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Rachel's mind came back to the present. Her eyes glowed again as her magic took her over, repairing some of the damage done to her gums by poor hygiene.

''Prince Venomspite has your payment in hand. Get the box from him. It was hers. It has one round left. She created that round to kill herself months ago. Do the universe a favor and put that round where it should have been put a long time ago.'' She added then left the room without further words. As she left the room she called to Billy and Rose that they were leaving immediately to tend religious rites for the dead and to sort out their new friend in the palace medical wards.

''Beware of his schemes! Gensu's got a silver tongue and is not to be trusted!'' Trillian called after her. He sagged in his seat and closed his eyes a moment. His headache was evolving into a migraine. No doubt, Gensu would be the final nail in Thymion's coffin.

The door closed with a soft, final hiss of aging hydraulics and Trillian looked up to see that another of Sonja's Legionnaires had sidled into the wardroom. Trillian leaned back with a sigh. It was all coming to a head now. He had seen something like this was going to happen the moment Angelica had invited herself aboard the Ranger as a delegate of sorts between Thymion and Sterwil. Her mood swings, her narcissism, the continuous invasion of others' minds, the refusal to learn and take advice, and the shake-up in the ship board heirachy had all resulted in an incredibly angry dragon. Owen, sitting at the head of the table to his left, muttered a curse as Sonja hauled Angelica across the table by her lapels, both snarling threats at each other.

''-try me bitch! One word from me. One word and everything you love is ash! Starting with this ship! I can survive the vacuum long enough for pick up. Can you?''

Sonja laughed in Angelica's face, a deep, volcanic rumbling of mirth. The threat was barren to her, nothing more than hollow words to her ears. The dragon's eyes gleamed with victory and flared with an inner power that made Angelica start to squirm to get free, a look of slack-jawed horror slowly smoothing her expression. The wolfess had just realised what kind of mistake she had made and that there was no getting away from the consequences of her actions this time. Sonja had her in an iron grip and the dragon's aura flared violently, the air shimmering around her.

Marsh shifted uncomfortably in his corner as Sonja started her transition into her true form, singing the decksole, destroying her armour and her smartweave as her ruby scales glowed with inner heat, melting everything that touched her. Angelica's eyes flashed dangerously. There was blind rage there. But also fear, deep rooted and primal. Electricity arced up her wings violently and suddenly, threatening everyone in the room, unlike Sonja, who kept her power contained to within a few inches of herself. Trat shielded her face with her datapad, the tips of her ears singing painfully. The two women then vanished in a whirl of sparks and ashes, leaving a thick, stunned silence in their wake.

The last thing uttered before they went was Sonja snarling through a victorious grin: ''Gotcha.''

''Anyone get the feeling Sonja knows something we don't?'' Owen asked irritably, sinking back into his chair after a moment's pause. For his first - if enforced - run as captain, things were turning into more of a shitshow than anyone had initially realised.

Marsh cleared his throat, ''I sensed two things in there. And Major Shira's deffo up to something.''

''Two things in where?'' Owen asked.

''Her. Her Majesty Who's Better Than Us. There's two people in there. I swear it. Just caught a glimpse, but whatever she is, she ain't her. Whatever that thing is, it's good at hiding itself. Until now. Now it's shit-scared and furious. I cannot wait to see the end result.'' He grinned.

''So wait. You're saying that there are two minds in one body?'' Trillian asked, trying for some clarification. He massaged his temples. He had a raging migraine and had found himself daydreaming about being aboard an Undervilde ship for some reason during the meeting.

When Marsh confirmed that that's what he had sensed, the daydream fled and became forgotten as Trillian's mind set to work sorting through the multitude of possibilities of everything he could think of. He couldn't discern what it was he was thinking of. His mind felt clouded as it churned through thoughts that didn't feel like his own, yet were his own. Everything felt disjointed and out of sync somehow, his thoughts a chaotic blurr. He briefly wondered if he was having another anxiety attack. But then his mind cleared and he could focus once more.

The intricate weft and weave of the universe had shifted, her inhabitants blissfully unaware of the second chance they had been given and the dedicated deep space destroyer, S.S.M.A Ranger sailed onwards through the black, oblivious to the future it had just narrowly escaped.

''We are not going to have another Yodalan Incident. The moment they get back, I want answers. All of them.'' Owen grunted, using the mass possession of an entire superdread crew to get his point across.

He had come to the same conclusion that Trillian finally had; that there were things afoot that were wildly out of their control, things that had dragged them along for the ride. The feeling was reinforced when the PsyNet came back online, forming a comfortable blanket across the entire ship with its presence, soothing all the anxious and tired souls aboard. The Ranger was once again immune to the otherworldly dangers of FTL, leaving mechanical and technical failures the only things to be worried about. He made a quick check of the Ranger's location and course, the new path laid out on the holotac that flickered to life before them blinking slowly, the small icons of the Ranger and the following ship tacking along as expected.

''Still on course, Sir.'' Trat said as she studied the display, rubbing the singed tips of her ears, ''And that cloaked ship is still hot on our heels and looking to be unaware of our having spotted them.''

