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Jashen's office was ensconced in the far corner of the medibay and was just as cramped Trillian's, but the orc had a broad, wall-to-wall view screen covering the entirety of one wall. It was active and all it showed was a view obscured by one of the towing arms of the Harmony of Tildaan. But beyond that great, black blur she could just make out the sleek, predatory form of the Ootlan Fesh flanking the war tug, the Hope's Blade sandwiched neatly between the three ships as they sailed onwards to Firmament. She reached out with her mind and was greeted by her family, a warm, soothing embrace calming her mind.

She reassured them about her health as she sank down into the chair Jashen had pointed out, her ears flattening in embarrassment as her stomach growled loud enough to wake the dead. The orc chuckled as he placed a stainless steel tray in front of her, a large bowl of thick chicken and vegetable soup steaming with heat. Fresh bread rolls smothered in warm butter sat next to the dish and he placed a cup of hot honey and lemon tea next to the tray. Angelica stared at the food, wide-eyed, her nostrils flaring.

''You are allowed to eat it, you know. It's straight from the Hope's stocks, so it's nothing like this,'' He said, sitting down with his own meal and letting the thin re-hydrated pork soup run from his up-ended spoon like murky water.

''You don't want some?'' She asked him meekly, gesturing at her own food.

He waved her off. ''Grandma raised me to have a stomach of tungsten. You haven't tasted Hell until you've tried traditional orc fruit cake. Which, may I add, is in my professional opinion, not recommended. That kind of gastricitis is not something I'd wish on my worst enemy.'' He added wrly and spooned some of the weak soup into his mouth. Angelica watched him for a moment, then glanced back at the view screen. ''It's realtime, not pre-recorded. All view screens are. What you're seeing now is what's actually out there.''

The smell of chicken soup became too much for her to resist for much longer. Her shyness about eating such a rich meal in front of someone eating something that didn't even rate as gruel sloughed from her as she took a tentative sip. It was a thick soup, rich with proteins and nutrients, the vegetables cut chunky and the meat tender. The flavour was awesome and assailed her senses, the fresh bread the perfect addition with the salty butter melting into its soft texture. Before she knew it, she was licking the bowl clean and someone had put a plate of honey glazed meats in front of her. She devoured the lot and the mixed berry pudding that followed puckered the insides of her cheeks with its tart sweetness.

She sat back, her belly full of the best meal she had had in years, nursing the warm tea. Jashen had struck up a conversation with her and she had let slip that in a week's time, it was her birthday and she was frightened about spending it cooped up onboard an alien warship, away from her family. Jashen pointed to the view screen. The Ootlan Fesh had extended a trail of glittering gold and the Hope's Blade had sidled up close behind it, cruising in the large ship's wake, the golden tail warping gently around the Thymion warship.

''The Fesh is preparing for an FTL tow. Which means we are too. In eight hours, we'll hit the slipstream again and be back at Firmament in two days. We're making excellent time.'' He ran some mental calculations and nodded, ''By the time your birthday rolls around, I reckon, if your family and crew behave themselves, they'll be allowed onstation. Firmament's a big place. Tuven's most important shipyard, which means it sees a lot of traffic and trade of all sorts. Naturally, that means the planet's a tourist trap, too and certain parts of the station itself reflect that. Certain parts that we'll be headed to once the Ranger's in dry dock.'' He said cryptically.

Angelica's mind slowly caught on and a small burst of joy blossomed in her chest. Considering Jashen's words, the way he spoke them and the thought processes behind them, she had the feeling that she would finally get to spend a birthday with her friends and family, free of the entity's interference. The orc checked his chrono, put his mug down and stood up.

''Twenty minutes up, I'm afraid. It's time to get back to work.'' He said.

She sobered and nodded, pulling herself out of her chair, following him back to Trillian's office in grim silence.

~~~~~~

''You were describing the events after you began resisting again. If you could enlighten us further...'' Trillian prompted.

''I tried to protect your minds. It forced its way into your thoughts, your secrets. You couldn't keep it out forever, no matter how rigorous your training. I tried to help. The thing violated everyone's most private memories and their darkest secrets. Even taking sick pleasure in forcing me to watch.'' She said. Shame washed through her once more as she saw Trillian's expression stiffen just the slightest. She had seen the fire engulf his his family, himself... ''I don't want to remember any of that. Those aren't my thoughts to know or my secrets to know.'' She said softly, looking away from him.

Feeling a little exposed, Trillian nodded and bade her continue. ''I- I remember Sonja grabbing me. And we went somewhere... I can't remember. It was hot, the hottest place I have ever felt, but it felt good because I could feel the heat. And there was another. A deep voice. Like the sound of drums in a cave beating to the song of the dead. It was deep and wonderful and calming. I could feel the demon panic. This... harbinger of death grabbed the demon, pulling it out of me. I saw the chance and took it. I summoned all of the power I had left. Every good feeling, every happy thought, every strand of hope and pressed with all my might.''

Trillian leaned back, aware that such emotions could help one find strength. ''And that was all you remember?'' Angelica nodded. He knew the event would haunt her and parts had naturally been repressed to protect her own psyche from further damage. He glanced at Sonja. She was staring resolutely ahead, a glitter of mischief deep in her fiery eyes. He could question her about what had happened later, but he knew he wouldn't get anywhere. As privy as she had made him to her life - her true life - there were still many things a mortal was not allowed to know about the life of the Aspects.

''Why was the Hope's Blade intent on going to the Sterwil Federation? Your father seemed a little shocked that we ended up here, in the Tuven Sector when he was fully expecting to see Sterwil.''

Angelica cringed a little, ''My mother blames the Sterwil Federation for the biological warfare inflicted upon our people. I believe she ordered the Hope's Blade to retrieve me and start a war with Sterwil. I don't know if she knew about the entity, but she knows I am the only one who will fight to protect Thymion and its allies. My sister, Rachel will not. The idea of combat sickens her. We are healers and carers by nature... but the idea that my mother sees me as nothing more than a weapon...'' She clenched her fists in her lap, fresh tears streaking her cheeks, ''I don't remember any more than that. It's either an indecipherable blur or a blank spot in my memory. And I don't know if it will ever come back to me. A part of me hopes it doesn't. That entity... it was the epitome of monstrous.''

Trillian looked to Darkwater and then to Vinecath. Both agreed she was being truthful. ''All right, then. With nothing further to add to this report, I, Acting Captain Trillian Theodore Spears am ending this interview and will submit the recording as evidence to my commanding officers, the Tuvenese government and the Thymion people for review and judgement. This interview is hereby adjourned.'' He stopped the recording and started making copies of it.

He handed a slim data crystal to Vinecath, another to Darkwater and kept the master copy for himself. The one destined for Thymion, he hung on to. He would personally hand it off to Billy. Angelica was still a little unaware of herself and he wasn't entirely sure that she wouldn't accidentally misplace it or forget about it. He told her as much once Vinecath and Darkwater had signed the datapads and she looked a little put out for a moment before nodding in agreement.

''It would be a good idea. Now I've had something to eat and gotten all of that off my chest,'' She paused with a half, crooked smile, thinking about the stone that had caused her so much grief, ''I'm too exhausted to even think straight any more.''

Trillian looked to Sonja and made a small gesture. The dragon helped Angelica to her feet and guided her back to her quarters, to a bed with fresh sheets and a good nights' sleep. As she drifted off, she let her mind roam, feeling those around her going about their business, exercising in the gym, watching entertainment vids on the local MediaNet, reading, chatting, playing games... Her mind searched for Trillian's, finding him back in the wardroom, surrounded by his department heads; Owen, Thaslon, Vulwen, Trat, Reana, they were all there and their moods a mixture of surprise, grim and relieved for something that was finally being put to an end.

She couldn't make out what was being said or what the meeting was about, but as she drifted off to sleep, she felt the PsyNet slide around the wardroom, blocking all from seeing the happenings within.

