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The wardroom was massive, a vaulted construct of white inlaid with gold and outfitted to accommodate the immense size of Fleet Lord Sharna, who sat at the head of the bronze table, her flowing robes wrapped neatly about her knees. She looked down the table at the small gathering of organics, her black, crystalline face unreadable. Angelica was sitting at the opposite end of the table, Trillian to her right, Sonja to her left, Marsh standing a few feet behind, just out of physical reach of Angelica and just out of reach of the towering Synth guards that lined the edges of the wardroom. Trillian sipped a tumbler full of a thick, amber liquid whilst Sonja merely tried to avoid looking at hers, uncomfortable by its presence. She didn't know what it was, but anything provided by the Synths to other races was always held in a highly suspect regard and with good reason.

Angel sat silently, a completely different picture than before, her gaze downcast, her posture submissive. She spoke no words, just listened as the Fleet Lord spoke, her melodic voice soothing yet terrifying at the same time. A formal apology had been made upon entering the wardroom and a stock of the Hope's own cargo seemed to appease the Synth commander some, if not by much. Given that Thymion had no use for gemstones, Angel offered them as compensation for the time wasted on her ship and crew. The stones themselves were uncut, but clear as glass and large. Several sealed boxes of them had been brought off the Hope's Blade and set in the loading dock for inspection.

At first, it was not so well received, believed to be a poor attempt at a bribe and a mocking jab at the Synthenoid Empire's inability to cultivate their own crystal fast enough to keep up with demand. However, after explaining some of the cultural differences of Thymion and that they had little value to anyone there, the cargo of gems meant for the GC was accepted as compensation for time and resources spent on the Synth's part.

''- your attempted entry into Sterwil held territory under stealth was ill advised.'' Sharna said smoothly, casting a look at Trillian. He tried not to wilt under that cold gaze, ''Did you not heed your advisor's words? Under the circumstances, did he even give you advice? He was, after all, for want of better words, your hostage. It would have been in his best interests to help you in your endeavor in any way possible.''

''He advised me, Fleet Lord. I just chose to ignore him.'' Angelica said softly, and with no hint of resistance or emotion.

''And his colleagues? I believe he was Acting Captain of the Ranger when the Thymion dreadnought, Daglia, captured them. What about the then-Captain Spears' Second, Lieutenant Commander Hartman?''

''Lieutenant Commander Hartman advised me a total of four times.''

''And then?'' Sharna prompted.

Angelica's gaze, still fixed on the polished surface of the table before her, did not waver as she spoke softly, ''I mocked him repeatedly for what he was. He left me alone after that.''

''You are not accustomed to the role of military leader nor dignitary, are you?'' The Fleet Lord replied after a moment. It wasn't malicious in any way; it was just a statement of fact.

''No, Fleet Lord. Not in this capacity. When I became Empress, there was little left of my people and even less of our culture. Most had reverted to the hunter/gatherer ways to avoid each other for fear of spreading the plagues more. The only advisors I had were my family I grew up with off world. None of them have ever seen or done things like this. It was all guess work as best as we could do. Early attempts at negotiation were unfortunately no good, and it left me with the impression the greater galaxy had no desire to help us. That we must defend ourselves with the only abilities that were available to us at that time.''

''Our ways are a little stuffy, aren't they? We're so embroiled in beaurocracy most times that our methods are often completely alien to outsiders and come with a harsh learning curve.'' Angelica stayed quiet. The question was not a question, not really. ''Unfortunately, as awkward and sluggish a chain of command can be, it is needed. In your Empire, you are the embodiment off all officers as well the embodiment of your government? You have few middlemen to parse off workloads to? No military or political branches to perform the multitude of functions for running a world to aid you?''

''That is correct, Fleet Lord. I have ship captains who work alongside me. One advisor, and a twin sister that rules when I am not on world. That is all.''

''Alongside you? Or are they mere underlings? There is a difference, you know, between fear and respect.'' Sharna's voice took on a darker tone and a little sliver of Angelica's mind that was still on form winced before fading out completely, ''I have reviewed everything the Ranger has recorded and if you treat your captains how you treated Captain Spears, then I do not hold any hope for the future of your people. I feel they live in fear of you, more than anything else. Fail a simple mission and the punishment is death, hm?''

