RSIA Primary Operations Command

  Blackwell Station, Morelus

  The Rhyus System, Karbay Nolan Sector

  Date: Zeran 32, Year 4731

  The Preyon’s departure was imminent. Still docked at the RSIA base on Morelus, it engaged its thrusters, lifting off the hangar floor as the doors behind it slowly crawled open.

  A sudden disruption in the main power grid struck as they prepared to back out.

  The consoles across the bridge blinked to black.

  For one long second, the Preyon was unresponsive, though the thrusters still fired, keeping it steady.

  Then, emergency power surged to life, restoring partial control. Moments later, main power stabilized, and the systems resumed.

  At the helm, Rayvo Oswin remained calm, maintaining control of the ship.

  Garen looked to Conus. "Colonel, I thought this was supposed to be sorted out."

  "It’s supposed to be, General," Conus replied.

  "Halt departure. Sit us back down, Oswin," Garen ordered.

  Rayvo Oswin settled the Preyon back down. Its landing gear touched with a muted thud as he cut the thrusters.

  Garen turned toward the communications station. "Major Kaius, inform the hangar authority we’ll be delayed. Notify Admiral Lavont of the situation—before he’s calling and wondering what's going on," Garen said.

  Behind them, the hangar doors, which had been open to the outside of Morelus—high up the mountainside—began to slowly reverse, sealing shut once more. A gust of wind swept through the bay before the doors sealed completely, locking out the weather.

  "Inspection complete. Systems within prototype parameters. No anomalies. Minor deviations possible. Manual intervention may be required," O-One's words came through the static grille, level and without variance, sitting motionless at his station, his scanning line narrowing to a thin slit of white light, oscillating as he processed.

  "That doesn’t tell me anything, O-One," Garen said, rubbing the side of his neck.

  "Clarification: if the power grid fails again, it will fail differently," O-One replied.

  "Recommendation: remain observant."

  Garen shot O-One a dry look but said nothing, turning instead to Terra without a word.

  She rose from her seat. "General Rivers, maybe O-One and I should head down to engineering. See if we can offer some assistance."

  "All right," Garen said dryly. "Be sure to remain observant."

  "Acknowledged, General Rivers," O-One said, processing the comment as positive reinforcement.

  Terra hid a small smile and fell into step beside him. Together, she and O-One left the bridge, heading toward engineering.

  Terra wasn’t an engineer, but O-One carried extensive knowledge—and the full specifications of the Preyon—within his internal database. With any luck, they could help Major Soren resolve the issue before departure.

  Garen Rivers, standing at the center of the bridge, called out, "Major Kaius, open a link to engineering."

  "General Rivers," came Major Soren’s voice, a little rattled.

  "Major Soren? Why are we still seeing power disruptions?" Garen asked.

  "On it, General. Just a minor issue that slipped through—won’t happen again," Major Veeda Soren replied, her voice tight, but she quickly reined it in, forcing a more neutral tone.

  "Major Soren," Garen replied. "I’d hardly call it minor."

  "I say minor because I know my team and I will track down the cause," Veeda replied.

  "Very well. I hope this is the last of these issues," Garen said, emphasizing, "They won’t be minor in the Prine System."

  "We’ll get this resolved, General Rivers," Veeda assured.

  "I’ll let you get to it, then," Garen said, ending the link.

  Conus began reviewing the diagnostic reports as they trickled in.

  "It doesn’t make sense to me either, General. All systems look right according to the specifications," said Conus.

  "I won’t be satisfied until I have an answer for the cause. Something’s being overlooked—maybe the specs are wrong, or this ship needed more time in the Figma Shipyards," Garen said.

  "Yes, sir. The crew will get the issues sorted," said Conus.

  "I like your confidence," said Garen.

  Garen paced the bridge in his new combat outfit—commissioned back at Eteren One. The black tactical jacket, reinforced black tactical pants, and a gray armor-fiber shirt formed a set, both layered beneath the jacket’s lightweight armor weave. At his right hip, the reassuring presence of his holstered blaster rested, while a specialized sheath stretched across his back—currently unfilled.

  He had turned a few heads when he first entered the bridge earlier in the day, revealing the outfit for the first time. Still, in a way, it aligned with the standard RSIA black uniforms the bridge crew wore.

  He had sworn never to put on an RDF uniform again—long before he knew it was the RSIA asking him to return.