''They are. And they're completely oblivious to us leading them on a roundabout course over to the Tuven Sector.'' Marsh confirmed after a moment of concentration.

''I hope they stay oblivious. Sterwil will not take kindly to a stealthed warship popping up and kicking their peace negotiations in the teeth. We need to get them as far away from the powder keg as possible.'' Trillian added.

''Medibay to the wardroom.''

''Go ahead Jashen.'' Owen replied, keying the comm.

''Major Shira's just popped up with the Empress.'' Jashen replied. He sounded harried and on the verge of berating someone. No doubt Sonja for disturbing his lunch.

''On my way. Trat, get some cream on those ears and then get back to the bridge. If that ship drops out of the slipstream, tell me immediately. Marsh, with us. I want to know what's going on inside Angelica's head before she gets us all killed.'' Owen said as he rose from his chair and left the wardroom, Trillian and Marsh hot on his heels.

~~~~~~

Angelica was dragged swearing into Sonja's realm, pausing only to stare up at the active volcano that dominated the northern horizon, her mouth hanging open in awe for a moment as she took it in. A red giant star was floating at its peak, going through its last stages of life in a roiling inferno of plasma arcs and bursts as the volcano spat and hissed beneath it. Sonja retained a solid grip on Angelica, her feet planted firmly on the barren volcanic rock, glaring down at her. Or the thing that was masquerading as Angelica. Of all the people in the universe, only the Aspects were privy to what had happened and only they could right the balance. And now Sonja knew, she could see it, a roiling miasma of hate and bitterness enshrouding the wolf.

This creature, this thing, had evaded death for so long on all fronts and had stolen so many souls during its many rampages, that the balance of the universe had been terribly damaged. It was time to fix that. Time to strip the miserable creature of its life and cast it into oblivion to be annihilated and erased from the fabric of the universe. When such a drastic imbalance occurred, it was up to the Aspects to right it again. And so, they were doing so.

Kronmos, an Aspect of Time had put this all to council when Sonja had presented the problem in person after having sensed something was up after an engineer had been caught attempting suicide to get away from invasive thoughts that were not his own. Everything that had happened afterward had solidified her suspicions about what was going on. As a result of Sonja's presented hunch, every Aspect had gathered, billions of them, and they had all agreed that something needed to be done to right the wrongs the entity had set into motion. And so Kronmos had undone the present and a brief stretch of history, leaving the minds of those involved untouched by future events. All, but the Aspects. The threads of time and space had re-knitted themselves back into their complicated tapestries and things would begin anew from the crux of the final un-balancing.

''I don't know who or what exactly you are, but I do know that you are in possession of something that is not yours.'' Sonja hissed. She spun Angelica around on the spot and held her fast, arms forced immobile at her sides, her wings pinned against Sonja's broad chest. ''But I have been witness to the things you will do and I will not spend this second chance so frivolously by letting such a petty creature bait me. Especially now I know you are not really Angelica. Look.'' Her breath was intolerably hot against her ear, sparks singing the tufts of fur at her cheek. Sonja directed Not-Angelica's attention to the distant horizon. A monolithic quadrupedal creature stalked across the scorched wasteland, head low, each gigantic paw falling silently on the rock it traversed. ''Each species in the universe is a likeness of their Aspects. And Thymion's eldest Aspect of Death is here to help set the proper balance. Magnificent, isn't he?'' She murmured.

Not-Angelica's eyes flew open, wide with hate and fear as the impossibly enormous black wolf came closer, shrinking its size down until it was a mere 40 feet at the shoulder. It paused, ears cocked, glistening smoke pouring from its eyes, its necrotic green claws and fangs bared.

''I can smell you, little demon and those you have so boldly claimed as your own.''

''They are mine!'' Not-Angelica snarled, wild eyed and squirming to get away.

''Delusional to the end. Unsurprising. Tell me: will you scream for me?'' It asked blandly.

Not-Angelica laughed harshly, ''You will get no such pleasure.''

''I take no pleasure in this. It is simply my Creator-given task to harvest souls and send them beyond. I was just curious as past possession cases like this have always resulted in the creature screaming even after they promised not to.''

''If you take me, I will drag this wretch and her unborn spawn with me.''

''You can try.'' The wolf replied in its rumbling tones. It then seemed to notice Sonja for the first time and switched to its own language, a tongue forged of creation itself, ''Greetings Lady Firewing. I thank you for allowing me access to your realm for something so trivial.''

''No thanks are needed Lord Soulfang. It is a necessity and I'm glad you agreed to it.'' Sonja replied. The language hurt Angelica's mind and a trickle of blood slid from the corners of her ears as the words glided across her psyche like hot knives.

''How could I turn it down?'' Soulfang replied softly, his dark eyes flashing with the power of death.

Sonja held Not-Angelica fast as he reached a clawtip out. The stone buried in her chest glowed hotly and heaved as Soulfang seized the entity with his presence and started to gently pull. Not-Angelica screamed obscenities as it felt its grip on Angelica start to fray at the edges. Its aura flared and softened, the tethers keeping it in place snapping, allowing the suppressed souls within to start wriggling free. It tried regaining its grip on Angelica and made a bid for the unborn child, but Soulfang was there, sliding inexorably around the entity, shearing off its grip and blocking its retreat as it tried to hide itself in the maelstrom of souls that raged around it. The trillions of souls screamed in response to the Aspect of Death's touch, raising an unholy cacophony that set Not-Angelica to squirming and crying in anguish in Sonja's uncompromising grip once more.

Bit by bit, the entity was undone and it quickly found itself being pushed out by Angelica herself, the pent up rage and violence of its victim unleashed with a fury even Sonja would appreciate. The Death Aspect grinned, it's prey being forced from its unwilling host. A fine red mist stretched like ribbon from the stone and hissed against Soulfang's extended clawtip like cold water hitting a searing hot skillet. A high, keening wail went up as it was forced away from its host, a storm of souls funnelling around its stretched life force. The stone, or what remained embedded in Angelica shattered at its parting. Fragments were propelled outward with the force of an exploding frag grenade only to dissipate like mist.

Angelica convulsed once in Sonja's grip and the entity was torn asunder, cast into Oblivion, its very nature undone. The thing that had once claimed the Empress of Thymion as its own tool of destruction ceased to exist in any known realm and universe. It was gone, never to be summoned and never to be reborn in this lifetime or the next. It simply no longer existed, its essence erased and forgotten. The souls it had captured were sent into the Beyond to face their afterlives or purgatories. Angelica was free to live her life and bear her child, and Thymion would see the end of the universe at its own pace.

The un-balancing had been averted this time and the fabric of the universe, those billions of Aspects who kept it ticking over, heaved a sigh of relief as the future settled into a more correct position. Sonja whisked the now unconscious but free Empress Angelica from her realm and back to the Ranger to be greeted by a stunned Orc with a spoonful of rehydrated pork soup halfway to his mouth, a datapad clasped in his free hand. Jashen sighed, dumped his spoon in his bowl and set up an EHP, all the while grumbling at Sonja about her telling him how to do his job as she cradled the limp wolfess in her powerful arms.

Angelica's body was already starting to shift, her formerly over developed arm muscles relaxing considerably as her wings folded on their own, tucking against her back. Her messy hair began to sparkle in the medical bay lights. Her constant frown softened into a gentle face and what looked like decades of worry lines and wrinkles began to fade as Sonja looked at her.

