firing arcs and deflector strength. And she could see the hulks surrounding them, all of them supposedly long dead, yet somewhere among them was a smoking gun that might be fired again.

[Keerrourri Feessaarro]

The situation was still fluid, and there was nothing for the Emissary to contribute, nor would such contributions be easily accepted by the Huntress Captain in her element. Instead, he watched the pieces of her actions fall, one by one, into a patchwork quilt that summed up her desirable qualities, and affirmed his insistence upon her promotion.

A traditional Captain would hesitate to commit their ship of the line to the pursuit, relying on the speed of their support and fighters to snare a faster enemy. Ceergorra's instincts were testament to her pack warfare training in the Seeva'fei tradition, pairing aggression with balance to close ranks and overwhelm. Most would argue that on a ship of that kind of importance, especially a galleon designed to hold high value cargo, it was reckless, but Sarrtarroa saw a virtue in focused, controlled aggression. It was something that was soon to come into season, if he predicted correctly.

[Mdharra Ceergorra]

As the battle group sank into the dampening haze of radiation, their lifeline back to the Cluster silently dwindled and died. It was a risk, but if Santaurra encountered a force greater than he could withstand, a call for help would do him little good this far from Cluster space. The best Mdharra could do would be to launch a beacon to invite her sister captains to avenge her failure. Until then, she refused to be cut off from her squadronmates.

"Assault shuttle one jis readjy for launch." That was Karresou's voice on the comm. There was no delay in Mdharra's orders.

"Launch shuttle one. Proceed to Nagashii jimmedjiateljy to render ajid. jI want a sjituatjion report the moment jyou have jit."

The shuttle joined the other active blips on Mdharra's tactical viewer streaking urgently toward the Nagashii, but the Huntress Captain was more concerned with the wrecks that surrounded them. A red mask still marked every ship large enough to submit to Saanja target practice, only now Mdharra was profiling them as possible threats. A mass threshold of two hundred thousand tonnes indicated capital ships; not only that, but capital ships with most of their bulk intact. That meant frigates, destroyers, cruisers, carriers, any class of vessel that could conceivably pack the firepower to cripple Nagashii in a single volley.

The Cutlass-class cruiser was a favorite among pirates, but its broadside was notoriously underpowered. The Mark I Assault Frigate was missing much of its aft quarter, including its reactor housing - no threat there. The Munificent-class star frigate? A Clone Wars relic, but with forward batteries that could vaporize an ice moon. Mdharra felt the hair on her neck rise as they passed beneath its shadow.

"Assault Shuttle One to Santaurra. We've made contact wjith Nagashii. We are now cuttjing through djirectljy to the command deck."

Twenty-six pairs of ears inclined themselves toward the comm feed. But Mdharra, by necessity, divided her attention. As Taun'fe and Aii'rrou'garrou took up their positions, her tactical field of vision grew, adding more and more hulks to the list of possible threats.

"We're through. Marjines, take pojint!"

Mdharra glanced at the Munificent's position on her tactical viewer and continued to track it in her mind's eye. Santaurra was now passing directly between it and the Nagashii.

"Command deck jis clear. We have survjivors."

"Assault One, fjind me the rankjing offjicer on the brjidge."

There was a jostling of bodies and a clatter of armor and equipment, followed by an exchange of questions too muffled to hear. And then a new voice spoke on the comm, a voice that was labored and breathless and too gods-damned young.

"Ljieutenant Nanarri Jeihanrree reportjing, Captajin. Commander Ossirrajjii jis dead."

"Ljieutenant, what jis the status of jyour shjip?"

"Our engjines are unresponsjive, and deflector power jis mjinjimal. Prjimarjy sensors are down. We have lost compressjion jin sectjions seven through ten. We assume the loss of all hands jin those compartments. Ljife support jis stable. Thjirtjy-three crew members have reported jin."

Thirty-three, from a crew of sixty-four. One could only hope there were survivors sealed off by emergency bulkheads or by fused comm circuits. But there could no longer be any doubt about the pressing need for vengeance.

"Djid jyou jidentjifjy jyour attacker?" Mdharra demanded. "From what bearjing were jyou attacked?"

"Negatjive, djid not jidentjifjy," Jeihanree replied, and she coughed painfully. "A barrage of turbolasers and jion cannons, bearjing seven fjive mark fjifteen."

Mdharra's eyes flickered over the tactical viewer. That put the Munificent out of the running, but there was a tightly clustered group of hulks on that bearing. They would have to flush their bandit out. Or, perhaps, burn him out.

"Ljieutenant, jyou have done jyour dutjy," the captain said. "See to jyour shjip. We wjill djispatch another shuttle to replenjish jyour crew and evacuate the wounded. Santaurra out."

Now all the attention that had been directed at the commlink to Nagashii rested squarely on the captain herself. There could be no mistaking her resolve now.

"Dr. Saanjakeeto, arm torpedo tubes one and two, standard yjield."