  But the distinction between one Seven Worlds military organization and another mattered little.

  He was here. But he hadn’t returned.

  And he would not wear their uniform.

  The outfit was also equipped with a forearm-mounted Shield Projection System and a personal Adaptive Barrier Field—defensive technologies designed to buy crucial seconds in a firefight.

  Nearby, as Garen continued to pace, Conus caught sight of the empty sheath slung across his back.

  Does he have it? Conus wondered. The Scalar Falcata?

  He had assumed Garen left the blade behind. The sheath suggested otherwise—and raised another question: if Garen hadn’t planned to carry it, why bother having the sheath at all?

  Before he could dwell on it further, Rayvo Oswin’s voice cut across the bridge.

  "Colonel Taylen, would now be a good time to look over the route?"

  Conus blinked, pulling himself back into the moment. He walked to the helm, where Rayvo tilted the display toward him, presenting the plotted route.

  Conus leaned over the map display, his augmented eye absorbed the data at an accelerated pace, titling his head to the side. He ran a quick calculation, his augmentation making complex assessments in milliseconds.

  "That’s a good route, Major Oswin, but I’d rather we go around the other side of the Karadolex Nebula," Conus said, pointing at a section of the route. "Let’s access through the Tenkar Sector and then move into the Quistrol Sector," he added, motioning over the map. "Skimming near these star systems," he outlined.

  Rayvo shrugged. "It’s your call, Colonel. Mind if I ask why? I can see this route is faster, but there’s a lot of activity in those sectors. I thought I was being practical. I’m just curious. This path puts us close to some star systems that wouldn’t appreciate us just dropping in, and they’re no fans of the Seven Worlds. I thought it’d be best to avoid them."

  "The Stealth Field Generator will keep us from being detected," Conus replied.

  Rayvo nodded, respecting Conus’s decision. "Understood, Colonel. I’ll adjust the route accordingly."

  Garen observed the exchange. "Good call, Colonel," he said, though his mind was already calculating the myriad ways this mission could unravel. "If we can’t make it past those sectors, we don’t stand a chance in the Vorcon Empire."

  He glanced toward Conus, who had already returned to his station.

  What Amar had told him stuck in his mind, but he wasn’t about to treat Conus any differently. Conus still seemed like the same officer who had shown up at his cabin.

  Yet the thought remained—a recurring one he could not entirely bury. What did it all mean for Conus?

  Garen realized that perhaps he would never know. This mission was a one-time thing. After this, who knew? Maybe he wasn’t meant to know.

  Conus focused intently on his computer station, reviewing readouts from all the ship’s departments and engineering systems, trying to catch anything that might have been missed.

  Terra reentered the bridge, with O-One remaining down in Engineering. Garen turned as he noticed her.

  "Back already, General Anteia? Does that mean everything’s being resolved?" Garen asked.

  "It won’t be long. Major Soren and O-One are working out the issue as we speak," said Terra.

  "So a cause has been discovered?" Garen asked.

  Before Terra could answer, Jes spoke up. "General Rivers, incoming audio link from Engineering. Major Soren."

  "I’m sure the Major will explain," said Terra.

  "Go ahead, Soren," said Garen.

  "Looks like Klamarez is already showing his worth. He discovered the calibration of the power distribution was misrated. It seems like an oversight, but the power systems are working now that they’ve been rerouted and rated correctly. O-One and I are both satisfied this was the cause of the issues," explained Major Soren.

  "Well done, Major Soren. Inform me when it’s safe to depart. I want to get this mission underway as soon as possible. I also want a full report on this, presented to Colonel Taylen for review," Garen said.

  "Understood, General Rivers. We’ll get this ship sorted out," Major Soren replied.

  Major Merrick Rhoman, the Sensors Officer, sat still, his ears tuned to the conversation between General Rivers and Major Soren.

  If I'd known this ship was so unrefined, I would've kept my scheduled vacation, he thought grimly. When am I going to learn to say no? I could be home in my apartment right now...

  His mind jumped through a dozen improbable disaster scenarios—sensor ghosts, gravitational shifts, unseen hostiles... even space monsters.

  He exhaled slowly, forcing the thoughts down, and refocused on his screen.

  Garen walked over to Major Kaius, his presence getting her attention.

  "How are your jamming skills, Major?" Garen asked.

