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The Deymarii was trailing a fragment of wreckage that was tumbling through the void at the edges of an expansive asteroid field, its sensors sweeping every nook and cranny of the hulk as Trillian worked out the best way to approach it without doing any damage to it or himself. Even though it looked as if it had been sheared off from the rest of the vessel at its mid, the drive block was still reasonably intact. It had seen better days, but then all wrecks had and he figured that he could at least break even on the hull and make some kind of marginal profit on the drives if they were still functioning or even salvageable to some degree. It just depended on who was at the auction house that week. Or if he got picked up by the void elves who had recently laid claim to the asteroid field for mining purposes. The ship was old, heavily carbon scored, dented and scarred, and whatever had cut it in half had done so in the messiest way possible. It hadn't been a beam weapon, as the edges of the wound would be melted and blackened from the extreme heat of the high-output laser. The compartments at that end didn't look to have been set ablaze, either. They were ragged, near unrecognisable, but the hulk bore none of the hallmarks that came from a beam weapon attack. It looked more like a high velocity impact of some sort, the metals and ceramics warped and fractured, the perfect fit for a ship that had been bludgeoned to death.

He checked his readouts. The Deymarii, a retired Tenglaari sensors corvette that he had laboriously brought back up to its former specs was feeding him all sorts of data. Everything from estimated beam, mass, maximum drive output, weapons, shields, FTL unit right down to the hull composition. He clicked his tongue in annoyance at what he was reading, a cold lump settling in the pit of his stomach that radiated a slow flush of anger that had been left to stew for over a year. The hulk was foreign built, had a decrepit rift generator installed and it was registered to Thymion, the Empire's crest emblazoned across the flank of the tumbling hull fragment. And it still held power, latent energy trickling through its cold power conduits. He sighed and scrubbed at his face with his hands. Then he cancelled the sensor sweep and placed his left hand, palm down, fingers splayed across a silver panel that he had built into the armrest of his chair. The helm controls lit up his wetware's HUD and he checked his ship's readiness to sail. The sublights were ready and the slipdrive was fully charged. The systems were green across the board for once. A small, satisfied smile tugged at his mouth. At least his minute intake of rations over the last few months hadn't been for nought. It had allowed him to scrimp and save for the repairs he needed to get the corvette back into fighting condition. Even the gauss cannon magazines were fully loaded for once.

He stared hard at the wrap-around viewscreen, glaring at the fragmented hull and its driveblock, eyeballing it for any signs of aggression. But whatever weapons it carried, they stayed stowed. He broke off from the wreck, having decided that he would rather go for another month or so with barely any food than get involved with Thymion again and guided the Deymarii away from the wreck. He then swore aloud when his sensors pinged their last scan's findings now they had been processed. Everything was in working order, but still slower than he'd like them to be. It was only a few seconds slower, but in a bad situation, a few seconds could mean life or death. And this time, it was just such a scenario, if for different reasons. There was life aboard that wreck, weak but there. He sighed. Once more, things had gotten complicated, and not for the first time, it involved Thymion. He swore again and flipped the corvette end-over-end and headed back towards the wreck, ordering his ship to scan it again to double-check, hoping that it was a blip in the old corvette's recently updated sensor suite.

A trio of life signs appeared on his sensors monitor and they were faint. He swore again. He'd have to call it in or risk someone else finding them and getting themselves into trouble. He came up to the hulk and started a spiraling rotation of his own, carefully aligning the Deymarii with the wreck, carefully matching its tumble in an orbit. He activated the tractor beam and snared the hull, gently bringing it to a halt. From this close, just fifteen kilometres away, he had a much clearer view of the ship. It dominated his viewscreens with the space-rotten armour plates and gill-like rad vents. The markings of a hospital ship could just be made out, the pale blue and red paint terribly faded. This wreck had been drifting for some time through the black, un-checked and un-noticed by anyone except him. He opened his comms and searched for the nearest military starship. That turned out to be the Opal, a cruiser of Undervilde stock. Built and operated by the void elves of Undervilde, they didn't fuck around, especially when a potential hostile was drifting close to one of their latest mining operations.

His hail was answered swiftly and Trillian was greeted by the captain of the Opal, a stern faced, dark skinned man with silver hair pulled back in a tight braid. His silver eyes pinned Trillian to the spot and the tiger felt like he was being judged. Then recognition softened the elf's expression and something akin to pity flickered in those silver depths. Trillian tried not shift uncomfortably or get annoyed. The last thing he wanted was pity from anyone. In fact, he just wanted to be left alone to do his own thing.

''Captain Spears. It's been a while.'' The elf purred softly. ''What's this about potential Thymion activity beyond their allotted borders? Has their war finally boiled over into our territories?''

''Looks like it. I was about ready to leave an alert beacon with this hulk and make for port when I got pinged with some life signs. You're the nearest GC allied warship, so I let you guys know.'' Trillian answered.

The elf glanced off screen and made a quick hand gesture. The Deymarii alerted him to a full scan that was being performed on both the hulk and himself. Trillian tried not to glare at the elf. He was only doing his job and satisfying his curiosity and duty as a commanding officer.

''My apologies, Spears. You know how it is.''

Trillian dipped his chin in agreement. He did know how it was. A lowlife like himself making a discovery such as this would naturally garner a little more than a rudimentary scan. The Opal had searched the Deymarii thoroughly, checking that nothing untoward from the hulk had managed to stow itself away onboard. And since it was a Tenglaar ship interacting with a Thymion ship, no one was taking any chances.

