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Director's Log, Ripple Gate Station Charles, June 23rd, 2550:

There's a certain irony about isolation, at least in the era of modern and instantaneous communication: no matter how far you are away from the outside, it always manages to catch up to you. I was among billions who watched the drama of what is now being called the Poplar Village Massacre being played out in real time and true color; I believe I remain among the few who also received word of a different character, being both the major research director on the ripple gate station and having had past associations with the black side of the armed forces.

Operation Solitude is now in force.

Even as I write it, it's so hard to believe that things have progressed from executing the leaders of a murderous conspiracy to pledging the entire power of SAF to exterminate a sentient people. On top of this terrible reality, yet another matter has intruded upon the isolation on this station.

Recently, one of our probes returned early for the unorthodox reason of needing its external instruments replaced. We were disconcerted to learn that the sensors had been ripped off by what seems to be a high-speed projectile like a rail gun slug. Examining the logs, we found that the probe recorded evidence of a civilization on the other side of the ripple gate. All it can tell us, due to severe damage to the memory core, is that they are a highly advanced industrial society concentrated mostly on a ruined world not unlike Earth of 6 centuries ago. The ripple gate has been closed down and I'm certain little more will be done, at least for the time being. With our armed forces dedicated to the grim harvest of the lupus garou, I simply cannot imagine any situation that would drive us to court a confrontation with yet another alien people.

Dr. Melinda Campbell

Director, Astrophysical Research

Approximately 5 years later...

The work day had already been a long one when Sera walked into the quarters she shared with the night-duty security technician. One of the first things she realized was that the room was a wreck; the second thing she realized was that she wanted to kill her roommate. Kicking a shirt aside, she walked over to her bed to and flopped down. As with most days in the Gaia Shipyards, she was exhausted by the end and the other technician was no help. First, he'd woken her up an hour early singing off-key in the showers (although he stopped when screamed at) then he'd scattered her tools trying to dig through his mess to find is own, forcing her to frantically gather them before rushing to her first task of the day. Finally, the commander had assigned her the easy but extremely time-consuming job of visually inspecting the security systems onboard. As if to add insult to injury, she had even been forced to get a hamburger for lunch because it was the only thing she could carry around with her as she worked; it always aggravated her when she couldn't enjoy a nice sit-down lunch of bratwurst and sauerkraut, two of her favorite foods from back home. Given all that, the perfect end to the day was getting back to the shared apartments to find that her idiotic roommate had scattered clothing everywhere, probably frantically getting dressed due to his chronic oversleeping, and made a real mess of the room.

"That moron..." She muttered in her slightly German accent. "How did I manage to get paired up with a slob instead of someone that would be decently tidy?"

She began laying down and found that he'd left one of his sweat-stained shirts wadded up on her pillow; with a soft growl, she flung it across the room towards his bed and determinedly lay her head down. Admittedly, while her work as an electronics and computer security asset on the gargantuan orbital shipyards was tedious, it was generally not nearly as exhausting as recently. Over the last two months, the pace of work had seriously picked up in response to a total retrofit of a Redux-class battleship and Dragoness-class carrier that occupied the fortified hangers in the middle of the yards. The high work pace and SAFC special orders to give the two capital ships first priority meant that the shipyard's scheduled security upgrade had to be compressed into two weeks instead of two months and that meant that her high position on the totem pole netted her more work rather than less. Things were slowly starting to wind down again which meant that the heightened stress was beginning to bleed off but it was still a game of trying to get things back into the pace that they'd been before the disruption. A personal message of gratitude from SAFC-Naval and an official commendation greatly mitigated Sera's annoyance but what was left of it easily focused onto the ever-present irritant of her slovenly human roommate.

She had to admit: the man had his redeeming qualities. He was properly deferential to her commissioned-officer rank, he was timely with his half of the apartment payment, and his disorganized ways bellied a respectable intellect so Sera didn't have to deal with someone who was both a slob and an imbecile. All and all, she supposed, there were much worse single human males in the technical services.

She was jarred out of her reflection by the unnaturally precise tapping of "shave-and-a-haircut-two-bits" on the door to the quarters. She straightened herself up immediately and looked around the room with a fresh surge of irritation. From the unusual knock, she knew that the station's commander had decided to make an impromptu visit which made her all the more embarrassed by the unkempt appearance of the room. Deciding there was no help for it, she got up and tapped the automatic open button. With a quiet hiss, the door slid open to reveal the very person she'd expected, a tall and mildly handsome draccian in civilian dress fatigues, the uniform most commonly worn among military personnel with a long-term posting on a civilian station. While a relatively loose and extremely comfortable clothing design, higher-ups always managed to keep at least one part, the metal rank pips, shining as if making sure it'd pass inspection. He smiled slightly at her and stepped inside.