~~~~~~

Angelica felt her power surging the moment they entered Sonja's realm. Her magic, her psychic ability, her regeneration. Everything increased ten fold and kept increasing. She resisted the creature that tried to cling to her, even as she felt another great power approaching. She pushed, trying to use her newfound strength to force it out.

She didn't notice what was happening, who was present. Until she felt the touch of Soulfang. She knew the power of death. Had felt it before. But this deathly touch was the strongest she had ever felt. It was death itself, pure and potent. And, she thought, if she was to die, she was going to die as herself, not this monster that clung to her.

Angelica surged forward, forcing it from her mind and screaming as she hurled all her power and rage at it. Forcing it to let go as it was pulled out of her. But so much power expended, she passed out. Her mind went dark and she felt no pain anymore. She was alone in her head, at long last.

~~~~~~

The EHP surrounding Angelica felt so strange. Her mind was muddled, feeling like it was clogged with cotton balls and radio static. Memories mixed with garbage and broken dreams. Emotions warred with each other briefly before petering out and leaving her feeling hollow and exhausted. She felt the warm, nourishing liquid of the EHP surrounding her, buoying her up in the coffin-like chamber's center. Panic began to rise in her as she thought she may be drowning, but the feeling fled when she sucked down a deep breath of fresh air. She tried to wriggle experimentally. Then she began to realize that her body would not respond to her attempts to move, her muscles remaining stubbornly relaxed and unresponsive under the influence of a powerful medication that had no doubt been tailored for her physiology. She could not struggle nor could she escape. But she could just about think through the muddle of her memories. It was so strange. She had barely had a chance in the last 20 years or so to think, to be alone in her own mind with her memories and her thoughts private again. And here she was; cocooned in a cool, thick fluid, the perfect mix of nitrogen and oxygen feeding her, a catheter and various IVs inserted into her body whilst cold nodes were glued to her flesh here and there.

A calm finally settled on her mind as she suddenly thought that she had already died and that her soul was now free.

But no. The rebreather, the IV lines, the little nodes glued to her and the slight discomfort of the catheter all continued to say otherwise, no matter what her panicked brain said. She cleared her mind, wanting to get to the bottom of all this. As she tried to focus, she felt the world around her slowly open up to her tired mind. The PsyNet was the first thing she felt. It was so vast and deep and intimidating, and yet as she mentally stroked it, it was more like a plush blanket on her mind. It did not recoil from her or threaten her as it had the entity. She did not pry into it for secrets nor did she try to pass its defenses to gather its secrets. She only acknowledged that it was there and that it was protecting the ship, any hostility it had being projected outward to the slipstream beyond. It was a defensive posture, protecting the ship and its inhabitants from the creatures beyond and nothing more. She felt strangely comforted by its presence.

She felt smaller as she began to notice other, bright minds all around her, interspersed with the occasional blank spot of the psy-immune. Calculations, daydreams, ideas, each like a supernova. Jokes, rebuttals, bickering, dreams and fantasies all wove around her in a colourful pattern of a warship underway. There were so many of them surrounding her, the whispering susurrations of life in motion. These minds were so bright and full of life. She found herself sliding past each in curiosity, only barely touching them without intruding. Some were psychically inert, others were fully psychic and noticed her passing with curiosity, sometimes offering up a greeting or a query to her health, whereas a few were wary and turned away from her in distrust. Regardless of the latter, the overall mood of the ship and its crew had shifted drastically, with the exception of a handful of souls that were locked up deep within the vessel, brooding over their future.

She whispered replies to each question and moved away swiftly, a sudden shyness tinged with shame overcoming her. After all that had happened, she did not want to invade them, just merely observe what they showed her as she slid past each, but after the entity, it was difficult. She briefly turned her mind elsewhere, remembering something incredibly important that thing had put into motion. Beyond, far astern of the Ranger she could just about sense her family, their presence heavily muffled. They were so close and yet outside of her reach at the moment, their psychic presence cunningly blocked by the PsyNet. She moved on, bringing her mind back inside the old warship and suddenly felt the presence. A massive presence, hot as hell fire and as bright as star. It almost burned her mind to slide past it. It was massive, a huge mind compared to the others, its power as deep as the PsyNet's. Were these people captured like her? Had she passed into an afterlife? With so many different species and arcane attunements on board the ship, it could be possible she had accidentally stumbled into a ritual being practiced somewhere aboard during her exploration. Yet she could still sense the tiny life inside her, growing slowly, its tiny heart beating in tune with her own. Yes, she was still alive. It was just her confused mind, the strange environment of this ship and the new presence that had settled in somewhere directly ahead of her.