''It does appear that there are three life signs aboard the hulk. Faint, but there. I'm sending a medical team inside along with a Hunter Squad to retrieve those three. You, too, I'm afraid, have also become a person of interest and I will need to interview you about this situation in person so that I may have your words on record for my superiors.'' He said. He leaned back in his chair, his tone becoming more formal, ''Captain Spears, I request that you release your helm controls to the Opal and prepare for docking. Do you comply?''

''I do comply, Captain,'' He paused, fishing around his memory for a name. He had met this man a few times before in the past, when he was still a Shadow Stalker, but he was damned if he could remember his name this time round. A small text message appeared in the top right of his comms monitor and he hid a wry grin. ''Venomspite. Deymarii's helm has been released.'' He finished, giving Venomspite a slight nod of thanks for the prompt and a wry grin of his own.

''Hold position, Deymarii,'' Venomspite said, his expression turning stoney as he looked off to his left, ''We're detecting an FTL vortex of some kind...''

Trillian looked at his own sensors readouts. Indeed, the FTL bandwidths were going mad, the gently oscillating readings seizing and knotting. He refined the parameters and swore. The vortex was getting stronger and it was close. Far too close. He re-took the helm and flipped the Deymarii tail-over-nose and slammed open the throttle, raising the shields. The sublight drives howled in protest but the corvette's sharp powercurve did its job as designed and got Trillian out of the way of the burning wreckage that hurtled out of the unstable rift that had tore itself open less than a thousand-kilometers away from the two ships. His comms unit lit up with a mangled, automated S.O.S the moment the wreck was clear of the rift. Then the rift collapsed in a fury of exotic particles, streamers and whorls of blues, golds and violets arcing out like a plasma storm before evaporating in the solar winds. The Deymarii's shields flickered and failed, and the corvette's damage control systems howled in agony as a spar of sheared metal that had pierced the hull of the of the new wreckage caught the corvette's rimward sublight nacelle, cracking the thick casing and sending the ship into a wild spin of its own.

Trillian fought hard to bring the Deymarii back under control, his helm systems having a fit from the shock of the sudden impact, the incessant warbling of a foreign distress signal biting into his eardrums. The power flickered, went down then came back online. His sensors booted up and he found himself snared in the grip of the Opal's tractor beam, his comms unit blissfully silent. The cruiser was bringing him back towards them and he let out a tirade of curses and fought down the urge to open fire on them. They had simply arrested his ship's tumbling and were bringing him into the safety of their more powerful shields. He sucked down a series of deep breaths and let each one out slowly until his nerves steadied and the thunder pounding in his ears quietened. He looked at his nest of screens and saw the Opal on his sensors and tactical readouts, and winced. They had been showered with debris that was traveling at just under FTL speeds. Their shields had been taken out and there appeared to be several small hull breaches here and there along her upper flank. A connection was re-established between the two ships and Trillian let them take control of the Deymarii even as they reeled the smouldering hulk in with their aft tractor beam unit.

He quickly found himself docked, locked into position against one of the cruiser's airlocks. All that he had to do now was wait for permission to board. To while away the time, he studied the data his sensors had gathered on the latest arrival that had almost killed him. This one looked fresh from combat, any flammables it carried still cooking off even as it sat anchored off the Opal's coreward aft. It too had been sliced in half with the same weapon that had cut up the older hulk he had initially come across. Something in the back of his mind nagged at him and he studied the data a little more closely. The tears matched up almost flawlessly on the two hulks. Indeed, it turned out it was the same ship. She had her registry number stamped across her spine at her midsection and the torn digits on both parts matched up a little too well. He looked at the radiation scans he had gotten from both parts. The one he had found was reading normal for any ship that had spent any amount of time in realspace. This new piece, however, was fresh from an unstable rift, its armour heavy with the exotic particles that were generated during FTL travel. They were dissipating fast, but not fast enough, giving him the perfect opportunity to log more scientific data about the event. Their rad plates didn't seem to be working and they were low on power. He wondered if the ship had an auxiliary power supply somewhere towards the bow of the ship like most other ships had, or if it had simply drawn all of its power from the drives and what he was seeing was the last of the ship's energy bleeding out of broken conduits.

As he watched a live feed of the wreckage, he saw wolves hurling themselves out of airlocks and various rents in the armour, with nothing more than pressure suits and a held breath to keep them alive. There were few kinds of desperation that could lead anyone to throwing themselves on the mercy of the vacuum and whatever had gone down this time had quite clearly driven this lot over the edge. Trillian knew about the war raging in Thymion. Everyone did. It had been hard to ignore what with the amount of radiation and debris being jettisoned from the void. Probes that had been sent in to get a feel for the situation had vanished for months at a time and had returned looking ready for scrap and barely working. Others had simply burned out from old age if they had returned at all. Whatever was going on within the confines of the Thymion Void, someone had fucked up in a big way and now the fabric of reality in that area was groaning under the temporal stresses generated by their war. Ships of all kinds had been seen fleeing the carnage, emerging from the Void as battered old hulks with barely functioning drives. The rest had been shattered debris, the remains of once proud warships twisted and beaten by an enemy who, outsiders like himself knew very little about.

No one wanted to get involved, not after what had happened. Angelica's little performance had effectively sealed her and her people's fate as far as the GC were concerned. The Hope's Blade turning up under stealth had almost crushed a much needed peace treatise and had set it back by a few more decades, possibly even longer. The fact that she couldn't grasp something as simple as being honest had been the tipping point for the GC. She had almost sent them back to war and because of that, the GC were apparently now actively ignoring Thymion's distress calls. The only way to get the GC to react was to, in short, poke the bear.