~~~~~~

The rest of the week passed quickly - both physically and mentally - as the small group of ships made their way through the slipstream and into Firmament Sol System. Angelica continued taking her meals in Jashen's office with Trillian, Owen and Sonja ocassionally joining when they could. A few more questions were asked of Angelica, some that ended up painting her mother, Mariana, in a less than favourable light. The fact that the woman seemed all too comfortable with using one of her daughters to start a war with a power much stronger than Thymion didn't sit right with anyone, especially when she failed to take notice in her child's sudden change in mood and didn't question it. Fortunately, once the Ranger hit Firmament, it would no longer be their problem. Firmament was the end of the line for the Shadow Stalkers crew and Angelica had announced that once she was done celebrating her birthday, that she would take the Hope's Blade home and start the process of getting the Thymion Empire back in order, no simple task since the idea of a government body and how they operated mystified her.

''Bring it up with the Tuven authority in charge of this case. If you want to trade freely in the Tuven Sector, you'll need something to do it with. Like a Board of Commerce, Trading Standards, inter-galactic banks and all the other boring bits to go with it.'' The tiger had said. ''Basically, governments are very boring and tend to suit those with a bent toward organization, record keeping and leadership very well.''

''The Tuvenese will most likely assign one of their own government officials and a team to help you get things sorted and to find out what style of government best suits your society. You'll most likely end up with a military ambassador in the party, too once they get a look at the Hope. From what I've read of your people's life styles and what you've told me about your trading habits, a small governing body should work well. That way, when things inevitably grow, it will grow with them and it'll do so naturally.'' Owen piped up.

''I also suggest, in light of recent discussions, you dig out the root cause for building warships. The Hope's Blade is no picket ship. I get the feeling she's got longer legs than any of you realise.'' Angelica gave Trillian an odd look, not quite understanding the phrase, ''What I mean is that a ship of the Hope's size is a long distance vessel, with the store capacity to operate for a year or more away from home. If she had short legs, she'd only be able to operate for a year or less without any external replenishment. As for her overall build, tell us, why would a pacifist species need a fleet of warships? They're all heavily armed and equally armoured. A pacifist certainly wouldn't consider the kind of power it would take to destroy a planet with a ship-mounted cannon, much less employ it. That's the school of thought that people like me, Mister Hartman and Major Shira dwell in. 'How big of a gun can I fit to my ship before it's considered a war crime?' If you ask me, something's being kept from you concerning your people and it would do you all well to explore that before something else happens that goes against the favour of your people.''

Angelica had then stared blankly at the half-thigh bone she had stripped clean of meat laying on her plate. Trillian was right. She remembered the Avran ships, the ones that escorted their freighters loaded with supplies. Those escorts were light in armarment but heavy in armour, chaff launchers, EMC suites and shields, obviously preferring to run than fight. She pushed the thought aside for later, in exchange for another.

Lieutenant Commander Hartman, she had learned quickly once she had managed to get him talking, had turned out to be a rich source of historical information and she had soon found herself swamped with a ream of historic facts and lessons. In fact, she had ended up requesting some reading material, the subject matter fascinating her so much. She had ended up with a small mountain of digital text books that had been pulled from the ship's databanks and dumped onto her bracelet. Her reading material had expanded as she dove into other texts when she came across something she didn't understand or when a crewman had nudged her in the direction of something she might find particularly interesting.

With each kernel of knowledge she gained, each update on the worlds beyond the Thymion Void, her own people were updated; she had asked Trillian permission to forward her learnings to the Hope's Blade and had been given the go-ahead as it would be immensely helpful to have a group of native people with some understanding of how things were outside guiding them.

''It's just historical and some more up-to-date information. Mundane, yes, but in your case, necessary.'' He had said.

There was truth to his words; the closure of shipping routes, the opening of new ones; the skirmishes between worlds and the motivations for them, the various, wild fluctuations in trade... It was all there, boring, but with an edge of fascination. In the end, the only thing she truly struggled to wrap her mind around was the war between the Connarum Sector and the Sterwil Federation. And the fact that Avras was now leaning more towards the military than the aid side of things was unsettling. Newsfeeds pulled from the local MediaNet had stated that Avras's core wold and all its outliying colonies had closed their borders to all but Oshanus, civillian traffic and, disturbingly, Bressan.

In fact, Avras had employed a sizable Bressis task force to patrol their core world's borders with the payment not being money, but lives and hulls. So far, several Sterwil Black Navy ships seeking refuge within Avras space had been overwhelmed and the few survivors sent packing, minus their ships. She looked up the Bressis on the Ranger's database. The description was succinct and the stuff of nightmares. Bressis preyed on psychics of all levels, stripping their minds for food. They also consumed other creatures, too, absorbing their prey into the gelatinous mass of their oily bodies. As she thought about it, she realised just what Avras had done; they had effectively given a highly predatory species a free buffet, the most vile form of protection money if ever there was one.