"Good evening, Captain Wilson." He said briskly, albeit with the ghost of a warm smile. "May I come in?"

"Yessir, please do, sir." She replied, giving him a respectful salute as she stepped back into the room to let him in. "I apologize, sir, that my apartment isn't in the best shape."

"Your roommate, am I right?" He looked around and gave her a toothy grin. "You don't need to reply, Captain, I'm old enough to have endured at least a dozen roomies and more bunkmates than I want to think about. I understand fully."

"Thank you, sir." She permitted herself the hint of a smile at the mental image of the clearly older officer gazing with consternation at a sloppy roommate's handiwork. "Other than to make me feel better, may I ask the purpose of your visit?"

"You may." He nodded. "In fine, I've received orders that you are to be transferred. Apparently, SAFC has determined that you are badly needed elsewhere."

Sera was shocked into silence at the totally unexpected news, astonished that there hadn't been some indication, some sort of rumor floating around that she was to be abruptly reassigned. The commander quirked an eye ridge at her and smiled with sympathy. "You are no more shocked than I was, Serafine." He told her, surprising her by addressing her in more familiar terms all of a sudden. "I admit to being very distressed at losing an exceptionally fine officer when we're just ramping down from the emergency refit SAFN demanded but the orders come from quite a ways up the chain."

Sera nodded at the implication; the commander was apparently thinking the same thing she was about the remarkable coincidence of her being transferred right after the highly unusual orders from SAFN. "I have a feeling, sir, that neither of us believe in coincidences." She remarked. "Can you tell me if my new posting has anything to do with the refit?"

"I can." He nodded. "But only that your posting wasn't one of the vessels that was undergoing upgrades. Given the timing of the retrofits and these orders, I would speculate that wherever the transfer papers say you're going isn't where you'll actually be. I recommend keeping your eyes wide open, Captain."

Sera chuckled. "Only if I find myself posted with an old army buddy, sir." She replied with a wide smile. "The pranks my class used to subject each other to..."

The commander laughed. "Ah, to be young again." He smiled warmly. "Your shuttle leaves in two days. I would much prefer to give you a proper sendoff but given the circumstances, a handshake and best wishes will have to do." He reached out a hand and grasped hers in the customary draccian way: nearly breaking her hand from accidentally gripping harder than he meant to. Having gone through many handshakes with a draccian, she valiantly gripped back as hard as she could and saluted with her suddenly-sore paw.

"Thank you, sir." She said. "It's been a pleasure to serve under you."

"It has been a pleasure to have your service, Captain Wilson." He replied promptly. "You are a credit to SAFAG. I can only hope your next CO properly appreciates you." Leaving her with her mind whirling, lists of things she needed to set in order racing through her thoughts, he saluted and stepped back through the door, disappearing behind the sliding metal.

"Excuse me, captain?" Sera looked up from her book into the clean-shaven face of a SAFN pilot in a uniform so freshly-laundered that she could still faintly smell which brand of detergent was used. "You are Captain Serafine A. Wilson?"

"I am." She nodded, getting to her feet and reaching for her bags. The pilot hoisted one of her duffels onto a shoulder before she could grab it and extended a hand.

"Good to meet you, ma'am." He smiled politely. "I'm the pilot that'll be flying you to your new assignment as specified in your transfer papers. If you'll step this way, we can lift off promptly."

"Thank you, pilot." Sera returned his polite smile and followed him to one of the small Jumper-class transport shuttles typically used for small personnel transports. She noticed that it had been stripped of its normal weapons loadout but as she stepped inside, she could see the thick armor plating still bolted to the ship's frame.

She sat down and turned to look at the pilot as he placed her other bag beside her on the floor. "Don't you usually fly these things loaded out, even in the Solar system?" She inquired.

"Lady, I'm a good boy but I ain't gonna fly some damn ungainly trash hauler unless I gotta." He grinned as he stepped passed her and strapped himself into the pilot's seat. "All those guns make this thing waddle like a drunk water buffalo in Nigerian river mud. Without ‘em, at least it's sober."

Sera laughed, reminded vividly of just about every SAFN pilot she'd ever met that wasn't still wet behind the ears. "Either you're more ballsy than most, pilot, or you're some kinda ace."

"Double ace, Cap'n darlin'." He told her as the engines warmed up for takeoff. "Got me twelve painted skulls on my baby back home if you know what I'm sayin'. My honey treats me right and the wife don't do a bad job either."