A telltale lit up on his secondary tactical screen. The Opal had opened its airlock. It was time for him to go meet Captain Venomspite and give his report. Trillian put the Deymarii into an idle state, the systems powering down into standby, waiting for his return. He set a couple of his repair drones on the damaged sublight nacelle and hope that they could get back into some semblance of working order with what few spares he had left. Satisfied that the repair drones were going about their business, he pulled a worn leather glove over his left hand to conceal the silver skin and headed to the airlock. At the other end of the docking tube was a pair of void elf soldiers in full armour. They greeted him a salute and escorted him to a small ante chamber where he was left to wait. He looked around once the elves had wordlessly left, sealing the door behind them. The room was small, with a pair of armchairs in opposite corners under a large viewscreen that displayed a live feed of what was going on outside. Pushed up against the opposite wall was a short sofa. A water dispenser was built into the far wall, a stack of plastic cups in a small alcove next to it.

Trillian glanced at the shattered Thymion ship halves outside. The fresh half had finally cooked off and the older half had also been reeled in, lashed to its forward half with thin, braided cables that were far stronger than they looked. An explosion tore another hole in the hull of the wreck and several wolves were thrown, flailing into the black. He turned away from the view and fetched himself a cup of water. He was tired of wrecked ships and the corpses some of them came with, and he hadn't had a decent drink of anything in months. He swallowed his water in three long gulps, relishing the ice cold freshness of it. It was bliss, as it filled his stomach with the best meal he had had in quite some time. He turned around as the door opened, hoping to see Venomspite there. Instead, it was a beaten up husky that was mithering the guards for information on the wrecked ship and its crew. Trillian eyed him curiously, trying to place where he had seen him before. The man's voice was harsh, croaking with desperation and exhaustion, his uniform more frayed than Trillian's and his fur held a greasy sheen to it. Then it dawned on him. Billy. Shit, just my luck.

The tiger turned back around, intently studying the water dispenser as the guards left again with the promise that he would soon be seen to. Billy sat down heavily on the sofa and Trillian felt him staring at him. Morbid curiosity pulled Trillian's attention away from the water dispenser and the husky who sat hunched, his elbows on his knees, his posture defeated. The two stared at each other wordlessly, Trillian with curiosity as to what to Billy would do and say to him and Billy staring in thought. Trillian wondered if the husky realised just how close to killing him and his ship he had come, all in the name of the Sterwill Federation and its miserable clique, the Galactic Council.

''Captain Spears?'' He ventured. He sounded like he'd been chewing gravel.

''I guess you can still call me that.'' Trillian replied blandly. Billy cocked his head in question, ''I'm a captain without a crew. Hell, I never even made it to the captain, not after that shit show.''

''You look like hell.'' Billy grunted softly, looking the tiger up and down with a critical eye.

''An astute observation.'' Trillian muttered and poured a cup of water out for the husky.

It had been just over a year since he had retired from the Shadow Stalkers, and since then he had had his tail cut off to a mere stump, his left ear bitten off in a bar brawl and thin silver lines criss-crossed his face and muzzle from repeated fights with other Scavs, bandits and law enforcement officers, among other things. He had lost a great deal of weight, too, his muscle mass falling away through tight rationing and starvation, reducing him to a lean, wiry figure of a man. He wore Outrider style clothes, too, lending him a mean appearance. Trillian was now simply a bandit searching for his next meal, willing to stab anyone who got in his way. Billy, however, was in no better condition. He had become lean, his eyes sunken and his ship suit was frayed, stitched up in places. Patches of his cybernetic implants were showing through his fur and clothes, and they looked to be rusting. His cybernetic eye was dull, a telltale that Billy's implants were failing due to lack of energy and maintenance. He handed him a cup of water and Billy gulped it down.

''Where am I?'' He asked. ''What's to happen to us?''

''Aboard Her Majesty's Ship, Opal. She's an Undervilde ship on a defensive picket whilst the elves get their latest mining-colony underway. I have no idea what'll happen to you. That's up to Captain Venomspite whether he drops you off at the nearest refugee camp or hands you over to the GC for processing. Pray it's the former. I would.'' Trillian cast a glance outside. The Opal's shuttles and drones were making swift headway with clearing up and retrieving survivors and bodies alike.

He looked around as the door opened. Captain Venomspite flanked by a pair of guards strode into the room. He nodded to Trillian and gestured for him to sit down, which he did so, taking up one of the armchairs furthest away from everyone. Venomspite turned to Billy, his expression stern, but not unkind. Trillian knew exactly what the void elf was thinking. What had happened to Trillian and his crew had quickly become a form of unspoken rule in its own right and was often called a Ranger Incident. Basically, the first sign of trouble from any non-crewmember would result in the troublemaker getting spaced. Risking an entire ship for the sake of an ego would not do and these days it was a thin line to be crossed with a swift execution quite possibly waiting on the other side.

''My name is Argus Vulwen Venomspite and I am in command of this warship, Opal. You will obey my command or be spaced, is that clear Billy of Thymion?'' He had taken to Basic and Billy looked up, bewildered until his mind caught up. He nodded, ''Speak up. For the purpose of the Galactic Council and this ship's records, this discussion is being recorded in all aspects.''

''I understand and obey, Captain Venomspite.'' Billy said. He cast a furtive glance at Trillian who was back to staring at the viewscreen and the goings on outside, his remaining ear turned towards the conversation.

''Excellent. Now. What happened? Start from the beginning, please.'' Venomspite asked, his silver gaze pinning Billy to the spot.