She thought about what had been said about the Avrans that had had their minds wiped by her mother and ultimately been absorbed into Thymion society. Avras had been preyed on, bullied and taken advantage of by everyone because of their pacifistic ways. The GC and by extension, Sterwil itself, had led them a merry dance, sending them into the Thymion Empire to be captured, their cargo tainted and their ships scrapped for materials. Helping through medicine, it seemed, had worn thin with the people and now rumours had it that the Bressis weren't just a forever-hungry picket, but also a shield against any outsiders who would seek to destroy the new, militarized shipyards Avras was now building.

Corporal Marsh...?

Mm? He replied. He was posted outside her door, his mind idle as he stared at nothing in particular.

Would the Bressis turn on Avras?

She felt his mind flit elsewhere, heard a faint whispering of millions of voices and then they fell silent.

No. A truce has been struck between the two people and a blood-oath has been made between leaders. If someone unwanted wants to get to Avras, it's their funeral.

She deactivated her bracelet, switched off the datapad that was linking it to the database and rolled onto her side, one hand tucked beneath her head, the other absently stroking the hard swell of her belly. Contact with Avras would have to wait. Maybe it would have to wait for quite some time. It would not do to kick the hornet's nest, especially when said hornets were protected by a much bigger, much nastier species that could eat her people alive in a day or less without even going anywhere near them. She let her mind wander, seeking out the answer to one last, burning question. Thaslon surprised her by answering full, his mental voice coming through strong and clear.

Sterwil started it. They seized control of a Connarum agri-world and played innocent when it was brought up. The Connarum Sector is much smaller than the Sterwil Federation, so Sterwil kept on grabbing what wasn't theirs and kept pushing the Connaru out of their territory just so they could expand further into the galaxy. The Connaru fought back hard when they lost a bio-research moon and all data it carried - they were supposedly on the cusp of finding a cure for a disease that degenerates bone marrow. Naturally, Sterwil took what data they found in those datastacks and claimed them as their own.

The Connaru threw a fit. Not only had Sterwil cost them billions of lives, but they had also cost them four star systems, three mining outposts in rich debris fields and numerous convoys to Sterwil funded piracy. It all turned into a massive war. Sterwil's forces were bigger than the Connaru's, but the Connaru had more reliable allies to fight alongside. It was Tuvenese royalty, Duke Macher, that incited the peace talks. Of course, none of that went over well. The Connaru were all for giving peace a go so long as they got their stuff back and Sterwil told the truth. But Sterwil wanted more, so they snuck some of their own into the Connarum Sector masquerading as good guys and were stealing more information on the sly as well as trying to destabilize the Connarum core government.

Their seers got wind of this, did their thing and saw the future of the Sterwil Federation and everyone around it - including Thymion. Let's just say, no one knows if the rumours are exaggerated of what they saw. All the Connaru know, is that it's no longer a matter of revenge and taking back what's theirs. It's a matter of galactic stability and the longevity of everyone involved - barring, of course, the Galactic Council's core members. Those guys are the rot and the Connaru are going to purge it all even if it ends them. In short, Sterwil started it and the Connaru are ending it, otherwise, if Sterwil carries on expanding across the galaxy with their precious Federation, it's not going to end well for anyone involved.

The Galactic Council are about as corrupt as you can get and are a prime example of what a government should not be. Thaslon explained. He sounded exhausted, but was determined to explain it to her as best he could. Their war has become a necessary one. Things need to reset and often war is the only way to do it. I recommend you don't get involved in any way and wait until afterwards before moving in to offer aid or something.

That's awful! No war is necessary. The loss of life is too much of a high price to pay. Surely there's other ways about it? Another attempt at peace, maybe?

Thaslon barked a sharp laugh out loud, something she felt more than heard. They had their chance and Sterwil blew it. Big powers such as the Connarum core government, the GC and Tuven don't give second chances. Second chances quite often lead to death in the case of politics. If anything, you're damn lucky you're getting a second chance. She felt his shrug at her distaste. If Sterwil is left alone to continue collecting worlds and enforcing their laws on others? The loss of life then will be staggering. So far, the tally is trillions between the two. If Sterwil is left to carry on... Hm, what's the number that comes after trillions? I don't know. Maybe one doesn't exist. But it will if the Galactic Council are allowed to carry on with making people's lives miserable. Hell, give me a choice between dying in poverty and dying in war, and I'll take war. At least I get an opportunity to go out with a bang and not a whimper.

And if you're still not sure of it, think of it like this: the best way to clear the way for new, healthy growth is fire. This is what the Connarum/Sterwil war has evolved into. A massive bush fire that'll inevitably leave blackened carcasses and wholesale destruction in its wake, but it also clears the way for the new life to bloom and rebuild.

I see... She replied slowly, mulling it over. She found it a tasteless way of putting it. Plants grew back. People did not. But she could see the meaning of what he was saying. From what she had read about the Sterwil Federation, about those who had joined and subsequently left the Federation over the hundred or so years it had been around, it was creaking under its own weight and the rot was spreading. Just like an old barn... Tear it down or it'll fall down.

Exactly. You have some control when you tear an old building down. You have none when you let it fall. He yawned. It's all down to neglect, laziness and greed.

His tiredness resonated deeply with her. It had been a long month. Two months? Three? She couldn't quite remember how long it had been since she'd left Thymion. She wished him a good night, closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~

Decelleration into Firmament Sol was smooth, a cascade of golds, violets and blues fading around the small group as they dropped back into realspace. The view screens all throughout the Ranger lit up with the view of space, the velvet black speckled with pinpricks of white and scattered with chunks of debris, both rock and starship. Trillian looked on, watching his screens, reading what the Harmony of Tildaan was reading; the war tug still being plugged directly into the warship, breathing for her, seeing for her and hearing for her. The deeper into Firmament they went, the thicker the debris. Angelica, sitting in the VIP chair to his left, gasped softly. So much of the debris was starship related. Small chunks the size of a fist peppered space; here and there, a section of hull and in the distance, a darkened hulk of a heavy cruiser drifted in the grip of the local gas giant's gravity well, trailing streamers of glittering alloys and frozen gasses like a comet tail.