~~~~~~

It was so calm and quiet in her mind now. After a moment she felt the mind of someone close, so close she felt she could touch them. There was another, far more powerful mind, off to her left somewhere. It felt like a rabid beast caught up in a deep slumber. She ventured a stronger flourish of her power, giving the more peaceful of the two beings a mental nudge. She found that it was a medical officer. A healer that carried a minor trace of magical energy about him. She tried to be slow and gentle as she spoke to his mind.

''Where... am... I? Am... I ...dead?'' She asked. She was still unsure, unable to grasp reality whilst locked up in the tank of warm slime.

Her telepathic voice was as soft as a whisper and bright as life itself. It was a song, as all Thymion Wolves actually sang to each other, both audibly and telepathically. Their language was music. She waited silently, wondering if he would have even noticed with how small her own mind felt compared to his.

The orc looked up from his tablet. He had heard her perfectly, but due to his long hours of duty he was so tired that he was not certain if she had actually reached out to him specifically. He looked at the hunched form of Marsh in the far corner, his chin pressed into his gorget, a soft, bubbling snore rippling the oily surface of his face as he slept. Jashen replied regardless of who she was trying to contact, feeling the edges of her relief lingering against his psyche as he spoke to her with his mind, something he had become accustomed to during his years with the Shadow Stalkers.

''You are currently aboard the Shadow Stalkers deep space destroyer, Ranger. You're being held in an EHP - an emergency healing pod, a sort of medical stasis bed. You're submerged in a tank of H-Bac, a nourishing fluid that can be tailored to heal various biologies and physiologies. Try not worry. You won't drown, not while you're on life support as you are now. And you're in there because the entity that was possessing you took quite a toll on your physical body. It's removal has left a sizeable wound in your chest, which is healing quite nicely considering the nature of the injury. Your mental faculties, whilst low for the moment, seem to be intact. Please, do not attempt to invade other's minds. After everything that's happened, I guarantee it won't end well. If you wish to speak, speak to me or Corporal Marsh. One of us can act as your voice for the time being if neccessary.'' He spoke to her in slow, measured words, hoping that she was lucid enough to understand. Jashen got the distinct impression that her psyche was more mature than he had initially thought it would be after his long conversations with Marsh and various other psychics aboard. But it was still childlike in it's concepts. It understood some of what he said, but other parts were beyond her grasp.

''Am I safe? Can I see my family?'' She asked softly.

''You're fine. Your ship is oblivious to what's going on, but you're safe now.'' He said. He moved away from his desk, crossing the medibay to study the panels on her assigned EHP, ignoring Corporal Marsh who still dozed on a stool in the corner, blissfully unaware of the largely one-sided exchange that had happened. There was a drastic increase in her beta brainwave patterns and nothing more. Everything remained stable. Jashen made a note of it before he called for Trillian, Owen and Sonja. The Empress's mind was finally awake and active after a long week of recovering. Jashen kicked Marsh and growled for him to straighten himself up. There was a brief exchange of insults, but the Bressis was on his feet and wide awake in seconds. He stared at the occupied EHP, a swirl of green moving across his blank face, displaying curiosity. He could feel her mind, curious and wanting to explore, but also confused and frightened like a lost child. He cocked his head and let out a low chuckle, garnering a withering look from Jashen.