Billy went quiet, his eyes downcast. He spoke in quiet tones, ''When the Synthenoids left us in Thymion, Angelica did what she promised to do. She released the slaves and handed them their tech back, turning our warships into a defensive picket. A certain group of slaves, those who drove Thymion into isolation in the first place, took advantage of the situation. They declared war, seized our vessels through lies of engine failure and distress calls... everything happened so fast... they attacked our outposts and our colonies were raided. Our people were dying all over the place, slaughtered by the hundreds in live broadcasts that were shown across the Empire. And every time an outpost or a colony was hit, we retreated instead of just standing our ground and fighting back. No matter what you believe, Thymion isn't by nature, a violent place. Angelica was the first to use magic offensively and she's the only one to do so.''

''Who is 'They'.'' Venomspite asked.

''The Temlasarians.'' He paused, sucking down a deep breath, looking at his clenched fists, ''The Temlasarians are relentless. We were evacuating one of our mining colonies and came under fire from a ship posing as an ally. We just abandoned the colony and its excavation mine, leaving everything behind except the people. Our civilization went to war some time ago. The Temlasarians firmly believe they have absolute rights to rule over the galaxy and everything and everyone in it. They came in so fast, using our own ships against us... we had no choice but abandon our everything. We needed to escape them quickly. They want us extinct and they're not hanging around for it. The only things we managed to escape with were the clothes on our backs, the weapons in our sheaths and a battered old hospital ship that was bought off of someone else. I paid for it with my body, it was my turn on the negotiation that rotation. A few medical experiments and... services I could provide their women bought us a ship and a day of medical supplies. She wasn't a fast ship, mostly a wreck, but she could handle a rift generator if we jerry rigged it. But it wasn't meant to handle flight from a battle... they hit one nacelle with a phased plasma blast. We barely broke orbit, and had to risk rift jump in the mid atmosphere to the back side of a nearby moon to plot a better course."

He clenched his fists, opened them and clenched them again as he spoke, ''They caught up with us, but we only realised it too late. The ship they used against us was one of our super dreadnoughts. They were flying Thymion's flag and using our codes... the second we realised, we opened our rift and went. But it was already too late. That weapon... that weapon...'' He trailed off into a mumble.

Trillian looked at him askance, watched him clenching and unclenching his fists slowly, methodically. He was staring at the decksole between his feet. There was a serious case of PTSD there. Billy was broken and drifting in the depths of his own mind.

''What about Empress Wolfen? Where was she when all of this happened?'' Venomspite asked.

A soft sob choked Billy, ''She's dead. The people pleaded with her to negotiate with them, to try to get them stop because she was the only one strong enough to frighten them into backing off. She agreed to go. She took the Hope's Blade and went unarmed. She tried to negotiate with them, to come to some kind of truce with them, maybe scare them off. But they killed her. She didn't even try to fight them this time... they just killed her and she let them. Her and her ship, gone. Just like that. And the stone in her chest, something happened to it when she died. It reacted to the blast and time was broken in our area. We have been at war for over one-hundred years now. Just fighting to survive and running away. The other species we released from slavery either fled or tried to help, but in the face of three massive ships, their fleets and tech arent strong enough. The Temlasarians have two dreads, and the Empress Hand, not to mention every foreign ship they could get their hands on. Several of them are medical, with cloning technology onboard. In less than a year they had over a three million strong population. By now, it's closer to a billion. They have the flagship, most of our best defense ships, a limitless supply of soldiers, our best tech, and we can do nothing to take it back.''

His anger and loss was palpable, and Trillian simply stared at him, his mind ground to a halt. Venomspite merely listened, nodding, as if unsurprised. The elf was a few thousand years old himself and had seen his fair share of war of all kinds, so maybe he really wasn't surprised.

Trillian leaned back in his chair, enjoying how comfortable it was. Pacifistic tendancies was not something he had ever associated with Angelica. The very idea of her being a pacifist almost made him laugh out loud. Instead, he continued to stare at the husky, his mind blank. He tried mustering some sympathy, but found that he couldn't. Not after the Ranger. Not after finding out that half of the old destroyer's crew had retired due to her constant mental invasions. He had heard that some had been so deeply scarred by the experience that they had commited suicide to just escape the memories and the paranoia she had instilled in them. Others had turned to piracy and more had simply vanished into the woodwork of the galaxy under new identities after they had become the butt of many jokes. Even he himself was struggling to scrape together enough money to keep his ship going and to keep himself going, too, due to the reputation the debacle had garnered him. Regardless of the truth of it, regardless that what had really happened was logged in multiple reports with video and audio evidence along with Oshanu and Synthenoid reports, people still blamed him and him alone. To say he was sorry for Billy's loss would to commit himself to a lie that he knew he couldn't be bothered to keep up with.

The husky looked up, anguish writ plainly on his face. The faint cybernetic glow in his left eye flickered and faded, going dark. The eye slowly slid down, pointing at the floor whilst his remaining organic eye looked between Venomspite and Trillian imploringly.

''Did your people call for external aid?'' Venomspite asked. His tone was still calm as he stood there, hands clasped behind his back. His guards were standing either side of the door, looking on, studiously oblivious to the conversation.