A fleet of Tuvenese ships was busily cleaning up the mess, concentrating first on freeing the main shipping lanes of clutter. The half-wreck of what had once been a Tuvenese dreadnought tumbled lazily close by, a war tug clinging to it, little sparks of light across the wreck's combat warped frame denoting the presence of workers who were cutting it into smaller pieces for recycling. Angelica's hand reached out, reflexively psychically pushing aside some of the debris as she looked aghast at the true horror of war.

''What happened here? Is it always so messy?'' Angelica asked softly, her eyes wide as a severed drive block, sublight exhausts exposed, cartwheeled across their path setting off numerous proximity alarms.

''The Battle of Firmament. A Sovvu pirate fleet tried taking the station and the planet. It didn't work.'' Trillian replied grimly, his expression darkening. He was considering joining the Tuvenese Ancillary Fleet because of the incident. They could do with the help.

Tuven's Royal Black Navy was stretched thin, with multiple battle groups searching every corner of the sector for more Sovvu activity, which left the Ancillary Fleet to pick up the slack where needed. The allied worlds within the sector had thrown some of their own battle groups into the hunt to help cull the spreading of Sovvu piracy. The raids had become too much to handle quietly now that the Star Kingdom of Repla had collapsed, its slave races now running rampant doing whatever they could to make up for lost time. The Sovvu had decided to start rebuilding their military and Firmament was a tactically sound location to start their expansion proper: on the far edge of the sol system was a jump point where ships could safely travel to a multitude of destinations, most of which lead deeper into Tuven territory, on whatever FTL systems they had. Ressuply depots clustered around the jump point and a small, scruffy looking space station loitered nearby, ready to administer emergency repairs and render any medical aid should it be needed by any stricken ships coming into the Firmament sol system. There were also three gas giants and numerous debris fields ripe with resources within the system, too.

The Sovvu wanted Firmament in its entirety: the massive shipyard, the accompanying orbital stations and, if at all possible, the Leviathan, a giant Oshanus water tender the size of a small moon. The egg-shaped ship housed a country's worth of Oshanu people who tended the ocean that was safely stowed within the ship's hold. It was a primary source of water for the shipyard and its stations, the ressuply depots and was also a fish farm. Ilya, the planetoid that Firmament was built around, was a lush, jungle environment, rich in hot springs, fertile soils and some prime real estate locations for the wealthy. The only thing that had stopped the Sovvu from taking Firmament and Ilya, and everything else, was the Ranger and a handful of other ships turning around and coming back to help the beleaguered Firmament forces.

Of course, there was one problem: If Trillian wanted to join the Ancillary Fleet, he needed a ship and a crew, a requirement that had been put into action at the Ancillary's inception. The fleet being made up of allied fighting ships crewed by people other than the Tuvenese meant that the Tuvenese Royal Black Navy could keep their battle groups at full strength whilst the shambolic looking Ancillary Fleet did the things that the regular Navy couldn't do or achieve. The Ancillary Fleet may look like a disorganized mess, but the admiralty in control of it liked it that way. It often lured mischief makers into a false sense of security that was robbed of them when they stuffed up and found themselves at the mercy of a heavily armed, well organized fighting force. The Ancillary Fleet was Tuven's personal privateer navy.

He glanced at Angelica. She was fixated on the thick debris field, a horror dancing in her eyes.

She continued watching the view screens for a while longer and then accessed her bracelet, bringing up the battle in question out of curiosity. It had happened a few months ago and the offending band of pirates had been sent packing after being mauled by the resisting force that was comprised of all combat able ships in the area. It had been short, brutal and the cost of lives high on both sides, but Firmament held strong, the shipyard and its attached stations taking only minor damage. There was a list of allied ships, those who had stood against the Sovvu, helping Firmament's crushed defence force fight back and claim victory. The Ranger was at the top of the list, noted as being the ship to ultimately lead the others to victory and she was one of the few allied ships to survive.

She glanced at Trillian a moment then went back to reading, realising that he was engrossed with something else. She didn't know much about these things - Thymion, in the past twenty years had simply overwhelmed any opposition with sheer firepower, both ship-mounted and psychic. No high-tier tactics were required when you could simply melt the brain of your opposition without being anywhere near them. And when you could fire slugs from overpowered gauss cannons the size of the average ground car, taking any meaningful damage was of little concern. Especially when your own hull plating absorbed energy based weapons like dry toast did with melted butter. Trillian and his rag-tag squadron had employed some underhanded surprise manoeuvres and more to claim victory. Judging by what little was given away by the news reports she was reading and by the sheer amount of debris there was, he gave her the idea that he was quite willing to fight dirty to get his own way.

She wondered where he had learned how to fight like that and wondered if she could get her own captains some of that training. After all, if Thymion was going to reintergrate, then they would all need some kind of education to make it all as painless as possible. Yet another thing to ask the Tuvenese about. She shut down her bracelet, stifling a yawn. Sonja was stood off to one side, loitering in the corner between the communications alcove and the bridge's heavy blast door. It was getting quite late in the evening and Angelica, whilst fully mobile and cognizant, was still feeling the tug of exhaustion. Her body and mind wanted rest to continue healing without external interference, a natural reflex incurred by injury or illness of any kind, and so she excused herself from the bridge, Sonja leading her back to her quarters for a rest and quick chat with her family who still sailed aboard the Hope's Blade.

~~~~~~

''Are you certain these people mean us no harm sister?'' The first question came the moment her head hit her pillow. It was filled with fear. Rachel was not the trusting sort, at least not after everything that had happened.

''I am certain. They could have killed us or worse by now. We are far from home and no one would know. It would take years for a rescue ship to arrive. If anything, they have been accommodating for the punishment my powers inflicted upon them.'' She replied with a gentleness.

She felt the warmth and love of her kin as she drifted into a restful state, her body relaxing as her mind joined all of theirs. The serenity of it was refreshing and she openly shared all the knowledge she gleaned from her lessons. As she did, she looked into their minds. Feeling and seeing their past few days. Asteria had calmed greatly, and even come to relax.

~~~~~~

''Harmony of Tildaan to Ranger. We are now on a docking intercept for repair bay one. ETA is one hour. Please prepare your crew for disembarkation and have them report to deck seventy-two, section two of Overwatch Station Alpha. A tram will be waiting to take them to the shuttle for their transfer across. Your engineering and technician crews will be debriefed and examined first so that they may get back to their ship to aid Firmament's own crews with repairs and mechanical investigations.''