"Thirty-five or sixty-six?" Sera asked him, smiling and relaxing slightly at the pilot's friendly swagger.

"My baby's thin as a rail, Cap'n, but she's got some sharp claws." He grinned, easing the transport out of the hanger. "Lil bit o' fire, lil bit o' claw, and one helluva right hook when I talk to her nicely."

"Falcon pilot. Figures." Sera just chuckled again and shook her head, turning it to look out the nearest viewport as they pulled away from the Gaia Shipyards. She supposed that there had never been a structure quite its scale anywhere in history, a massive station floating in high orbit of the Earth looking all the world like an elegant crown atop the cloud-spotted blue of the planet below. As they turned towards Mars, she could see one of Leviathan Heavy Industries' mobile dockyards, a colossus that dwarfed even a carrier, easing into the refit docks. "Looks like I escaped just in time... if refitting a couple capital ships is bad, taking care of a Colossus is a waking hell."

"I'd think so." The pilot nodded. "But man, do we SAFN boys love those dockyards. Our flattop gets banged up, those grease monkeys make her shine again. My baby gets bruised and they take care of her. I hear they can even give my honey bigger teeth if I ask ‘em real pretty."

"Mighty decent of Leviathan to give them to you on permanent loan." Sera smiled. "So... how ‘bout you tell me where I'm going? I didn't exactly have all day to check out the transfer papers."

The pilot shook his head stoically. "I'm afraid I cannot tell you that, Cap'n." He replied, assuming the stiff pose and faux accent of a paper pusher. "It is not the business of transport pilots to know more than their pay grade."

"How about you pretend that you've got an admiral's pay grade and answer the question, eaglet." Sera grinned widely at him, knowing that the ‘eaglet' would push a button. She wasn't disappointed; the pilot got a sour expression on his face and turned around in the seat to glare at her. "You did not just call me a rookie, sand-eater." He growled.

"So what if I did?" Sera kept grinning at him, enjoying the contortions his face went through before he finally realized she was just yanking his chain.

"Oh, you're a sly one, Cap'n darlin'." He chuckled, turning back around. "You got your ears dried out in the ‘slin', didn't you?"

"Yeah." Sera nodded, recognizing the nickname that graduates used for the Sir Lord Nelson Naval Academy. "Me and this obscure little puppy named Williams."

"No kiddin'?" The pilot glanced back, looking impressed. "You and the navy's favorite bitch ran together?"

"Yup... me, Myna, and this starved-looking draccian brainiac who turned out to be a senator's daughter named Natalie Ivanovich." Sera smiled nostalgically. "Those were some great times."

"Bet they were." He actually smiled now. "Well, since you're tight with our golden girl, here's what I know. Seems that you're getting shipped to this open-space station called Arid and then transferred to one of SAFN's newer frigates. Scuttlebutt has it that something really big is going on and you've got a starring role but you didn't hear that from me, clear?"

"Well, seeing as how I don't know who ya are, pilot, mighty hard to blame you for knowing things you shouldn't." Sera winked. "Don't suppose you'll do me the pleasure?"

"Call me Weed." He winked back. "Real name's Pilot Officer Bong but everyone either calls me ‘Mary' or ‘Weed' and since you and I don't slug each other out of brotherhood, you get to use the second one."

"Weed then." She nodded. "No, I won't tell a soul, promise. After all, being a dirt-pounder, I might need you one day. So what's with the limey rank?"

"British girls are cuter than Yanks." He replied simply. "That, and they boast one helluva beer. Mmm... what I wouldn't do for one of their stouts when I'm out in the boonies huntin' pirates."

"My dear officer, you've never tried a German beer, have you?" Sera grinned at him. "Limey beer... peh. It's water. If you want something strong, I know of a nice little place no one's ever heard of in Bavaria."

"If I'm ever in the land of Deutsch, I might take you up on that." Weed looked back at her thoughtfully. "You know, since I've got you as a temporary captive audience, there's a question that's always been bothering me. Is the scuttlebutt about Admiral Williams and some friend of hers at a demerit-earning legend of a graduation party true?"

Sera briefly pursed her lips in annoyance; she had completely forgotten about this particular bit of gossip. "I wouldn't know." She replied sourly, a little too much so based on the surprised look and wicked grin that Weed acquired.

"Oh. Oh dear me." He grinned. "You must not have been kidding about how strong German beer is, Cap'n. You simply must provide me with details."

"There are no details." Sera growled, annoyed with herself for encouraging him. "Almost everyone there got drunk stupid and a few of the plebes got the idea that me and Shadow had gotten intimate. Shadow isn't as convincing of a denier as I am... she blushes at the least provocation so they just got more convinced than they were before."