That's exactly what she was.

As the information finally started to sink in, Angelica's final reaction was a mixture of relief and worry. Her mind fell silent when the medibay doors slid open and three figures strode in: Owen with his rank back at Lieutenant Commander and Trillian wearing the bar and pips of a Captain once more. Sonja, wearing a fresh ship suit, her expression as bland as ever strode in behind the two.

During the week, when the truth of the possession had spread throughout the ship, quelling any rumours and putting tall stories to bed, the hierarchy had shifted back for the time being. Trillian was still set to retire, a black mark against his name but that would only go into effect the moment the Ranger docked at the Blackwell shipyard for her decommissioning ceremony. For now, he retained the authority that came with the rank and the crew had been unanimous about reinstalling him as acting captain, much to Owen's relief. Owen's run as an executive officer was only a few years old and now he had had a taste of captaincy, he found he was sorely underprepared for it. The would-be mutineers, Battery Chief Astran and a trio of his subordinates, were still sitting in the brig, ready to be handed off to a Shadow Stalkers MP unit, but otherwise things were back to the way they had been; an exhausted crew on the verge of a burnout making the most of what they had with the time that they had to do it all in.

Trillian had already started writing a letter of commendation concerning the Ranger's crew. Four years ago, they had set sail from Blackwell and had taken on one of the most difficult sets of contracts they had seen thus far; the breaking of Cear'tath, liberating a Connaru outpost much to Sterwil's disgust, then on to chasing an Oshanu dreadnought's pilfered datacore across the quadrant. Not many weeks afterwards, they had made a stop over at a garden world over in the Tuven Sector, getting caught up in a brief, vicious skirmish between Tuven forces and an invading pirate fleet. Trillian had found himself rallying and leading a broken defense force in a last ditch attempt to protect Firmament, a giant Tuvenese shipyard, from a squadron of pirate cruisers and dreadnoughts. Then, right on the heels of that, without so much as a moment to breathe and make some much needed repairs, Admiral Gensu had ordered the exhausted and battered Ranger into Thymion on a tracking contract from Oshanus. Somehow, after four years of shit being thrown at them, they had all made it out alive, if a little worse for wear.

After thinking on all of that, the crew had come to an agreement a few days ago; their luck had been solid up until Thymion. Something had to give and it had. Shit had happened and now it was time to move on, especially now the truth of their current situation was out. It was time to cut their overburdened captain and executive officer a break and press forward.

''That her?'' Trillian asked.

He could hear a faint whisper of a voice at the edge of hearing. It was soft and gentle, a far cry from the monotone screams and sharp claws the previous being had. This was almost welcome, as it did not attack their mental defenses, nor attempt to slide around them like a caustic net. It simply brushed up against them and posed a simple question. The lack of force behind it made Trillian appreciate the fact they could now speak to the real Empress, though he was still guarded. After everything that had gone down, the vague, lingering feeling of a hail of bullets being dodged, he found his trust in her difficult to muster.

Not that he had had much trust in the first place, regardless of the situation.

''Yes, we hear you, Your Grace.'' Trillian said. But again, the question repeated. He replied again, but once more the question was repeated. He was frustrated, fatigue dulling the sharpness of his mind, feeling like he had exchanged one broken record for another. A power mad despot, was the former. This was a timid young woman with a great of power at her disposal. They had welded one door shut and kicked in another without so much as peeking through the letter box.

Jashen spoke up, ''At present she can only speak psychically. We need to reply in kind as there's too much H-Bac in her ears for any sound to get through to her and she doesn't understand the written form of Basic, so the HUD is useless.''

Marsh cocked his head as he listened and Trillian pressed his fingers into his eyes, trying to alleviate some of his exhaustion. The Bressis could see her mind clearly, a whirlwind of confusion as she struggled to slot pieces in place. She was not guarded. He saw the images of the family she remembered and the gentle caress of love. But also the strong defense of each other.

''Ah. She wants to see her family. And from what I can glean from her mind, some of them are no doubt on the ship tailing us.'' He said. Jashen nodded in confirmation of what Marsh had said, ''They should respond if hailed, though. She seems to think they'll panic and try to catch up. She thinks they'll be confused.'' He said as he mentally examined her. He could feel her mind hovering close to his, but not trying to intrude. She was clinging to the most similar person to herself, trying to find safety. Marsh reeled from her. He felt like he was being chased by an all-you-can-eat buffet and a deep hunger gnawed at his core. It had been weeks since Ushan had been sent home to recover, which meant it had been weeks since Marsh had had a good meal. If he started feeding now, he wouldn't be able to stop and he would drain Angelica dry, latching onto her mind like an unshakable leech.

''Not sure I'm willing to let anyone else board my ship.'' Trillian muttered, ''Especially someone who's been stalking us.''

