In Times of Need [Closed][FT]

[Geanna]

''Ozymandias''

350LY GE of Crux ZOC, Alpha Quadrant
Betrican Light Frigate; "Silvitas"

---

“We’re not going to make it!” the voice yelled from the catacombs deep inside the bowels of the demon. Its sleek metallic body glimmered little light from the surrounding stars. Across the sides were the inscription of the vessel’s origins, Betrica.

“Hold on!”

The seemingly silent void of space was disturbed by the vibrant flashes of light that so easily blinded the observers of the vessel, even if temporarily. This vessel had hailed from the Betrican Federation, but the Federation was no more.

Its occupants had hailed from a once large star-state, that nestled so neatly in the Alpha Quadrant. Their home however, was no more. Behind this vessel was another, a much larger ship, and it was from here that the source of those lights had come.

Another salvo streaked across the empty void, burying their faces into the metallic shroud of the Betrican vessel’s armour. The ship shook violently with each hit, and the twisting sounds of metal reverberated throughout the long corridors.

“Initiate the jump!” the woman called out, the impact shook her from her footing as she fell to the floor. A man was hanging on to a ledge as the gravity was fluctuating on and off.

“I can’t reach it!” he yelled, trying desperately to keep his grip. Pieces of metal, rings, paper, and other small items were floating about inside. When the gravity generators activated, they’d all fall.
It was during this opportunity that the hanging man mustered his strength and pulled himself up high enough to hit the lever. The red handle cried out as it was pulled down by the man’s weight. The gravity turned off again as the sound of the vessel’s engines came to life.

There wasn’t enough power to run the jumper and the gravity at the same time. The reactors had been damaged by the onslaught. More explosions shook the vessel as it readied to jump. The lights flickered on and off, dimming down significantly as the space of the room darkened.

“Haha!” the man chuckled, the whirring stopped and for a moment it was as if time had slowed. The pursuing vessel unleashed another round of her menacing armament just as the Betrican vessel quickly left.

“I got it! I got it! We’re saved!” the man said. The ship arrived at its destination as the drives powered down. The gravity fluctuated again, and the man lost his grip. He tumbled from the lever, impaling himself on a section of damaged pipe.

The woman screamed as she too hit the floor, covering her mouth with her hands in her horror. They had been saved, through sacrifice - but to what end?

Crux Senthaal-Class Cruiser under the command of Captain Riatta Riff
350LY GE of Crux ZOC, Alpha Quadrant

***

“Commander,” the vessel’s AI had announced inside of the pursuing ship.

“Go ahead,” the Captain said, sinking into her chair with a grimace. Riatta wasn’t one to enjoy losing their prey, and she knew that Admiral Jul wouldn’t be too pleased either.

“Enemy Vessel has jumped,” the AI said.

Riatta rubbed her face, “I think we can damn well tell that you blithering idiot,” she sighed. “Any idea where to?” she followed.
“Negative, Scans suggest it was a random jump, the vessel was heavily damaged and under-powered,” the AI replied. Riatta shook her head.

“Do not report this just yet, we’re going to see if we can find them,” she said. The bridge of the small Senthaal cruiser was quiet as everyone at their stations remained glued to their screens. Riatta wasn’t one they’d want to disturb, especially when she was agitated.

As a result, the room fell eerily still. Riatta looked around at her subordinates, her mind was dodging around different solutions to this problem. The Betrican ship was damaged and losing power. They could’ve easily jumped and then be left to drift until they all starved.

What if it wasn’t a random jump however? How would Admiral Jul react upon discovering that this vessel was found later conducting a raid? She growled in frustration. “Dammit to Senthaal!” she shrieked, slamming her fist against the arms of her chair.

“Find that damn ship!” she barked.

Betrican Light Frigate, Silvitas
Perseid Federation Space, Alpha Quadrant

***

A sigh of relief was breathed by those aboard the Betrican vessel, for it wasn’t likely that their pursuers were going to follow them. However, this region of gas and dust seemed unfamiliar to these refugees.

Where they have arrived, the cosmic noise being emitted from the stars must have been deafening. From above, below and about them, the irregular and sporadic rhythms of quasars must have caught their scanners; as if the universe had suddenly become a busy marketplace.


Suddenly, it seemed that something was sending out noise in regularly spaced intervals, a pattern. This source appeared to be closing in on their ship, and fast. Was this perhaps the Artemene? There was no way they could’ve followed them here in this unknown region of space.

A message in Galactic Standard was received. “Attention unidentified vessel,” it hailed, “you have entered the territory of the Perseid Federation. Attempting to communicate with you, please respond.”

The woman, who had now recovered from the tragic accident that’d unfolded before her, not that things hadn’t been tragic from the start, looked towards another female near her.

“Perseid Federation?” she asked, her eyes giving a curious glance.

The other woman shrugged, “Not Betrican - though the message doesn’t sound threatening,” she replied.

“Neither did the Crux when we ran into them earlier, Mara,” the woman said.

Mara shrugged again, “We’re under power, Armay is dead - we’ve got wounded and sick,” she said.

“Either we die drifting out here and take a cold nap, or we do so under fire,” Mara added, stepping over to look at the panel.

The woman nodded as she interacted with it, “This is Olanna of the Betrican Light Frigate, Silvitas. We are lightly armed but non-hostile, we’re carrying refugees - we have sick on board,” she said with a sigh.

Mara and Olanna exchanged gazes for a moment before looking back to Armay, who had now been covered by a sheet. Their fates were now in another’s hands.

[Perseid Federation]

Astronautikon Patrol Frigate PSO Bar'iahmesu [FFP-612]
Thalassa Apophones, Alpha Quadrant — circa 1365 XS

---

Captain Anakletos Demertzis was frantically searching each and every one of the cupboards in his quarters. Apparently, his day wasn't turning out so well for him. He closed the cupboard doors with a slam and then proceeded to look in his fridge. The refrigerator that he had next to his dining table was empty of any alcoholic drink — all that was in there was a bag of sandwiches, some milk and only three fowl eggs left in the egg container. Perhaps if he looked in his chest full of fermented drinks there, he could find something to drink. Alas, the green wooden chest was devoid of any booze — only the cavities were in there. Slamming the coffer shut, he looked up at the ceiling and cursed at the gods saying, "Why must the booze be gone today?"

An audio announcement played on the speakers, which appeared to have the voice of a human female. The voice was requesting for Anakletos' presence at the CIC, to which he sighed, "It just has to be now, huh?" Perhaps it should be time for him to go there and do his duty — lamenting about his predicament may not help. He slouched as he placed his room key inside his pocket unit and exited his quarters.

As he entered the CIC, his subordinates noticed this, stopped whatever they were doing and immediately stood up and saluted him. Walking up to his seat he said to them, "At ease," and they went back to their respective assignments. The room was dimly lit, for the only light provided in here was the blue patterns that ran all over the walls and on the floor and the ceiling of the room. A giant holographic screen lined the wall in front of the men, showing the view outside being captured by external cameras. The console sensed the captain's presence, and immediately booted up in front of him. The first thing he saw were three screens: one containing the star map, one containing a three-dimensional diagram of the ship and its current condition, and one for everything else.

A holographic projection suddenly appeared on his console and manifested itself in the form of a miniature human female. She appeared to have patterns all over her body, different in form and arrangement compared to the patterns of a Perseid human. This was the representation of Junia, the ship's AI Servitor. A jovial disposition characterized her smile as she greeted, "It's so nice to see you, Captain Demertzis! Don't you just love this region of space where the cosmos seem to be singing to you? Personally I like it. Sure, you have no idea what quasars are saying but people listen to songs in languages they don't know, too — myself included. Now, we should be going past the—"

"Junia," the captain growled. "Were you the one who got rid of my booze?"