''Copy that, Captain Brekan.'' Trillian nodded to Owen who started sending out the orders to all departments. All across the status board, the telltales that were green switched to orange. ''All departments are now locking down and preparing for docking. Their bags will be packed and they'll be ready to go the moment the airlocks open. What about Empre-Princess Wolfen and myself?'' Trillian replied. Brekan's face was a serious mask, his eyes gleaming dangerously. Trillian got the feeling he had finally finished reading through the Ranger's various reports and a knot of nervousness formed in his gut.

It was almost over.

''You will both be escorted to wardoom six for debriefing. Once that is done, you will both be medically and psychologically examined before you will be allowed to your assigned quarters. The crew of the Thymion warship, Hope's Blade will be held in quarantine until the ship and its crew are deemed safe to approach Overwatch Station Alpha.''

''And if they're not?''

Brekan's tone took on a dangerous edge. The Sovvu had not been kind to Firmament. They had not been kind to any place with the Tuven Sector they had touched upon and as a result, everyone within the sector was on edge, guns primed, un-willing to give second chances. ''They will be escorted back to their own space.''

Trillian instinctively heard the words that were not spoken; And if they don't want to go quietly, they can go home with as much fuss as they like.

''Captain, I don't mean to push my luck, but the moment the debriefing and medicals are done with, I have a few calls to make. If I'm to join the Ancillary Fleet, then I'm going to need a ship, and I've recently located a few retired ships within my price range that fit the needs of the Fleet. I need to secure one of those ships as soon as. After that, I'm all yours.'' Trillian said.

Brekan dipped his heavy head, a smile revealing a hint of shark-like teeth. ''After your debriefing, you're free to go about your own business.''

Trillian gave his thanks to Captain Brekan, a few pleasantires were exchanged and the line was cut. Trillian leaned back in his chair and tried his best to ignore the hunger gnawing painfully at his stomach as he watched Firmament slowly dominate the viewscreens. It was a crescent shaped construct, lay on its side, almost girdling Ilya with a pair of large, inverted mushroom shaped space stations bookending the giant shipyard. It was silver-grey, almost looking like it was constructed of stone and was studded with running and navigation lights, forests of antenna growing out of its top and bottom. It was a honeycomb of repair bays, dry docks and building facilities, each one capable of holding up to six ships each and it was defended by patrol ships and a network of disruptor cannon platforms, which currently were in ruins thanks to the Sovvu.

The Harmony of Tildaan crept closer to their designated dock. The Ootlan Fesh and the Archevesen peeled away from the war tug and its charge, guiding the Hope's Blade to its parking orbit where it and its crew would under go inspection and questioning, leaving the one heavy cruiser, Liundassen, as overwatch for the Ranger.

''Almost there...'' Owen sighed under his breath as the giant portal of repair bay one irised open.

Trillian found he was holding his breath as the ships slid silently into the brightly lit space that was occupied by three other ships in various states of repair; a frigate, a dreadnought and what looked to be the remnants of a battlecruiser. Navigation lights beckoned the Harmony deeper into the cavernous space, past the other ships, welding torches flickering like distant stars against their war torn hulls. Vast windows overlooked the docking bay allowing the crews of the ships and their workers a full view of what was going on.

''Looks like we got an audience.'' Trillian said as he saw the crowds that lined the catwalks and huddled in the viewports that overlooked the Ranger's resting place.

''Their hero's just barely survived a nightmare.'' Owen replied quietly, ''I don't think this is how they were expecting to see the Ranger or her crew.''

''Not victorious nor beaten. Just exhausted and wanting to move on.''

There was a series of dull thuds and a low, metallic groan vibrated throughout the ship. The docking clamps were in place, one accidentally crushing a section of armour plate just fore of the engine room. There was a tense few minutes that was quickly dispelled by Thaslon reassuring them all that no one had been injured. He had selected the least tired members of his crew and cobbled together an engineering team in preparation for the First Watch; which is when Firmament's own group of engineers would aid Thalson's own in getting the Ranger fit enough to make it home under her own power.

The Harmony broke away from the Ranger now that the destroyer was in its docking cradle. All the systems it was handling went offline, plunging the ship into darkness only for Firmament to take over a few seconds later.

''Incoming message from Firmament Shipyard Control. Audio only.'' Lussan announced from her nest of instruments.

''Let's hear it, Lieutenant.'' Trillian said.

''Welcome back to Firmament, Ranger. It's good to see you still in one piece.'' A gruff voice said.

''It's good to be back, Yard Master Valran.'' Trillian said with feeling. Two more weeks at a minimum now he had seen just how extensive the repair list was for his ship, until they could all head back to Blackwell and move on with their lives. He didn't need to be empathic to feel the tension on the ship rise. Now they were docked, everyone wanted off, to get away from each other and to go relax. Trillian included.

''We will have the Ranger ready for her ceremony within the month, Standard. In the meantime, Firmament's facilities are at your disposal. I sense you are all in desperate need of some relaxation and a hearty meal, and none of us will see any of you sent back out into the black without either of those things.''

''Thank you, we appreciate that.''

''Welcome home, Ranger.'' He said with feeling, ''Valran out.''

Trillian and Owen exchanged looks with the rest of the bridge crew.

''That's not an offer I intend on refusing.'' Reana said as she stretched.

''Nor I. When the interrogation's done, I'm heading straight for Ilya to fatten up.'' Freehan added as he went about shutting his work station down.

''In that case, you better get the hell off my ship and go have fun.'' Trillian said amicably. He watched the final flurry of activity, nodding to each person as they strode excitedly from the bridge to collect their things.

He remained a moment longer after everyone had gone, sitting in the dead silence, the lights dimmed as the Ranger's systems shut down one after the other. Sonja had already escorted Angelica to be questioned and besides Thaslon, Trillian was the only soul left onboard the ship. The Tuvenese authorities had every report Trillian had made since leaving Firmament to clean up the Sovvu wrecks and no doubt they had contacted Oshanus about their representative's own experience with Angelica. Two more weeks, maybe three, and he'd be a free man. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He'd go have a look at this Deymarii and if he bought it, he'd take a few months out for himself and go off exploring, living as a Scav for a while before joining the Ancillary Fleet. He thought about it a while and the more he thought about it, the more it appealed to him. Scav work, whilst a hard way of life, was often solitary and right now, that's exactly what he needed.