  "Good, General. I can suppress most enemy systems," Jes responded.

  From her station, Terra Anteia glanced over. "She’s one of the best jammers in the field," she said. "And our CSO isn’t just good at infiltration—she’s exceptional. Major Kaius and Major Cyra have experience working together."

  "That’s good to know," Garen said.

  Garen sat and leaned back slightly in the command chair, his eyes sweeping across the bridge. "Are we sure this thing is good to go? Confirm all systems are operational."

  The bridge crew checked and confirmed. Conus temporarily filled in at the Operations station while O-One remained away from the bridge.

  After all departments reported in and final checks were complete, Garen gave the order to depart. The Preyon lifted from the floor of the hangar bay inside the RSIA base on Morelus, thrusters engaged.

  The Preyon rose steadily as the hangar doors crawled open, then carefully backed out, maneuvering into a wide turn.

  Once it cleared the hangar mouth completely, the ship realigned itself, facing forward, away from the base.

  Continuing its ascent, the Preyon gained more distance on full maneuvering thrusters.

  Only then did the Velocity Engines engage—both drives firing with a controlled ignition, keeping thrust low and steady.

  The Preyon surged forward in a sudden burst, gaining speed before dipping toward the ocean below—the Sea of Variseth.

  High above, Blackwell Station hung suspended, built into the mountain, overlooking both the RSIA base and the waters far below.

  As the ship swooped down and skimmed close to the surface of the Sea of Variseth, salty mist lashed the hull, and Rayvo Oswin pushed its limits, maneuvering close to the towering waves that surged.

  As the Preyon skimmed the ocean’s surface, Garen noticed Conus about to speak. He quietly motioned for him not to, and they both continued watching as the ship drifted closer to the water than would generally be recommended.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Terra stood up from her station. "Enough, Oswin. Stay within safe parameters," she said, shooting a quick look at Garen from behind him.

  As she spoke, her thoughts drifted to the Council of Seven. Even a minor misstep could be used against her—politically and personally. Failure wouldn’t just jeopardize the mission; it would put the RSIA at risk, and her career along with it. If anything went wrong, she would carry the blame—and her future could disappear overnight.

  Rayvo nodded, carefully adjusting the controls. The Preyon climbed higher, turning back toward the RSIA Base. "Understood, General."

  As he looked back, he caught a smile from Garen.

  Conus realized then that Garen had instructed Major Oswin to attempt the maneuver—and the purpose seemed to be to see at what point General Anteia would speak up.

  Rayvo’s gaze drifted over to Jes Kaius, lingering a second too long with an unreadable half-smile.

  "Nothing like a close call to keep the blood pumping," Rayvo teased.

  Jes held his gaze, her features calm and unmoved. "Thrill’s good until it gets you killed," she replied. "Pay attention to piloting—or did you already forget the mountain range ahead of us?"

  Rayvo’s smile stretched wider. He kept his eyes on her a moment longer before finally turning away.

  It might be a long mission, but it won’t be that long, Rayvo, Jes thought.

  Garen glanced at Conus. "If things go awry at any point, we'll need this level of maneuverability," Garen remarked.

  The Preyon had an impressive arsenal for a ship its size, but he wasn’t in any hurry to test it against Vorcon craft they knew little about.

  The Seven Worlds of Rhyus had advanced their tech—but so had the Vorcon Empire. Walking into this mission assuming a technological advantage would be reckless. The Vorcons had been defeated once; they would be determined to gain any edge they could. If history meant anything, the Vorcon Empire had never lost two wars in a row.

  The Preyon rose sharply, skimming the mountain range, climbing upwards.

  "If we’re counting on maneuvers like that, General, it means the mission’s already slipping out of our hands," Terra said.

  Garen looked back at her. "Wouldn’t be the first time something went wrong, General Anteia. We can only plan the mission to a point."

  She smiled back, expecting that type of response.

  Garen leaned forward, a trace of amusement in his voice. "Rayvo, just remember—General Anteia prefers smooth flying."

  Conus, curious, chimed in. "I thought you were a Verta pilot during the war," he said, looking back at Terra.

  "I was," Terra replied, glancing at Garen with a half-serious, half-playful expression.

  "A story for another time," Garen said, before turning to Conus. "How is the SFG looking?"

