Star Crusader [046 4.9]

      by
      Bruce Balfour

Synopsis:

   Human history relives itself as the Gorene Empire drives through the
   galaxy, much as the medieval crusaders drove through Asia--the Gorenes
   see themselves as heroes, but the aliens in their path face conquering
   armies.

Star Crusader A Novel by Bruce Balfour PRIMA PUBLISHING

Proteus" and the distinctive Proteus logo are trademarks of Prima
Publishing, a division of Prima Communications, Inc.

I)s a trademark of Prima Publishing, a division of Prima
Communications, Inc.

Erda Publishing" is a trademark of Prima Communications, Inc.

1995 byTake 2 Interactive Software.  All rights reserved.

The trademark Star Crusader" is owned by Take 2 Interactive
Software.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form 
or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, 
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written permission from Prima Publishing, except for the inclusion of 
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book are trademarks of their respective companies.

ISBN: 0-7615-0067-7 Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 94-80094 Printed in the United States of America

95969798EE 109876543 2

'Non calor sed umor est qut nobis incommodaff

CHAPTER 1 ARMEDIA QL1EEN4EOR I'll--BORDERING THE ASCALON RIFT The trick was 
to get clear of the launch bay without getting shot.  Roman Mexandria, 
of the elite Gorene Gold Squadron, kept his eye on the engine gauge as 
the thruster throttled up to full military power.  His body vibrated as 
the starfighter strained against its leash, pulsing with the flow of 
the roeta-stable hydrazine as it poured into the hellish inferno of the 
engine chamber.

The catapult officer returned Roman's salute, glanced at the 
yellow signal light on his control console, then looked across the nose 
of the starfighter to the opposite end of the launch bay.  The safety 
officer scanned the deck from his cubicle and signaled with his left 
thumb held high.

The light on the cat officer's control console turned green.

A quick look verified that the Scorpion was ready and the cat 
pistons were charged.  When he pushed the fire button, the stored power 
of the superconducting catapult was released in an instant, hurling the 
starfighter forward.

Roman's eyes pressed back into his head as the fighter plunged 
down the catapult track.  The glow of the launch bay's magnetic shield 
raced toward him faster and faster as the banshee scream of the engine 
thundered in his ears.  As the deck edge disappeared under the 
starfighter's nose, the craft leaped into the inky black void, allowing 
Roman to breathe again as the G force subsided.  He powered back the 
throttle, then slapped the gear handle up, rolling the fighter in a 
tight arc to clear the launch area.

Roman checked the rearview and saw Marsh Lawton, his wingman, 
closing in to a Loose Deuce formation on his port side.  He eased the 
throttle back to tighten the formation, then scanned his instruments 
for warning lights.  Navigation, fire control, power management, 
shields, radar, and the individual weapon systems all showed normal.  
On the left side of the instrument console, the tactical radar monitor 
showed Lawton's ship, which the IFF transponder iden-titled as a 
friendly green, despite Lawton's personal animosity toward Roman." They 
were to form up with Kayla Brool and Hela Selrase at the other end of 
the hyperspace jump, assuming Brool and Selrase were still alive in the 
Queln battle zone.  On the fringes of the Ascalon Rift, the battle zone 
was loaded with many more potential enemies, so the Gorenes had to make 
sure the Queln were defeated before they received reinforcements from 
the other races.

"Alpha Strike, CAG," barked a deep voice on Roman's comlink.

"Alpha Strike.  Go ahead, CAG?

"BARCAP reports two terminated gomers.  No further threats 
reported inbound from the jump point.  Proceed to jump and form up with 
Selrase.  The recon datalink is functioning, so you'll get your nav 
update from the Intruder on the other side?

BARCAP, the long-range Barrier Combat Patrol, had reduced the 
local threats around the Gorene base to zero, giving them a dear track 
to the jump point.  Roman checked his rearview again as he heard two 
clicks over the comlink from his wingman.  Lawton was in position.

"Dash Two is up and locked.  Thanks for the update, CAG.

CAG, the Commander of the Air Group, paused before responding in a 
softer voice."Bring your group back in one piece, Roman.  The Queln 
don't have many fighters left, but it's hot over there.

"We'll be home for dinner, CAG.  Maybe we can finish this and take a vacation.  Alpha Strike out.?

"CAG out.

Roman hesitated before contacting his competitive wing-man.

He never knew how Lawton would react when they were assigned 
missions together."Ready to go to work, Lawton?"

"Just give me a target and I'll shoot it.

The two starfighters slowed to a stop as they reached the jump 
point.  Each Gorene ship was equipped with a Singularity Field 
Generator for long-distance travel through hyperspace.

While the SFG was not an engine in the strict sense, it was 
capable of producing a field sanilar to that of a singularity at the 
center of a black hole.  Where an actual singularity caused the 
curvature of time and space to become infinite, the SFG produced a 
finite curvature.  By manipulating the field density and position, it 
could be used for long-distance space travel placing a ship within a 
few hundred kilometers of the destination.  Control over the field was 
too tricky to perform short-distance jumps.

While most of the Gorene pilots understood the general principles 
behind hyperjumps, they still viewed the loss of control over their 
fighters with suspicion.  In the early experiments, pilots had 
sometimes popped out of hyperspace into the center of a star or inside 
a planet.  The flight schools assured them that this type of event was 
now rare; besides, in relation to the immense volume of empty space, 
there were few stars and planets.  Still, when it came right down to 
it, making a hyperjump involved pressing a button, closing your eyes, 
and hoping for the best.

Roman's thumb hovered over the jump button as he took a deep 
breath."Jump in three...  two...  one:

The sky exploded around them.

ASCALON RIFT---SECTOR IImTOMB

For millennia, the hostile surface of the planet Tomb had resisted 
any attempt to mine its rich resources.  Pools of heavy metals dotted 
the landscape under a thin atmosphere, which was continuously bombarded 
with deadly radiation from the local star.  Probes and starships came 
and went, but none survived any close contact with Tomb, the Tancred 
world of the dead.  Now, Tomb was orbited by a new craft--a Gorene 
starfighter.

Jharek Bowman shuddered as he looked down at the surface of Tomb..  

There was something unsettling about the planet, although he couldn't 
pin it down.  Maybe his discomfort was an aftereffect of the jump, or 
the fact that he was about to meet with a tancred warrior named 
Stellerex.

One thing was sure, he wished the Tancreds had picked a friendlier 
meeting place, and that the Gorenes had sent an actual diplomat to Tomb 
instead of a fighter pilot.  On top of everything else, Stellerex was 
late, although Jharek didn't mind getting there first.

Jharek shook his head over his misfortune.  Even though several 
pilots had volunteered for this mission, Commander Ferrand had chosen 
him.  Was it his fault that his friends had talked him into drinking 
two Singularity Generators, without ice, in the pilot's bar?  Was it 
his fault that the alcohol had made him dance naked on the bar with 
that cute redhead?

Was it his fault that he'd staggered out of the bar and thrown up 
on Commander Ferrand?  Well, maybe it was all his fault, but was it 
fair for the Commander to send him on this suicide mission as a result?

Okay, maybe it wasn't exactly a suicide mission.  The Commander 
had assured him that it would be a peaceful meeting.  Though little was 
known about the Tancreds (the Gorene Intelligence units that had 
infiltrated the Ascalon Rift had an alarming tendency to disappear 
before reporting back), the Commander believed that the Tancreds would 
be reasonable when confronted with the mighty Gorene armada.

All the Tancreds had to do was accept the Gorenes as their masters 
and liberators, as so many other races had done in the past.  The 
Tancreds could either accept the diplomatic Gorene offer of peace and 
allow their race to become civilized or they would be destroyed.  It 
was their choice.  From that perspective,Jharek saw no reason why the 
meeting wouldn't go well.  He would return to the ar-1 base as the hero who had accepted the surrender of the Tancred
people.

Jharek's daydream was shattered by a brilliant burst of laser 
light, which left a scorch mark across the nose of his fighter.  His 
left thumb automatically punched the button that activated the shields, 
which he should have done when he arrived.

A short distance away, the business end of a hydrogen plasma 
cannon was pointed at his face.  Attached to the cannon was a Tancred 
Warlord, looking as if it could barely be restrained from destroying 
Jharek's starfighter as it hung motionless above Tomb.  Apparently, 
Stellerex had arrived.

Jharek cleared his throat and tried to sound calm, despite his 
lingering shock at the sudden appearance of the Tancred strike 
craft."This is a diplomatic mission, Tancred!  Why did you shoot at 
Jharek gasped as the humanoid face of Stellerex appeared on the cockpit 
monitor.  He wore a gold helmet adorned with horns just above his heavy 
eyebrow ridge, and he was baring his fangs.

Tradition, Gorene.  It's what you might call a dueling scar: I am 
not here to duel." Stellerex barked out a harsh laugh."Have you called 
this meeting to surrender, Gorene?" Jharek looked at his prepared 
statement.  He knew he had to get the wording right for the flight 
recorder, especially since it could end up on the newsVMs.  q come in 
the name of the Gorene Empire to seek a peaceful resolution to the 
dispute between our races.  We seek to liberate the Ascalon Rift, not 
to turn it into a battle zone.  We come to this region of space to 
share the wealth, knowledge, and power of our society with the Tancreds 
and all the races of the Ascalon Rift.  You can share in the glory of 
the society we've spent thousands of years perfecting: As Jharek paused 
for a breath, Stellerex snarled."Is this the same speech you gave the 
Queln before you attacked them?  You are arrogant aggressors, not 
liberators.  You trespass in Tancred space and preach of spreading 
alien values and laws.  The Tancreds have nothing to learn from you.  
Surrender your vessel or I will destroy it: The conversation wasn't 
going quite the way Jharek had hoped.  According to Gorene 
Intelligence, the Tancreds should not be aware of the distant Queln war 
in the Armedia Queensway.  The Queln worlds had little contact with the 
rest of the Ascalon Rift races, except through trade.  If the Tancreds 
knew about the Quein situation, it was interesting that they had not 
sent reinforcements to the battle zone.

Jharek thought about arming his weapon systems, but the surge 
would show up on Stellerex's instruments, giving him plenty of time to 
shoot Jharek first.  Escape was turning into his only option.  he would 
have to rely on his wits and his trained reflexes to get a jump on the 
barbarian Tancred.