"Even if that's true, you're never getting rid of it, you know." Weed chuckled, turning back to his work as Deimos came into view on the lower edge of the forward screen, indicating that they were going to pass it by as they sailed by Mars' north pole. "It's just too juicy of a story and frankly, guys love that kind of mental imagery."

"I'm sure." Sera shook her head in resigned amusement.

"You just give your old flame my best, Cap'n darlin'." Weed smirked at her. "That's the other scuttlebutt... she's gonna be the boss."

"No kidding?" Sera couldn't help but smile. "That's wonderful. It's been far too long since I've seen my friend in person. So'd someone finally promote her?"

"Hell yeah!" Weed exclaimed. "She's a full-fish admiral now."

"No kidding." Sera shook her head in amazement. "I knew it'd happen eventually but I didn't imagine it'd be so soon. I can't wait to see her again now! Gold dolphins at 30..."

"I hear she was their top pick for the slot." Weed confirmed. "Well, we're coming up on Arid. Helluva ugly thing but it's got it where it counts. Shame we're gonna hafta part ways now, Cap'n darlin', but my baby needs me and there's buccaneers needin' hangin'."

"With my luck, Pilot Officer, I'll run across you when neither of us expect it." Sera chuckled as she glanced out at the fortified station just beyond high orbit of Mars. "Happy hunting."

The open-space station Arid was an entirely new experience for Sera. She had always seen military stations at a distance, able to pick out a few vague details and features from its external appearance but having never seen the inside of one. Also, she admitted to herself as the elevator bringing her up from the hanger opened onto her destination floor, she'd never really been in a facility run by SAFN. Up until now, she had only experienced the rather disciplined environment that the station administration and the commander attempted to create aboard the shipyards, a fairly predictable situation with a multitude of rules and procedures to govern most important things. SAF, she knew quite well from personal experience, was a different beast entirely. It was simultaneously recreational and ruthless, casual and briskly efficient, indifferent about interpersonal intimacy while intolerant of anything that might affect combat effectiveness. It certainly took some getting used to, a fact that was brought home very abruptly to Sera as she stepped onto the main deck from the elevator.

The first thing she saw was a crowd of grunts and officers hanging around what seemed to be the reception desk. Some were out of uniform and a couple guys were hitting on a female officer with her laughing and teasing them as they practiced their pick-up lines. Sera shook her head in amusement, wondering why there didn't seem to be anyone to report in to; the other female officer was visibly lower in rank and just as visibly off duty. Not sure what else she should do, she shifted one of the duffels to hang more comfortably on a shoulder and walked over to the chattering group.

"Well, check this out." One of the grunts grinned as she approached. "Fresh meat."

"Cut that out." The officer chided mildly, turning to give Sera a quick welcoming salute. "Good day, Captain. Is there something I might do for you?"

"Captain Serafine A. Wilson, transferring in from security division on board the Gaia Shipyards." Sera replied, shifting her duffels again to return the salute. "I was under the impression that it's customary for me to report in to a superior officer upon arrival."

"If I was aware you were coming, Captain, I'd have personally ensured it." The officer replied, looking properly embarrassed. "I believe, however that in this particular case, it was a deliberate omission because I did not need to know."

"You didn't." Sera glanced over towards the only soldier who wasn't grouped around the desk but was instead lounging on a series of bench seats reading a paperback. He was human but as he looked over the edge of the book at her, she got the impression of someone who wasn't what they appeared to be.

"And you did?" The officer asked in clear annoyance.

"Naturally." He closed the book and stood up. "I was expecting you to be an hour later, Captain. Who was your pilot?"

"Call himself ‘Weed'." Sera replied. "I must say, you don't look like a superior officer."

"I'm not." He smiled wanly. "However, you're here to talk to me so I can tell you where to report in." To Sera's surprise, he walked forward and extended his hand. "It is an honor, Captain Wilson."

"Uh... why?" Sera took his hand automatically, not quite sure of this odd human who gave off the aura of authority normally reserved for an officer.

"Various reasons, not the least of which because you are highly-regarded by Admiral Williams who is, in turn, highly-regarded by the entire Governance." He shook her hand firmly and smiled. "I apologize for wasting your time but you actually passed your destination on the way to this main deck. Deck D, a couple decks above the hanger, is where you'll find someone to officially report in to. I'll call and tell him to expect you in a minute or two."

"And... my bags?"

"Dump them in the storage room; it's the second door on your right when you exit the elevator." He replied offhandedly, returning to his seat. "From there, they'll find their way to where you're going."