  Conus, already anticipating the question, responded, "Major Soren is confident that there won’t be any more malfunctions in the SFG now that the power issues have been resolved. The Major went over the system with Ralyn Draycen, and everything seems to be in order, but they will continue to run several diagnostics and simulations."

  "Alright, let’s hope that was the last of it," said Garen.

  At the weapons station, Adlar Damon stretched back lazily.

  "Hypothetical for you, Eron," he said. "Ship crash-lands on some backwater rock. Thin atmosphere, barely any survivors... just you and me. Who do you think lasts longer?"

  Eron Kyne didn’t even blink. "Me. Obviously."

  "You?" Adlar scoffed. "You wouldn't last a day. Maybe a week if you were lucky. I know at least four types of algae you can survive on."

  Eron finally looked over, unimpressed. "Algae?"

  "You can survive for months if you know how to harvest biofilm and manage moisture levels," Adlar said, tapping his temple.

  "I would definitely let you eat it first," Eron said, without a hint of humor.

  "You would just sit there waiting for a rescue," Adlar shot back.

  From the command chair, Garen called over dryly, "Good to know the Preyon’s emergency plan consists of algae farming. Stay focused."

  "Yes, General," they both said.

  Adlar and Eron pulled out their REM Links, and they continued their back-and-forth through text communication.

  From her station, Jes Kaius called out. "General Rivers, Admiral Lavont is requesting a direct communication."

  "Send it through," Garen ordered.

  Jes transferred the call to Garen’s REM Link. He answered, and Admiral Amar Lavont’s face appeared on the display.

  "Everything in order, General?" Amar asked.

  "I hope so. No turning back now," Garen said.

  "Good to have you back, Garen," Amar said. "I needed you for this one. I know returning wasn’t easy for you."

  Garen’s expression softened slightly. "I'd be lying if I said it doesn’t feel good to be back on the bridge of a ship. I'll carry this out, Amar... Admiral Lavont."

  Amar nodded, a faint smile crossing his face. "I wish you well, General Rivers. Good luck with the mission."

  "Admiral," Garen said with a nod.

  They ended the call, and Garen’s voice carried across the bridge. "Oswin, move us to the calculated rift point."

  "Already on course. Increasing velocity," Oswin replied.

  With Garen’s command, the Preyon’s engines increased power. The vessel didn’t shoot upward abruptly but rose at a controlled pace, gaining distance from Morelus’ RSIA base.

  The Preyon ascended steadily. As they climbed, the moon’s mountain ranges and oceans receded into the distance.

  Rayvo, glancing at his readouts, called out, "Smooth as ever, General. Breaking free from Morelus’ gravity."

  The desolate beauty of Morelus faded into the rearview, the moon becoming less defined as the Preyon rose into the blackness of space.

  Merrick Rhoman couldn’t shake the feeling something had been overlooked.

  "I know we’ve double-checked the sensors, but... maybe we should run one more diagnostic. Just in case there’s something we missed."

  "Go ahead, Rhoman," said Garen.

  The thought of missing a critical detail unsettled Merrick. There’s always something out there you don’t account for, he thought.

  "Nearing calculated rift point," Oswin said.

  Garen, gave the next order. "Let’s get that rift open, Oswin."

  The Preyon’s engines, capable of reaching 94% of the speed of light while at sub-velocity, rumbled with power as the ship accelerated.

  Registered with the Rhyus System’s Interdimensional Field Inhibitor, the Preyon had to navigate to a designated area before safely opening a rift—an essential safeguard to prevent hostile forces from creating rifts too close to planets or secured RDF territory.

  "In position, General," Rayvo reported from the helm.

  He leaned back slightly, studying the coordinates displayed on his console, mirrored on the secondary galaxy map below.

  "All clear, General," Merrick confirmed, though he double-checked the data, just in case.

  Garen nodded, his eyes locked on the endless stretch of space ahead. "Engage the SFG. Set course VHS 100," he commanded.

  The Preyon’s advanced stealth technology activated, rendering the ship virtually undetectable to enemy or friendly sensors. Outside, the stars seemed to dim.

  "All systems operational," Conus confirmed after a final check.

  "Engage the rift drive," Garen ordered.

  The Preyon surged forward, its Velocity Engines propelling it as a dimensional portal bloomed ahead. A beam of white energy began tearing open space in front of them, jagged edges pulsing erratically. The IRD hummed with rising energy, a faint pressure building beneath the hull.