"The Gorene flag will fly in the Ascalon Rift.  Whether this is 
accomplished peacefully or through bloodshed is up to you and the other 
races.  I urge you to cooperate with us, learn from us.  Peace is 
possible."

Stellerex's eyes widened as he screamed,"Never.

The piercing tone of the threat alarm vibrated in Jharek's skull 
as Stellerex put a radar lock on his ship.  Jharek responded by 
slapping the throttle to full power, then shoving the flight stick hard 
to port and forward, rolling underneath the deadly shot from the 
Tancred cannon.  The threat alarm stopped as Jharek broke the targeting 
lock.

The Gorene Scorpion's superior maneuverability and speed might 
enable Jharek to get behind Stellerex.  From there, he hoped to launch 
a torpedo up the Warlord's tail.

However, Stellerex was not fooled by such a simple trick.

Before Jharek could roll out of his high-G turn, his fighter shook 
with the impact of a laser shot against his shields at close range.  
The Damage Control monitor listed the shield generators in yellow, 
meaning they had suffered moderate damage that could be repaired by the 
onboard nano systems in forty seconds.  But forty seconds was a long 
time.

Jharek inverted and rolled to starboard, but Stellerex stayed 
behind him.  The second shot rattled his teeth and knocked the shield 
generators completely off-line.  Jharek's palms began to sweat inside 
his gloves as he switched to the Power Management monitor to make sure 
the repair system had full power to work on the shields.  The surface 
of Tomb orbited twice around his canopy as he continued to roll in a 
desperate effort to avoid the next shots.  Tancred ships were supposed 
to be pigs to maneuver, but Stellerex was having no trouble staying 
behind Jharek, snapping off quick laser shots that tore holes in the 
Scorpion's armor, taking the ship apart piece by piece.The threat alarm 
kept screaming in his ears--warning him that Stellerex was a much 
better pilot, warning him that he was about to die.

To survive,Jharek would have to maneuver within range of the jump 
point and come to a complete stop before setting the return heading for 
the jump.  He felt helpless.

Stellerex seemed to be laughing over the comlink as he toyed with 
Jharek, allowing him to maneuver away from Tomb toward the jump point, 
firing random laser bolts that blistered past his canopy.  The Damage 
Control list was getting longer, overloading the repair systems, but 
the main engine and the SFG were still functioning.  If they could last 
a little longer, Jharek had a chance of making it back alive.

As Jharek reached the jump point, his pulse racing with 
adrenaline, he stopped suddenly, hoping Stellerex would overshoot his 
position.  He dialed in the new heading, startled to see that his plan 
had worked as the Warlord raced past his canopy at high speed.  Jharek 
paused as he realized he was in a position to launch a torpedo, and his 
fingers hesitated between the weapon systems and the SFG.  Then he saw 
the hydrogen plasma torpedo Stellerex had launched at his position as 
he had passed.

The expanding plasma fireball ripped the Scorpion to shreds.  As 
the cockpit filled with light,Jharek punched the ejection button.  In 
the slow motion of those final moments, Jharek heard a loud bang, 
followed by a crushing force and a strange silence as the fierce light 
burned through his eyelids.

The ejection pod spun toward the dead world of Tomb.

CHAPTER 2 ARMEDIA QUEENSWAY--SECTOR IH--FFESTINIOG Roman came out of the 
jump with his usual headache, grit-ting his teeth.  He took a deep 
breath, relaxed his grip on the flight stick, and checked his rearview 
as he tried to focus his eyes.  Lawton was still holding his position 
in the formation.

Now they had to find Selrase and Brool.

The comlink buzzed as Black Eye, the Intruder recon ship, picked 
them up on radar.  "Alpha Strike!  Four bogies coming your way!"

Startled by the sudden threat, Roman glanced at his tactical 
monitor.  It showed four inbound Queln fighters, just now becoming 
visible through the cockpit window.  Since they were still on the edge 
of the battle zone, the Queln must have been patrolling the jump point.

Roger, Black Eye.  I've got a visual.

Lawton's voice was tense."They're moving fast, Roman.

The Queln weren't spectacular pilots, but they knew enough to 
travel in large groups.The Gorenes had found that the Queln rarely 
broke their formations, preferring to act with excellent coordination.  
If they could force a quick break in the formation, the odds would be 
improved.

"Lawton, we're going straight in.  Full afterburner.

"Straight in?  Are you serious?"

A-burn on three.  One...  two..  ?

Maybe we should--"

"Three!"

Roman punched in the afterburner.  A glance back reassured him 
that Lawton was following, although he was farther behind than before.

Tighten it up, Lawton.  When we get through the furball, brake and 
return.

"Sure, if they don't break us first.

Roman held his flight path straight and level, racing toward the 
Queln on a collision course.  Surprised by the tactic, the Quein 
fighters took a few wild shots as the Gorene ships bore down on them.  
At that speed, Roman couldn't get a decent lock on any of his targets, 
either.  He was just starting to wonder if his plan would work, or if 
his fighter would slam into them at high velocity, when the Queln ships 
broke formation and scattered in panic.  As Roman passed through them, 
he shut off the afterburner and reversed thrust, swinging the fighter 
back around in a punishing high-G turn that placed him in firing 
position behind one of the Queln.  The target lock whined in his ears.  
"I've got tone.  Fox one away.

In less than two heartbeats, the missile found its target.

The Queln exploded with a satisfying flash.

"Fox one," said Lawton, launching his own missile.

Another explosion to Roman's left told him that Lawton had also 
scored.  Then his fighter shook as the shields took a hit from below.  
He punched the afterburner and spiraled down toward the Queln.  Herce 
streaks of light from the Queln cannon weaved a complex pattern around 
Roman's fighter as he rolled and dodged while maintaining his course.  
The target alert beeped three times before he killed the after burner and finally got a lock.

Fox two!"

The missile closed the short distance in less than a second.

Roman watched the Queln fighter pull up, attempting to climb above 
the shot.  The missile removed the Quein fighter's engines in a flash, 
leaving only the front portion of the fighter intact.  Roman swerved to 
avoid the Queln cockpit as it spun toward him, then he found the fourth 
Queln closing in on him from above in a perfect firing position.  The 
threat alarm shrieked, not helping his headache.  Roman changed course, 
but the Queln anticipated his move and followed.  The threat alarm continued to shriek.

Fox two awaY; Lawton announced.

The Queln fighter disappeared from Roman's rearview, replaced by 
an expanding cloud of debris.  However, the threat alarm still 
shrieked.

Roman!  Missile coming your way!"

Roman pulled back hard on the flight stick, punching the 
afterburner again to outrun the missile.

"You're not losing it!"

The missile was closing the gap.  Unable to outrun it, Roman 
killed the afterburner, rotated to face the missile, and shut off his 
engines.

"Stay clear, Lawton!  This might not work!'

Roman punched his firing button, spraying the area around the 
missile with laser fire.  Unconcerned, the missile continued on its 
path.

Roman muttered a curse--the missile was annoyingly persistent.  
His thumb plunged down to launch a missile.

Fox three!

His heart had time to pound twice before the two missiles came 
together in a brilliant reddish-orange flash.  Roman slapped the 
throttle and turned away, but several fragments from the explosion 
bounced him around as they ran into his shields.

Lawton chuckled.  you should have thought of that sooner.

Roman remembered to start breathing again.  I was busy.

The delicate features of Hela Selmse's face, broken by occasional 
static, appeared on Roman's communications monitor.

Her flashing blue eyes told him she wasn't happy.

"Roman!  Are we going to get any help from you, or what?" Cool 
off, Hela.  We had some trouble on our way in.

"The two of us are fighting half the Quein fleet, and you're 
telling me you've got problems?

It was hard for Roman to lose patience with her.  She was one of 
the best pilots in the squadron, but nobody expected her patrol to land 
in the middle of the remaining Queln battle group.  She and Kayla Brool 
had quite a fight on their hands."Hang on.  We'll be there in a few.

"Just don't stop for a cold one on the way here, okay?

Selrase out?

"Alpha Strike out?

The navigational system could trace Hela's signal, but he was 
thinking he should ask for an update from the Intruder when his comlink 
beeped again.

"Alpha Strike, this is Black Eye.  We're sending you the new 
battle coordinates.  Your vector one eight zero degrees, forty 
kilometers, over?

"Roger, one eight zero and forty.  Two birds on their way?

Hela Selrase knew that Roman wouldn't waste any time in coming to 
their aid.  He had a strong chivalrous streak, even though it could be 
carried to extremes.  He was always quick to acknowledge that Hela 
could fly just as well as he could, even though his reflexes always 
seemed to be a few nanoseconds faster than hers.  Though she never 
admitted it to anyone else, she spent most of her time thinking about 
Roman--that is, when she wasn't trying to kill something.

Since they were both fighter pilots in the same squadron, their 
relationship had to remain a secret, otherwise they could be separated.

"Alpha Tac, this is Black Eye.  Alpha Strike will vector on your 
position in five.  Be advised we show sixteen hostiles launching from 
the two battle group carriers.

Hela felt her neck muscles tightening.  Sixteen against two.  
Between her and Brool, they had already logged eight kills during this 
"simple clean-up" patrol.  They were both tired.  She could only hope 
the battle group wouldn't launch any more fighters.When they were given 
their orders regarding this battle zone, there were only supposed to be 
four fighters with one damaged carrier.  Instead, they'd been thrilled 
to discover that a new carrier had arrived, accompanied by two cruisers 
providing a full defensive screen.  Delayed by technical problems, the 
Black Eye recon ship had arrived behind Hela's group.  After destroying 
the Queln barrier patrol, Hela and Brool had teamed up against each of 
the cruisers, battering them until they could no longer function.

Hela had initiated the contact with Roman as they had pulled back 
to recharge their weapons and allow the onboard repair systems to do 
their jobs.  They had intended that the undamaged carrier be their next 
target, but the arrival of the new Queln fighters had changed their 
plans.

With tactical updates from the Black Eye data !ink, Roman studied 
the battle zone while he and Lawton were en route.