''No, Fleet Lord. I am not that harsh. I sentence them to study and meditation for a period of time.''

''And yet, instead of rising above your enemies, you sank down to their level. On top of that, the aid the Galactic Council managed to shake free to help you after they realized they had been lied to, you simply made disappear. What happened to those aid and exploration ships you were sent?''

When she didn't reply, Trillian leaned over, his voice pitched low. His breath smelled sweet, greasy, like overripe fruit, ''I am throwing you one last life-line here, Angelica: answer her honestly or you'll just dig your hole deeper.''

''Heed your advisor's words, young one. He has more years and more combat experience than you, contrary to your personal beliefs. His wisdom is indispensable, especially at a time like this.'' Sharna prompted.

''We didn't know they were sent to help us. We were so deep in war, buried in so much suffering, that it never crossed my mind that they wanted to help. We had no technology. So any being with tech was often considered an enemy. The sheer number of ships that attacked our planet daily before I began destroying worlds was immeasurable. Any aid that came in was looked upon with more scrutiny than the water we scrapped up to drink. They were outsiders and were therefore deemed hostile. One ship was destroyed, along with all hands on board. The rest were purposely stranded. Their memories were wiped and they were set up with new lives. It was the only way to protect ourselves.''

Sharna went thoughtful. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally spoke up, ''Fourteen ships and eight-thousand, two-hundred and ten souls. Plus all cargo aboard; medical, long-life rations, water filtration systems, all-season tents and fabric for clothes and blankets.''

''Those rations were poison.'' Angelica said blandly, looking up at the Synth commander for the first time.

''Incompatible with your digestive systems or tampering?''

''Tampered with. Laced with new forms of the pathogens that almost killed us off. As well as some cases were rigged with nuclear weapons, designed to explode and poison a massive area with radiation that would make it unsuitable for crops or livestock. One package was even found to contain a note from one of the five races we were at war with. Taunting us for having so much power but being unable to fight them.''

''No doubt piracy. All those ships were of Avran registry and operated solely by Avran. They are a pacifist species and do everything they can to help those in need. It's rare they fight back. No doubt they succumbed to piracy. It's not unusual for medical and food supplies to be targets for the enemy, especially if the ruse of a routine inspection is in play. Are these people still alive on your worlds?''

''Yes, those that haven't died from natural causes or accidents. What medical technology we have is enhanced further with the psychic and magical abilities of our healers to prolong even a mortal life by hundreds of years.''

''I see... That is quite a problem.'' Sharna said softly. ''Since their families believe them to be either dead or missing in action, then that is a subject we will have to broach later on. Tell me what, exactly, is it you wished to gain from this botched foray into unchartered territory?''

''A chance for my people. A chance to go beyond our stars, to settle new colonies and trade with others. To at the least leave a small mark that said our dying culture did exist at some point and that we tried, on some level, to be peaceful before we were forced to war. And perhaps a chance for other cultures to see the three billion years of history we had before most of it was obliterated by planetary shelling,'' Angelica replied deadpan.

Behind her, Marsh shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. At the far edges of her mind, he could hear millions of voices, whispering on a psychic breeze. It reminded him of his own people, always there at the edges of conscious thought, crowding in during sleep cycles. It felt as if the void in her mind that she had created was slowly filling up with the inexorable pull of her home world. He looked to Trillian, mentally nudged him just hard enough to get his attention and told him what he sensed. As Angelica and the Fleet Lord spoke, Trillian watched Angelica closely, activating some of his own Synth implants and scanned her. Things were reading as normal, barring her breathing which was growing steadily shallower. There was also a curious concentration of energy registering in the upper regions of the electromagnetic spectrum. His Synth-made Psy-Suppressor, implanted all those years ago came online, startling Marsh as it shut him out with an aggression that neither had felt before. Trillian cast an odd look at Marsh. Marsh shrugged. Sonja watched Angelica like a starved hawk would eye up prey.