  Time seemed to slow as the rift widened, its swirling white streaks lighting up the dark void. For a split second, the ship vibrated under the strain before the rift fully formed. Then, the Preyon slipped into the corridor, the rift sealing behind them as the ship vanished into the tear.

  As the Preyon navigated the interdimensional rift, Rayvo Oswin took a moment to update his mission logs. Although the autopilot managed their path, Rayvo remained vigilant, his eyes scanning for any anomalies. Space was unpredictable, and the unexpected could strike at any time.

  Garen settled into the command chair and accessed the ship's specifications through the integrated computer system.

  He sought to understand the ship’s full potential and limitations, ensuring readiness for any challenges they might face, having reviewed the specs several times already.

  While the mission was designed around stealth and non-detection, the possibility of combat was still there.

  Senior Weapons Specialist Adlar Damon and Senior Tactical Officer Eron Kyne had spent the previous day testing the weapons systems. Garen reflected on their effectiveness. Damon and Kyne, both esteemed Verta-class fighter pilots with a history of collaboration, shared a bond akin to brotherhood.

  Garen thought they were a bit goofy, but some of his best officers had been the odd ones. Despite that, he felt confident that, should the time come, the two would be effective in managing the ship's weapons. Their careers were impressive, from what he could see, though much of it remained classified.

  O-One returned to the bridge and reassumed his position, attentively scanning his displays.

  On his way back, O-One had conducted a routine inspection of the server room.

  This essential hub, powering the ship’s vast array of computers and data storage, linked together each separate system into the ship’s ARC system—a powerful computing network that provided extra data processing and computational power. It demanded regular oversight to ensure peak performance.

  Though O-One could monitor system statuses remotely from his bridge station, he preferred to verify the server room’s operational efficiency in person, ensuring optimal cooling and functionality were maintained.

  This habit often annoyed the Cybersecurity Officer, Major Rena Cyra, who kept the ship safe from any infiltration attempts through its networked systems. Still, as the ship’s Operations Officer, it was O-One’s responsibility to monitor all systems—the server room and ARC system included.

  Garen glanced at O-One.

  "O-One," he said.

  The synthetic swiftly turned toward Garen, alert and ready. "Yes, General?"

  "I've been looking over the Preyon's specifications, pondering its full potential," Garen shared.

  "Standing by for input, General. Proceed," O-One responded, the cadence of his voice even and service-oriented.

  Garen continued, "I'm exploring various operational scenarios for the Preyon, considering the challenges we may encounter. Understand that some of the theories and suggestions might seem unlikely, but I'm more concerned with performance. I want to know exactly what I'm dealing with here."

  "Logical approach: maximize mission survivability. Request acknowledged."

  Turning to his terminal, Garen transmitted data to O-One's workstation.

  "Sending now," he said.

  "Processing initiated. Report underway," O-One’s processors stirred as he began analyzing the data, his artificial mind running countless simulations in seconds.

  "Scenario analysis: low feasibility. Variables pending review," he said, his tone neutral.

  He hesitated for the briefest moment, "Observation: human intuition—unquantifiable, unpredictable variable."

  "See any potential?" Garen inquired.

  "Affirmative General. Several strategies display merit. However, limitations are present and additional data is required for full optimization. I recommend compiling a comprehensive report for your review," O-One stated.

  "Good idea, O-One. I get a lot of good ideas—problem is, I forget most of them," Garen said.

  O-One turned toward Garen, the light across his sensor line pulsing once. "Observation: cognitive function declining. Recommendation: immediate medical evaluation. Secondary concern: suboptimal nutritional intake detected."

  Garen slowly turned to O-One before letting a smile show. "I’m not sure if you’re worried about me or insulting me."

  "Affirmative," O-One replied simply, returning to his analysis. "I'll proceed with the simulations based on the scenarios you've provided and compile a comprehensive report," he assured, navigating his console.

  O-One continued running further simulations, focused on completing the report.

  After some time, O-One turned to Garen, his slow movement catching Garen’s attention in the corner of his eye.

  "General Rivers. Initial evaluation: you were not the optimal choice for this mission. That assessment is now under revision. Prior analysis: incomplete. Current evaluation: amended. Updated likelihood of mission success: favorable."

  Garen smiled, amused. "I appreciate your honesty, O-One."

  Curiosity piqued, Conus leaned in. "I'm curious—who else was on the list for this mission?"