"What booze, sir? I do not understand your question." An awkward silence encompassed the two for a few seconds before Junia answered, "Ummm… Yeah. About that booze of yours…"

His head must have been figuratively emitting smoke from his ears. "Why would you do that?!" he interrogated. "You have no idea how long have I been deprived of the elixir of life. No idea!"

"I kind of do," she retorted. "You often don't follow your doctor's advice to stop drinking alcohol temporarily. Every time you come in here you bring a bottle of anisouzo with you. To help you out, I got a robot to sell off your alcoholic drinks when we were stopping at Hemera."

Anakletos' voice raised an octave higher. "Are you kidding?" he waved around his arms in frustration. "That wasn't helping out at all!" Junia giggled, "I find it funny when your voice suddenly becomes squeaky high when you are angry — kind of like a Terran chipmunk I should say." The captain groaned in exasperation, once again raising his fist and lifting his head at the ceiling. As he plopped down into his sea, all of a sudden a lieutenant picked up something as he operated his console. "Captain," he reported as his eyes were fixed on the holographic screen, "we have an unidentified vessel located to our two o'clock, around 140,000 klicks from our current position."

Anakletos suddenly regained his composure and centered his star map on the ship's projection. Junia just looked on in stupefaction at how quickly did he change gears. Usually women did that she thought, and she would know because she was programmed as a female unit of the human species. He inquired his crew, "Is it armed?"

"Looks like it," another liaison responded. "It doesn't seem to be of a design of any Perseid vessel, civilian or military. Plus, its armaments don't look like they are military-grade either. We suspect that the unidentified vessel in question may be a pirate vessel."

Indeed, pirate activity has increased in the Alpha Quadrant recently, coincidentally happening as soon as the Sivulon Trade Routes saw ships traveling along its corridors once more. "Guess it must be business as usual, huh?" he said to himself. Standing up he ordered, "Get ready for unidentified vessel protocol, I repeat, get ready for unidentified vessel protocol."

"Aye, sir." the room suddenly turned darker, as some of the lights turned off. The Bar'iahmesu began to accelerate gradually in order to close in on the unknown vessel. The star map on Anakletos' console was updating in real time as the map moved and moved towards the blue flashing blip. The schematic of the patrol frigate remained in place in the middle. Before he was to open up a communications channel with it, he had no idea what communications systems the ship used, or if they knew Universal. As the men were on stand-by, Anakletos nodded his head at the communications liaison. He hailed the other vessel saying in the Universal language, "Attention unidentified vessel, you have entered the territory of the Perseid Federation. Attempting to communicate with you, please respond."

It took a few seconds for the unidentified ship to respond — during which time the voices coming from the cosmic sea were rapidly and sporadically blaring their receivers. This was the famous Thalassa Apophones, the Sea of Voices in Perse, where the song of quasars can be heard by any passing vessel. It is as if Pythos may have given the spirits of the universe a musical chant in a language that mere mortals may not understand. The voices seemed to compete with each other from all sides, trying to get the attention of mortals traversing through the garment of Nephos that is called the universe. An audio response returned to his ears saying, "This is Olanna of the Betrican Light Frigate, Silvitas. We are lightly armed but non-hostile, we're carrying refugees — we have sick on board."

Turning his head at the Captain the liaison reported in a rational tone, "Sir, the vessel is carrying refugees, sir. We have no clue on what is their point of origin."

"I think the demonym Betrican may provide a clue for that," said another.

Some of the crew members were partly startled by the voice behind the response. To them, it felt like a more benevolent representation of Death had been speaking despondently to them — the "benevolent" part didn't seem to help calm them down. One of them even said, "I don't like the look of taking in these aliens that we have no idea about."

"Me neither," concurred another. "It's like their words may send my spine chilling; and I don't like that feeling." Others expressed more or less the same concerns.

"If I may interject ladies and gents," Junia shifted her usual cheery tone to a more serious one, "Besides the many sick that may be on board, there may be some of them who are injured. Personally I think we should go in and aid them with medical treatment as soon as possible."

"With all due respect, but we have no idea what their deal is," replied a lieutenant. "After all, the ship looked like similar pirate vessels that have been plaguing the Sivulon Routes recently."

"Lieutenant Tournas, that can wait. The well-being of these refugees comes first." The Captain nodded in agreement. "True. However we should proceed with caution." The semblance of uncertainty was still on his face.

"Then again," she placed her hands on her chin, "How will our dropships go in? Perhaps…" She turned and requested, "Captain, May I?"

Anakletos nodded at her request — maybe Junia has an idea up her sleeve. Immediately did her projection disappear from the Captain's console and reappear on the holographic visual feed. She ordered, "Zoom in on the unidentified vessel's side, please."

The men operating the camera feed zoomed in on the Silvitas, and the holographic screen at the front of the CIC updated in real time. The ship's size grew larger as it zoomed closer, and its appearance became more and more detailed — now they could see a semblance of some light ship arms as well as what appears to be hangar bays and some communications units. There even appeared to be some holes that were punctured into the vessel. The debris that was surrounding it seemed to be flaking off the Silvitas as it remained suspended in space. The Perseids' eyes began to search for a hangar bay that seemed to be in working condition, or at least some docking points. When the cameras have zoomed close enough, they managed to spot some docking points and hangar bays that were in working condition. "Looks like the refugee transport took a beating, Captain. The holes look like they have been caused by projectiles that rip through armor."

"Indeed. Now the burden of rescuing them is now bigger on our part." He had no choice — the unknown vessel was now an unknown, damaged vessel. However dangerous, it should be done — he may regret this when the Astronautikon find out. "I want rescue teams on standby and dropships scrambled," he ordered decisively. "Aye sir," came back the response. Anakletos then responded in Universal to the ship, "Betrican light frigate Silvatos, this is Captain Anakletos Demertzis of the PSO Bar'iahmesu. Please hold on, we'll be sending rescue teams to pick them up."

The Perseid ship came closer and closer so that it can get into range. The hangar bays of the Bar'iahmesu opened, and four lightly armed dropships surged out into the cosmic ocean. With their thrusters they carefully maneuvered themselves through the field of metal plates and other things that surrounded the damaged vessel. This feat certainly wasn't a walk in a park for the Perseids, as more metal pieces seemed to be flying at them (when they really weren't). Arriving on the ship's port side, two went up to the docking points at the upper half of the Betrican vessel, while the other two slowly entered inside an open hangar bay.

[Geanna]

''Endangered''

350LY GE of Crux ZOC, Alpha Quadrant
Crux Dominion Senthaal-Class Cruiser; "Orretis"

---

The Crux captain fidgeted in her seat, she had sunken into the chair's embrace and her soft, tentative violet eyes shifted about. They were viewing a series of holographic screens, their blue luminance was all that lit up the woman's pale face. Eighteen months they had been operating out here, in what the Crux called the deep field, a section of space along the fringes of their control zone. Eighteen months of chasing Betrican ships, hunting them down like cows to slaughter.

The Long War was still fresh on the Crux minds, and the Dominion had begun the Ascendancy Wars, a plan to annihilate what was left of Betrican allies across the Corefield. This was easier said than done however. Even though the fires of the Dominion's war was spreading across the centre of the Galaxy, it was still a story of sporadic battles by chance, and long deployments with little to no action. Finding enemy systems was like finding a needle in a stack of needles. The Galaxy was merely a cosmic ocean of billions of islands, and these islands were spread out across vast distances.