Owen nodded in agreement. The Ranger was badly wounded and running on field repairs and her crew running on rations. One hour ago, the heatsinks had hit their maximum capacity and would need to be vented soon, before the drives broke down and the crew were cooked. Their slipdrive was a year overdue a full inspection and service, making FTL flight more hazardous than usual. As for their general supplies - food, water, medical etc, things were bleak. The Ranger needed to dock for a major resupply just so she could make it home or die of starvation, both organically and mechanically. If the trailing ship was intent on carrying out hostilities regardless of whether Angelica was on board or not, the Ranger would barely survive, if at all. Thymion built their ships, like all species, to their natural size, which meant that one race's destroyer was another's cruiser. And what was chasing them, though slower, was a damn sight more potent in the weapons department due to lack of not coming into contact with any of the regulations that dictated when a warship became a warcrime.

The Ranger could outrun the Thymion ship, both on sublights and in the slipstream - he checked his wetware, connecting to the sensor net, seeing that the Thymion ship was struggling, even whilst coasting in the Ranger's wake, but right now, they could only match them with their anti-matter warheads. Owen looked to Trillian and pitied him for having to make such decisions. One day, Owen would find himself making equally difficult decisions, but for now, he was just an advisor, a second-in-command and a student. The final decision was out of his control. Finally, Trillian spoke, his words hard and measured.

''We'll see about it. It all depends on what that other ship has in mind.'' He turned to Sonja, ''Major Shira, stay put for now, but have your Legionnaires on stand-by. I want them ready for a fight. Who, but her, knows what other kind of hell these people will bring with them if they decide to become hostile in other ways.''

''If they do decide to shoot at us, Captain?'' Sonja asked.

Trillian gave her a flat look, ''I am in no mood to have this ship or her crew's record tarnished any more than it already is, is that understood?''

''Aye, Sir. Understood.'' Sonja said, saluting.

''We'll be staying in the slipstream for a while longer. We're almost at our destination and we're using up much less resources than we would be using whilst in realspace. So sit tight a little longer.'' The tiger added, speaking to Jashen.

''I don't have much else to do, Sir.'' The orc replied amiably and went back to his work.

''First shift starts in ten minutes. I'll be on the bridge if you need me. Owen, I suggest you go get some sleep and food. You look like death warmed over.''

The ferret saluted weakly and left the medibay silently. Trillian studied the EHP for a moment longer. Angelica had gone silent again. The tank's readouts said that she had fallen asleep. He nodded to the two Legionnaires and left for the bridge. He still had an awful lot of work to catch up on.

The bridge was quiet with busy work and Trillian sat wreathed in the bitter scent of various caffeinated beverages that permeated the small space. He eyeballed his own anti-spill mug. It was half empty, the remainder of the caf going ignored. It was the powdered stuff reserved for emergencies, when rations were growing too thin. It tasted awful but the buzz it gave him lasted hours. It had been two weeks now since they'd had to break into the ship's emergency store and the grimaces of each sip was a warning that if he didn't sort it out soon, he'd end up with another mutiny attempt on his hands.

He looked to his engineering readouts. Thaslon had safely managed to vent the heatsinks to three-quarters their capacity, but could do no more whilst in the slipstream. It was not much, but it was far better than nothing and helped put an end to certain gripes about the temperature. He'd spent a solid four days catching up on work, reviewing Owen's reports from his short stint as captain and comparing them with more up-to-date information. What he was reading now turned his stomach. Hull integrity was dropping by the day. The various patches sealing the Ranger's wounds were eroding under the stresses of FTL and bouts of prolonged stealth manoeuvres hadn't helped. It had been the liberation of Cear'tath that had cost them the most: a long rent in the hull, edged by a multitude of small holes ran from the fore of the drive block right up to midships. It was the result of a beam weapon attack. The holes surrounding it were the end result of said beam weapon attack igniting a missile battery's magazine. Thankfully the crews had seen what was going to happen and the targeted compartments had been evacuated and sealed off with seconds to spare. There had been severe injuries but no deaths, thanks to Jashen and his medical team. They had had a healthy store of military grade prosthetics up until that point. Now they had none left, thanks to Sterwil's good aim.

Trillian leaned back and rubbed an eye, his mind going over his dwindling options. They were now well inside Tuven controlled space. Firmament was a paltry 14AU galactic north-west and 2.4 degrees negative of the ecliptic. It would take two weeks to get there. Less, if they swallowed their pride and broadcasted their predicament, requesting a tow from one of their tugs. He looked back at the engineering panel and thought about the oblivious Hope's Blade that was still riding the currents of the slipstream to keep up. The Ranger desperately needed to drop out of FTL before the turbulence and stresses of superluminal speeds started tearing chunks out of her hide.

''Chief Bracken, prepare to exit the slipstream. I want us to be in realspace in one hour from now. Lieutenant Lussan, I am going to compose a message for you to send via a coded tightbeam to Firmament. The moment we hit realspace, send it. Trat, Vulwen: keep your eyes on the Hope. I want a defensive posture if she decides to exit with us. If they open fire, we retaliate to disable, not to kill. We have some serious things to discuss with them. Is that clear?'' He said, looking from face to face, his gaze lingering on Freehan who sat at the weapons station.