"Thank you." Sera gave the man a salute and repeated the gestures towards the other officer before trudging back to the elevator and hitting the button for deck D. Another moment of movement, another door opening, this time looking upon a well-cleaned and very orderly corridor with numerous doors lining it. Just like the nondescript man above had said, the second door to her right was a storage area, a well-organized row of large shelves that Sera hoisted her bags into, unzipping a pouch to remove her handheld personal computer before exiting.

She couldn't see anyone in the corridors and turned her PC on, connecting it to the station network before following its directions to a small waiting area of some sort, a featureless room with chairs and not much else. Shrugging, she took a seat and switched the computer to reader mode, bringing up a digitalized version of a historical fiction novel that Shadow had turned her onto in recent letter. So engrossed was she that when someone loudly cleared his throat in front of her that she jumped and dropped the pad-like machine on the floor.

"Good day, Captain." He said briskly. "Sorry about having to use a proxy to meet you upstairs. I hope he wasn't too much of an arrogant git for you."

"He wasn't all that different than most special ops folks." Sera shrugged. "I take it this is all sort of hush-hush if you didn't grab me yourself."

"Actually, he's a gopher that works for SAFC." The officer, wearing the star and double-stripe of a major replied. "The importance has gone to his head a little but he's got a brain for the black if you know what I mean. Yes, you're being tapped for something that's not meant to be widely-known although it's not necessarily classified."

"Well, that's good." Sera nodded. "Something related to the Edict or...?"

"No, nothing like that thankfully." He smiled slightly. "That front has calmed down somewhat which is why we can now focus our attention on a different matter. I trust that your trip went well?"

"It was pleasant enough, sir, thank you." She replied. "My pilot wasn't right in the head but flyboys generally aren't."

"Weed, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"He's the only guy who's that good but seems that crazy." The major winked. "At any rate, I'm here to give you a preliminary run-up on what this is all about. First, though, I want to know what Weed told you so I don't repeat information you know."

"Just that I'm going to be posted on one of SAFN's newer frigates and that my ultimate boss is going to be my dearest friend, Admiral Myna Williams." Sera replied truthfully. "How'd you...?"

"Double-ace means that a flyboy is a smart S.O.B. and all flyboys run their mouths more than is good for them." He shrugged. "There's no way he would know anything important so there's no reason to give him a hard time over it."

"That, and the politics of clipping a good pilot's wings." Sera pointed out, smiling slightly.

"There is that as well." He admitted. "At any rate, here is the situation. About five years ago, SAFES initiated something they called ‘Project Omniscience' using innovative instrumental probes in conjunction with the newly-invented ripple gate. Their goal was to create a rough map of carefully-selected portions of the Milky Way galaxy. The project had just gotten off the ground when one of their probes triggered its recall signal and got pulled back. The thing had been smacked by a railgun slug or something similar to it... the hit was too precise and smooth to be a random piece of junk or a micrometeorite. Concerned about the risk that whatever shot at the probe could figure out how to retrace its steps, the ripple gate was shut down and Gaia Fleet was temporarily moved closer to it."

Sera nodded, remembering Shadow having mentioned the unexplained repositioning during one of their long conversations after the Poplar Village incident. "I seem to remember hearing about that, sir. Please go on."

"Well, things have calmed down significantly on this end of things so SAFC has decided to send an Epsilon-class science vessel through the gate with a small military task force to protect it." He continued. "The task force will be composed of a Dragoness-class carrier, Lady Lex, the newest mark of the Stryker-class frigates, Marauder, and a newly-refitted Redux-II battleship, Redux Executor. As you were told, Admiral Myna K. Williams will be in overall command of the task force and will be using the Executor as her flagship. Your posting is to the SAFAG contingent that will be housed on the Marauder and further details will be given to you at the command meeting starting in a few minutes. The task force's purpose is to survey the system from which the probe returned in bad shape and possibly establish preliminary relations with whatever power lays on the other side that may lead to formal diplomatic contact. Most important, however, will be the safety of the Searcher and especially the personnel that will be traveling aboard."

"Eggheads on board a science ship are more important than possible diplomatic contacts with another civilization?" Sera's eyes widened. "Did someone resurrect Einstein or something?"

"I wasn't told." He replied succinctly. "I believe that your friend at the top can answer that question. In fact... you might be early, Captain, but I seem to recall that a preliminary command meeting is starting soon in one of the secure conference rooms."

"A formal meet-and-greet?"

"Something like that, I imagine. I'm just a lowly intelligence officer so I'm not invited." He gave a resigned sigh. "Then again, I don't exactly envy you the opportunity either."

"Why not?" Sera looked at him askance.