He sighed, shut down his work station and got up, tucking his command wand safely into his tunic. All he had left to do was grab his duffel, go for his medical and debriefing, then see about that old Tenglaari sensor corvette that had caught his eye.

~~~~~~

The room was small but luxurious and was of Typical Tuvenese design; the deck was carpeted with soft grass, a fountain of fresh water drizzled into a marble basin and the ceiling was hung with small, bioluminescent biotope spheres and flowering vines. The whole of Firmament and her twin orbital stations were of the same design; natural jungle combined with technology, courtesy of highly advanced hydroponics. It also had an amazing view of Ilya from the wide, floor-to-ceiling view screen. Trillian, dressed in a bottle green smartweave suit with a pair of black cotton slacks over the top, stood at the screen watching the thick cloud cover swirl through the planetoid's atmosphere, a tumbler of Tuven's finest rum in one hand. He stared absently at the world below, his mind going over the day's work. It had been a long one, but by 11pm, everyone had been seen to, processed and allowed to go about their business thanks to the Tuvenese authority's goliath effort at getting everyone sorted out. The Hope's Blade had passed muster as had its crew and had been allowed to dock with Orbital Alpha, the crew allowed to explore so long as they behaved themselves.

Angelica, after extensive talking with the Tuvenese authorities had recieved the go-ahead to leave for home whenever she felt like it with a small, portable datacore accompanied by a Tuvenese emissary to help prepare Thymion to re-join the galaxy at large. She had been found innocent of whatever crimes the entity had committed, much to the relief of her family, though they had been heartily chastised about their lack of common sense in using an unknown artifact for medical purposes. Angelica was now holed up in a larger hab suite three decks below with her family. He had been invited for a late night meal, but he had declined. He desperately wanted to be alone for a while, to rest and recover from the stresses of active duty. And also to process the message he had received a week ago that had come in from an Avran scout ship that had been patrolling the Kuthwar Provinces out beyond the Connarum Sector.

The scientific outpost his sister had worked and lived on for the last twenty years had been destroyed by a Sterwil raiding party. So far, no survivors had been reported and only a few bodies had been recovered. His sister had taken to living on the station with her young son not long after their homeworld had been burned. The station had been the safest place for them. So far as Trillian knew, he was now the last member of his race left alive. He swirled the whiskey in the glass and watched the clouds below turn darker, mirroring his mood. For once, being the last man standing was not a good feeling. Coupled with the fact that he could not exact any form of meaningful revenge upon either Sterwil or the Synthenoid Empire left him bristling with impotent rage. The Synths had taken his parents, his wife and his son. And the Sterwil Federation had taken his sister and nephew. And, he mused as he ran his hand through the fur atop his head, he would be dead soon, too. He had fifty years at the most before the Synth nanites fully converted him into one of their disposable assets.

He already had the silver skin, the teeth, whiskers, advanced senses, wetware and double the stamina and strength he used to have. He was quarter of the way there, he realised sourly, and the more stressed he was, the faster the nanites worked, feeding on the adrenaline released by his body. He downed his drink, relishing the trail of cinnamon fire it left as he swallowed and put the empty glass in the compact dishwasher in the kitchen nook. He pushed his clamouring thoughts aside and had a small meal. Recovery from strict rationing was two days of small, regular meals - bread rolls, toast, oatmeal, sandwiches - to rebuild the stomach's ability to digest larger, richer meals without making him sick. He turned his mind away from the grim and thought about the restaurant and its meat buffet on deck 39. Another day and the crew of the Ranger were to gather there to have their own decommissioning ceremony just in case the old destroyer didn't get one when she finally went home to dry dock.

He finished his sandwich, peeled his clothes off and sprawled out on the large mat of plush moss in the adjoining bedroom. He pulled a silken blanket across himself, ordered the lights to switch off and was asleep before he could find a more comfortable position in which to sleep.

~~~~~~

Sonja sat at the table in the far corner of the bar, the booth's privacy barrier active as she nursed a cold herbal tea. The last contract had been more than anyone had bargained for and the tension it had generated had been soul crushing. There were one or two of her fellow crewmen loitering in the bar, each keeping to themselves whilst the rest were who-knows-where. After Sonja had handed Angelica off to the Tuvenese authorities, she had gone back to the ship to help Snowstorm Squad offload their mutinous crewmates into the back of an Enforcer's wagon. Those traiterous little sods were currently sitting in Firmament's brig complex waiting on a more capable Shadow Stalkers ship to come and collect them.

All the reports had been handed over, debriefings had been performed and now they were all waiting to go home. She rested her chin on her knuckles, stared out the viewport and checked in with Thaslon. It really wasn't her job to do so, but she had seen how drawn out the crew were, especially Trillian and Owen.

''Just got the old sublight drives out. Now waiting on those refurbs so we can put the aft hull back together. That's gonna take at least two days to insert the drives and then another four to plug it all in and a further day to cold-test the systems.'' Thaslon replied. The exhaustion in his voice was obvious and she knew that trying to talk him into getting a few hours of rest would be an impossible task. Once Thaslon had set his mind to fixing something, he got it done, in one hit if possible, and with Firmament allowing him free reign of their repair bay and stores, the horse was taking full advantage of his time and work crews.

''Just a patch up job?''

''Yup. No point in a full repair if she's just going to scrap. Second-hand parts'll get us back to Blackwell no problem.''

Feeling satisfied that things were going smoothly for once, she apologised once more for disturbing him, said her goodbyes and cut the line. She looked away from the small viewport when the privacy barrier chimed, letting her know that someone wanted her attention. She looked around, feeling a little annoyed and locked eyes with Bojo. She stared at him for a few seconds, getting the measure of his intentions then let him into the booth with an annoyed sigh. She reactivated the barrier as he settled into the frayed leather bench seat opposite her, a tankard of strong ale grasped in his right hand, his eyes never leaving hers.

''I thought you'd be upstairs with your family.'' Sonja said by way of a hello. She was in no mood for company.

''They're resting right now. It's been a long day for all of us.'' He paused, sipped his drink thoughtfully and said, ''These Tuvenese people don't mess around with their interrogations and debriefings, do they? Especially when it comes to vampires.''