Even for the Crux work-ethic, they grew impatient and frustrated. Riatta was no different here, she retained a tightly pinched grimace on her face, her composure radiated this frustration without the need for a word. This was the first vessel they'd found in four deployments in the deep field, and she had lost it. Her tendril like hair was also very frizzled, Artemene emotions often affected their behaviour, and they twisted and bent in a sporadic fashion.

***

Perseid Federation Space, Alpha Quadrant
Betrican Refugee Light Frigate; "Silvitas"

---

Olanna and Mara exchanged glances, their skin turning a more vibrant shade of pink in their joy. "Finally! Did you hear that!?" Olanna squealed as they both jumped up and down, grabbing each other. They'd been on the run for a few years now, the Crux destroyed their homeworld of Betrica during the Day of Rain. Both of their families were gone, along with many others aboard the vessel with them.

They were homeless, forced to live on the verge of their extinction. Staring at that fate constantly as they tried to out manoeuvre the Dominion's patrols, desperately looking for a refuge. It would seem that the Gods had finally smiled on them however, perhaps this was their final blessing. After-all, they were going to be saved. "Mara, Mara," Olanna said, trying to calm down their excitement as her voice became serious once more.

"Yes?" Mara replied, settling down as her skin returned to the gentle colour of their typical bluish tint.

"We need to get everyone ready, the sick and injured especially - make sure the bays are open and cleared of any debris, alright?" Olanna said, letting go of her friend to fumble with the control panel that was a small island in the centre of the room. Mara nodded, quickly heading off, stepping over Almay's body and through the door. Much of the ship had lost power during the assault, at least three of the four reactors on board were near critical. Olanna, knowing this finally shut them down, there was no point in having the ship be a drifting bomb now.

The sounds of Mara's footsteps echoed into the deep corridors, along with the occasional, "Ow!" as she hit something. She used her arms to feel around the walls, stopping at doors to open them and call out for occupants.

There was a loud beating sound that caused Mara to jump as the intercom on board the ship cracked open. "Is this thing on? Dammit," Olanna's voice could be heard. "No, you need to press this here," another voice said.

"Attention passengers, this is Olanna speaking. We have successfully escaped the Dominion's cruiser and have found ourselves in a new part of space. Rescue teams are currently being dispatched from a star-state known as the Perseid. Now, I'm going to need everyone's help - I've sent Mara to collect people in the lower decks, we need to move the sick and wounded to Bay 7 and 2 for rescue first," the intercom said as it died out. The sounds of cheering echoed through-out the small ship, their voices resonating off the metal walls in a vibrant hum.

Mara continued to sweep the decks as the Betricans collected their things. Inside the working bays, those uninjured or not sick worked to move debris and other materials away to clear some space for their saviours. Some formed small teams and scoured the ships, along with Mara, to find rooms where the old and sick were. They carried them, they put them in sheets or what hoverchairs they could find, and brought them to the bays. As time went by, these large rooms were filled with hundreds of passengers, their eyes eagerly watching the large doors, their talking filling every corner with sound.

Olanna from the command centre watched and monitored the situation closely. "Bearimiz," Olanna said, the name of the Perseid ship was hard for her to pronounce, which she found a bit embarrassing. "Bearimiz, this is Silvitas, I've got your dropships on radar, opening bay doors now - none of our personnel are armed," she said, that was a lie - the ship did have a small armoury below decks, but none of those inside the bays were carrying any weapons.

Yellow lights both outside and inside began to flash and turn, illuminating the ships walls and sides with each pass as the large bay doors began to open. Olanna wasn't sure the one reactor could support the environment shields, but she turned them on anyway. The lights dimmed for a moment as a light haze of yellow around the open space of the doors faintly glimmered, this kept the occupants from dying inside the bays.

The vessel's engines had long shut down, the reactor wasn't able to power these. It drifted very slowly, as debris from the gaping holes along her hull sifted out into space. With these shredded pieces of metal and fragments were bodies, and parts of bodies. These were the unlucky ones that hadn't gotten out of the hull compartments in time. Dark streaks of warped, bent, and twisted metal spanned the entire length of the ship. The Crux plasma cannons had done a number along these surfaces, having turned them to near molten metal that created grotesque shadows with each pass of the lights around the ship.

[Perseid Federation]

Rescue Team Theta, en approach to Betrican Light Frigate Silvitas
Thalassa Apophones, Alpha Quadrant — circa 1365 XS

---

Cressida Delivoria was fiddling around with her data pad, playing a casual game of some sort, while the rest of the medics on board waited in anticipation for arrival — not in a good way. Not all of the Perseids here were medics and caretakers though, for there were seven tall escorts who were identified by the CATAPHRACTs they were wearing. In contrast, they were wearing some kind of light armor made out of metafabrics. The symbol of the god of medicine was emblazoned on their chest as an identifying mark that they were medical staff, while the symbol of the goddess of the home was emblazoned on the caretakers.

The dropship that they were in was quite roomy, able to carry 40 humans plus some cargo. Currently the cargo is placed towards the front, fastened into place by special locks to prevent them from sliding out the rear hatch — the rest of the dropship was mostly empty. It completely lacked windows, for they knew that would be where the enemy would shoot at and disable the pilot. In its place were cameras encased beneath several layers of shielding to protect them from unwanted EM radiation. Outside were the gas and dust clouds of the Sea of Voices, accompanied by the twisted metal and other debris chipping off the Betrican frigate. The debris field — though spreading outward into the surrounding space — was still thick enough to pose a hazard for the Perseid dropships.

"Rollcall, all rescue teams," came a voice from the transponder, "state your current status." The voice was most likely from Captain Demertzis on the Bar'iahmesu.

"Rescue team Zeta, approaching Betrican vessel."

"Rescue team Iota, approaching Betrican vessel."

"Rescue team Theta," reported one of the escorts, "approaching Betrican vessel."

"Rescue team Kappa, approaching Betrican vessel."

"All teams proceed to designated docking points on the ship. Theta and Kappa will head for hangar bay doors 2 and 7; Zeta and Iota will dock at points 3 and 8. Watch out for debris on the way."

"Approaching hangar bay doors in three minutes."

Some of the debris floating around in space weren't twisted metal. Some of the passengers could make out semblances of bodies, some of the even parts of bodies. Those Betricans may have went through hell just to escape whoever must be on their tail. Nevertheless, the Perseids managed to make it to hangar bay door 2. The doors slowly opened before them, and behind it revealed a large compartment crowded with hundreds of Betricans, waiting to be delivered from their damaged ship. The Perseids must've been intimidated from what they saw as the ship landed — the Betricans looked like they had octopus heads and crustacean legs, and their skin was in various shades of blue.

Her companion, Kostas Mavrostomos, seemed unsettled by the sight before him. Cressida had no idea whether it was their appearance that was bothering him, or the sheer number of sophonts waiting to be rescued. "They're… so… many." He seemed to be sweating a little, even though there was air conditioning inside. Cressida just patted him on the shoulder saying, "Don't worry. We'll get them out of there in no time."

"I think we may need more of these dropships if we are to rescue all of those refugees," pointed out a particular Samaras Gonce — who was an experienced field doctor and the leader of the rescue team. "Still, let's accommodate as many refugees as possible, and tend to their needs." Seeing that the Betricans are moving aside to clear some room for the dropship to land, he then told everyone to put their masks on. They also activated their decontamination fields to prevent being infected by whatever the Betricans have on their bodies — for alien microorganisms would not go down well with humans.