The skink nodded his assurance and Trillian sat back and started composing his message to Firmament. Every-now-and-then, he'd feel Angelica's strengthening curiosity flit across the bridge. Otherwise, all was quiet with the exception of Chief Thaslon down in engineering as he swore about breakages and how slow the fabricators were going. Trillian became so absorbed in his work he lost track of time.

''Afternoon, Captain.'' Owen said as he settled in at his station.

''Afternoon Ex. We're hitting realspace in-'' He checked his chrono, ''five minutes. Start the countdown, Miss Bracken.''

''Aye Captain, starting the five minute countdown.'' The black bear said from the helm.

Trillian turned back to Owen, ''How's things downstairs?''

''Jashen says Her Grace is making a good recovery, though he daren't remove her from the EHP just yet through fear of harming the baby. He says another three days and he'll consider it. Whatever really went on when Sonja stole her away, I don't know. But I do know that while she's physically healthy, mentally, she's still churned up.''

''Which is the root of Jashen's concern. Wake her up fully and we run the risk of unleashing a psychic storm.'' Trillian muttered thoughtfully.

Angelica was only partially sedated, mostly due to the fact that she was unconscious when Sonja delivered her to the medibay. The partial sedation came from past experiences in dealing with psychics who had suffered some form of mental trauma or another. To leave them lucid and without the influence of a powerful sedative was inviting trouble on the scale they were currently ill prepared to cope with. And who knew what terrible things that creature had been whispering into Angelica's ear since it had seized control. Having a powerful psychic semi-concious helped the mind rebuild itself. If they were sedated fully, it was almost as effective as locking them away in a cage, leaving them to go mad. Letting them feel the goings on outside helped them reaffirm some form of daily routine and the mind loved routine. It was a pattern it could understand, thus making healing easier.

Trillian sent his message across to Lussan who immediately queued it up for sending. The ship vibrated gently around them, a soft quiver of pain echoing through its superstructure. Everyone on the bridge exchanged a nervous glance. The Ranger was starting to protest about being in the slipstream and they felt the subtle shape of the PsyNet shift its grip around them, as if trying to physically hold the destroyer together.

The five minute countdown ended and the Ranger plunged back into realspace in a plume of exotic particles, golds, silvers, blues and violets cascading from its black and green hull in a halo of glittering colour. The gills all across the hull snapped open and heat poured from the destroyer, lighting up the FLIR sensors, blinding them. The Hope's Blade followed suit, the turbulence of its re-emergence setting its crew's teeth on edge as the rift generators and their stabilising systems struggled to cope with the slipstream spitting them out so suddenly. Rift generators were not designed to deal with the stress of any other FTL corridor but its own and a low moan of stressed alloys reverberated through its corridors and compartments. A corona of colour exploded around the golden ship and it lurched hard in space, almost tumbling as the crew struggled to right themselves. Ahead of it, the Ranger sent out its request for aid and turned to bare its flank at the Thymion ship, rolling to show its belly plates as it did so. The Ranger's shields flickered to life and the PDCs were uncapped along with the railguns.

The Hope's Blade seemed to lag behind, but eventually powered up her own weapons, a psychic barrier forming around the ship. They moved with their opponent, but kept a moderate distance. The Ranger cruised in its defensive position at just below superluminal speeds, the Thymion ship hurrying to keep up.

A broadcast went out from the Shadow Stalkers ship and precious moments passed in a standoff silence until the Hope's Blade deigned to answer the hail.

''Thymion warship, Hope's Blade, I am Captain Trillian Spears, commanding the Shadow Stalkers warship, Ranger. Be aware that we have known about your presence for quite some time and that I am less than pleased by it. I am also assuming you know who we have aboard and that that is the reason for you being here.'' Trillian transmitted.

There was another long pause before the Hope replied, ''Ranger, you will power down your weapons and shields, and return the Empress to us.'' The disembodied voice said sternly and yet, it seemed a touch frightened. The alien ship had slowed some, the gap between them and the Ranger growing.

Trillian and Owen exchanged glances, the ferret looking slightly amused by the demand. It seemed the Thymion destroyer had lost some nerve as its offensive posture shifted slightly towards a more benign posture. It's captain seemed disoriented, assuming this was the captain and not their second-in-command.

''In light of recent events involving Her Grace, I will be doing no such thing.'' Trillian glanced at his sensors and tactical readouts. The Hope, though repositioning itself in a more benign posture, had also oriented herself to get a better shot at the Ranger's drive block and was powering up small weapons, most of which could still heavily damage the old destroyer in its current condition. Trillian's mood soured further and he nodded to Freehan. The missile batteries were uncapped and brought out of standby, each missile tipped with an anti-matter warhead, ''Hope's Blade, anymore hostile actions will be met with lethal force. I am not in the mood to give chances so think your next move through very carefully.''