Even Fleet Lord Sharna was studying her with interest.

''I believe I have all of the information required to complete the timeline for the final report. I release the Hope's Blade back into Thymion custody under one condition; that she leave this sector at best speed. If she or any other Thymion ship is to return to Sterwil Federation space in any capacity, it will be announced or will be met with deadly force with no intention of prisoners. Is that understood, Empress Wolfen?'' Sharna said.

''I understand, Fleet Lord. No Thymion ship will ever reach your Federation space or leave our void again. Thank you for your precious time and energy. I bid you a good day,'' Angelica said.

The three of them stood, bowing to Sharna and filed out, Marsh bringing up the rear as a pair of Synth guards escorted them back down to the auxiliary hangar.

~~~~~~~~~~

Billy was the first to see Angel after their release and the old dog immediately knew something was wrong the moment he set eyes upon her. He could tell as her movements weren't smooth, they were almost robotic in nature. There seemed to be no warmth to her as she spoke to the Stalkers, who looked equally worried about her. Her eyes had lost their shine and her hair was not sparkling. She was moving slowly, to the point that she seemed to be running out of energy. He ran over to her, scooped her up in his arms and held her against his chest before he put her at arm's length, looking her over with a critical eye. She was no small woman at just over six feet, but he still towered over her at almost eight feet in height.

''Baby girl... it's your dad. You ok?'' He said repeatedly in a gentle voice until her monotone answer that she was fine made him look at the others questioningly, almost accusingly. It was as he pulled her dress shirt down some that Marsh noticed something. There was a large red object buried in her fur, quite possibly what Trillian saw and no doubt Fleet Lord Sharna, too. He only caught a glimpse of it before her fur covered it up again. He looked to Trillian, who had gone extremely thoughtful. A look of realization was slowly creeping across Sonja's face as she slotted another piece of the puzzle into place. Her nostrils flared, as if she was scenting the air, her forked tongue flickering from between her scaled lips.

The stone hadn't initially been picked up by her first scans, nor did it register with the EHP. The last one wasn't surprising. The EHP had been set to heal burns, not scan for foreign objects. And even if it had, Marsh thought, the stone wasn't a foreign object as it was a part of her. With that, he knew that the other thing he had been sensing since she woke up was that stone. And it housed thousands of voices. An interesting turn of events for sure, but he wondered just how much interference it was running in her mind now that the Psy-Suppressor was active.

Maybe we should remove that Suppressor. He nudged Sonja.

She nodded thoughtfully, scratching at her chin. It was a tough decision and she accessed her wetware to tell Trillian and to express her thoughts and ideas on it.

''One hell of a double-edged blade we're standing on. Remove the Suppressor and we die. Keep the Suppressor active and we die anyway because she's died. I should have listened to Ensign Reana and told her no. An early death would have been preferable to the long torture beforehand.'' The tiger transmitted back sourly.

''Hindsight is a wonderful thing.'' Sonja purred over the commlink.

''Being honest is a wonderful thing, too.'' He snarled and then cut the line. Trillian heaved a great sigh and stepped forward, shutting the comm off and speaking aloud, ''Your Grace, I suggest you get your ship underway so we can get you back to the Ranger.''

She looked over her shoulder and nodded slowly, ''Of course.''

Billy looked from Angelica to Trillian, his expression souring somewhat. Sonja eyed him up, watching him carefully. He looked as if he was considering something and when he went to walk toward Trillian, Angel reacted, putting a hand in his way, pushing him back slowly as she spoke. ''Father, please return to the ship and prepare it for departure. I will repair the damage and you will return to Thymion space immediately. Inform Mariana that upon my return to Thymion space I will turn over control of the Empire to her once more. On arrival, you will enact Protection Protocol on the planet. Understood?''

She was still monotone and flat, and that scared Billy, sending a shard of ice into his core. He had only ever seen her like this years ago. He looked imploringly at the gathered Stalkers, but said nothing that would clue them in further, instead leaving them in the dark. He turned away, looking at the crew of the Hope's Blade who were mostly comprised of the family of the Empress.

With a resigned sigh, he nodded. ''Yes, Your Grace.'' He said softly and turned toward the ship. He was silently praying that she was not hurt and that they had not poisoned her in some way.