"Well, most of the officers on this expedition of yours are good as gold and some are even better." He replied a bit hesitantly.

"But...?" She prompted him after a moment.

"But one of them is a real piece of work." He finally finished. "The gopher upstairs might let his position go to his head a little but he can be a good guy if you're sharing a drink. This other guy, though, some colonel from higher up in the intelligence division... I've never met someone quite so easy to despise."

"Well, for his sake, he'd better be a quick study." Sera snorted. "If he's just a colonel, Shadow more than outranks him and she has no tolerance for jerks."

"I hope she can teach him a lesson." The major replied with a worried frown. "There's just something else about him that doesn't sit right. C'mon, the conference area is this way."

Sera nodded to this observation, now more curious than ever to see this unpleasant colonel. She followed the major out of the room, neither of them saying anything during the quick walk to the end of the corridor and a short jaunt to the right. She was taken aback by the presence of two SAFAG soldiers standing to either side of the door wearing an unusual uniform. Instead of the black, red, and charcoal color scheme of the SAF's ground forces, they were wearing a dark blue uniform with matching pants, a white stripe running down the right leg and a red stripe running down the left. Their hats were a typical officer's cap but white with a blue band the traditional silver star in the center. Both were carrying long rifles which they removed from their shoulders and panted butt-first on the ground before giving the major a salute.

"Good morning, Major." One said with an air of brisk efficiency. "Who might this be?"

"Captain Serafine Anne Wilson, formerly stationed on the Gaia Shipyards." The major replied. "Has the meeting begun yet?"

"You arrived in good time." The soldier replied, turning to look at Sera. "A pleasure, Captain. Please go right in...the major cannot accompany you beyond this point, regrettably."

"No regrets, sergeant." The major chuckled. "Me and the captain no longer have the same boss." He glanced at Sera. "Give my regards to the admiral, Captain, and good luck."

"Thank you, sir." She exchanged salutes with him and shook hands before the guard that hadn't spoken turned and triggered the door open, gesturing her inside before the door swooshed shut behind her.

Sera was surprised at the small number of officers gathered around the conference table that dominated most of the room. She had expected that it would probably be a short chain of command but only five individuals were present. Four of which she didn't recognize but the fifth... she barely had time to smile before her friend had swept her into an overjoyed embrace.

"It has been far too long, my dear friend." Myna all but whispered to her in a slightly husky voice, the lovely tinge of a Scottish brogue coloring it. "Far, far too long."

Sera embraced the slightly shorter wolven tightly. "It really has been, hasn't it?" She murmured back, releasing Myna and stepping back. "Good heavens, Shadow, you haven't changed a bit in the last five years!"

"Oh, that hurt." Shadow grinned widely, reaching a finger up to absently tuck a strand of sandy blonde hair behind an ear. "My uniform is nicer and my rank insignias are shinier."

"I hear that some madman promoted you again." Sera teased. "C'mon, show me."

Shadow's ears twitched and lowered slightly, a gesture of shy delight that Sera remembered all too well, and she turned to show the gold dolphin with three stars and a lowercase gamma under it. Sera couldn't help her eyes widening; she'd just assumed that her old friend had been promoted to vice-admiral but not only did the three stars indicate full admiral but the gamma...

"Gaia Fleet?" She gaped at Shadow who blushed vividly. "They gave you ?"

Shadow's blush deepened but she smiled proudly. "Just got kicked upstairs last month." She confirmed. "Steuban decided to take early retirement for his grandkids and I was selected to succeed him."

"Admiral, as charming as it is that you've met the long-lost friend you requested from SAFC, perhaps this time would be better spent on our assignment?" An unctuous voice, tinged with amused disdain, interrupted.

"Colonel, as much as you like to open your mouth, perhaps your comments would be much more helpful if they were never voiced." From a shy blush, Shadow's face had instantly transformed into the very picture of aggravation, her smile turning into a tight frown as she turned to look at the speaker. Sera craned her neck and immediately saw who was talking: a blonde-haired young-looking human with a pale complexion and a distinctly superior smirk sitting back in his chair next to another human who looking just as distinctly unhappy about being seated next to the man. This, Sera immediate knew, was the "piece of work" the major had warned her of.

"Oh, oh, yes Admiral. I apologize." He replied in a tone of voice that made it clear that he didn't mean it at all.

"Sure you do." Shadow sighed. "Grab a seat, o Captain my Captain. It appears that Colonel Jenkins is bored.

"Sounds great." Sera let her eyes linger on the other female for a moment, taking a moment to wonder how it is that Shadow looked like the same grey-furred sandy-haired 18-year-old pup that she went through the ‘slin' with before sitting down between a blue-scaled draccian wearing captain chevrons and a starved-looking wolven with uniform white fur.