The Queln must have held their last working carrier in reserve for 
a final stand near their home planet, Ffestiniog, hoping that the 
Gorenes would be defeated outside the home sector.  The orbiting 
defensive satellites and smart mines had been destroyed by previous 
Gorene strikes.  The damaged carrier orbiting around Ffestiniog was 
unable to move, but it was still able to launch its complement of 
fighters, most of which Hela and Brool had destroyed.  They could 
assume that the remaining Queln would put up a desperate fight in the 
belief that they were saving their civilization from Gorene 
enslavement.  If they had listened to the Gorene diplomats, they'd have 
known that their best course of action was surrender.  The logic was 
clear.  However, this was another backward civilization that preferred 
to remain that way.

"Roman, my monitor shows one active carrier and six teen loose gomers in tight; said Lawton.

"Cross check on their heading?"

"Three zero eight moving at four hundred?

"Black Eye?"

"Black Eye confirm's, Alpha Strike.  Three zero eight at four 
hundred."

"Roger that.  Lawton, come around to two seven zero.

We'll screen our approach with the planet between us and the 
battle group.  I know how the Queln enjoy surprises."

Roman looked down at Ffestiniog as they crossed the terminator.

In the gaps between the clouds, the night side of the planet 
showed the lights of several large cities.  As they passed over, it 
felt as if they were stationary with the planet rotating beneath them.  
From this distance, it all seemed quite peaceful.  Roman found himself 
wondering what the Queln were like in person.  He'd seen projections of 
the Queln, but he had never met or spoken to one.  It seemed 
unfortunate that most of his contacts with aliens involved killing 
them.

"Roman?  We could use some help out here!" With the planet between them, Hela's voice sounded distant and strained.

"We're bringing up the rear, m'dear."

Over the curve of the planet, the Queln carrier came into view, 
its dark engines facing them.  As Roman watched, a fighter popped out 
of a launch bay.  Only one bay appeared to be operating.

"Lawton, let's bring it in close on their stern quarter.  You take 
the new guy, and I'll shut those launch bay doors.  We want to keep 
this party private."

Roman watched in the rearview as Lawton acknowledged by pumping 
his fist.  The wingman dipped his nose and crossed under Roman's 
fighter, surfacing off the right wing.

In that position, he would have a wider range of movement as Roman 
moved in close to the carrier.

He waggled the flight stick, noting the heaviness of the controls 
that had bothered him when he was first learning to fly the Scorpion.  
The stick had an artificial feel system that resisted displacement from 
its center position.  Each fighter had its own personality, but Roman 
had learned his trade in the Liberator strike craft, which required a 
more delicate touch on the controls.  Most of the other pilots thought 
the Liberator was too touchy, but they had trained on Scorpions in the 
simulators.  When Roman entered the service, they were losing Liberator 
pilots faster than they could be replaced.  Having noted Roman's quick 
reflexes, the flight school instructors pulled him out of the newbie 
group and slotted him to fly a Liberator.  During the Armedia Queensway 
campaign against the Queln, the situation had reversed itself so that 
Scorpion fighter pilots were in short supply.

Roman eased his throttle to full power and punched in the 
afterburner.  Lawton did the same as he started his descent toward the 
lone Queln that had just left the safety of the launch bay.

"Take him, Lawton.  I'll see you on the other side?

As the Queln fighter noticed their approach from his rear and 
started to turn, Lawton peeled off and went after him.

Roman continued his course straight in to the launch bay, idly 
wondering why the carrier defenses hadn't opened up on him yet.  As if 
in answer to his question, Roman's ship bounced as his shields took a 
direct hit from a heavy laser battery.  The flash of the impact left 
little spots fading in his vision.

The nose of the fighter came down as Roman lined up his shot on 
the lights of the open landing bay.  Inside, he could see another 
fighter preparing to launch off the cat.

The crosshairs dropped into place as the carrier shields powered 
down for another launch, allowing him to spray the bay opening with 
cannon fire.  The launching fighter exploded on the cat, slamming 
against the bay doors.  Roman continued to pour cannon fire into the 
opening until it was clear that the deck had turned to molten metal, 
glowing in place of the lights Roman had destroyed.  No more Queln 
fighters would be launched until that damage was repaired.

The carrier expressed its opinion of his actions by focusing two 
gun batteries on his ship.  The bright hammer blows of the heavy guns 
glowed against his failing shields, sending him spinning away from the 
carrier.

"Another Queln bites the dust," said Lawton, after his own 
success.  He had a tendency to use ancient catch phrases that no one 
understood anymore.  "I'm off to help Hela if you're okay, Roman."

Roman would have answered him, but his helmet kept bouncing off 
his canopy as he fought to control his violent spin.  Damage Control 
showed he was about to lose his shields.  Power Management directed the 
available energy surplus into repairs to keep the shields going.  After 
more flashing and bouncing, Roman didn't care which way he was pointed, 
so he kicked in the afterburner as a desperate attempt to get out of the carrier's field of fire.

"Roman?  You okay?"

The fighter finally stopped spinning, but Roman's head did not."I 
don't have any shields, the armor's punctured on my starboard wing, and 
I have the worst headache you could ever believe.  Yeah, I'm fine.  
Form up on Selrase and I'll be right there."

Roman throttled back and allowed the ship to drift, giving the 
repair nanos full power to work on the shields as his head 
cleared."Hela?  Lawton is on his way and I'm under repair.  I took out 
the launch bay, so there won't be any more fliers."

"Good.  We've taken out four more and eight have peeled off, but 
we're still working on four:

"Are the eight returning to the carrier?"

"Negative."

Under normal circumstances, Roman wouldn't worry about Hela, but 
she sounded tired enough to start making mistakes.  He'd have to wait 
at least one more minute to get his shields back.  His fighter couldn't 
help anyone if it was blown to bits.

As he checked his tactical display for the whereabouts of the 
eight fighter group, a glint in the rearview caught his eye.  A tiny 
scout ship was launching from what appeared to be a large torpedo tube 
near the carrier's stem.  Scouts were only launched in a combat 
situation if someone, or something, important was trying to escape As 
its main engine ignited in a white glow, the ship began to accelerate 
away around the planet, roughly following the reverse course of Roman's 
surprise approach to the carrier.

Black Eye, Alpha Strike.  Course projection on that Queln scout?"

Alpha Strike, the scout is heading three zero two into the scan 
shadow of Ffestiniog.  When it comes out of the shadow, we will 
advise."

"Roger, Black Eye.  Lawton, there's something strange happening 
here.  I'm following the scout.

We need your help with these fighters, Roman!  I've got three on 
my tail!  We'll get the scout later!"

Roman turned to a heading of three zero two and throttled up."I'll be right back.

Roman!  Get over here!"

He punched in the afterburner.  Roman didn't want to use the 
afterburner too much because it would deplete his fuel reserves, but he 
had to catch the scout before it went too far.  The scout would only be 
carrying light armament to conserve weight and improve its speed.  
Roman thought it was significant that the scout was going in the 
opposite direction from most of the carrier's fighter wing.  If he 
couldn't intercept it, he at least wanted to get a good idea of where 
it was going.

Crossing the terminator to the night side of Ffest'miog, Roman 
gradually closed on the scout.  Aware of him now, the scout began 
evasive action, and Roman took his time lining up the targeting 
crosshairs.  He had five missiles left, so he couldn't afford to waste 
a shot.

The threat alarm broke his concentration.  Somebody had a 
targeting lock on his ship.  He jerked the stick forward, starting a 
big spiral toward the surface of the planet.  His tactical monitor 
showed the eight Quein fighters approaching from two sides, which 
explained their absence from the fight with Hela and the others.  The 
alarm was burping as Roman became a more difficult target to lock on, 
but with eight fighters, one of them would launch a missile soon.  His 
guess about the scout's importance must have been correct.

It continued sailing away to safety while Roman concerned himself 
with more immediate matters.

A missile was headed his way.  Roman stopped his descent suddenly 
with full reverse thrust.  The sudden jerk was hard on his neck, but 
not as painful as an exploding missile would have been.  The missile, 
unable to find him at the expected coordinates, blindly raced past, 
heading straight toward the opposite fighter group.  He assumed the 
missile had an IFF, Identify-Friend-or-Foe, system that would disarm 
the warhead before striking a friendly starfighter, but it had to be 
distressing for the Queln pilots to see one of their own missiles 
speeding toward them.  The group responded by breaking its formation, 
which also gave Roman a chance to lock on one of them and launch a 
missile of his own.  The impact destroyed one fighter, while the debris 
from the explosion shredded a second one nearby.  Sometimes he got 
lucky.

Two more missiles were on their way toward Roman, who was getting 
tired of the threat alarm screaming at him all the time.  He rolled and 
climbed toward one of the stragglers from the disorganized Queln group, 
hurtling toward his enemy's engine exhaust with fierce determination.

Roman's forward shield glowed with the intense heat of the nearby 
engine, but he stayed in place, twisting and turning with the confused 
Queln's evasive maneuvers, keeping his eye on the incoming missiles.  
At the last moment, Roman broke off and throttled back, allowing the 
missles to lock onto the Queln fighter's exhaust.  The missiles 
responded with a quick warhead shutdown, but their momentum carried 
them straight into the engine exhaust, where the heat set off the 
explosives.  Roman turned away before the debris reached him, then he 
noticed the other four fighter formation closing on his position.  He 
needed help.

Lawton?  You out there?" No response.

Alpha aTac, this is Alpha Strike, do you copy?

Silence was a bad sign.  Roman might be the only one left.

The planet's shadow might be blocking transmissions, but he'd been 
able to reach Hela earlier on their way toward the carrier.

Time to assess the situation.  Five Queln fighters, four missiles 
in the tubes, minor shield damage, a hole in one wing, and low on fuel.  

Roman sighed--it could be worse.

Since it had worked before, Roman rolled, punched in the 
afterburner, and aimed his fighter straight at the oncoming Queln 
group.  As he hurtled toward them, Roman admired this group's 
determination to maintain its formation.

They made a few half-hearted attempts to nail him with cannon 
fire.  He expected them to break formation at any second to avoid the 
Gorene lunatic coming at them in an obvious suicide run.

Unfortunately, this group wasn't cooperating.  Roman yanked on the 
flight stick in an attempt to avoid the leader, but he still managed to 
hit the shields and scrape the enemy ship as he went past.  It was an 
exciting moment for both of them.

Roman realized he was breathing too fast.  His hands were shaking.  