Once they were aboard, Angel cupped her paws together. Her chest flared, glowing a bright red as crimson electric energy arced off her to the ship. Marsh watched, interested in this new turn of events, seeing that the Psy-Suppressor was still attached to her as she worked. Sonja looked on, unsurprised. Whatever magic she was weaving, worked independently from her psychic abilities as a whole. They watched in curious silence as the Hope's Blade began to shift and bend, its skin rippling minutely but visibly. It was pulling itself back into its original form, the deformed hump across its spine melting back into shape, the cracks in the armor sealing up as if they hadn't been there. After a moment there was a soft thrum as the engines kicked back online. The Thymion destroyer was back in its original configuration and ready to set sail as if it had just left the dry dock for the first time. Marsh made a wry mental note of it. It seemed that she could do something decent after all. That attitude of hers, however impressive her performance, was still completely uncouth and it had ruined more than enough lives. He knew she was still extremely young by Thymion standards, but if she wanted to be a leader, then she had to be willing to learn and accept her shortcomings. Perhaps one day, in the distant future she might be a proper Empress.

But not today, and not for a long while.

As they watched the Hope's Blade prepare to leave, he was increasingly more concerned with what he saw happening in her mind. Flashes of thought spiraled through the darkness like sparks caught in gale force winds. Angel was going to throw her entire civilization back into their dark ages as opposed to bringing them fully out of it, which is what she had originally set out to do, all because of what had happened out here. Things beyond her Empire weren't as she had hoped or dreamed and it stung her deeply, forcing her onto one of the only paths she knew of. Their ships would be automated as defense and all tech returned to their original cultures. All the slaves would be freed and compensated, and left to rebuild their lives after so many years of hardship. That was all well and good, except it would put Thymion at a population of just under 2,000,000 with a distinct technological disadvantage with hostiles breathing down their necks. Their former population was over twenty-eight billion. They would return to the days before the plague, with no tech and trusting everyone at their word.

With little-to-no tech to defend themselves with, the civilizations that Angel retaliated against would most likely finish what they started. That was what Marsh saw. But now was not the time to bring that up and to try and explain to her the nuances of just why they most likely wouldn't make another attempt. At the end of the day, that was not his problem nor his responsibility, he decided as he forwarded all of this on to Sonja, who then passed it on to Trillian via wetware comms. The Ranger had merely been put in a bad situation that had just gotten worse with each passing hour. Now it was all coming to a head and they still had to make certain that the Thymion ship would abide by the terms of their release and not attempt to attack the Watchful Eye. The Synths had already been talked out of going to war with Thymion and Marsh knew that if so much as a single laser shot left that destroyer, they would be reduced to a flaming hulk with a Synthenoid super dreadnought squadron and their support ships bearing down on the Thymion Empire, teeth bared.

The klaxon sounded and everyone cleared the hangar as the Hope's Blade was released from its magnetic leash, the massive blast doors of the auxiliary hangar sliding open to reveal the star speckled vacuum of space beyond. The destroyer slipped free of the Watchful Eye's grip, its drives spooling up to full when they reached the 1,000 kilometer waypoint at which point, the ship turned towards home, opened her rift and shot away. As they were watching the ship make good its escape before the Synths could change their minds, Trillian sent Owen a brief message updating them on what had happened. He was a bit perturbed by the turn of events, but his shared relief that things would soon be over was noticeable.

Everyone was aware that breaking a person could be done, but a Thymion wolf would not be broken so easily as that. So they stayed on alert, suspicious about what Angelica was going to do next. His next message went out to Jashen who was still aboard the Ranger, packing away the medibay's contents to be moved across to the Vanguard for transport back to base.

''Doctor Jashen, please prepare to receive Angelica for removal of the Psy-Suppressor.'' Trillian transmitted through his wetware.

''Uh, you sure about that, Sir?'' The orc replied warily.

''Yeah. Her condition's worsened. It's time to bite the bullet once more and remove it soon as.''

''I'll get things ready.''

''Much appreciated, Jashen. Is Captain Hartman there yet?''

''On the bridge as we speak, preparing the necessary paperwork for the Ranger's last cruise whilst he's dealing with the Synth overwatch.''

''Excellent. We'll be there in five. Spears out.'' He replied, cutting the line as he watched Angelica. She was staring after her destroyer, even as the doors closed, standing at the observation window in the gallery that overlooked the hangar. Trillian laid a hand on her shoulder and she turned a blank stare on him. He cast a look at Marsh who was looking a little more agitated. By rule of thumb, if someone like him started to get agitated about something, things had already gone beyond critical. He looked back at Angelica, his brow creasing. The woman was completely calm, with no emotional response to anything. She was standing as her wings began to lax off, touching the ground. That was enough for Trillian. He knew enough to know that no Thymion wolf would ever let their feathers be tarnished by anything without a fight.