''They don't. They had a plague of vampires a couple of decades ago that decimated three of their colonies. They do not take kindly to feeding without permission. And Trilllian saved Firmament's collective backsides a few months ago, leading a largely civillian task force in a warship that was barely fit to fight. So you'd do well to remember that threats to the Ranger and her crew will not go over well.'' Sonja said sternly. She knew the Thymions had already heard it all from the Tuvenese but she figured that Bojo and a certain vampire could do with being reminded of that fact.

He nodded, ignoring her recalcitrant tone. Even spending such a short amount of time at Firmament and interacting with the Tuvenese and a handful of Shadow Stalkers personnel, he had learned that her tone was deserved. She was the lead Legionnaire aboard the Ranger and the ship's head of security. Her patience had been tested to its limits and the last thing she wanted was to be disturbed by anybody during her downtime.

''We were told all about it. And rest assured, now that everything's out in the open, we have no intention of causing trouble.''

''You didn't come down here to tell me that, though, did you?'' The dragoness added smoothly.

''No, Lady of Flame. I need a favour of you...''

Her expression darkened. She knew he would be asking her as an elemental, not as a soldier. ''Need I remind you that we are not creatures who give out favours. We are not djinn and I am not a lesser elemental that can be enslaved.'' She said, ''I did what I did not out of the kindness of my heart, but because that creature had disrupted the very flow of time so much that the plotted future was derailed. Something had to be done to stop reality from fraying further. Now speak your mind and don't mince your words, and remember; Aspects do not give favours.''

Bojo looked at her and felt a dry lump form in his throat. He washed it down with a swig of ale and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

''Angelica is not the only one who was affected by the stone. I was too.'' He said after a moment. Sonja leaned back in her chair, eyeing him coolly. She motioned silently for him to continue.

''I don't know how long it's been. I've seen universes come and go. Dimensions rise and collapse. I have seen creation itself happen time and again. And each time I see it, my mind burns with knowledge no mortal should know. But that stone cursed me with undeath. Have you ever lived an eternity with your head separated from your body? It's boring. That and when I got back to my body it had fleas.''

Taking a moment to sip his drink, he looked at it before continuing, ''I spent so long just observing I barely understood how to live anymore. It wasn't until I found Billy drinking himself to death in a bar that I found a reason to care. But it was that sweet wolfess that allowed me to really live again. I shouldn't exist. I should have died two eons ago. But I can't die. You are the only one that would know how. After all, your kind did rewind time and correct a deviation in the natural order of things.''

He looked at her a moment more, noting the slightly vague look in her eyes before standing up and straightening his jacket, ''Think it over please,'' he whispered gently as he left.

Sonja watched Bojo leave the bar in silence, mulling over what he had just told her. She sat for a few minutes longer, finished her tea, got up and left, the distant whispers of a familiar voice still lingering in her thoughts. She headed to a bank of lifts, stepped inside one and went down to the lowest deck the shipyard had to offer. It was a dimly lit maintenance deck, largely used to access other maintenance areas, storage and transporting materials and spare parts in bulk without getting in anyone's way up top. It was a warren of wide service corridors and narrow accessways. The shipyard's internal security was still semi-fried after the fight with the Sovvu, so she took full advantage of that fact and wound her way through the maze, ducking under thick, cladded conduits and stepping over shielded pipes that snaked across the deck like armoured speed bumps. She quickly found herself in a wide service corridor deeper within the heart of the shipyard, amused voices echoing in the distance. She cocked her head and listened. Two male Tuvenese chatting with a single male void elf. She guessed they were half a kilometer further down the long, gently curving corridor somewhere.

She was well out of their line of sight. She turned around and headed further down the corridor. She kept walking until she came across a hallway leading off the main serviceway that was lined with doors. She walked down there, absently testing the doors as she went until she found one that was unlocked. She stepped inside and closed the door.

The moment the door sealed up behind her, shutting her in darkness, she stepped off the plane of realspace and dropped into her own realm. She shifted into her natural form, her uniform unravelling around her and spread her wings. She arched her back, gave a solid downward beat and arrested her fall, sending herself soaring high into the twilight sky above. The Astral Realm of fire warped beneath her, shifting and fading away as she willed open a portal into the core elemental realm, a plane of existence where all Aspects and lesser elementals could come together in one place.

The twilight darkened to a deep blue that bordered black. Stars and distant nebulae bloomed across the black canopy and a cool wind blew sparks from her mane of fire as she flew high, relishing the freedom these realms gave her. She dropped through the scattering of cloud below her and arrowed towards the sprawling temple that sat, floating in the middle of a large, silvery lake. A skirt of glittering waterfalls cascaded from its base and vanished into the whirling clouds below. Twisting spires of gold and silver reached to the heavens and domes made of amethyst, sapphire, obsidian and opal studded the vast structure, linking the towers with grand halls. Wide hallways were open to the air, enclosing lush gardens of all varieties: here a garden of snow, ice and evergreens; there a garden of tropical ferns and colourful, exotic flowers. Meadow gardens and autumnal canopies, desolate dunes and deep pools of crystal blue water broke up the decadence of marble, precious metals and stones.

Sonja angled her wings to slow her descent and landed daintily on a broad balcony carved from marble and inlaid with crystal. Lush vines tumbled over the edge, bright flowers studding the broad leafed greenery. In the distance, islands, some small, some large, all of them blooming with the power of the elements, floated in the air. Some had narrow waterfalls cascading over their edges and others were frozen solid. She looked around, taking a moment to soak up the view and huffed sparks as she saw a dark shape unfurl its wings and drop from one of the floating islands. It drifted lazily towards her until the shape resolved itself into the form of a black dragon. Dark, glittering smoke wreathed its head and trailed down its long, powerful neck in a mane that hurt the eyes to look at. Violet sparks flickered from its misty wings like tiny fireflies and glowing violet pinstripe markings whorled across its body, spiralling up its twisting, obsidian horns.

'Greetings, Onix.' Sonja purred, dipping her chin in acknowledgement.

Onix landed beside her with a thud, the crystal floor tiles tinkling softly from the impact of four, monolithic feet hitting the ground at the same time. He dipped his head and lapped gently at the ice cold fresh water that flowed into the domed building via streams that ran down either side of the path.

'Greetings Firewing. I hear tell from our kin that our sister is running errands for mortals.' He said smoothly.