The dropship landed, and its rear hatch slowly opened to the cheering of hundreds of refugees. Iota's dropship landed elsewhere in the hangar bay, at another door. Some of the Perseids descended the craft, escorted by the infantrymen that were with them. Cressida was one of those who came out of the dropship to assist them in coming up. Samaras was carrying an audio amplifier in his right hand so he could speak to the throng of sophonts before him. He said in Universal, "Greetings to each and every one of you. We come in peace and in your time of need. We will be delivering you to our ship in order to bring you to the nearest star system for asylum. Our dropships will be going back and forth to transport you all to our ship. We will accommodate the sick and injured first to tend to them — however we will be picking up the rest of you soon."

After the instructions were given, the sick and injured were being brought to the dropship first. Cressida was among those saying, "Please be careful" as they went up to the vessel. The Perseids who were inside the dropship took over and brought them further inside, to make them feel comfortable. Some of the rescuers were intimidated by the refugees — who were of an alien race that they haven't seen before — but that didn't hinder much their ability to assist them. Once the ship had enough Betricans, the rear hatch closed and the craft took off and left for the Bar'iahmesu. Cressida and Kostas remained on board the Silvitas, also tending to the sick and injured. It may be a while before the dropship returns to transport more refugees, so they might as well make use of their equipment right here.

[Geanna]

''In Graves of Hope''

350LY GE of Crux ZOC, Alpha Quadrant
Crux Dominion Senthaal-Class Cruiser; "Orretis"

---

The dimly lit room, with its flashing screens, reflective surfaces, and the hushed atmosphere of shuffling subordinates - did little to calm the frayed nerves of the Captain. She had sunken into the embrace of her chair, her eyes were a heated red, shifting among those under her command. With a low growl, and the quiver of the ends of her lips, she stood abruptly - "How can none of you find a damn ship!?" she shouted.

The room was overtaken by silence, and the many eyes now locked to their superior. It really wasn't their fault, Riatta knew this, but it wasn't unlike her to take out her frustration on them. She rubbed her face, and then stormed out of the bridge. The eerie blanket of noiseless aura didn't subside in the room right away. Merely, the operators glanced at each other, exchanging gazes and expressions.

Riatta however, was fuming, the bristles of her tendril-like hair were now flared, twisting and turning in response to her state. She stopped at a door, and slid her hand in front of the small metallic console that rested off to the side. It opened and she stepped in. It was her own quarters, a small sized room, only large enough for a cot, a desk, and the wall-closet. For much of the Crux military, even officers didn't enjoy, much less gain anything luxurious.

Riatta sighed, and fell onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling just a few feet above. Across this, were photographs, notes and other pieces of paper she'd fashioned to the ceiling. Much of it was things like to-do lists, or propaganda - though one in particular drew her attention. It was a note, with the handwritten quote of 'Light in the dark' in their language.

The phrase itself was only a snippet of the full one, a popular slogan used during the Long War. "Hope is merely the light in the dark, where the flames of war have died, and the pillars of ash remain." It was a major rallying phrase, and its shortened form, "Light in the dark," was known by many in the Dominion. It was a reference to the near annihilation they had faced during the Betrican invasions of the Nytos Cluster.

She read this phrase, mumbling it with each glance before her eyes widened. She suddenly sat up, and rushed out of her quarters. The doors to the bridge came sliding open, as everyone returned to their stations. Riatta stepped up on the small circular platform, "Torpedoes!" she called out. This received several confused glances, of which caused Riatta to stop and stare back.

"Torpedoes, one of those we fired was bound to be a dud," she said, glancing around the room. This didn't help them. "For fuck's sake, we can manually control the torpedoes can we not? They have a damn beacon on them, I want to start sweeps in the direction that ship jumped! We need to activate it!" she shouted, clapping her hands. "C'mon! Move!" she shouted.

Everyone hurried to their seats, and a series of screens were brought up as the room was filled with talking once more. Meanwhile, the Captain had calmed down, and was gently rocking in her chair with a grin as she watched them. "We'll find them," she mumbled.

***

Perseid Federation Space, Alpha Quadrant
Betrican Refugee Light Frigate; "Silvitas"

---

The amount of joy inside a hangar was an interesting thing. Cheering had a tendency to bounce off of the walls, thanks to the acoustics, and the room sounded like a concert. Everyone's spirits had been lifted. As the Perseid began to arrive, many of the uninjured Betricans began to help load them inside ships. Those of the Perseid that remained as the vessels departed, tended to those still inside.

Olanna wanted to go down and greet them, but she didn't think it wise. Even though she too was excited, she wanted to keep an eye on everything. Mara instead, had appeared in one of the bays. Having brought up more from the lower decks with some help, she was amazed at the site herself. So much, that it was hard to contain the grin. The Perseid, their armour, and their ships looked completely foreign to her.

Up in the bridge, Olanna had slid into the chair. Her eyes were fixed on the covered body of Armay. Much of the white sheet around the wound had been stained by his blood. "We did it," she softly murmured. The room was quiet, the gravity on their side was functioning, though the occasional sounds of nuts or pieces of rubbish hitting the floor from the floating debris on the other side, was all that disturbed the silence.

They'd known each other for sometime, and even though her lips had curled up into a frown, she just stared. A screen lit up on the panel near her, with a small buzzer that startled her as she turned to look. "Incoming Signal," the message displayed. She furrowed her brows and tapped the surface, pulling up the ship's diagram. It was detecting a signal near the aft of the ship. "Shit..." she said.

[Perseid Federation]

PSO Bar'iahmesu [FFP-612]
Thalassa Apophones, Alpha Quadrant — circa 1365 XS

---

Here come the first group of refugees that the dropships were bringing over to the Perseid frigate. The hangar bays that were on the starboard side of the ship slowly opened to accommodate them in, while the dropships slowed down using short bursts of their thrusters. Passing through a virtually invisible but permeable screen, the dropships slowly hovered above the vacant spaces in the hangar bay and landed gently. As the rear hatches of the small craft slowly opened, the crew of the ship prepared to handle the situation from here on. Betrican refugees were allowed to disembark, and they did so in a nearly calm and orderly fashion — thanks in part to the rescue teams. Many of the sick and injured — especially those in critical condition — were rushed immediately to the medical bays, while others were given medical check-ups.

Once all the refugees were accounted for, the dropships slowly took off to head back to the damaged Betrican ship and pick up more refugees. Trips between the two ships took at least one hour, give or take. Every time the Perseid dropships returned to the mother ship, it brought with it more Betrican refugees every time. The men and women who were working in the hangar bays seemed overwhelmed by the sheer number of these aliens seeking asylum from some threat that was tailing them to here. They were coming from all over the place to see the aliens disembark the dropships and await assistance. Many of them looked quite disheveled, but they were now safe.

The medics in the sick bays were just as overwhelmed as well by the refugees. The blue-skinned xenomorphic sophonts quickly occupied many of the beds available. It took a while for them to fully address the medical needs of all of the sick and injured. Some of the sick were being taken care of by Perseids in protective suits (so that they wouldn't be infected by foreign microorganisms) — those that were found to have very infectious diseases were brought to isolation cocoons. A few of the injured were being operated on by surgeons — to remove any object that may have pierced the body — and yet there were many just like them, with some twisted metal or glass driven into them. This was becoming a crisis, but it was still confined to the ship.

As Anakletos was monitoring the video feeds that were linked to the hangar bays and the medical bays, he realized that perhaps he had taken on too many refugees. After all, the carrying capacity of the Bar'iahmesu can only carry so many. If the medical bays cannot keep up with the Betircans, some of them might die. Besides that, there were still hundreds of refugees still on that wreck of a ship in the distance, waiting for the Perseids to rescue them. "Junia," he sat back down on his chair, "check for any Astronautikon patrol vessels within proximity."