He tried to calm himself by taking a few deep breaths, but that only 
served to make him lightheaded.  He rolled the fighter and reversed 
course, firing too soon at the four Queln fighters and wasting a 
missile.  They were making a graceful turn back toward him.  Then his 
threat alarm screamed--the fifth fighter!  He looked around just in 
time to see the missile explode against his starboard shields, taking a 
chunk out of his wing and sending sparkling metal fragments past the 
cockpit window.  He closed his eyes too late, taking too much of the 
explosion's light in his eyes, blinding him for a moment.

In a panic, he squeezed the afterburner switch and jerked the 
flight stick in different directions, in order to present a difficult 
target.  The threat alarm startled him into launching another 
missile--he thought he saw a target straight in front of the fighter, 
but it was only a bright section of the planet's surface.  Another 
missile wasted.  The threat alarm continued to scream, then it abruptly 
fell silent.  Roman continued his evasive maneuvers, cursing his 
blindness.

The reassuring subsonic rumble of his main engine whined down to a 
lower pitch, then died into an eerie silence.

He was out of fuel.  A voice in the back of his mind told Roman he 
was about to die.

CHAPTER 3 ARMEDIA QUEENSWAY---SECTOR m--FFESTINOG

As Roman's vision returned, he was able to verify the zero fuel 
condition.  Life support continued to operate with minimal power.  The 
ship still had forward momentum, but it was floating without direction.  

He checked the rearview and saw only darkness lit by an occasional 
flash in the distance.  Since he wasn't shot, he looked around to find 
that the fight had moved away from him.  Lawton and the others must 
have realized he was missing and come looking for him.  It was good to have friends.

"Hela?"

Not now, Roman.  We're busy cleaning up after you.

Roman took a deep breath."Thanks for the help.

"You did your share.  Black Eye gave us the update on your 
situation.

"The last one is down; said Lawton."Anyone interested in going 
home?"

I'd love to; said Roman,"but I don't seem to have any power.

Roman was pleased to hear Hela's concerned voice.  WAre you hurt?  
How bad is your damage?"

I'm okay, but I'm seeing a lot of colored spots.  I took a hot one 
in my shields.

Can you relight your engine?"

Uh, no, I can't.  I'm out of fuel."

Silence followed Roman's announcement--he knew what they were 
thinking.  Only rookies ran out of fuel, and they usually made that 
mistake only once, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.

Lawton cleared his throat to disguise a chuckle."Did you say you're out of fuel?"

"Affirmative.

Kayla had to chime in, too.  "You're aware that your engine can't 
function without fuel?"

Give me a break.  A guy makes one mistake and you jump all over 
him.

'If you hadn't run off on your own, perhaps we'd be a little more 
concerned,said Lawton.

Hela took his side."Leave him alone, Marsh.  He went after the 
scout ship.

Lawton paused."Did you intercept the scout, Roman?"

Well, no, not exactly.

"As I thought; Lawton continued.  "You're a radical, Roman.

You're not part of the team.

"Would somebody mind giving me a tow back to the base?

I'd like to get home before my life support system fails.

Hela's ship turned and moved toward Roman.  "I'll tow you back, 
though I should probably listen to Marsh and leave you stranded.

Roman felt stung by the tease, but he bit his tongue.  He was, 
after all, at their mercy.

Roman's ship bounced as Hela's tractor beam locked on.

Roman sank back in his seat and stretched his legs as far as he 
could in the cramped confines of the cockpit, relaxing for what seemed 
like the first time in days.  If the intelligence reports were correct, 
there was a good chance that they had just defeated the last of the 
Queln battle fleet.  In any case, he was tired, and it was time to get 
some sleep.

ASCALON RIFT--APPROACHING SECTOR I The fist hurtling toward his face startled Roman out of his 
drunken fog.  Acting by reflex, Roman ducked, grabbed the attacker's 
outstretched arm, stood up straight, and launched the man over his 
back.  Roman turned in time to see Marsh Lawton land on the buffet 
table, scattering silver trays and sandwiches on the floor.  With 
olives on toothpicks sticking out of his back, giving him the 
appearance of a Gany-median porcupine, Lawton slid off the table with a 
groan.

The performance continued as Lawton caught his right foot in the 
festive gray-and-white table bunting, causing him to stumble and slam 
his face into the floor, knocking himself unconscious.  The crowd of 
partygoers stared in shocked silence for a moment, then resumed their 
conversations.

Drunken fights had come to be a common occurrence on the carrier.

Roman blinked and steadied himself against a chair as the spacious 
Officer's Lounge seemed to spin around him.  The long-winded Admiral 
Gridder had addressed the Gold Squadron pilots for over an hour, and 
the only way to get through the long speech had been to drink freely of 
the captured Queln wine.  Two weeks earlier, a Gorene patrol had fired 
a warning shot that had torn off the back end of a Queln wine runner on 
its way to the Ascalon Rift.  When they iden-titled the cargo spilling 
out uselessly into space, the quick-thinking pilots had activated their 
tractor beams, recovering almost a ton of the popular beverage.  Roman 
found the wine a bit sweet for his taste, but it had a delightful kick 
to it.  Of course, he wouldn't have done so much drinking if he'd known 
he was going to get into a fight.

The.  announcement of Roman's promotion to wing leader had raised 
a few eyebrows.  Even though the other pilots respected his skills, the 
constant wear and tear on Roman's starfighters was legendary.  It 
seemed that Marsh Lawton, his only real competition for wing leader, 
had taken exception to the decision.  Roman had noticed Lawton earlier, 
Standing in a corner and glaring at him, but he hadn't expected a 
physical attack.  If anything, Roman was more startled than angry.

Roman took another drink as Lawton groaned and sat up on the 
floor, pulling toothpicks out of the back of his uniform.

"A sneak attack," said Roman, shaking his head.  I'm surprised at 
you, Lawton.

Lawton tossed an olive over his shoulder and looked up at Roman 
with cold blue eyes." That promotion should have been mine and you 
know it.

Roman snorted."You think they'd want a hothead like you in command 
of a combat wing?" At least I manage to bring my ships back in one 
piece; Lawton hissed.

As my father used to say, 'Sometimes you have to break a few eggs to make an omelette:'

What's an omelette?"

Never mind,said Roman.  He'd always wondered about that himself.  
Better to change the subject.  "So, you think your opinion gives you 
the right to punch me out?" Lawton started to stand, then winced and 
sat back down, rubbing his left knee.  He glared at Roman."You had it 
coming: Roman raised one eyebrow.  I see.  This isn't just about my 
promotion, is it?

No, and you know it.

Roman looked around, but no one else seemed to be paying any 
attention to them.  He knew Lawton hated him for taking Hela Selrase 
away from him, but romantic involvements among the pilots weren't 
allowed.  It wouldn't do either of their careers any good to bring 
their relationships with Hela out into the open."This isn't the time or 
place to talk about this, Lawton: Lawton grunted and used a chair to 
steady himself as he stood up, returning to his original subject."I 
just don't understand how you do it.  You've been reckless ever since 
we started flight school.  You interpret orders to suit yourself.

You've got a problem with authority.

it depends on the authority.  Just because someone wears a 
uniform, it doesn't mean I have to agree with them: "You're a Gorene 
pilot.  You have to follow orders just like the rest of us."

"Maybe I know when I should follow orders and when I should think 
for myself.

Lawton rolled his eyes."They have no idea what they've done by 
promoting you.

"If you think I'm such a bad pilot, all you'll have to do is wait 
until I get killed in combat.  Then maybe they'll make you the wing 
leader.

Lawton limped a couple of steps closer to Roman so he could glare 
into his face.  "You have an answer for everything, don't you?" Roman 
wrinkled his nose as he smelled Lawton's strong breath, but he held his 
ground.  "No.  Not everything.  For example, I don't know how to avoid 
the hangover I'm going to have in the morning:

"That's another thing.  You drink too much.

"You don't drink enough."

"Because I don't make a fool of myself in public?"

"It might do you some good;' Roman smirked.  He wanted to add that 
Lawton didn't need any help making a fool of himself in public, but 
resisted the temptation.  After all, he was now Lawton's commanding 
officer, and one of them had to act like an adult.

"We're doomed;' said Lawton.  Then he turned on his heel and 
stormed away, jostling two of the younger pilots into the wall.  Roman 
noted that there were still three olives on toothpicks sticking out of 
Lawton's back.

'Nice chatting with you,Roman called after him.  Always a 
pleasure.

Roman sneezed, spilling some of the wine he was pouring into his 
glass.  The amount of dust in the storage closet was amazing.  The glow 
panel in the ceiling was losing its charge, flickering like an anxious 
firefly.  The cot he was sitting on creaked with his every movement.  
Racks of first aid equipment towered over him, and he was surrounded by 
folding cots, blankets, bottled water, bio-diagnostic computers, a 
barrel of wine, and other emergency supplies.  When he wanted to 
retreat someplace where he wouldn't be disturbed, Roman always went 
into this forgotten closet, which he had discovered long ago while 
exploring the sublevels of the super-carrier.

The barrel of wine had been his own addition, an emergency supply 
that the quartermaster had apparently overlooked when stocking the 
closet.  As he neared the end of the bottle of Queln wine, Roman 
considered the wine barrel, loaded with the infamous Porthmadog Blue, 
then shook his head.  It was time to stop drinking before he got 
depressed.

He looked down at the medals on his uniform, thinking how his 
parents would have enjoyed his decorations.  There was a time when the 
awards would have meant something to him as well.  Hieronymous Vox and 
Diva Jule had been Gold Squadron pilots for many years.  They were 
fierce warriors, not because they enjoyed killing but because they 
believed in Gorene ideals.  Later, they became famous Gorene diplomats 
before they were killed on a peace mission to Kenlumpi, overlord of the 
Cee' Haarra people.  Vox and Jule returned home in several pieces.

The Gorene High Command had responded with full force, reducing 
the remainder of the Cee' Haarra fleet and their homeworld to ashes.  
Defying his orders, Roman had left his Liberator strike group to launch 
a direct attack on Kenlumpi's flagship, which he cut up into sections 
with his cannon fire.  When an escape pod bearing Kenlumpi's personal 
insignia had tried to leave the exploding flagship, Roman wasted no 
time in destroying it.  After the attack, Roman wondered if he'd done 
the right thing by flaming the pod, but the squadron had supported his 
actions.  What bothered him was the knowledge that his parents wouldn't 
have approved of his revenge.  His parents would have forgiven Kenlumpi 
as an ignorant savage.