'I do no such thing and you will do well to remember that.' Sonja replied, 'I am merely here to speak with Soulfang to see what he's going to do about one of his loose ends.'

'Time has been refreshed, why do you insist on having further dealings with the wolf Aspects and their mortals?'

'Because it turns out that the Undoing is not yet done.' Onix cocked his head, his opal eyes glittering with curiosity, 'The stone the entity inhabited is everything to do with this mortal's current issue with immortality. It was an experiment with the stone and its power that re-wrote his aura, and I want to make sure that Lord Soulfang does something about it sooner rather than later. This mortal has been through universal rebirths half a dozen times and the next could very well damage reality itself. Remember the shaman, Glo'tauku the Jaded?'

Onix looked displeased. Glo'tauku had somehow borrowed the power of an extinct god and had been reborn each time the universe had. He had gone quite mad, become quite powerful and had almost laid waste to an entire galactic arm with his gathered knowledge and his power. Onix himself had tore the shaman's warped soul free of its mortal anchor and tossed the raging Nymexian into Oblivion to be annihilated. The damage Glo'tauku had done had never healed for the rest of that cycle and the Aspects of the dragons had had a hard time holding things together long enough for them to heal.

'Aye, I remember him. Good riddance to bad energy.' Onix glowered at the memory.

Sonja lowered her head in a conspiratorial fashion, 'This particular mortal is a born alchemist that lives through the death and rebirth of the universe, witnessing the whole thing. If he dies, he regenerates, all memories intact. Imagine if he could figure out the purest form of the void between life and death, and harness it, instead of using the lesser forms that all magic users use. He would not be a match for any of us, but think of the damage he could cause to other mortals and gods.'

A look of blatant distaste crossed Onix's dark features. 'Rather Soulfang than me.'

'Exactly. So. Do you deem what I'm doing for these wolves a favour, still?' Sonja purred teasingly.

'More a necessity for the stability of existence itself.' He said soberly. There was a distant howl and Onix bowed to Sonja, an amused smile showing the tips of steel silver fangs. He turned and dropped off the broad balcony and vanished into the night with a deep, resonating roar.

Sonja turned back to the entrance to the grand hall that had been chosen for the meeting, its crystal arch draped with more thick vines that were studded with bright flowers with broad petals. It was a space dedicated to spring and the air smelled fresh with new blossom. She strode into the building and padded down the hallway edged with water that glowed faintly. Climbers wove their way around thick pillars to either side of her and emerald ferns clustered at their bases. Witchlights glowed in the air, drifting high overhead in the vaulted heights of the enclosed passage like pale blue fireflies.

She stepped out into a large chamber, the domed roof open to the sky at its very pinnacle. Four hallways, wreathed with ferns and vines lead into the area, 16 shallow streams feeding into a central pool layered with lilypads and lotus flowers. Skimming insects buzzed across the water's surface, some being picked off by the colourful fish that dwelled within. She settled on her haunches, enjoying the softness of the moss that edged the pond, the soft, distant song of the Dreamer, the Creator's first born, filtering through the chamber on a cool breeze. Sitting opposite Sonja, on the other side of the pond, was Soulfang.

'You are sure he is the one?' Soulfang said, getting straight to the point. He was, in fact, the one who had requested this meeting. The fact that Bojo so desperately wanted Sonja to help him with this very subject was pure happenstance.

'He is. He told me so.' Sonja replied.

'What did he tell you, exactly, My Lady?'

Sonja told Bojo's tale to Soulfang, word for word. The black wolf listened intently, taking it all in and filing it all away in his mind. Once Sonja finished, he trailed a green claw through the water, disturbing the still surface, sending out small ripples. The fish darted away from the disturbance and the insects scattered. Soulfang's expression was thoughtful. And a little annoyed.

'His request is my job. I would be insulted that a mortal would dare ask an Aspect for a favour.' He murmured, 'If he and several others were not in my and my kin's sights, I would toy with the idea of striking him down as punishment for his hubris. However, as this Bojo is connected to that damned stone, of all things, and has evaded his true death for such a long time, he is very much a danger to the stability of things.'

'What will you do?' She asked.

'His soul will be harvested and judged to deem its fitness for his chosen afterlife.' He flicked his tail, muttering a rune under his breath. A lesser elemental drifted free from his ruff and floated up to head height like a tiny puff of smoke. Soulfang waved it away and it vanished on the breeze that blew through the chamber, 'He is marked now and there's nothing anyone or anything that can do about it. The next time he dies, he dies.'

'That will please him immensely.'

The wolf cocked his head, 'Any and all mortals that know who and what you are need reminding that we Aspects do not do favours such as this. Even the gods tremble before us and those that don't fall before our wrath. You would do well to remind him of that. The universe is not their's for the taking, no matter what they think and we owe them nothing.'

Sonja snorted a laugh, 'Lord Soulfang, I made him well aware of that fact. This is merely damage control. It was pure coincidence that you requested my presence as I was telling him just that.' She smiled and faded from the elemental realm.

She stepped back onto Firmament, emerging in her hab suite, her clothes manifesting around her. She straightened her shirt and walked from her room, querying the station's network about Bojo's location. He was two decks below and seventeen doors away from her current position. She stepped into a lift and made her way to the hab suite that he was currently staying in with the rest of his family. It was just past 2AM, but Bojo answered the door when she keyed the chime. The faint sound of snoring made it past him as he stood at the threshold, his eyes going wide when his tired brain caught up with what his eyes were seeing.

'You have been marked for death. The next time you die, you die and there is nothing that can be done about it.' She said simply.

'That's it?'

'Problem?'

'No, I just was... I was expecting something more dramatic...?' He tried weakly.

'Like a figure clad in black robes coming to steal you away in the dead of night?' Sonja asked with a raised eyebrow. Bojo shrugged, still feeling a little caught off-guard. 'No, I'm sorry. You are marked for death and when your body dies, your soul will be harvested according to your beliefs. Goodnight, Bojo. Refrain from asking any more favours of me or my kin.'

Bojo nodded, his mind churning. He watched her walk away, her ruby scales gleaming under the dimmed overheads. A serene sort of numbness spread slowly through him as he realised what had just happened. One day, he would finally get his final death. He closed the door and retreated into the large, plushly furnished living room, sinking down into one of the armchairs, his gaze fixed unseeing on the vista of Ilya below.