Trillian reopened the comms line to Jashen, his voice tense as he spoke, ''I'm declaring a medical emergency. Prep an EHP for the Empress.''

''Aye, Sir.'' Jashen replied.

Trillian looked to Angelica just in time to see her eyes roll up in her skull as she went limp and started convulsing. He caught her in his arms and lay her down on the decksole, cradling her head as Sonja helped him lessen the physical damage she was doing to herself during her seizing. Marsh motioned for one of the posted guards to get a medic and an emergency release on the Ranger's pinnace the moment it returned to the Watchful Eye. One of the guards vanished through the door, coming back a few moments later with a medical team in tow. With no choice but to explain, Marsh told the Synth medical unit what he had seen in her mind and what he thought the stone was in her chest, adding on why the Psy-Suppressor was in place. The moment the pinnace arrived, its drives flaring brightly as it swung about on the landing pad, ready for an emergency take off, they got Angelica down to the small ship and stowed safely in short order, fresh medical scans logged into Trillian's datapad for Jashen to review.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was half an hour later that they had Angel in an EHP again. Though this time it was for something far worse than some burns. Whatever stresses she was masking with that calm outward appearance had sent her in to a miscarriage. It had happened in such a way that the combined efforts of the Ranger's medical team could do nothing to resuscitate the infant, even after performing an emergency c-section to free it for intensive care when in utero treatment failed. Angelica herself became unresponsive as her seizure had ruptured numerous blood vessels throughout her body. Though her mind stayed just as calm, her body was a total mess. She was immediately put back in the EHP, her body supported by the nourishing fluid and medications they IV'ed into her. After all that, his medical crew dismissed so they could board the Vanguard, Jashen was still stood to one side, datapad in hand, updating his medical notes on her.

Trillian and Owen were there, standing back as he made some adjustments to the system. Marsh was sitting on a stool in the corner, his battle armor back on its rack in the shipboard barracks. He had his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets as he watched Jashen, listening with half an ear to Angelica's quiet mind. Sonja stood by the door, silently watching the pod. She was half expecting it to burst open and the woman inside to come flying out in a blind fury to tear the place to pieces.

''She's stable, but there's no sign that she'll recover any time soon. If she hasn't come to by the end of the week, then we'll have to call the Hope's Blade back and hand her over to her own people for further treatment.'' Jashen said.

''Will she make a full recovery?'' Owen asked.

Jashen nodded, ''Oh yes. Physically, she'll be healthy. Mentally, I'm not so sure. She's had a big enough culture shock as it is and a miscarriage is the unthinkable happening. To combine the two? I'd be amazed if she doesn't go off the deep end the moment the sedatives start wearing off. Are you sure you don't want to reinstall the Psy-Suppressor?''

Owen and Trillian exchanged looks.

''We're sure.'' Trillian said.

''The Suppressor was possibly the last straw for her.'' Owen replied. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. As much as he disliked Angelica, he had nothing against the child and such an outcome for her was unfair regardless of the overall situation, ''Just like her stubbornness was the last straw for us.'' He added bitterly without thinking. He sighed an exhausted apology the moment the words were out of his mouth.

''She pushed and we pulled, and it put her on her face, so-to-speak.'' Marsh added from his corner. ''A harsh lesson, but a needed one.''

''You're a real stain on the galaxy's anus, Corporal.'' Sonja murmured absently. She got a flash of a smile from him and she waved him off. She wasn't in the habit of arguing with someone when they were right.

Jashen turned around, his expression grim, ''What will you do when she wakes up? She'll tear this ship apart and I doubt she'll stop at you. She may even destroy any Synth ships near by. She has more than just psychic power you know.''

''Sonja...?'' Owen prompted cautiously.

''Aye, the moment she shows signs of waking up, I'll whisk her away to rampage all she wants.'' She replied with a nod. She looked to Marsh who was still staring studiously at the EHP pod, ''Corporal, keep a very close eye on her. The moment you feel that she's stirring, tell me without hesitation and then bail from the ship.''

Marsh's head swiveled. He glanced at Sonja, then looked at Owen and Trillian. They were on board with the idea and Jashen remained silent, so he nodded.

''Even the slightest suspicion and you'll know.'' He said. ''But I don't think she'll be waking up of her own accord.''

''Well, with that sorted out, I'm loathe to leave you all at such a time, but I must check that everyone's aboard the Vanguard before I head across to it myself to make my final report of this voyage. Captain Burac's waiting on us two so he can give the order to ship out. You sure you'll manage the Ranger with just the three of you?'' Owen said. For the last hour, the crew of the Ranger, including all remaining cargo, spares, food supplies and medical supplies had been offloaded onto the dreadnought. The process had started the moment the other Shadow Stalkers vessel had come into range, the pursers loading up both attack shuttles as if they were microfreighters and sending everything off to be stowed away.