"On it, Captain." The star map suddenly began to zoom out, stopping at a radius of 5 light years. The Perseid frigate didn't have a scanner range this large, and only relied on live data from the Metaverse — which isn't the most accurate of data, as it can be faulty by a fraction of a light year. "Sir, the nearest Astronautikon warships is around 2.7 light years from where we are right now." It was the PSO Chilion, another patrol frigate roaming around these parts of the Sea of Voices. "Shall I contact it?" Junia asked.

Before the AI could answer, a console operator reported, "Sir, a torpedo projectile has been detected within the proximity of the Betrican ship!" Turning back to his star map, he found some kind of unknown blip, indicating an object of a particular mass and density that would possibly equate with a torpedo. "Where is it located?" he responded back as he further zoomed in his star map — the Chilion can wait later.

"At the aft of the Silvitas, sir. It 'looks like it's a dud."

What if it wasn't a dud, he hypothesized? Maybe it was a dud because it was faulty, or that it was on purpose. Whatever the case, the situation was bad. He should be getting those Betricans out of there now. "Patch me a line to the Silvitas immediately. I think they are aware of the torpedo as well." Turning to Junia he said, "Contact the Chilion, we're going to need another ship to accommodate the remaining Betrican refugees."

"Yes sir." While Junia patched a line to the other Perseid warship, Anakletos opened a line to the Silvitas once more to inform them of recent developments. "Silvitas, this is the Bar'iahmesu," he informed in Universal, "we have detected a torpedo near the aft of your ship. We think it's a dud, but it may set off at any moment. We are currently over capacity so we cannot be able to host all of your passengers. We are contacting another ship to arrive here and accommodate the rest of you, so please be patient." Junia on the other hand was having a hard time getting the Chilion. "Hello, this is AI Servitor Junia of the PSO Bar'iahmesu, attempting to communicate with you. Please break Metacom silence."

[Geanna]

''Running out of Time''

Perseid Federation Space, Alpha Quadrant
Betrican Light Frigate; "Silvitas"

---

Olanna quickly focused on the section of the ship where the signal was. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." she panicked. The transmission had come in now from the Bar'iahmesu. She paced back and forth, pulling at her hair as she tried to think. "Barmeshu, I've got the same signal you've found," she said, quickly trying to get to the intercomms, "Mara, please report to the bridge," she said.

The torpedo was definitely a dud, most likely lodged in one of the rear compartments, though she was now worried. She was afraid, afraid to tell the Perseid that they may have a problem - would they abandon them? What if the Crux had found them? She slid to the floor with her back against the console. Mara came in through the door, and had a confused look on her face.

"Olanna? What's wrong?" she asked, walking over to her friend.

"We've got a problem," Olanna said, "Look at the console." Mara did, and she eyed the flashing point near the rear of the ship.

"I'm afraid -- I don't understand, Olanna?" she asked. Olanna sat up, and then stood as she zoomed in on the ship's diagram.

"It's an unexploded torpedo, and it's broadcasting something," she said. Mara's face twisted up at the news. She too was now worried.

"Then we have to do something!" she said, grabbing Olanna's arm, who then pulled away. "Olanna?" she stopped to look at her friend. Olanna didn't move, instead she merely stared at the floor. They'd come so far, and now, it was as if the Gods had dangled a carrot in front of them -- only to keep it far from reach. Deep within the bowels of the battered frigate, was this torpedo.

It had survived, and was lodged in a wall to a corridor, dangling with the wires and pipes. A small light along the head flashed, it was the only light in this area of the ship, and it covered the corridor with flashes of red. Debris floated along the empty spaces around it, bodies bounced along the walls and ceiling. The light finally stopped flashing, staying on, as there was a new and sudden bright flashing just ahead of the torpedo. A loud pitched ring reverberated off the walls, and then the light disappeared.

Through-out the ship, the alarms sounded off as the emergency lights came on. This startled both Olanna and Mara. "What is it?" Mara looked at the console. Across the top of the screen was the flashing words for Portal. Olanna was now next to her friend, and they exchanged gazes, then both looked at the screen. It lasted only a few seconds, and then the message disappeared, and the signal near the rear of the ship was gone.

"No, no, no, no," Olanna said frantically, "You didn't..." she cursed, trying to desperately reset the console. The screen went black and came back on, and with each new scan the blip was no longer there. "Fuck!"

"Olanna!" Mara yelled, "What's going on?"

"We're going to have company," she said, pulling up the transmission to the Bar'iahmesu.

"Attention Barmeshu, that warhead just broadcasted," she said, her voice was shaking -- they had every right to leave them there for the Crux now.

''Reaper''

350LY GE of Crux ZOC, Alpha Quadrant
Crux Senthaal-Class Cruiser; "Orretis"

---

The Crux vessel had been drifting for sometime. They had fired only a few burst of signals out at varying ranges, hoping to find that Betrican ship. Riatta was still rocking in her chair, much more patient than she usually was. "Captain!" one of the subordinates yelled.

"What is it?" she asked, sitting up in her chair eagerly awaiting good news. The torpedo had indeed broadcasted its signal, though when Riatta learnt of where, they were all taken by surprise. It wasn't where they had been searching at all. "Charge up the RER engine!" she shouted, "I want the shields on stand-by, and gimme the damn engineers!" A screen with the information over their FTL Drive came up, and its charge.

Riatta was now very excited, to the point that it almost wasn't containable. "Found you" she grinned, staring at the charge rate, though it would take some time.

[Perseid Federation]

Astronautikon Patrol Frigate PSO Chilion [FFP-639]
Thalassa Apophones, Alpha Quadrant — circa 1365 XS

---

Apollos Melas' eyelids were becoming heavy as he continued to monitor his console. He wasn't getting enough sleep lately — partly because he was working overtime and partly because the coffee seemed to be a dud. Not only was his eyelids beginning to weigh on him, but so did his head. The CIC was dim enough for him to successfully doze off, and the clock ticked in a regular rhythm. His face just simply collapsed onto the console and he began to sleep. Light snores came out of his mouth, and the holographic display just passed partway through his face. On the screen, a line of phis was already filling it up.

Captain Hagias seemed to have caught him sleeping on the job, again. This was already the third time this week. Since he had a glass of water in his hand, he splashed it on Apollos. The console was waterproof anyway, so it should be fine. "Ugh!" Apollos reacted as his head and back felt some kind of liquid. "Sleeping again?" Hagias growled.

Apollos was stammering as he straightened himself up. "No-no-no-no, sir." His screen was already filled with phis from top to bottom. Oh gods.

Hagias neared his face and warned, "Doze off again and I'll throw you off this ship, Melas."

Apollos muttered, "I know you will, sir." That's when the Captain went off in his direction while Apollos resumed his work. The lines on the screen were cleared instantly with just a few taps on his console. He reached for the coffee mug on the console and drank quite a large sip. He should be staying awake now for a few hours. Fate must be testing him, as by each passing minute his eyelids slowly became heavier and heavier. However, a sudden series of beeps on his console may have forced him to stay up again. His eyes saw a flashing "TRANSMISSION RECEIVED" on the screen, and opened his end up. "Hello," came a voice, "this is AI Servitor Junia of the PSO Bar'iahmesu, attempting to communicate with you. Please break Metacom silence."

Straightening himself up and clearing his throat, he turned his head at the Captain and reported, "Sir, the Bar'iahmesu is attempting to communicate with us." Hagias swiveled his seat around and faced the front screen. "Well," he straightened himself, "respond."

Apollos turned back to his console and responded, "Bar'iahmesu, this is the PSO Chilion. What's your status?"

"Currently 2.7 light years chryseis from your position. Our ship has encountered a refugee ship and accommodated some of the refugees, who call themselves Betricans. We need you to come and accommodate the remainder of the refugees, ASAP."