Shadow returned to her place at the head of the table and looked over the assembled. "Let us begin." She started. "By now, you have all been made aware through a briefing by the intelligence branch of SAFAG about the events leading up to this expedition. You have also been made aware of the general outlines of the task force's mission in the space that the ripple gate will propel us to. As I doubt very many of you have had occasion to encounter one another, considering the significant distances of time and space between your assignments, I feel that I ought to introduce the core officers of this expedition, starting with myself."

Before Shadow could continue, Colonel Jenkins loudly cleared his throat. "With all due respect, Admiral." He said slowly, making it abundantly clear that he had no intention of conveying respect. "Unless all of the intelligence officers were reading from a script, it seems possible that we may each be in possession of slightly different sets of details as to the basic outline of our mission. Would it not be a more effective use of time to present a uniform outline?"

Shadow turned to him and gave him a disbelieving stare. "You simply cannot be serious." She said bluntly, in the manner that Sera remembered her friend's grandfather as having been said to have directed at incompetent subordinates. "You want me to waste time going over the same material you, as the officer most closely affiliated with intelligence, ought to be most familiar with? You're our intelligence asset, although I have yet to see evidence of it. YOU provide this uniform explanation, Colonel."

"You're the commanding officer, Admiral." The man retorted. "I may know all of the details of reports, theories, and educated guesses but SAFC no doubt ensured that you would be briefed as to their intentions for this expedition beyond what we have been told."

"You well know that the personal briefing to the commanding officer is none of your affair, Colonel." Shadow snorted. "But since you seem unwilling to discharge your duties in an adequate matter... very well." Despite having acquiesced, Sera saw that her friend was unusually aggravated over the colonel's sneering mannerisms, final proof in her mind that the major she'd spoken to had pegged Jenkins correctly. "Our mission is to escort an Epsilon class science ship into the believed hostile space on the other side. One there, we are to protect them from all attack and make sure they can complete their scans and studies. If there is an intelligent race on the other side whose language we can translate, we are to deal with them as we see fit."

Sera frowned a bit at the somewhat ominous sound of ‘as we see fit' but at the same time, nodded. She knew that the command staff of the SAF had selected Shadow, easily SAFN's most talented admiral, for a very good reason and that, in and of itself, concerned her. The last time Shadow had been called on to deal with a problem, it had been only a hair short of a crisis. The colonel seemed strangely satisfied by the extremely short explanation, giving Sera the strange feeling that he was pleased with himself for an entirely different reason.

Shadow looked around the table slowly. "Now, if there is nothing else, I would like to introduce you all first to Captain Nomi Rousseau of Alsace-Lorraine, France." The blue-scaled draccian stood and bowed her head politely towards the admiral. "She will be in command of the Stryker-class frigate Marauder where the task force's SAFAG contingent will be quartered during our mission."

"Oui, mon admirale." The draccian replied merrily in a classic French accent. "It will be an honor working with all of you, especially our dear admiral." She added, the accent gone as if she'd flipped a switch. "And lest you worry, I just exhausted half of my knowledge of my native language."

The comment occasioned a chuckle from the rest of the table, even Jenkins who almost cracked a real smile. Nomi sat down and Sera stood as Shadow gestured to her.

"This is Captain Serafine Wilson. She's from the Ruhr Valley of Germany and daughter of the gunsmith who designed the Wilhelm-32 assault rifle. I had her transferred from security detail to the Marauder to act as the commanding officer of the contingent. She will be..."

"Isn't a standard SAFAG contingent at least brigade strength, Admiral?" Jenkins interrupted, drawing a glare from Shadow.

"That is true, Colonel. At any rate, Captain Wilson..."

"And is it not standard regulation that brigades be overseen by a brigadier general?" The colonel continued as if Shadow hadn't tried to start speaking again.

"If you have a point, Colonel, please stop wasting my time and just blab it out since you don't seem to have the good sense to wait until I've finished my sentence." Shadow growled at him.

"My point, admiral, is that either you're proposing having an officer who has yet to advance through the requisite ranks and USC approval command a unit of soldiers that normally requires both qualifications or you're going to advance the security officer of some backwater station to the required rank by entirely bypassing the civilian government." Jenkins replied with an edge of nastiness. "In either case, you ought to well know that having a celebrated grandparent hardly qualifies you to ignore regulations that include the USC's oversight."