Trillian shrugged, a half-hearted, lopsided grin forming, ''If this is the end of the line for me, then so be it. Just remember the Ranger fondly. None of this is her fault. It's mine, so if you must curse a name, curse mine.''

''No chance.'' Owen replied, ''Not after our shipwrights argued High Command into naming our new multi-role destroyer class after you. The Hero of Firmament doesn't get off that easily.''

''Excuse me?'' Trillian said, the EHP temporarily forgotten as his mind stalled.

''It's called the Spear Class and has all the new toys. Plus, Ranger has been made a Legacy Name and the moment this old girl is officially decommissioned, the new Ranger sets sail for her first taste of active duty.'' The ferret cocked his head curiously, ''You haven't checked your inbox the last two days, have you?''

''To be honest, I've been sending everything to spam after the last messages I got from NavSec. They weren't what you'd call polite about my current situation.''

Owen slapped him on the back reassuringly and nodded to the EHP, ''Let's try and make this at least a neutral ending all round, eh?''

Trillian nodded numbly, still trying to absorb all the information.

''Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander Spears. It's a high honor to have a ship class named after you.'' Jashen said warmly. He handed another datapad to the bewildered tiger, ''This is all the accumulated data on Angelica's health. I've programmed the EHP to alert the bridge's passive sensor suite when there's a change. If the PsyNet was still online, I'd have programmed that to oversee this task as you won't be going into the slipstream since Chief Thaslon's taken the slipdrive offline in preparation for its removal. Good luck Sir. And for all that's happened, I hold no ill feelings towards you. You're a fine officer, and mark my words that Admiral Gensu will be seeing time in an EHP of his own for sending a destroyer to do a sensor corvette's job.'' The orc saluted, grabbed his duffel from a nearby table and left the medibay.

''He's right you know. A destroyer shouldn't have been sent out to do a sensor corvette's job, especially a destroyer as old as this crewed by people on the brink of burnout. We were ill equipped for the task at hand and now we're paying for High Command's screw-up. You're a fine officer. It's been an honor serving with you, it really has.'' Owen said, handing Trillian the command wand, a slim, silvery tube six inches in length. ''You have the ship, Ex. Take care of her on her last run.'' Owen finished, his otherwise calm tone underscored by a current of tightly controlled emotion. He saluted Trillian and then the two shook hands. The ferret then left without further words, heading to the quarter deck to board the pinnace, leaving the retired destroyer for the last time.

Trillian stood speechless for a moment, his mind reeling, a storm of emotions warring for dominance. He then thought about what Marsh had said and pulled himself back together, and asked, ''What's the status of the PsyNet?''

''It's still there, lurking just beyond the horizon. I'm pretty sure it's wrapped itself around the datacore to protect it.'' Marsh said, switching his attention from Angelica to the PsyNet. ''Mm. Has been since she boarded. It seems scared that she'll pillage the datacore. Can't say I blame it, she's invaded everyone else's mind.''

''Okay. We have one week and no more before the Synths get annoyed with us. Everyone's aboard the Vanguard, including the would-be mutineers. So, here's what we're going to do.'' Trillian said, ''Corporal Marsh, keep an eye on Angelica. What Major Shira said about her showing signs of waking up still stand, got it?''

''Aye Captain.'' Marsh said, bringing himself out of his slouch to stand at attention.

''Major Shira, go see if you can bring the PsyNet out of hiding. With the Vanguard here, it won't be much longer until Captain Burac requests permission to transfer all the data to the Vanguard's own datacore. And we'll most likely need the PsyNet, because, like Marsh said, I get the feeling we won't be able to wake the Empress by conventional methods, and the sooner I get her off this ship, the happier I'll be. We may need the PsyNet to do it for us. I want you to try and persuade it to do so.''

''Rather it than me.'' Sonja said with a thin smile.

Trillian agreed whole heartedly. He tapped the datapad against his knuckles as he thought, staring at the EHP. ''I'll head to the bridge, re-register myself as Captain and get things in order. I'll let Fleet Lord Sharna know what we intend on doing and that it may involve calling the Hope back.''

''You got some serious gear-greasing to do on that front, Cap.'' Marsh said. He didn't seem fond of the idea of bringing the Thymion ship back so soon after they had already been told to leave.

''Don't I know it. At least they'll be glad to see the back of us.'' Trillian sighed. ''Any questions about your orders?''

The two of them shook their heads. Marsh settled back on his stool as Trillian and Sonja left the medibay, each heading off in opposite directions to set about their tasks.