There was a moment of tense silence as the two ships moved deeper into Tuven space, locked in a standoff. The Thymion ship did a full scan of the Ranger and the old destroyer's ECMs came online, swatting away the other ship's curiosity. Then the Hope's Blade stowed her weapons and the psychic shield dropped.

''I am Captain William 'Bad Billy' Wolfen, commander of the Thymion warship, the Hope's Blade. I am also the father of the Empress. All I want is to know that she is safe and to bring her home. I apologise, Captain Spears for my brashness. We are... having complications currently. A panic set in. We were expecting to see Sterwil, not this place...'' The voice said.

The central view screen lit up with a visual feed to reveal the owner of the voice. It was a husky, maybe around Trillian's age, quite possibly older. It was difficult to tell, he was so worn out. Worry and stress creased his expression and he seemed to be leaning forward in his chair out of anxious reflex. Around him, numerous other crew seemed to be moving about erratically, holding their heads or leaning on consoles. They all looked disoriented, save for one or two that seemed able to move about freely.

''Her Grace is currently healing from a traumatic ordeal and it's not recommended that she be moved or be fully woken up just yet.'' Trillian replied.

Billy nodded in understanding, as if he had been expecting this. His expression glazed slightly for a few seconds and then cleared. Others seemed to also turn toward the side, or look up, their faces softening as whatever bothered them seemed to clear away.

There was a touch of relief pushing its way to the surface of Billy's face. ''She's just told me herself. Thank you Captain. I don't know how to repay you for saving her... is. Is there any chance I could see her? In person? It's been much too long since we were last face to face. And I need to see for myself.''

Trillian shifted in his chair, thinking back to how this had all snowballed out of control in the first place, his ears canting in obvious distaste at the idea. He felt every eye on the bridge on him and his gut tightened. His gaze slid to Bracken. She flicked her ear after a moment. He mulled through his choices some more then turned to Owen, keeping his voice low. There was a brief murmur of discussion before Trillian straightened up again.

''Drop to half sublight, maintain course and prepare for ship-to-ship docking. The first sign of hostility and things will not end well for you, is that clear?''

''It is,'' He said with a bob of the head. He sounded relieved, giddy even, ''Would it be okay if I brought one other with me?''

''Who?'' Trillian asked suspiciously.

''Rosemary. She and Angel are very close. It would no doubt do them both good to see each other.''

Another murmured exchange between Trillian and Owen, this one a little more intense. Then he grudgingly agreed. The last thing he needed was to be backed into a corner again but now was the perfect time to get even more answers for the numerous whys and hows. Especially since they were expecting to turn up in Sterwil Federation controlled space, which did not bode well, considering the seething hostilities between Sterwil and Connarum that just would not end. Again, Trillian had the distinct feeling that a bullet had been dodged, but it didn't silence his suspicion. Only the truth would be able to do that.

''If either of you attempt to board my ship armed, I will see you both spaced. Is that clear?''

Billy looked startled, but he agreed, a mixed look of fear and intense curiosity shining in his eyes. "No weapons sir. But I can't exactly take off claws and teeth. Please be advised that some Thymion wolves have larger claws and teeth than others."

''I am aware of that.'' Trillian said bluntly and nodded to Lussan.

The line cut and the Ranger slowed to below half sublight, righting itself to match the ecliptic plane, forcing the Hope to do the same as it started to close the distance. A warning was put out to all hands and the readiness level dropped from Condition 1 to 2. The ship relaxed a fraction, but the Hope remained target locked. So much had happened in the last four years. And ending up with a possession case on their hands hadn't helped the crew's collective reaction to anything remotely hostile, especially since they couldn't pin down the moment in time the entity had slipped in. The PsyNet had been doing its job of protecting the ship and its crew during FTL transit the whole time, so the entity couldn't have come through the corridor walls. It had to have been picked up elsewhere and thinking back on Captain Meko Dashi's fear of Angelica made Trillian start to believe it had happened in Thymion some time ago.

Why anyone would let a possessed psychic run around and terrorize the place, he didn't know.

''Stow the missiles but keep the railguns and PDCs online.'' Trillian ordered.

He knew, from the change in Billy's composure, that Angelica had psychically contacted him, no doubt to try and assuage his worries. Trillian shifted uncomfortably. He'd get the measure of the man himself when he boarded and make his decision then. He watched as the Hope's Blade oriented itself with the Ranger, lining its own quarter deck airlock up with the Ranger's.

''Ships are oriented and matching speed and course. Docking tube has been extended. Now deploying docking collar... the seal has been successfully formed and we're ready to receive.'' Trat announced. She looked to Ensign Reana sitting at navigation for confirmation. The pachycephalosaur nodded in agreement, her fingers tripping delicately across her workstation's interface, making minor course adjustments for Bracken to follow through on.

''Is Firestorm Squad ready?'' Trillian asked.

Owen nodded, ''Sonja's got her rabble suited up and waiting on the quarter deck as per orders.''

''Excellent. You have the ship, Ex.'' Trillian said and pulled himself out of his chair. It was time to have a quick wash and change into something more formal.

''Aye Captain, I have the bridge.''