''No. We haven't. The outer worlds didn't want to lose trade with the Federation systems nearby and we were unable to muster enough internal support. Even the best allies we had barely had the strength to protect their own planet, let alone assist their ruling government. We are a No-Go Zone and blacklisted, which means no outside help from any Federation allied world or mercenaries. And Thymion is surrounded by them. We're a hostile blip on their radar and nothing more to them. We even tried to buy some passage on pirate ships as slave labor. Anything to escape the slaughter. But they wouldn't touch us because they didn't want the GC to think they were assisting us in some way and sticking their noses in to muck up whatever operation they were running at that time. They also didn't want to become like the Ranger...'' He cast a furtive glance at Trillian, ''There was no one in our Empire with enough firepower to call on that could help us and as powerful as the wolves are, they can't all stand up to those ships and stations. Angel had refused to use her power since she lost the baby.

''Her sister isn't powerful enough to help and her mother, Mariana refused to lift a finger to fight. They are a passive species by nature. Very few have the will or stomach for fighting. We have no means of deflecting that kind of attack when most of our orbital and ground based defenses are completely compromised or wiped from existence. And since most of the Thymion people walked away from the tech since it was still so strange to them, it was on us, the defense force to try and hold things together. At best, we could save one life for every thousand lost.'' Billy replied somberly. ''We have about one-hundred and fifty square kilometers left of livable space on our core world that is now under Mariana's protection. The capital city, which she's magically shielding from anyone trying gain entry or trying to bomb it. In short, we've just been running and hiding as best we can, tracing circles around our own territory before biting the bullet and leaving the Empire all together, rescuing as many as we could in the process and getting them to safety, away from the Temlasarians.''

Venomspite shifted his weight from one foot to another as he mulled something over. Billy's story had taken a bit of a winding path, but it had eventually reached its end, ''Do you know what kind of weapons these Temlasarians are using?''

''All Thymion warships have gauss cannons, laser batteries, torpedo launchers, missile tubes and plasma cannons as standard. But the Temlasarians managed to rig up a gravity sling, a device used for launching drones in space and managed to create a singularity generator. They use it to fire blackholes like bullets which has only made the temporal distortions worse. Soon the entirety of Thymion will have been consumed by the blackholes... all our rescue ships are gone. That was our last. And our remaining warships are useless against such viciousness. Three battered cruisers and a broken destroyer can't stand up to them.''

''The place'll be a supermassive blackhole when they collide and swallow each other.'' Trillian mused softly.

Venomspite gave him an admonishing look for butting in. Trillian shrugged and continued to stare outside. He knew he was right and he felt nothing for it. The blackholes would simply swallow one another and merge, causing chaos for the entire galactic arm. Unless the Synths got involved with their neutralizing tech... He pulled his mind away from that and focussed on what was happening outside. The activity had died down now and the wrecks had been bolted together for ease of transportation. No doubt the hulk, now looking more like a starship, would be towed to a law enforcement compound for investigation. What was happening in Thymion was a series of war crimes and so it would be treated as such. Genocide and Full-Cloning coupled with singularity based weapons was a one-way ticket to a surprise extinction. And just by Billy saying what he had said, had just made the Temlasarians extinct. Those saurians were about to learn the hard way just how temporal anomalies could be circumnavigated and used to the enemy's advantage.

''Have you given up on your Empire as a territory?'' Venomspite asked simply. It sounded harsh to Billy, but to Trillian it sounded like an idea was taking shape in the back of the elf's mind.

''No. I... I don't know any more. I gave up when my children all died, Sir. I'm just trying to make sure it wasn't in vain. That one day these wolves will flourish and live in peace without anyone coming to their planet and tampering with them again. Before all this started... they had a perfect society. No crime, no need for courts, no property. They lived only to further their enlightenment and to commune with their planet and gods. Nothing more. They had harmony, and no need for even the slightest technology.''

Trillian glanced at Venomspite and saw a feral gleam in his eyes. The elf was hungry for a fight, bored of picket duty and Trillian suddenly pitied the Temlasarians to a minor degree. Undervilde was an entire star kingdom that had been sunk deep into the layers between realities billions of years ago, and its citizens had thrived within the raw energies of the universe ever since. Navigating such anomalies as Thymion was suffering through was a daily walk in the park for the race of void elves. Almost as if he could see what Trillian was thinking, Venomspite gave a grin to match the glint in his eyes, giving a quick flash of sharp teeth.

He turned to the soldiers at the door and gestured to them. They stepped aside and another armoured soldier escorted another familiar figure in. It was Rosemary, swollen with pregnancy and exhausted by fear, her single remaining wing held loose at her back and an eye covered with medical gauze. She gasped, her hand fluttering to her mouth and she ran forward, wrapping her arms around Billy. She crooned to him as he sank into her embrace, running her fingers through his fur, using her magic to soothe his wounds and ease his pain some. She helped him lay down on the sofa and he was snoring gently the moment his head hit the soft seat cushions. She crouched next to him for a moment longer, stroking the side of his face, her expression bleak. She then looked around and spotted Trillian, a mixture of emotions warring across her face.

An officer, a technician's insignia stitched neatly to his epaulettes, stepped forward past the guards. He saluted crisply and Venomspite gestured for him to speak.

''My Lord Captain, we managed to salvage what was left of the data stored in their ship's datacore. It contains DNA sequences, a crew roster and passenger listings. We couldn't get anything else. It was too fractured. I'd suggest sending it away on a courier boat to NavSec, but I doubt there's much more than what we found stored away.''

''Excellent work Lieutenant Silvermoon. My compliments to your team for such quick work.'' Venomspite said.

''The data is stored on our isolation system for now. Should we download it into another core? The server unit we pulled was a standard crystal-memory storage unit, Sir. It wouldn't take many minutes.''