At first, the Cee' Haarra people had been relieved to hear of 
Kenlumpi's death.  As part of the first cleanup team to land on their 
homeworld, Roman had witnessed their gratitude firsthand.  The 
assignment was intended to give Roman a combat break after the death of 
his parents.  However, the old Cee' Haarra infrastructure fell apart 
without Kenlumpi's dictatorship, and as the people realized that their 
one dictator was being replaced by several military commanders, they 
began to wonder if their lot had improved.

Revolts broke out as Gorene methods took the place of Cee' Haarra 
traditions.  The local culture, religion, government, and educational 
system disappeared almost overnight.

Roman was one of the "peace enforcers" assigned to hunting down 
revolutionary groups.  With an extensive occupation army, new laws 
imposed on the citizens, and "mental reconditioning," the Cee' Haarra 
people eventually came to accept the Gorene way.

By the time Roman left the planet, it was clear that the 
creativity of the people had been crushed.  If new art did not conform 
to Gorene standards, it was unacceptable.  Knowing that his parents 
would have been pleased by the absorption of the Cee' Haarra culture 
into the Gorene Empire, Roman felt guilty about his attitudes toward 
the Gorene military government.  Resistance to new ideas was always 
expected, but this was the first time Roman had witnessed the violent 
methods used by the Gorenes to squeeze the life out of existing 
cultures.

Too many things were changing.  He remembered the oath he'd taken 
on his first day at the academy--all new pilots pledged to dedicate 
themselves to technical, educational, personal, and economic 
improvement everywhere that life exists.  This was the foundation Of 
Gorene values, which fueled their continuing expansion throughout the 
galaxy.  Many civilizations had to be subdued by Gorene forces before 
they would accept the training that the Gorenes offered, just as the 
Cee' Haarra people had, but the Gorenes were willing to pay that price.  

However, the longer that Roman was in the military, the more he saw 
how ambitious people could twist Gorene values to further their own 
ends.  The medals on Roman's uniform could just as easily be badges of 
shame, marking each new civilization crushed under the heels of Gorene 
conquest.  Would the Gorene expansion ever stop?

He knew these were dangerous thoughts.  Except in the presence of 
Hela, who also grappled with these questions, Roman knew he couldn't 
discuss his changing views about the Gorene way.  Political prisoners 
had been brainwiped for speaking such heretical notions.  Now that he'd 
been promoted, his superiors would be keeping a close eye on him to 
make sure he was encouraging "properthinking among the squadron.

He took another drink and noticed that his hand was shaking.  
There used to be an adrenaline thrill attached to flying combat 
missions, but recent events had left Roman feeling closer to death than 
ever before.  Trained as a warrior, and raised in the Gorene tradition, 
he was disgusted with himself for this weakness.  If the rebels in the 
Ascalon Rift were half as good as the intelligence reports said they 
were, he might have trouble reaching thirty standard years of age.

Roman had realized that he was mortal, and that he did not want to 
die.  He set the wine glass on the floor.  He'd had enough morbid 
thoughts for one day.  Too much thinking would only get him in trouble.

The glow panel went dark for a moment.  Roman frowned as he heard 
the closet door open and close.  When the light came back on, he saw 
Hela Selrase standing over him.  She looked marvelous in her dress 
uniform, and she knew it.  Her shoulder-length black hair stood out in 
marked contrast against the white uniform jacket and hat.  As always, 
she had managed to find the one spot in the room where a breeze from a 
vent could swirl her red cape behind her with dramatic flair.  The 
medals on the upper curve of her chest glittered in the light as she 
examined the room.

It's dusty in here.

Good evening, Hela.

I really don't understand what you see in this place.

Privacy.  Would you like some wine?

She remained standing.  Roman moved his wine glass so that her 
shiny black boots wouldn't knock it over.

"No, thanks,' said Hela, taking one step closer.  "I had enough 
wine while trying to sit through Admiral Gridder's speech."

"It was a long one.  Did I mention how nice that new medal looks 
on your jacket?"

"Is that what you're staring at?

Roman cleared his throat.  "It's one of the things.

Hela smiled.  Her teeth were perfect.  Each tooth lined up evenly 
with the next as if her entire smile had been cut out of a solid chunk of ivory."It's warm in here.

It's getting warmer all the time.

Roman started to stand up, but Hela put her hands on his 
shoulders, pushing him back down on the cot.  "Down, boy.

His head began to spin.  'Hey, let's remember that I'm your 
commanding officer now, Selrase.  Show some respect.

Hela started unbuttoning her uniform.  "Of course, sir.

Accept my congratulations on your promotion.  Would it be okay 
with the wing leader if I took off my jacket?"

Before he could respond, Hela removed her cape and jacket.That 
would be fine,he said, admiring her dexterity.

The glow panel dimmed again, deepening the shadow of Hela's hat 
brim over her eyes.  She brushed past Roman's face, neatly folding the 
jacket once and setting it on the wine barrel, the cleanest location in 
the room.  While her back was still turned toward Roman, she reached 
down in one fluid motion and ran her fingers along the outer seams of 
her pants, releasing the touch seal, exposing her legs from her hips to 
the tops of her shiny boots.

"I didn't realize it would be so hot in here," purred Hela, 
folding her pants on top of the jacket.

"Uh huh; said Roman, admiring the smooth curves of her legs.

"With all this dust, I want to make sure my uniform doesn't get 
dirty," she said, removing her shirt and leaving just her bodysuit.

Roman nodded, watching her fingers do their work.  "Of course not.  That would be awful.  Dirt is a bad, bad thing."

"That's right, sir.  And you've been bad, too."

What do you mean?" Roman was having a hard time thinking 
straight.

Hela placed her shirt on the wine barrel, then took off her hat 
and placed it on the pile.  She shook her hair and slipped her arms out 
of her white bodysuit.  "Have you looked at your uniform?"

"No?And he wasn't about to look at it now.

She turned away, and her finely muscled back rippled under the dim 
light as she peeled off her bodysuit.  With great care, she slipped it 
down her legs, over her boots, and added it to the pile, sayings"You're 
getting your uniform all dirty in here, sir.

'Ah,said Roman.  He was having trouble with words.  He knew she'd 
said something about his uniform, but he wasn't following the 
conversation very well.

Naked but for her boots, Hela turned to face him.  Hers was the 
most beautiful body he'd ever seen.  It always took his breath away 
when her statuesque form stood unveiled before his eyes.

"Take them off,she said, gesturing at his clothes.

"Is that an order, Selrase?"

"Yes." Her boot heels clicked on the floor as she approached the 
cot and started to pull off his jacket.  Her breath was hot on his 
cheek as her mouth brushed past his face.

Roman swallowed.  "You realize you're out of uniform in the 
presence of an officer."

"No, I'm not," she whispered, nibbling on his ear.  "I still have 
my boots on."

"Ah.  Good point,"

"Shut up and kiss me.

She pushed him down on the cot.  The overhead glow panel flashed 
and went out, plunging the room into darkness.

ASCALON RIFT--SECTOR I--PRAJNA-7 In the long history of the Gorene Empire, the construction of a 
full-scale battle station was a rare event, reserved for those regions 
of space occupied by the most troublesome enemies.  Even with automated 
construction techniques and advanced structural technology, a battle 
station took almost a full Gorene year to construct, during which time 
it was in its most vulnerable condition.  During the building phase, a 
battle station's location was kept secret even among the members of the 
Gorene High Command.

There were few visitors.  The only arrivals consisted of robot 
freighters carrying building materials to the station, supplemented by 
the occasional Gorene crewmember, who wouldn't be allowed to leave 
until the station was activated.

Upon completion, a Prajna-class battle station could maintain a 
rotating staff of three thousand Gorene troops, along with fighter 
maintenance and refueling crews.

Prajna-7 was the latest development in Gorene battle station 
technology.  Stationed on the outskirts of the Ascalon Rift, it was six 
months away from completion.  At a width of five hundred meters, almost 
three times the size of a standard squadron base, the angular 
crystalline shape of Prajna-7 already had an imposing appearance.  Although it wasn't ready to 
defend itself against an all-out attack at close range, the fortress 
now had a moderate level of protection.  Smart mines formed an outer 
barrier around the station, able to distinguish between friendly and 
enemy spacecraft before deciding whether to attack.  The mines were 
supplemented by satellites equipped with defensive laser systems.  
Soon, the shield generators would be functioning to enhance the 
defensive capabilities of the fortress.

Admiral Adleman Shylo, the commanding officer of Prajna-7, was an 
elderly, battle-weary veteran of many Gorene campaigns.  One of the 
rare five-star admirals, Shylo was placed in command of the Ascalon 
Rift crusade out of respect for his accomplishments and his experience 
with alien races.  Because of his reputation for quick victories, 
morale among the troops always improved when Shylo visited the front 
lines.  Unable to understand why any civilization would not want to 
become part of the Gorene Empire, Shylo was firm in his convictions and 
willing to drive his point home through any alien battle fleet that 
stood in his way.

Shylo's first inspection tour of Prajna-7 had just been completed 
when Sector Commander Dithmar Ferrand boarded the admiral's flagship.  
Ferrand, recently charged with carrying out the tactical details of 
Shylo's plans with his front-line troops, was nervous about the 
meeting.  He knew Shylo was eager to conquer the Ascalon Rift, since 
the current feeling of cooperation among the rebellious locals could 
set a bad precedent for future expansion.  The conquest would be 
simplified with the completion of Prajna-7, but Ferrand knew Shylo did 
not want to wait that long.  This was a precarious opportunity that 
could make or break Ferrand's career.  If Ferrand could make shylo 
happy in the Ascalon Rift, his promotion to the rank of admiral was 
assured.

Ferrand stood at attention in the conference room of the flagship, 
waiting patiently for Shylo to acknowledge him.

Sweat was starting to drip down Ferrand's back, but shylo 
continued to stare out the observation window at the massive hulk of 
the battle station.

I had hoped we could avoid constructing such a base in this 
region.  Why are they so stubborn and blind, Commander FerrandV Shylo's 
voice startled him.Fear of change,Admiral Shylo.