Refugees? In the Sea of Voices? That seemed preposterous, too good to be true for Hagias. Apollos replied, "How many were accommodated in the Bar'iahmesu?"

"Around 700 of them, our ship is over capacity at the moment."

"Anything else?"

A short pause preceded. "There seems to be a torpedo at the aft of their ship. It's probably a dud, but it may explode at any moment. We need to hurry."

"From where?"

"We don't know." After a pause the voice added, "A light flashed inside the refugee ship from the torpedo; they say that the warhead may be broadcasting a signal."

Signal? That was bad news for Hagias. Maybe that refugee ship was bait for a possibly hostile vessel — a scout ship that may be gathering information on the Omospondia, probably in preparation for a full-scale invasion. That, or the refugee ship was the scout ship itself. Those predictions may be quite paranoid for most sophonts, but it would seem the most likely at the moment. After all, he has no idea what Betricans look like, or what their intents were. Oh gods, the captain rubbed his forehead, why must circumstance test us right now? "Charge up the phase drive," he ordered his crew.

"Aye, sir. Listing towards the chryseis." Slowly did the superluminal phase drive charge up, and the meter rise. "Currently at 20% charge. 30%. 40%. 50%" Outside of the vessel, a spiral of light began to form and swirl around the ship's bow — this was the ship's superluminal drive at work. The spiral slowly began to grow and grow, and the light from the phase drive was increasing in intensity. Once the drive was at 100%, that is when the ship began to activate it. It looked like the ship was being sucked in at the speed of light into the spiral that it just created. What was left of where it was was nothing — just the sporadic sounds of pulsing stars that characterized the Sea.

PSO Bar'iahmesu [FFP-612]
Thalassa Apophones, Alpha Quadrant — circa 1365 XS

---

"Barmeshu, I've got the same signal you've found," came back the Silvitas. This wasn't good, not good at all for the Perseids. After all, if it was broadcasting a signal, whoever was pursuing them may suddenly phase over and show up in Perseid territorial jurisdiction. This crisis would most likely escalate by many levels if a foreign ship suddenly arrived in the Sea of Voices without any forewarning. Now they really have to hurry. "Junia," he inquired once again, "have you patched the Chilion yet?"

"Negative Captain," she replied. "This may take a while before—" "Bar'iahmesu, this is the PSO Chilion. What's your status?"

Finally! It was about time that they responded, even though they were untimely. While Junia handled the Chilion, Anakletos oversaw everything that everyone else in the CIC was doing. Fortunately the CIC only had seven sophonts inside — as everything else was handled by Junia — so it was relatively easy to go through all of them. The medical bays were already over-capacity, along with some of the quarters. Some of these three-bed rooms were occupied by nine or ten Betricans, who seemed to have made enough space for each one of them, at least according to reports given by the crew.

However, the Silvitas may have had additional bad news for the Perseids. "Attention Barmeshu," came a shaky voice from the Betrican end of the line, "that warhead just broadcasted." Damn it, Anakletos bit his lips. The refugees' pursuers may be already picking up that torpedo's signal, and is heading for it. Perhaps they have some time left before things are going to escalate. "Silvitas, don't panic. Considering the vastness of our galaxy, it may take a while before another ship arrives here, even at superluminal travel; so we may have some time to pick up all of the refugees onboard your ship. Just hold on."

After several minutes of handling the situation alone, a bright light appeared in the midst of the darkness of space. From that bright flash of light came the Chilion, a ship of the same class as the Bar'iahmesu. A few ripples could be seen going through space as the Chilion reverted back to subluminal travel. "Salutations, Bar'iahmesu. This is the PSO Chilion, ready to assist you."

"Glad you could join us," Junia replied to the Chilion's greeting. "We still have refugees onboard that ship in the distance, so please do accommodate them before our time runs out." That's when the Chilion began to deploy its own dropships to pick up more refugees. Tiny sparks of light — which were the reflections bouncing off the dropships' exterior — indicated where they were. Now the dropships would arrive at the Betrican ship roughly every 20 to 30 minutes.

[Geanna]

''Unintended Circumstance''
Thalassa Apophones, Alpha Quadrant
Crux Dominion Senthaal-Class Cruiser; "Orretis"

---

A grin soon formed across the captains face, wide and thing, with the edges of her fangs poking through. "Captain Riatta! RER has fully charged!" an officer reported. Riatta laughed, standing up as she felt the sudden onset of energy. Her hands gripped around the rails, the wrenching of leather as she tightened her fingers. She stared intently at the screen, as the ship's computer announced that it was indeed, ready - she chuckled once more.

"40% to front shields! Put the guns on stand-by! Engage RER!," she called out. Before she had even finished, everyone in the bridge quickly rushed about the room in a frenzy. Holoscreens appeared across the walls, cameras and feeds of the deck bays. A loud hum began to resonate through-out the vessel, as it gently rolled in the chill of space, a blue sheen began to form across the bow of her body.

The engines along the rear and periphery areas of the ship started to glow. A blue-white incandescence illuminated the sleek white hull of the Crux vessel, its jagged equipment and panel borders casting elongated, monstrous shadows over the hull. In a flash, quite literally, the vessel had seemingly evaporated from space. The reactor within the ship was live, the portal feeding it energy glowed, casting bright rays of light through the crystal structure in a brilliant display of dancing shapes. All within the room had vacated.

Within the Perseid Expanse, the Crux vessel had suddenly re-materialised. Her body turning as the bays opened, and the platforms with their weapon systems extended. "Activate the transient shields! Roll us 15 degrees!" Riatta commanded. The vessel had appeared still some distance away, past the Betrican location, well out of their local vicinity - though it now steamed towards them.

"Captain! Targets sighted - Betrican vessel identified and an unknown!" The game had begun.

[Perseid Federation]

PSO Bariahmesu [FFP-612]
Thalassa Apophones, Alpha Quadrant — circa 1365 XS

---

Out here, the Sea of Voices was hardly a paradise for any ship that happened to be stranded out here — far from any nearby star systems or even colonial outposts. That was how vast the distances involved in outer space were, and every sophont knew that. They often said that the only things that you would find out here are space rocks, scrap metal from the wreckage of ships, and occasionally a plethora of disfigured and unidentifiable corpses floating throughout the cosmos. Somehow the Silvitas was the unfortunate victim of being lodged in the cold and heartless universal void that filled the gaps between stars and planets. The quasars and pulsars constantly bombarded scanners with blips of various radio frequencies repeating in a rapid and regular fashion. Luck may be evident to be on the Betricans' side when the Perseids stumbled upon them.

Junia was getting worried. Observing that perhaps there were too many Betricans on board the Silvitas, she reported her findings to the Captain. "Sir, if my calculations are correct, both the Chilion and the Bar'iahmesu will be three or four times over capacity of we accommodate all of the refugees."

"Are there any other military vessels within five light years from our current position?" Anakletos asked. Junia shook her head in denial. "Unfortunately not. We may have to get to the nearest outpost if we want to unload our refugees. From there they may go to Avis."

The Captain wasn't in agreement. The nearest outpost from here was around 4 light years away; and even if they make it there, it wouldn't have enough provisions for all of them. Should he have his ship go there? Perhaps if the phase drive was used they could get there within less than an hour; but the unloading time would take hours before they could return — consuming valuable minutes and seconds in the process. "No, we have to save as many Betricans as possible. There's no telling how many minutes or seconds we have before the Silvitas depressurizes completely."