Venomspite pursed his lips in thought then nodded, ''It would be a good idea to not have such information stored in our own core incase we need those systems again sooner rather than later. Get to it, Lieutenant.''

''Aye, Lord Captain.'' Silvermoon turned on his heel and strode from the room.

The door sealed shut behind him and Venomspite turned back to Rosemary and Billy, regarding them with a critical eye. Rosemary stared at the void elf, bewildered and frightened. She hadn't understood a word of what had been said. The language was so alien, it had hurt her ears with its gentle, song-like tones. Trillian didn't seem to be willing to say anything to enlighten her, either.

''Say your pieces before I continue.'' He said blandly, eyeing Rosemary who had gone back to staring warily at Trillian. The tiger was still staring out into open space, his expression blank.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off, turning to face her, holding eye contact so that she could see he was being honest as she could no longer touch his mind. The sudden sharpness of his attention startled her and she gasped softly. The last time she had been pinned by such an intense gaze was when she was aboard the Watchful Eye, something she was hoping to forget. The man sitting before her, haggard and annoyed, was slowly becoming more Synthenoid than Furred and there wasn't a damned thing anyone could do about it.

''I have apologised a multitude of times.'' He said abruptly as if he could read her mind and know the intricacies of her emotions, ''It's always fallen of deaf ears and I'm sick of apologising for someone else's lack of brain power. I will repeat myself one last time however: It was the Admiral in charge of my contracts, Admiral Gensu, that should be apologising as he's the one who sent an exhausted destroyer into a fragile area as opposed to a sensors corvette which is designed for such tasks. We were only there to see which direction Xanimus had gone in and nothing more. There was to be no contact, not unless we found that Xanimus had gone deep at which point we explain our presence and formally request an audience with you commanders to try and figure out a way to work together to capture that little bastard. But the Daglia hauled us in before we could even pick up his trail. I won't say that Angelica overreacted, but I will say that her throwing a willing, mutually agreed upon truce back in my face and endangering and violating my entire crew is unforgivable as far as I'm concerned.

''Thanks to her, I am now once again actively hunted by the Synthenoid Empire so they can effectively enslave me. Several members of my old crew have taken their own lives as they couldn't deal with living with the paranoia that someone's going to hear their thoughts. Others have taken on other identities and vanished into the dark. My life and many others are ruined because of what happened. And that's just on my side of things.'' Trillian said, a growl underscoring his tone. ''What happened, happened because of mistakes on all sides. I am not the one who told her to release those slaves and hand over all her people's tech. That was her doing, something she did of her own volition. Point your finger elsewhere for a change. I'm sick of being everyone's scapegoat.'' He finished with a snarl.

Rosemary's mouth dropped open, tears welling in her eyes. She couldn't make any psychic connection with him to get a feel for the depth of his emotions, but she could see it in the golden glow of his eyes and the by the way he spoke that he was hurt deeply by what had happened. She dropped into the other arm chair, bringing her wing around and groomed the tip of a pinion feather, her eyes downcast. Trillian looked away, feeling somewhat ashamed of his outburst yet justified. He'd heard all the whispers. People were blaming him and him alone for Thymion being the way it is now and ignoring the fact that after a time even the weakest, most beaten slaves often free themselves to wage war on their masters. Even Thymion was blaming him for the situation regardless of the overwhelming evidence to the contrary. From what he had experienced during the course of the year, official reports didn't hold much sway with their people and the truth seemed to be as malleable as a lie, as demonstrated by their Empress.

She sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. She had been unprepared for his outburst and it had cut surprisingly deep, especially since the last time she had met him, he had been a compassionate person and had even apologised to her for what the Synths had done to her, ''Thank you, Captain Spears for finding us. We would have died otherwise. Our cryo pods were failing and were running on what was left of the power in the sublights.'' She looked up, watching him carefully, as if trying to read him, ''You could have left us to rot.''

''I was going to. scrap from Thymion doesn't sell anymore. The market's saturated.'' He muttered.

''But you didn't. You sent out a distress call for us.''

"Just following the Sector Laws.''

Venomspite cleared his throat and stepped in again, seeing that Trillian's mood was souring further, ''Tell me, who is the ruler of the Thymion Empire now?''

''Angelica's mother, Mariana.'' Rosemary replied with a heavy sigh, ''Mariana did what she could to protect the planet, but she could only protect a small area of land. I believe she's still there now, in the heart of our last city, protecting it with a shield of magic.''

''Would she use it offensively? Her magic, that is.'' Venomspite asked. His voice had taken on a smooth lilt and she could feel the magic winding slowly around her like a fine summer morning mist, soothing her aches and pains. His magic felt sickly sweet, like the stuff a necromancer or a high level warlock would weave, but whatever spell it was, it had calmed her significantly. It wasn't invasive, it simply wound itself around her like a warm, fuzzy blanket being draped across her shoulders.

She felt more clear-headed now than she had done before, but the anguish still lingered. She glanced from him to Trillian. Venomspite had a regal air about him and there was a great deal of power, both physical and magical lingering in his aura. He held himself with pride and aloofness that made her want to bow in respect. Trillian meanwhile, was a shell of his former self. Where once he had cut a fine figure in a finely tailored tunic and trousers, his stature imposing yet reassuring, he was now withered and worn out, a lean man that was now constantly teetering on his fight or flight instinct. His morals and self preservation instincts were at war with each other, she could see that much as he vacantly stared at the viewscreen. It had been one-hundred years for her and only a year for him, but time had taken its toll on the tiger just as surely as it had taken its toll on her and her kin. She looked to Venomspite and shook her head, answering his question.