We've encountered rebellion fueled by fear of change countless 
times in the history of the empire.  The Ascalon Rift is no different 
from Corgair, FleetsIt, or any of the others.  As these alien societies 
evolve under our rule, they'll come to understand our crusade." 
Prajna-7 has the power to destroy worlds, Commander.

I hope it's not put to use.  The Tancreds seem to be leading this 
rebellion, but what of the other races?

Ferrand cleared his throat.  shylo had the intelligence report, 
but apparently he hadn't read it yet.  He knew shylo wouldn't like the 
news.  There is a rumored alliance between all of the alien races in 
the Ascalon Rift.  The Tancreds, Mazumas, Zemuns,Amiens, and Nuubyans 
may join together and challenge us: Shylo turned and looked into 
Ferrand's eyes.  "Strange.

These races have been at odds for centuries.  Perhaps an alliance 
could aid us in the long run.  Even combined, they can't defeat us.  If 
they join together, they may overcome their differences and begin to 
accept the inevitability of change.

Ferrand couldn't help thinking that Admiral shylo was getting too 
old to be managing a war.  The probability of the Ascalon Rift races 
accepting Gorene rule with open arms was about as likely as Ferrand 
being declared emperor.

'In any case,shylo continued, we now have three bases of operation 
near the front.  Your assignment, Commander Ferrand, is to oversee the 
battle fleets that will occupy these bases.  The Tancreds scoffed at 
our latest gesture of peace.  We have no choice but to take military 
action against them.

Of course,Admiral: If the rebels are busy defending their planets, 
we can keep the location of Prajna-7 a secret.  This battle station 
must be completed on time and without interference.  I've reassigned 
the elite Gold Squadron to the Ascalon Rift to lead the battle.You'll 
meet their officers at the briefing later today.  Perhaps by facing the 
greatest pilots in the universe, the Tancreds will understand they 
cannot stop us: Or, Ferrand thought, he'd waste his best pilots in 
battle against superior numbers.  However, he knew they were the only 
way he could carry out shylo's orders with any chance of success.

When Roman returned to his room on the carrier, he found a note 
from Bitis Fulcher, his commanding officer.

The note was an order for Roman, in his new capacity as wing 
leader, to report to the shuttle for transit to Admiral Shylo's 
flagship.  A quick check of the time showed that he had four minutes to 
change clothes, since he hadn't returned to his room after the award 
ceremony and his visit with Hela.

Changing clothes took considerable effort and concentration, 
hampered as he was by his hangover.  He'd been looking forward to some 
rest in his own bunk.  He certainly didn't feel as if it was a good 
time to be meeting Admiral Shylo, but he had learned to expect this 
sort of thing in the military.  The thought of food to elevate his 
blood sugar came to mind, but his stomach recoiled at the notion and 
there wasn't any time.  With one minute remaining before he was due in 
the shuttle bay, he stumbled out into the corridor and ran right into 
Blois Fulcher.

I was wondering what happened to you,said Blois."Nobody seemed to 
know where you went after your little performance with Lawton after 
dinner.

A slight smile played across Blois's face.  He was a big man whose 
angry stare could stun rookie pilots, but Roman knew he had a good 
sense of humor.  When he started drinking, Blois often became the life 
of the party.  Over six and a half feet tall, Blois was bigger than 
Roman, and his height often intimidated people, whether he meant to or 
not.  Roman fondly remembered the week-long party they'd attended after 
graduating from flight school.  The inhabitants of Karoten Beta, who 
bore a strong resemblence to small animated squash, still spoke in awed 
whispers of the giant man who defeated their greatest warrior during a 
dnmken barroom brawl." Blois was certainly drunk at the time, but the 
brawl consisted of the featherweight squash warrior being knocked 
through a window after Blois stumbled into him.  This was how legends 
got started.

'I fell asleep in a closet,said Roman, realizing how odd that 
sounded as soon as it came out of his mouth.

Blois gave him a knowing wink as they headed to the shuttle 
bay."Well, that's your business, I suppose.  Did you manage to work out 
your differences with Lawton?" For now, but I'm not sure I'll trust him 
following me in a starfighter.

Blois snorted.No need to worry about that.  He may not be the 
brightest pilot in the squadron, but you can trust him to do his job.

Oh, I know he's a good pilot.  I just think he needs to un load some of the emotional baggage he's carrying around.

'Who doesn't?" Roman gave Blois a sharp look, wondering if he knew 
about Roman's relationship with Hela.  Maybe Blois knew about Lawton 
and Hela's past as well.  The tactical officer's poker face revealed 
nothing, so Roman changed the subject.

'Any tips for our meeting with Admiral Shylo?

'Try to keep your mouth shut; said Blois.  "Only speak when you're spoken to.  That's what I do.

'I'll remember that.

As they approached the shuttle bay door, Blois stopped and put his 
hand on Roman's shoulder.  WAnd one more thing.

Commander Ferrand will be at this meeting.  Whatever you do, don't 
make him angry.  Don't volunteer for anything.

Don't express your opinions.

Roman frowned.  "Why not?"

"Ferrand is an ambitious man.  So is Shylo.  They're a dangerous 
combination, and you don't want to get in their way: Aboard Admiral 
Shylo's flagship, the assembled group heard the words of war.  Roman 
stood in the back of Shylo's office beside Blois Fulcher.  Commander 
Ferrand stood in front of them, facing Shylo across the large 
holo-table that had just been switched on, creating dramatic shadows on 
the walls behind them.  Through the observation windows, they had an 
excellent view of the Prajna-7 battle station, impressive even though 
it was still six months away from being finished.  Having seen Prajna-7 
on his way to the flagship, Roman was now busy being impressed with 
Shylo's commanding presence.

The admiral gave the distinct impression that he knew everything 
about the enemy and their plans.

"Gentlemen," said Shylo, gesturing at the observation 
windows,"welcome to the Ascalon Rift.  Three years ago, we made our 
first contact with the alien races inhabiting this sector, but that 
contact has unfortunately led to hostility, not cooperation."

The snarling face of a tancred warrior, enlarged to a monstrous 
size, appeared above the holo-table.  As the face started to rotate, 
Roman decided that Shylo knew how to put on a show.

Shylo nodded at the hologram."The Tancreds are the most powerful, 
technically advanced race in the region.  They are considered barbaric 
by some, but their power is respected and feared.  Their entire 
civilization is organized for war.  They have been forced to defend 
their homeworld, Orentes, against attacks by the Zemuns over the last 
three centuries.

The ominous shape of a Tancred Samurai fighter replaced the 
snarling face.

"Tancred ships,Shylo continued,"are the most sophisticated in the 
region, and they have the best weapons.

They have rejected our presence and have started to attack our 
fleets.

The gray face of a Zemun appeared in place of the Tancred fighter, 
rotating with its mouth open, which appeared to be its normal state.  
Its ears were sunilar to large fins.

"The Zemuns are a race of religious zealots inhabiting the world 
Ma'arrat.  They worship the god Anjou and consider all nonbelievers to 
be enemies.  Their entire civilization is focused on serving their 
creator?

The angular shape of a Zemun Harbinger fighter took shape above 
the holo-table.  Its complex geometry looked quite sturdy to Roman.

"As is true of the Tancreds, the Zemuns have advanced weapons and 
space technology.  They have always been at odds with the Tancreds.  
Seven years ago, they launched a surprise attack on the Tancreds, and a 
bloody two-year war ensued.  The Zemuns were eventually repelled.  
Since then, there has been an uneasy peace between the two races.  The 
Zemuns consider us to be infidels and enemies?

Roman's face remained placid, but he was thinking the Zemuns had 
good sense to consider the Gorenes their enemies, considering that they 
were about to try and force the Gorene way on their culture.

A Nuubyan face, with a pair of tiny red eyes and enormous fangs 
projecting up from its lower jaw, appeared above the holo-table.  Roman 
thought of the demon stories that Gorene mothers used to frighten small 
children.  It was a useful image for this type of a briefing, since it 
helped to promote dislike of a race that looked too different from 
their own.  The Gorenes liked to think of themselves as cosmopolitan 
creatures of the universe, but Roman was starting to recognize certain 
racist attitudes for what they were.  Or perhaps he was being too 
harsh.  However, Shylo was using that foreboding tone of voice that 
Roman had been hearing more frequently; the tone of voice that said 
this new race must be either absorbed by the Gorenes or destroyed.

The Nuubyans of Anqah, on the fringes of the Ascalon Rift, were 
the first race we made contact with when we entered this region.  A 
primitive race, they were eager to acquire our advanced technology.  
But we were too impatient to make an ally in the area, and the Nuubyans 
proved too primitive to understand our ways?

Shylo shook his head as if he couldn't understand the Nuub-yan's 
thinking.  "We set up bases on Anqah and gave the Nuubyans the 
technology and weaponry they needed to defend themselves from attack by 
the Zemuns and Tancreds?

The hologram changed to show the night side of a planet with vast 
fires burning on the continents.

"The plan backfired,Shylo continued.  "A violent war erupted 
onAnqah--a war that led to the destruction of the Nuubyan world and 
most of its inhabitants.  Since then, there are Nuubyan refugees 
scattered throughout the Ascalon Rift.  They now call themselves Nomen 
from Nether-world, and they blame the Gorenes for their obliteration?

A slim, delicate head replaced the planet scene.  The face was 
smooth and almost featureless.

The Mazumas are chameleonlike shapeshifters,said Shylo, gesturing 
at the floating head.  The smooth face expanded and twisted into the 
head of an angry Tancred warrior.

They're also the most populous and wealthy race in the Ascalon 
Rift.  They control and inhabit Iour worlds--Hattin, Silpius, 
Leinengen, and Nish--which are lush, fertile, and full of natural 
resources?

The scene changed to show a large population center on the planet 
known as Nish.  The tall city buildings indicated an advanced 
technology.  On the outskirts of the city, jungle and farmland 
stretched to the horizon.

"The power of the Mazumas comes from their tremendous wealth and 
the sheer size of their population, which is six times greater than 
that of the Tancred race.

A Mazuma Buccaneer advanced-technology fighter appeared over the 
table.  Roman had never met one in combat, and he wasn't looking 
forward to it.

The Mazumas have a formidable army and space force, financed by 
profits generated from trading with the Tancreds and the Zemuns.