However, something else may be more pressing to the Perseids than that. "Captain!" reported an operator. "Our scanners have detected a superluminal drive signature within 100 XAUs from our position. Ummm-uh, a vessel is materializing. Unidentified vessel closing fast on our current position." Anakletos opened his 3D star map and noticed a circle of light coming from the Chryseic direction. It was distinguishable from all the other flashing blips on the screen — if there were any — that indicated the positions of quasars and pulsars. This blip seemed to be moving towards their location at top speed. Oh gods. Was that them — the pursuers that were searching the cosmos for them? "Estimated length?" Anakletos began gathering information from his able-bodied operators.

A Firasai operator in the room reported, "Around 700 meters, Captain."

"Is it armed?"

"Affirmative. Weapons systems and countermeasures appear to be military-grade." The screen on front enhanced the ship's quality so they could get more detail.

"What's it's ETA?"

"Within the next fifteen minutes, Captain."

"Sir," another one reported, zooming the front screen on the unknown vessel. "We have its visual sir." The Captain left his seat and strode towards the front of the ship — particularly at the section of the screen that the vessel occupied. He stood there as the form of the vessel started to grow bigger and bigger. It was indeed heading in their direction. Time was beginning to run out. "Junia!" he called out, "is the Silvitas still connected to us?"

"Yes Captain, informing them of recent developments."

"Good."

The AI Servitor turned to the comms screen and said, "Silvitas, this is the Bar'iahmesu. We have detected an unidentified vessel within 100 Xenian Astronomical Units from our location."

"Captain?" an operator interjected, "shall I contact the unknown vessel now?"

He strode back to the middle of the CIC and stood there looking at the screen. "Do it." The Captain thought to himself that if he didn't get any alcohol for all of this, he would probably go insane.

It would take a while for the operator to successfully tap into whatever communications systems the unknown vessel had — because of the inconvenient fact that spacefaring civilizations have different communication standards — but Junia was helping him convert that to something that Perseid technology can manage. Once a communications channel was made with the unknown ship, the operator hailed in a more serious Universal, "Attention unidentified armed vessel, absolute galactic bearing 61.99°…," followed by a series of other information such as galactic coordinates, and other things that may not be of importance, "…this is the Astronautikon. You have entered the territorial space of the Perseid Federation. What is your intention?"

[Geanna]

''Quagmire''

Perseid Federation Space, Alpha Quadrant
Betrican Light Frigate; "Silvitas"

---

The two Betrican women stared at the screens. "Barmeshu! It's a Crux vessel! Hostile! I repeat hostile!" Olanna yelled frantically over the transmission. She couldn't believe they had found them so quickly, and now, they were completely hopeless. Panicked was putting it lightly, and as the Crux corvette neared closer, the remaining Betrican systems detected the ship. Suddenly, the lights through-out the crippled vessel flickered and then shut off, the corridors were now engulfed in the blackened shadows and the bay had become a void, much to the surprise and anguish of the refugees inside.

Mara and Olanna frantically searched the bridge, it was then that a voice began to speak, disembodied and horribly broken-up by static, it reverberated off of the walls, vibrating the loose panels into a frenzy. "Engaging Silvitas Intelligence Module" the voice announced, for a moment there was nothing as the remaining lights inside dimmed or completely when out - then a blue luminance from the control panel. The two Betricans watched it as it began to pulse, brighter and brighter until the voice spoke again. "Intelligence Module Engaged," it said, the voice waning near the end of the sentence producing a terrifyingly ghostly quality.

The light then dimmed, nearly going out as a blue sheen began to form around the ceiling above them. "Olanna -- what, what is that?" Mara asked stumbling backwards against the wall as they both stared toward the glowing static above them. "I don't know," Olanna replied, feeling for the wall as she tried to navigate around the room towards Mara. As the glow became more intense, it formed a sort of plasma-like blob, the exact shape of the room and then shot down suddenly. They both screamed and cowered to the floor as it passed through them, and then back up again before dissipating.

Peaking through her arms, Olanna could see the room had gone dark again, and now there was a new voice. This one was as well, disrupted by static, most likely from what little power there was left in the ship. "Olanna Yatuin and Mara Ikhasar identified," the voice said, "Performing system diagnostics," it then added as the two eyed each other.

"It's the Silvitas' AI," Olanna said. For a moment, the room had fallen silent as they stood-up, the light on the control panel was pulsing again, and then the voice had returned. "System Diagnostics Complete, Commander Yatuin, Sections AA3 and 5, B3 and 5 and D2 are critically damaged. Reactor 1 and 4 are un-operational, reserve power depleted to 45%, engine sections Kh, D, and F critical, Artificial Gravity Modules in sections AA3 and 5, B3 and 5, and D2 are disengaged, Yatuin has been identified as the seniority aboard the Silvitas and has full command, renegotiating power usage towards operational systems," the voice announced.

All of this had distracted the two from the approaching Crux vessel, that was, until the AI module had re-engaged many of the critical systems. "Crux vessel detected, Warning, Crux vessel detected," the voice announced as a series of whistles and whirring sirens went off in the bridge. Emergency lights flashed on through-out the ship, including the large bays where the refugees were. They were followed just as quickly by the sound of the alarm systems, and the AI now transmitting directly over the vessel's intercom system. "Crux vessel detected, weapon systems on-line, activating peripheral shielding, shield generator malfunction, activating weapon groups 1,3 and 4, shield generator malfunction..."

Within the bays, the crowds began to scream and panic. Grabbing what they could now, their skin changing from the bluish colour to near-white as they attempted to rush the Perseid rescue teams in order to escape the crippled ship. The cameras were activated inside of the bridge, and Olanna and Mara eyed the panic now ensue. The blaring sirens put all of them on edge, and Mara was beginning to panic herself. "What are we going to do?! Olanna!" she yelled, Olanna grabbed her, ''Calm down, Mara, please," she said, "We need to disengage the AI," she said.

Mara drew in a very shaky breath, closing her eyes for a moment before replying, "Ok." Olanna nodded and turned to the control panel, pulling up the holo-screens again. "The shield generators are malfunctioning, but the weapon systems are working," she said. "I think we just need to redirect power to the generators," she pulled up the system functions, and attempted to turn off some of the non-essentials. Immediately the AI responded, "Unauthorized," causing Olanna to growl. She tried it again, repeatedly, each time, "Unauthorized."

"What do you mean I'm unauthorized!? I thought you said I was the seniority here?" she yelled. "Commander Yatuin, your clearance level is not appropriate for such action at this time," the AI replied. "Engaging torpedoes," the AI stated. A screen with the diagram of the ship appeared, with four modules along the side lighting up to signal that the torpedo blocks had been engaged. "No!" Olanna shouted, "Unauthorized"

She growled in frustration, beating her hand against the control panel. "We're going to have to do this manually," she remarked, turning to Mara. "What do you mean?" - "I'm going to need you to head below deck and find the main network panel, it should be on the third deck, and when I say, you're going to shut off the system. It'll disengage the AI," she said. "But Olanna, I don't understand, I don't know what that even looks like!," - "I'll guide you through it," Olanna said, pushing Mara out of the room as she shouted for her to hurry.

Mara quickly sped off down the corridor. The first block on the screen turned green, "Engaging hostile," the ship announced. Olanna wiped her face as sweat began to pull across her head, she opened up the comms panel and spoke over the transmission to the Barmeshu. Outside, the crippled vessel had somewhat come to life, across the fringes of its darkened and warped hull, the emergency lights faintly glowed. A large door opened, several meters wide, exposing a block of tubes as they extended outwards. There was a moment of hesitation, and then two torpedoes were fired from the vessel. The turrets along the top and bottom of the ship had gone active, and trained towards the approaching Crux vessel, waiting for it to get within range.

"Barmeshu, this is Olanna of the Silvitas, the approaching ship has activated our AI - I don't have any control over it at the moment," she said, staring at the screens as the two torpedoes left the ship. She felt hopeless now, this had gone from something good, to a nightmare within minutes.