The room went totally silent as everyone stared in astonishment at Jenkins. SAF was known for its casual nature and acceptance of borderline-inappropriate relations between officers and soldiers but Jenkins had openly and quite blatantly stepped over the line. Even more, he was sitting there with the most aggravating smirk on his face as Shadow's shock made the transition to anger.

"Colonel, you are so far out of line you can't even see the line." She replied in a cold and deliberate tone. "You are also suspiciously uninformed about the disposition of ranks; you seem to think that you're my superior officer instead of a punk intel weenie. If the victor of the battle in Poplar Village isn't capable of commanding soldiers, very few are. Speak out of turn again and I will replace you. That is one of the special privileges of having a worshipped war hero in the family and being well-loved by SAFC."

The colonel frowned heavily but he seemed able to tell when he was beaten; wisely, he remained silent and nodded.

The nod seemed to mollify Shadow, at least enough for her to sigh and look at Sera. "I'm sorry, Sera... now where was I again?"

"I think you covered everything, Shadow." Sera smiled at her. "So who's next?"

"I believe that would be myself, Captain." The thin wolven beside Sera stood up and gave her a brief smile, beautifully green-blue eyes alight with friendly warmth. "But your introduction is likely to be the most entertaining, if that is any consolation."

"This is Dr. Melinda Campbell from Rifle, Colorado, USA." Shadow gestured to the spindly wolven. "She is the research director of the station overseeing the ripple gate and will be accompanying us as the science asset. She has a PHD in theoretical physics from the Manhattan Institute of Physics & Engineering and served for a time in the technical support branch of SAFAG."

"I have had few opportunities to work with SAFN, however." Melinda added, her starved appearance bellied by a rich and slightly deep voice tinged with the slightly British sound of a polished academic speaker. "Thus, I am looking forward to my tenure in your service especially, if I may say, working with well-regarded officers such as Captain Wilson and Admiral Williams."

Shadow looked surprised and appreciative of the scientist's compliment and nodded to her before turning towards the other human in the room. While blonde-haired and blue-eyed like Jenkins with slightly pale skin, the other man was visibly burly. His heavy jowls and severe expression practically broadcasted his nationality before he stood up in response to Shadow's gesture towards him.

"This is Commodore Vladimir Yevgeniyevich Andropoli who will be commanding the carrier Lady Lex on our expedition." Shadow announced. "He hails from Vladivostok, Russia, and has been decorated twice for seamanship and personal bravery during his service in the coast guard branch of SAFN-S."

"It will be an honor working with the granddaughter of Aaron Williams and the daughter of Adolph Wilson on this expedition." Andropoli said with a deep and rather handsome Russian accent. "Naturally, it will also be a pleasure to work with my fellow captain and the scientific specialist as well. I have heard of your work, Doctor Campbell, and know that the Navy owes you a debt."

Dr. Campbell blushed softly at the compliment and smiled warmly at the commodore. "Spasiba, toravich commodore." She replied. "Your compliment is appreciated."

"It is merited, Doctor." He nodded to her and sat, leaving Colonel Jenkins to be introduced. He did exactly what Sera expected: he stood before Shadow could gesture to him and introduced himself.

"I am Colonel William C. Jenkins, hailing from Reykjavik, Iceland." He announced in a curiously mechanical way. "I have been part of the intelligence branch of SAFAG for the last five years, specializing in diplomatic and armament intelligence. I am also one of the few intelligence officers with qualifications for extraplanetary analysis and xenodiplomatic protocol theory." He then looked at Shadow with a smirk. "I might also add that I was the only one that could be transferred to this expedition on shorter than 8-month notice."

With a jolt, Sera suddenly realized while Shadow wasn't throwing Jenkins out of the nearest airlock: she had no way to replace his specialization. She gritted her teeth for a moment, noticing that similarly unhappy expressions had flitted over the faces of the other officers, especially Shadow.

"If you'd even made an attempt to be courteous, Colonel, I'd actually thank you for relieving me of the obligation to acknowledge your existence." Shadow snorted. "Now sit down and wipe that smirk off your face."

"Yes, Admiral." He nodded and sat, quashing the smirk but still giving Shadow a remarkably insolent look.

Shadow sighed and rolled her eyes before forcing a faint but genuine smile. "Very well." She said. "The fleet has been prepared. Departure is within 13 hours. I'd suggest you get yourselves acquainted with your fellow commanders and your assigned ships. Dismissed."

As the commanders stood and began filing out, Shadow walked over. "When you're done with your tour of the ship you'll be serving on, Sera, let's have a nice spot of tea and catch up on our years of separation." She suggested, shaking off the aggravation Jenkins caused her and letting her natural warmth show again. "It has been a lonely five years, my friend."