An Amien head replaced the Mazuma fighter.  In physical 
appearance, the Amiens were similar to Gorenes, except for their 
hairless, knobby skulls.

Finally, the Amiens.  Formerly a pacifistic race of extremely 
intelligent humanoids, they lived as isolationists on the planet 
Kayzeri, refusing to become an ally of either the Tancreds or Zemuns.

As Roman studied the Amien face, it seemed to watch him.  It was a 
disturbing image.

The advanced technology of the Amiens made them a potentially 
dangerous foe, so they were not provoked.  As long as they didn't seek 
to expand their power in the Ascalon Rift, the Tancreds and Zemuns were 
content to ignore them.  However, thirty years ago, a deadly plague 
struck Kayzeri and threatened the entire race.  A bizarre antidote--a 
genetically altered bacteria colony--was developed and injected into 
the bodies of the Amiens.  This bacteria is now essential to keeping 
the Amiens alive, but over the course of the last twenty-eight years 
the bacteria has evolved and gained an intelligence of its own.

Roman glanced sideways at Blois, who showed no expression.

The idea of an intelligent bacterial invader was repellent to 
Roman as well.  Gorene bodies also needed common bacteria to survive, 
but no one liked to think about it.

In the closed environment of a military base or a carrier, the 
troops received constant medical screening to keep potentially 
dangerous vital infections at bay.  Perhaps the Amiens could be cured 
by advanced Gorene medicine.

Admiral Shylo had stopped speaking.  As Roman turned his eyes back 
toward the holo-table, he saw Shylo frowning at him.  Shylo cleared his 
throat and continued.  The sentient bacteria is more aggressive than 
the nature of its pacifistic host, which leads to great inner conflict 
and even schizophrenia.

Although the bacteria's main purpose is to protect the host, our 
researchers predict that the inner conflict will eventually drive the 
race to complete madness.

A star map showing the worlds controlled by the races of the 
Ascalon Rift appeared over the holo-table, highlighted in different 
colors to show the domains of the Tancreds, Zemuns, Nuubyans,Amiens, 
and Mazumas.

'There are many rumors that the Ascalon Rift races will join 
forces in an attempt to drive us out.  If that happens, we could have 
one of the most severe challenges ever to face the Gorene Empire.  You 
have been called here to force a surrender.

Or die trying, thought Roman.  Still, he was the wing leader for 
his squadron now, so it was possible he could make a difference in this 
campaign.  A few quick strikes might show their opponents that the 
Gorenes weren't fooling around, forcing them to a quick peace.  These 
races seemed advanced enough to have knowledge of value to the Gorenes, 
so their cultures might not be as easily crushed as the Cee' Haarra 
civilization.  There might be an even exchange of information with 
these races that the Gorene settlement teams would respect and want to 
nurture.

A bright yellow spot appeared on the starmap to indicate the 
position of Prajna-7.  It was far from the inhabited planets, but close 
enough to act as a fleet base.

"When Prajna-7 is completed, we will have the power to take the 
region by force, but our desire is to avoid such massive bloodshed.  If 
we can weaken and destroy the rebellion now, we can accomplish our 
mission and save millions of lives.  If worse comes to worst, Prajna-7 
will be fully operational in six months.

However,said Shylo, looking at each of them in turn,I want this 
conflict resolved in three.  That's why I've assembled the cream of the 
most fearsome fighters in the universe.

I hope I will not be disappointed.

I hope I'll be alive in three months, thought Roman.

You will report to ar-1, which is one of our three bases of 
operation in the Ascalon Rift.  Sector Commander Dithnmr Ferrand will 
give the orders when you've arrived.  Three months, gentlemen.  I want 
this conflict resolved in three months."

Shylo gave them each a look of warning.  If they failed, he would 
be unhappy.  If he was unhappy, there would be dire consequences.  
Don't make him unhappy.

You are dismissed," Shylo said, ending the meeting as quickly as 
it had begun.

CHAPTER 4 ASCALON RIFT,SECTOR V--XERIDLTN

The Alliance prison world of Xeridun was the Ascalon Rift version 
of hell.  Home to the condemned insane and the most dangerous convicted 
criminals from the Allied planets, Xeridun did not discriminate on the 
basis of race or religion.

Criminals who defied the Law were sentenced to the prison world, 
where they would live out the short remaining spans of their lives.  
From the time of arrival, the average life expectancy was two years.  
Guarded by an outer barrier of Mazuma patrol ships, the planet was also 
ringed with orbital satellites that generated a containment force 
field.  The force field kept objects from leaving the planet's 
atmosphere, preventing prisoner escapes.

Known to be a cesspool of immorality and anarchy, Xeridun's 
reputation was strong enough for Tancred parents to threaten their 
misbehaving children with a visit to the prison world.  Tancred 
children were ruthless enough to kill for sport, so it was impressive 
that such a threat would curb their aggressive tendencies.

The leaders of the Alliance had never physically been in the same 
room before.  Their decision to meet on the prison world of Xeridun was 
a startling show of diplomacy among races who had been enemies for so 
long.  Now they found themselves floating in the weightless antigravity 
environment of the Exercise Room, designed to allow prisoners physical 
movement while keeping them off-balance and defenseless.

Walls of deep black glass over a stained gray stone floor gave the 
enormous room a feeling of infinite space.

Light was provided by glow panels inset in the floor, giving the 
dignified leaders the shadowy appearance of monsters lit from beneath.  
Breathing masks covered their faces, modifying the toxic Xeridun 
atmosphere to suit each of their optimal physical requirements.  The 
atmospheric gases were scrubbed by active filters before being allowed 
into Xeridun structures, but the system wasn't perfect.  Prisoners were 
forced to breathe the toxic fumes without the luxury of breathing 
masks, further shortening their lives on the prison world.

Tancred Overlord zemlock was anxious about attending the secret 
meeting on Xeridun, assuming it was some form of Zemun trick.  The 
presence of the other leaders was reassuring, but a conspiracy could 
not be ruled out until he knew more about their plans.  In any case, he 
knew it was undignified to be floating around the room, and he blamed 
the Zemun leader, Longmoor, for that.  There was no particular reason 
for laying blame, but the Tancred felt the Zemun deserved abuse 
whenever possible."Why must we have this weightless condition inflicted 
on us!  We are not criminals.

Krugahad Longmoor, High Father of the Zemun people

· and Right Hand of Anjou, returned Zemlock's icy glare with a 
steady gaze.  He had always wondered if the five-year peace between the 
Zemuns and the infidel Tancreds had been a mistake."No, we are not 
criminals, Overlord Zemlock.  Neither are we friends.  In this room, we 
are all equals despite our physical differences.  None of us has an 
advantage.  We meet on equal ground."

Zemlock snorted.  "Equal ground on a prison planet guarded by 
Mazuma patrol ships!"

The Mazumas have the patrol responsibility during this time phase; 
Longmoor said with a sigh."Would you have us wait until the Tancred 
patrol returns?  By that time, the Gorenes could have landed on Orentes 
while we squabble over protocol."

"My homeworld will not fall to the Gorenes; Zemlock rumbled.  His 
withering look seemed to have no effect on Longmoor.

WAnd I would rather be dead than see the Zemun people, and the 
rest of the Ascalon Rift, under the influence of the Gorene infidels.  
That is whyAnjou has led us here today.

Your god Anjou does not lead the Tancreds.  The Tancreds lead the 
Tancreds:

As you say, Overlord Zemlock:

Zemlock wasn't sure if he'd won the conversational battle or not.  
Longmoor was a tricky one.  Zemlock had always wondered if the uneasy 
peace between the Tancreds and the religious zealots had been a wise 
decision.

I welcome all of you to this first meeting of the Alliance," said Longmoor, addressing the others in the room.

Zemlock frowned."Who made you the leader?"

"Let him speak, zemlock.  I tire of your antics," said Mazuma 
President Phena Warratie.

Thaga Sa, the Nomen representative of the former Nuubyan race, 
screamed at the top of his lungs, startling all of them.  Then he fell 
into silence again, watching the group with his glowing red eyes.

zemlock shook his head.  His ears were ringing.  "Who invited that 
thing?"

The Nomen are part of the Alliance,said Longmoor.

"Thaga Sa speaks for his people?

"You call that speaking?"

"Thaga Sa, I am.  Nuubyan not.  Nomen am.  No home.

Family not?Thaga Sa ended his speech with a long hiss.

What?  Zemlock scratched his head.

Prime Founder Nebity Zaxalt, leader of the Amien people, shook his 
fist at Zemlock."His world was destroyed by the Gorenes.  He has as 
much right to be here as the rest of us.

"Point taken.  I apologize, Thaga Sa.  You can't help it if your 
Nuubyan people are too barbaric to defend their homeworld."

'Thaga Sa, I am!  Nuubyan not!  Nomen am!'

Zemlock rolled his eyes."So you said?

"Enough,said Zaxalt.  He looked at Longmoor.  Must we keep this 
Tancred in the same room with us?  He has nothing constructive to say.  
You, of us all, should agree with me."

"Nothing constructive?  I am offended, Zaxalt.  Your words hurt me 
deeply.  Zemlock looked up at the ceiling.

Longmoor held up his hand for silence.  "We must all come to an 
agreement here.  The Gorenes are the threat.  We must.work together to 
have any chance of repelling these invaders.  If we attack one another, 
we are only helping the Gorenes take the Ascalon Rift.

"The Tancreds don't need your help,said Zemlock."We can save the 
Ascalon Rift by ourselves, if we choose to do so.

"Without Mazuma resources," said Phena Warratie,"the Tancreds 
could never survive a full-scale war with the Gorenes.

Bah!  The Gorenes are weak creatures!  Their flabby bodies are too 
fragile to sustain a war against mighty Tan-cred warriors.

Warratie gave zemlock a thin smile."These weak creatures you're 
talking about have a civilization that has survived for thousands of 
years.  Their empire continues to expand, much as a blormfish bloats in 
its groombling season.

The Gorenes will not be stopped without a combined effort between 
all of our races.

"And the Gorenes may have fragile bodies, but their starfighters 
are fearsome weaponst Zaxalt added."We know this from the ships the 
Gorenes gave the Nuubyans before this war started.

Thaga Sa shook his fists."Thaga Sa, I am!  Nuubyan not!

Nomen am!"