''Engagement''
Thalassa Apophones, Alpha Quadrant
Crux Dominion Senthaal-Class Cruiser; "Orretis"

---

Inside the Crux vessel, Riatta had inserted the small device she carried on her wrist, into the back of her neck. She was now directly uplinked to the ship and stood from the seat, moving towards the centre of her station. The ship had rolled to the needed angle, and the flashing red-lights within the vessel gave the Crux the warning, the game had officially begun.

"Captain, two torpedoes spotted at 45 degrees," the radar operative alerted. Riatta grinned, nodding as she looked towards the navigator, "Give me control," she said. The navigator complied, sliding back from their panel as the Captain moved her hand in an odd fashion. The vessel rolled more, and as she turned her body, moving her hands about as if performing a dance to music only she could hear, the ship responded.

The Crux vessel turned, her side now facing towards the Betrican and unidentified ships. The amber coloured sheen across its hull flickered, glowing in a hazy luminance across the vessel's exterior. The shields had been activated. The two Betrican torpedoes were slow at first, however as they entered supercruise, they were now swiftly cutting across the void towards the Crux vessel. Everyone within the bridge of the Orretis eyed the Captain carefully, holding their breathes, the room had fallen silent as the two warheads approached and the whistling sound of the impact alarms roared through-out the Crux vessel.

Across the side of the ship, its weapon systems had been engaged, and it sat their silently in wait, like a lion ready to pounce. Then, a thundering roar reverberated through-out the ship with loud claps of thunder that were nearly ear-splitting as everyone felt the vessel shake and shift from the recoil. With a swift gesture of her hand, the Captain fired the ship's broadside guns. Lights flashed across the side of the Crux vessel, and in seconds, the energetic projectiles zipped across the void. The torpedoes neared, and the Crux turrets quickly twisted, a hail of energy fire began to rain towards the approaching warheads.

The first one, was intercepted by this turret fire, and a bright light flashed across the void as the warhead was torn to pieces. The second one ploughed through the bright fireworks, slamming into the Crux shielding, a large explosion of light and energy flashed across the vessel, nearly the full length as the yellow energy-shielding shifted and moved like crashing waves of ocean across the surface. Inside the bridge, everyone braced as the violent change in position nearly rocked them from their seats. The blast was dispersed by the shields, and with a second volley, the next broadside begun - this time towards the Betrican vessel.

[Perseid Federation]

PSO Bar'iahmesu [FFP-612]
Thalassa Apophones, Alpha Quadrant — circa 1365 XS

---

"Barmeshu! It's a Crux vessel! Hostile! I repeat hostile!"

Crux? Anakletos went and checked the orientation of the compass rose to see if he can draw a connection with what the Silvitas told them. The operators in the CIC were doing the same. That must mean that the armed vessel approaching them originated from the direction of Cruxos — the direction pointing towards the colossal behemoth that sat in the middle of the galaxy. While they weren't entirely mistaken in drawing to that interpretation, they have yet to figure out that the name Crux also described the star-state that was tucked away in the galactic core, having drawn its name from it. But hey, if the Betricans were already showing signs of panic, then that unknown ship must be the ones whom they were fleeing from in the first place. The operators attempted to catch the "Crux" vessel's attention by hailing it again, but it was to no avail. "Commence heightened readiness protocol," Anakletos ordered the operators.

"Commencing heightened readiness protocol." The room suddenly turned dark, and a series of dim blue lights arranged in linear patterns were activated all over the walls of the CIC. The operators and the Captain left their consoles and headed for a particular section of the wall that contained eight metal cocoons. Each one of them stepped into their respective cocoons, and they sealed their entire bodies inside. After exactly 46 seconds, they all came out with light versions of the CATAPHRACT armor — the insignia of the Astronautikon printed on their right shoulders and that of the Bar'iahmesu on their left. Anakletos may have realized that perhaps his armor's midsection may be too tight for his belly.

They all returned to their respective consoles and were on standby for the Captain's orders. One of them activated a series of screens, which were video feeds of the various bays of the ship. In one of the video feeds, sophont pilots in CATAPHRACTs were rushing into their Argonauts. In another, medic drones were attending to a group of Betricans with fractured legs. As for the operators, they each put an earpiece in their ear, one with a neural interface that synchronized with their respective Metaverse Eye(s). Now the Bar'iahmesu was ready to engage if necessary. "What is the unknown's position now?" he inquired from his operators.

The Firasai responded, "About 30 XAUs, Captain. Closing in on the refugee ship's position fast."

This time, Anakletos was the one going to hail the Crux. "Attention unidentified armed vessel, this is the Astronautikon. Reverse course and leave, you are entering Perseid territory without clearance." Once again, the ship paid no attention to the Perseids and continued to steamroll through the cosmos towards the Silvitas. "Guess talking won't do us any good," he threw his hands up in resignation.

A transmission from dropship Theta interjected in the most malapropos time. "Captain," came a voice that had the ambience of raised levels of stress. He described, "Sirens just went off inside the Silvitas' docking bays. The refugees are now beginning to rush into the dropships present. Requesting immediate assistance."

"A dropship from Chilion is scheduled to arrive within the next five minutes," one of the operators responded. "Just hold on."

All of a sudden, two blips appeared coming out of the Silvitas' blip. It appears that two torpedo charges have been launched from the Betrican ship. This was not good for both parties — the Crux vessel would take notice. "Get the Betricans on the line," the Captain ordered, "I want to know what is going on that ship."

An operator turned his head back and reported, "It looks like they had the same idea." The channel was opened, and an audio transmission came forth. "Barmeshu, this is Olanna of the Silvitas, the approaching ship has activated our AI — I don't have any control of it at the moment." This was no surprise to the Perseids. Many interstellar powers have had artificial intelligence created to act and take control of the ship when a certain threat arises, especially in situations like space pirates or military warships. They could've just deactivated it manually.

The Crux warship — sensing the two torpedoes closing in on their position — turned to one of its sides and appeared to ready its array of weapons. A loud bang rang through space as the armed vessel responded to the attack with broadside fire. Charges of concentrated energy were being thrown at the torpedoes in order to stop them — the Perseids looked on at the sight. One of the torpedoes was successfully intercepted by the bursts of light, while the other warhead slipped through and impacted the vessel's energy shield. The explosion that resulted was bright and loud, and the flash of energy dispersed in a series of spheres. That was microgravity at work.

The vessel in response launched a second volley of plasma ammunition — but this time, the beams of yellow-orange light were heading for the Betrican vessel. "Energy projectiles fired at our position, Captain," reported one of the operators with stress in his voice. "Tracking course of shots." As the energy surged through the cosmos, the Perseids were able to pick up where it was headed by its apparent movement. A line was drawn by the computer on the star-map, ending on the Betrican vessel. "Energy bursts are predicted to impact and damage the refugee ship."

"Fire a couple of warning shots at the unknown vessel." Anakletos was planning to do that, even if the circumstances that began a few minutes before had developed differently. One of the turrets trained at the direction of the ship without the operators doing anything — one could say it was literally "all in the head." The large holographic screen in front of them began to update with the crosshairs fixed near the dorsal surface of the Crux ship. The guns fired, and three projectiles concealed by light raced through the darkness of space. The shots flew by the Crux vessel, and one of them flew close enough to narrowly miss the craft's shielding. Perhaps that may have got their attention. Anakletos hailed again at the unknown vessel once more saying in Universal, "Attention unidentified armed vessel, this is the Astronautikon. You are entering the Perseid Federation's territory without clearance. Reverse your course now or you will be fired upon. I repeat, reverse your course now or else."