''No, never. She doesn't believe in using her magic for violence in any way. There's too great a chance to cause irreparable harm.'' She replied, thinking about all those stars that had been snuffed out and the remnants of their orbiting planets and their natural satellites.

She stood up, fearing she might doze off in the comfort of the chair and walked over to the viewscreen. She knew she was deep within the Opal, but the viewscreen was tapped into the cruiser's external camera net that paired with the sensors. What she was seeing was happening in real time, as if she was looking out of a window. Her brow creased, a stray, silly thought passing through her mind. Did any of their warships have windows? She knew the Ranger hadn't had any windows, neither had the Vanguard, the Shadow Stalkers dreadnought that had taken Trillian's exhausted and abused crew home. The Deymarii, visible from where she was standing, pressed snugly against the deep purple hull, didn't look to have any windows either. It was a square looking thing, with angular armour plates and a trio of heavily armoured nacelles trailing at the aft. It was ugly, but functional. She leaned close to the viewscreen, fascinated as the view shifted slightly to allow for depth perception. With her right cheek almost pressed flat against the surprisingly cool surface of the vid-screen, she could see a little further down the cruiser's length as if she was looking out of a window for real. She stepped back, confused and curious.

A slight smile graced Trillian's face and a sliver of his old self shone through briefly, his golden eyes flickering with mild amusement, ''Reactive sensors fused with lab grown smart crystal. Practically every warship uses them, as windows are considered a structural weakness.'' He explained, ''Plus, it's one-way, so it stops anyone from looking in to see what's what.'' He scratched the bridge of his nose thoughtfully, ''Who was the third life sign I picked up?''

''Nagia Dashi Meko.'' She steadily replied after a moment, watching his reaction.

The small smile faded and he went back to staring at the viewscreen, his expression blank, his eyes hooded once more. He watching as another Undervilde registered ship turned up, its sleek, deep purple hull shimmering with deep violet traces. She had just emerged from her own realm, a place anchored firmly between realities and the Ethereal Realms that separated them. A small herd of support vessels surrounded her protectively as she came to a full stop alongside the Opal some one-thousand kilometres off the rimward bow. It was the Laksana Innara, roughly translated as Merciful Grace. She was a dedicated hospital ship regardless of the fact that she was as heavily armed as any ship-of-the-line. Shuttles and frigates started departing from their berths and anchorages around the Opal, heading straight toward the Laksana Innara, their cargo the dead, dying and the injured. There was more than the Opal could cope with and so Venomspite had called in the aid of his new colony's one and only hospital. She was massive and had a maximum capacity of two-thousand patients, plus crew. Almost double that if need be, the network of corridors, hallways, hangar and cargo bays able to be easily retrofitted into medical wards. Her life support systems could easily handle all of that.

''As in, Captain Meko, captain of the Daglia?'' He asked, watching the new flurry of carefully synchronized chaos.

''Yes. And she's pregnant, too. Like a lot of those aboard our ship, she had to be put into cryo stasis. Her wounds were grievous. It was the only way to ensure her and her child's survival.''

''And you?''

''Same thing,'' She shrugged, ''Captain Venomspite's soldiers dismantling the cryo pod's framework accidentally initiated an emergency wake up call. Me and Billy fully came to when we were aboard whatever shuttle was used to bring us aboard. She didn't wake up. She still hasn't woken up. Her mind's gone so quiet...'' A soft sob choked her and she rubbed fresh tears from her eyes.

''Miss Meko will make a full recovery thanks to the data we pulled from your ship's core, rest assured of that. It may just take a little longer than what you're used to before she regains consciousness, though.'' Venomspite said. He had taken up position in the corner of the room beside the sofa. His expression was reassuring and a flicker of relief illuminated her eyes. He then went back to talking quietly to one of the guards.

Trillian sucked in a deep breath and spoke softly, ''Look, Rosemary. Contrary to popular belief, I hold no ill towards you or Captain Meko. Meko treated us fairly. You have done nothing to earn my distrust. Billy annoys the crap out of me, but that's mostly from a parental and a professional stand-point; if he knew what Angelica was capable of and what her attitude was like, why the hell didn't he train her how to wield that power? Or find someone who could? The other part of my annoyance stems from his abilities as a starship captain. His willingness to kickstart an intergalactic war and disobey orders from the Ruling Officers of the place he's visiting after he's been told what's what makes me believe him to be a wholly incompetent commander. You do not charge into someone else's territory without announcing yourself unless you're willing to face up to the consequences.'' She looked at him, ready to shout him down and point out, for the millionth time, that that is exactly what he himself had done. And then she realised that, whilst they were mistakes in the same vein, they were completely different in their own way; Trillian had meant no harm. He had simply been tracking a terrorist to help bring him to justice. Billy was ready to go to war upon emerging from stealth, provoking alien races with unknown technologies and skills because he let his personal feelings get in the way of being a professional. The odd look on his face made her laugh long and hard, the sudden burst of joviality a blissful release of tension. He knew exactly what he was saying and he was willing to shamelessly jab at himself to get his point across.