~~~~~~~~~~

Trillian sat in the command chair, a joy hollowed out by stress filling him as he inserted his command wand into the central console to reassert himself as captain. The ship's systems came out of stand-by, one by one, each going through its boot-up routine, checking for problems and then checking again before finally settling into a state of readiness. Trillian flexed the fingers on his left hand, the fur dissolving into the silver skin beneath. He popped the cover of his left armrest to reveal the tangle of computer circuits within. He brought up the ship's manual, typing in the search parameters for the command chair's circuitry and the accompanying computer system that fed his nest of monitors with the data he needed to operate the ship. He found the helm controls in the manual then located them in the arm of the chair. It was an emergency override, one that was easily accessible from the small monitor down to his left that displayed the helm and drive read-outs. However, for one man controlling the entire ship, that wasn't good enough. The Ranger was capable of operating on a skeleton crew comprising of just the bridge crew and one engineering officer whilst the rest went automated. But Trillian was one man who needed full access to the ship's helm controls.

He found the circuit cluster he was after and pressed his fingertips against it. His wetware lit up and the HUD flooded with data in a millisecond. He groaned, the sudden influx of information flooding his thoughts until his Synth wetware kicked in, taking over and soothing the pain. The flood of data petered out to a steady trickle, allowing him a moment to breathe and clear his mind. He gently urged the ship to move once he had regained his composure and it did so, moving forward to settle in at the new coordinates he had input into the navigation systems. He smiled. At least that went right. He pinged the Vanguard, telling them that he was intending to move another four-thousand kilometers out and the Vanguard gave him the go-ahead. The Ranger moved again, going to quarter sublight and came to a full stop at the new coordinates. The Synthenoid ship, Watchful Eye, kept pace, remaining silent and watching them both intently.