  "For security reasons, I’m not at liberty to discuss that information here," O-One explained, maintaining his focus on his tasks. "It was ultimately Admiral Lavont’s decision to bring General Rivers out of retirement for this crucial role."

  "And what about General Anteia?" Garen asked.

  "She and I shared the same reservations," O-One replied.

  Garen looked to Terra, noticing a hint of embarrassment on her face as she acknowledged what O-One was saying.

  "I suppose I was the last resort then," Garen joked, catching Terra’s eye.

  "Actually, I thought it unfair to pull you back," Terra added candidly.

  "That’s fair. I had intended to stay retired... until the Vorcons decided otherwise."

  He looked over at Conus.

  "Despite your attempts, Colonel, it was the Vorcons who proved more convincing." Garen let out a rough laugh, low and humorless. "Nothing like the threat of death to change a man's mind."

  O-One turned fully at the waist toward Garen. "Observation: mortality remains the primary compliance factor among biological organisms. Threat of termination improves compliance." His skeletal frame remained utterly motionless.

  Garen grunted. "You're not wrong."

  "You do not fear deactivation, O-One?" Conus asked, the faint light from his augmented eye catching a subtle fluctuation across O-One's sensor line.

  "Fear response: suppressed. Emotion subroutines: suspended per Bridge Officer protocols. Active program: Bridge Officer Operational Mode. Emotional variance: locked. Full operational focus: imperative. Presence: imperative," O-One replied, his voice flattened by the active protocol.

  Something about that last line caught Garen’s attention. Presence: imperative? He filed it away. There was no time to dwell on it now, still it scratched at the back of his mind.

  "Personal inquiry: Do you fear death, Colonel Taylen?" O-One asked, his voice mechanically steady.

  Conus hesitated, recalling the faint fragment of a memory—his presumed death. "Yes," he said simply.

  For a moment, silence settled over the bridge.

  Without changing his expression, O-One continued, "Observation: Chiex incident. Failure to respond: increased strategic vulnerability." The horizontal scanning line across his face widened slightly.

  "There has been no formal acknowledgment from the RDF, the Seven Worlds government, or the Vorcon Empire regarding the Chiex altercation," O-One stated. "Event classification: significant. Response level: none. Current analysis: complete lack of concern across all involved entities. Escalation probability: low. Vorcon military posture: unchanged. Grand Vorcon Imperial Force remains within territorial bounds. Operational forecast: if detection occurs during Operation Droppoint, probability of increased tension: high."

  Everyone nodded in agreement, the silence that followed more telling than any comment. The absence of any official reaction to Chiex was puzzling—and troubling. The encounter had been critical, yet the silence surrounding it spoke volumes.

  Only a brief mention made the news: a sighting of a Vorcon war galleon near Chiex.

  The loss of life was never acknowledged.

  The public had no idea lives had already been lost at the hands of the Vorcons—only that a ship had been seen. And since the sighting had occurred near the edge of a neighboring sector, it hardly felt like something worth urgent concern.

  And now here they were heading to Vorcon Space.

  Conus chimed in, "It seems they want to avoid a conflict at all costs, prevent the public from worrying."

  "It might. The current government will tolerate a lot before they respond fully—or act aggressively toward the Vorcons," Terra said.

  She remembered how difficult it had been to even get Operation Droppoint greenlit, recalling the endless hesitation she herself had once mirrored. She fought Amar over the mission, her stance mirroring the Council of Seven’s reluctance: a deep, ingrained resistance to stirring another conflict with the Vorcons.

  Back then, she hadn't trusted the intel either—had barely wanted to pass it along. The thought of launching an entire operation based on unverified information still unsettled her, even now.

  She had been hesitant, reluctant—but when orders came, she crossed the line. Not out of faith in the intel—that still hadn’t changed—but because she would follow orders. When it came to the Vorcons, she wanted to be careful. Spending the early part of her career engulfed in the war, she was ready to be free of it. Her concerns now lay elsewhere, with other threats rising against the Seven Worlds.

  "Politics are a minefield, Terra," Garen said as he paced around the bridge. Stopping by her station, he added directly, "Give me a straight fight any day."

  "It’s funny you say that while you’re commanding a stealth vessel into Vorcon territory," Terra replied with a small smile.

  Garen let out a short, grunt and then turned back to the displays.