''As for Angelica... I want you to understand. Try to understand as I am trying to understand your plight; what she did to my crew was unforgivable. As captain of the Ranger, it was my duty to see to the wellbeing and safety of those people, and, when she boarded, hers. The crew of a ship is the captain's responsibility. At the end of the day, we make the final calls. We make the choices of how best to spend their lives if need be. We are trained specifically, all throughout our careers how best to handle these things and deal with bad situations. We learn that we must choose the better of two evils when the need arises. A lot of people don't make it that far up the career ladder, and I'd say they're the lucky ones. Being in charge of something so great is hard work and it's mentally difficult. Each death weighs on my soul, Rosemary. Each wound inflicted upon them. And she effectively raped them by continuously going into their minds without their permission, breaking their mental barriers and rifling through their most sensitive memories and thoughts, and finding out their secrets. People become mercenaries and pirates for a reason. And those reasons are no one's but their own. Do you understand? Some of the people who served under me have taken their own lives because of her. Some of them won't even be able to pass on into their believed afterlives because she violated their souls. Good people, people with families. My distrust and ire lies solely with her and no one else because of the promises she so willingly and knowingly broke. And she laughed and mocked us as she did it all.'' He sighed and leaned back in his chair, slouched and exhausted, but glad that she was listening to him, ''I am sorry I snapped at you. But like you, I've lost everything dear to me. First my parents. Then my wife and son, my commission and career along with it, and then my sister and nephew.'' He flexed his gloved fingers, staring at them with distaste, ''And now I am losing contact with who I really am. What I really am. Not a day goes by that I regret not giving the order to open fire on the Daglia with everything the Ranger had. It would have saved my crew from a life of torment. Death is preferable to this.''

Horrified by his last words, Rosemary sank into a crouch beside him, looking up into his face. She placed a hand on his, ''Trillian-''

''I'm not looking for pity.'' He said, his tone blunt, ''I'm just asking for you to try to understand my side of things as I am trying to understand yours. My C.Os fucked up and I faced the consequences of their poor decisions with as much dignity as I could. I do not condone what those skin-bags are doing to your people and I'm hoping that they go extinct sooner rather than later, because losing Thymion and its culture would be a great blow to everyone. Your people are distrusted because those who live close to the Thymion Void have lived in fear for a very long time. They've endured centuries of paranoia, wondering with each waking moment when their star is next on the list. You have a chance at survival. A chance to take back what's yours. But you and everyone else need to stop pointing fingers and get on with figuring out an offensive.''

''We can't fight back against those monsters! They're tearing reality apart and weaponizing it! They can open up a rift to swallow ships whole without a trace or simply fire their shots through them! They can kill you from anywhere in the Empire and you won't even realise it as it's already too late. No one can hope to survive this mess if they go in.'' She said, her tone desperate, her grip on his hand firm and pleading.

Trillian grinned a feral grin as he saw Venomspite step into his peripheral. Unbeknownst to Rosemary, Trillian had been in constant contact with the void elf via their wetware, conversing and plotting on a frequency they had created with each other in the heat battle years ago. Venomspite handed Trillian an embossed envelope, with a green wax seal bearing the Venomspite royal family sigil.

''One last hurrah for the mercenary circuit on my behalf, Captain Spears?'' He purred dangerously. Trillian accepted the envelope and stood up, pulling Rosemary back to her feet. He looked at her, mischief dancing in his eyes. ''The coffers of the Venomspite family is at your disposal. Do what you can, because we need all the information we can get.''

''Never tried privateering before.'' Trillian mused as he opened the envelope. It contained a letter of marque, signed by Captain Venomspite himself and his Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander Itasha. The ship's legal officer had also signed it. It was made out to Trillian and Trillian only, giving him the ability to seize anything Thymion related in the name of the Undervilde Star Kingdom and her allies.

''Privateering...?'' Rosemary asked, her train of thought derailed by the sudden upswing in his mood. He was still broken, teetering on the edge of an abyss that was threatening to swallow him whole, but Venomspite had apparently thrown him a life line of sorts.

''It's basically a license to be a pirate.'' Trillian said.

''Within in reason.'' Venomspite said smoothly, eyeing Trillian up.

''Within reason.'' He replied. He turned back to Rosemary, ''As for navigating that temporal mess... well, this lot are about to give them Tems one hell of a shock.''

''A swift merciless extinction awaits them.''

Trillian saluted to Venomspite, nodded to Rosemary and left. Rosemary turned to the viewscreen, her eyes wide as she felt the void elf's thoughts churning with a murderous cunning that hadn't been there before. A few minutes passed in silence before the Deymarii pulled away from the Opal and burned for open space. It then vanished in a tiny flicker of blue light.

''Where's he going? Why have you given him license to become a pirate?'' She asked, turning to stare at Venomspite in horror. She looked to Billy briefly, checking on him. He was still fast asleep, tucked into the deep sofa cushions with fitful dreams. She reached out with her mind and soothed the husky until his nervous twitching and mutterings ceased, replaced by the snores of a much needed, deep slumber.

''He may be down on his luck, but he will only use that letter if need be. As for where he's gone, he's gone to the local auction houses and boltholes that people like him frequent to see what he can turn up. Because the more data we have, the more chance of freeing Thymion from this mess we have.''

''Why would you help us like this?''

''Because, as Mister Spears said, his only ire is for one person and one person only. And I respect his judgement. It is something that saved my life. More than once.'' He grinned wryly and gestured towards the door, ''Since you, Miss Meko and your sleeping friend are the only ones around who are close to the core of this mess, I have had sleeping quarters prepared for you. Your time in the medibay went smoothly, so I would invite you to dine with me so you can hear me out on a full stomach. Don't worry, he will be taken to the medibay for full treatment now our task force has whisked everyone else away for treatment. And I assure you, it is all fresh food. The perishables need to be eaten first, so I hope you like spiced meat and roasted vegetables.'' He said, escorting her from the small ante chamber. A quartet of medical personnel piled into the room behind them and put Billy onto a lightly padded litter and then hustled him out of the room.