"Yes, yes,Zaxalt said, waving impatiently at Thaga $a.

"Nomen, not Nuubyan.  Sorry." I disagree; said Zemlock."The 
fighters are only as good as their pilots.  A sturdy Tancred warrior 
has already destroyed a Gorene scout:

'Gorene not?"Thaga Sa asked.

I have a little demonstration; Zemlock said, awkwardly turning his 
body toward the distant doors.Guards!  Present the prisoner!"

Two Tancred guards floated into the room towing a captured Gorene 
pilot between them.  The identiplate on the pilot's uniform showed that 
his name was Bowman.  The guards wore breathing masks, but Jharek 
Bowman did not.

The guards awkwardly tried to move farther into the room, then one 
of them kicked off from the wall, pulling the others along with him 
toward the assembled leaders.

The Gorene uniform was torn in many places.  Jharek's face was cut 
and swollen, his hair was matted, he was having trouble breathing the 
toxic atmosphere, and he seemed only half-conscious as he floated along 
with the guards.

"Gentlemen, we have a guest; Zemlock said, grandly gesturing at 
the approaching Gorene.

Thaga Sa hissed when he saw the Gorene uniform.  The other leaders 
watched in silence.  The guards, busy trying to figure out how to stop 
their forward motion, continued floating straight into zemlock.

"Idiots!  In the old days, you could have been killed for that!"

The guards apologized profusely as zemlock tried to regain his 
composure.  The impact had sent him tumbling, but he arrested his 
motion as he bounced off the floor.  Then he saw an opportunity.

"I'll demonstrate how weak they are!" Zemlock yelled as his head 
slammed into Jharek's midsection.  Jharek grunted and hunched over, 
grasping his stomach.  Zemlock smiled at the other leaders as he held 
onto the Gorene's shoulder.

Zaxalt frowned."Now that I see one up close, I may agree with you, 
Zemlock."

An Amien agrees with a Tancred?  There is hope for this alliance 
after all," said Zemlock, swinging his arm around to hold Jharek as he 
punched him in the face.  Jharek's head recoiled, then Zemlock released 
him to float nearby.  Red droplets floated out of his broken nose.

Not wanting to be left out,Thaga Sa launched himself at Jharek and 
kicked him in the head.  Jharek jerked and started tumbling in a cloud 
of red droplets."Thaga Sa, I am!

Gorene not!"

Zemlock could see that the mood in the room had changed.  The 
captive had focused their thoughts on the important issues, leading 
them toward agreement on the approach to the Gorene problem.  He was 
pleased.  Warlord Klool, his ambitious assistant, had tried to tell 
Zemlock that torturing the Gorene prisoner was a bad idea, and that he 
shouldn't parade the prisoner in front of the other leaders at the 
meeting on Xeridun.  Events had now proven that Klool was a fool.

As Thaga Sa started after Jharek again, Longmoor politely stopped 
him.  "Not now, Thaga Sa.  There will be other chances to fight the 
Gorenes: Thaga Sa gave Longmoor a puzzled look, then nodded and 
relaxed.  He glanced at Jharek again, clearly wishing he could spend 
some quality time alone with the Gorene.

'My main concern is to protect Hattin and the other worlds of the 
Mazumas,Warratie said."But we need help to do that.  We will cooperate 
with any agreement this group may execute.

Zemlock motioned to the Tancred guards, who used swimming motions 
to work their way over to Jharek and haul him away toward the exit.

'The Gorenes are a plague on the Ascalon Rift,' said Zaxalt."They 
must be destroyed before they get any further7 We agree on that much,said Zemlock."The question is, how much help 
will the Tancreds receive in fighting this enemy?" Longmoor, the Zemun 
leader, frowned.  "You seem to think that the Tancreds will be fighting 
this war alone, Overlord zemlock.  With Anjou's help, the Zemuns will 
also stop the Gorenes.  We will use our mighty space fleet to create an 
impenetrable barrier through which the Gorenes cannot cross." 'As I 
said before; grumbled Zemlock,"the Tancreds need no help ,from the 
Zemuns.

'I'm sure you'll have a different attitude when the Gorenes move 
into your homes,said Longmoor.

Zaxalt cleared his throat."Gentlemen, please!  This mind less bickering won't accomplish anything!'

'It's not mindless; said Zemlock.

'My suggestion," said Warratie,is that we interrogate our Gorene 
prisoner.  He may have information we can use." 'Our prisoner,said 
Zemlock, "who was captured by the Tancreds, I might add, is already 
being interrogated by experts2 Warratie looked doubtful."These interrogators Of yours, do they 
have the skill to question the prisoner without killing him "Of 
course,said Zemlock, as he gave Longmoor a si§nifi-cant look."They had 
practice on the Zemuns?

Two weeks into the war, the Gorene Gold Squadron based atAR-1 had 
flown several successful strikes against robot-driven transport ships 
and supply vessels.  Fighter escorts had been minimal, allowing them 
easy access to their targets.

As Prajna-7 was being constructed, the Ascalon Rift allies were 
gearing up for an extended war.  During this preparation phase, the 
Gorenes were attempting to cut supply lines, weaken defenses, and 
demonstrate strategic superiority to the Alliance.  There had been few 
Gorene casualties, but the capture of a Gorene scout named Jharek 
Bowman had disturbed many of the pilots.  Rumors of horrible Tancred 
interrogation techniques were among the most popular topics of 
discussion on the base.

Wishing he could stop and take a shower, Roman Alexandria left the 
hangar deck and started toward the mission briefing that would be held 
on the other side of the base.

 His boot heels clicked on the deck plates as he walked.  He 
inhaled the familiar smell of sweat and burnt oil, which hung in the 
air despite constant filtering.  Usually, he only detected the smell 
for the first ten minutes after he returned from a mission.  First-time 
visitors to military bases often commented on the distinct odor, which 
seemed to be everywhere, but the people who lived there rarely noticed 
it.

The claustrophobic passageways were low and narrow, much like a 
rabbit warren with tunnels going off in all directions.

Military personnel who were new to bases such as ar-1 found the 
unfamiliar architecture disconcerting.  The intersection signs pointed 
the way to zones coded with incomprehensible numbers and letters.  On 
rare occasions, words such as Vulture Deck" would show up on a sign, 
but that meant nothing to the uninitiated.  Roman was following a blue 
stripe that led to the command levels of the base, but even he wasn't 
sure where many of the other rainbow stripes would lead.  He had heard 
that the obscure signs and color coding were designed to mislead any 
attackers who might manage to successfully penetrate the interior of 
the base.  It was an unfortunate side effect of this clever scheme that 
it confused the Gorenes as well.

As Roman entered the briefing room and walked toward the front, he 
scanned the faces of the pilots.  Overall, their morale had been good, 
but Roman noticed that some of the pilots were showing signs of stress.  

Additionally, Hela was grumbling more than usual.  Roman maintained 
his usual positive attitude in public, which infected many of the 
pilots attached to his wing, but Lawton continued to carry a grudge.

Whenever he had the opportunity, Lawton had been telling Blois 
Fulcher about Roman's unorthodox behavior during missions.  Apparently 
it hadn't occurred to Lawton that Blois was not only Roman's superior 
officer but his friend, so Roman was informed of each of Lawton's 
complaints.

Blois had two holo-projectors displaying target information on 
each side of him.  On the wall above and behind Blois, the glittering 
eyes of the great warbird looked down on them, its wings spread as if 
it would swoop down and kill them if they made any wrong moves.  Roman 
sat down near the front.

Blois smiled and waited for the group's attention before he 
started."Intelligence reports that the Mazumas are furious over our 
attack on the freighters full of Tancred fighters.

They were not paid for the Tancred shipments, so they've lost a 
fortune.  The Tancreds have sworn vengeance on us for the loss.

Blois looked around the room with a smug expression.

'In addition, our recon ships checked out the debris field where 
the freighters were destroyed, and they made a surprising discovery.

Coranlne," said Roman.

That's right," said Blois."How did you know?"

I didn't, but there was a big explosion when I blew up two of the 
freighters.  It didn't make sense until now.

Very good; said Blois.  He looked around at the other pilots.

"Alliance ships need coranine for hyperjumping, just as we do.  
The Mazumas have a refinery that processes coranine in orbit around the 
planet Hattin.  If we can destroy it, every alien race in the Ascalon 
Rift would feel the effects of the shortage.  I'm sure the Mazumas have 
cornered the market on coranine just as they have on everything else 
here.

Blois turned to Hela Selrase, seated two chairs away from 
Roman.Commander Ferrand has ordered two strike groups into combat at 
the same time.  $elrase, I want you to fly a Scorpion to defend the 
Liberator that Pilot Brool will be flying.

Your objective is to destroy the patrol ships so that Brool will 
have a clear shot at the refinery.

Kayla Brool held up her hand."Do we have any idea how many patrol 
ships will be in the region?"

"We feel confident that our recon group near Hattin was not 
detected;' said Blois."Your strike group should have the element of 
surprise.  There will only be two of you, since we can't send a full 
squadron that far into enemy territory."

Blois indicated the Tancred frigate near an orange planet in the 
holo-projection to his left."Commander Ferrand has also given us our 
second mission, which he calls Operation Peace Through Force.  It's 
time to make a gesture of peace to the Tancreds.  A Tancred frigate 
known as the Kuntow is traveling through the region of space between 
the Mazuma and Tancred borders.  It's guarded by at least eight armed 
escorts.

Due to our efforts, the Alliance is starting to learn that they 
should tie up some of their fighters by escorting freighters.

There was scattered laughter around the room.  Roman was pleased 
to hear it, along with the news that they were going to make a peace 
offering.

"Alexandria, Lawton, Helmar, and Dept, you are ordered to destroy 
the escorts, but under no circumstances will you attack the Kuntow.  I 
repeat, you will not attack the frigate.

Wing leader Alexandria is instructed to establish communication 
with the captain of the frigate and convey the honorable intentions of 
the Gor/me Empire to him.  We hope that the captain will relay the 
message to the Tancred leaders on Orerites.  It should be obvious to 
the captain that we have the ability to destroy his ship, but we are 
opting to reason with him instead."

Still drowsy from her short nap, Pilot Helmar brushed the blonde 
hair back out of her eyes and held up her hand.  Is there any chance 
that the Kuntow could be armed?

Blois shook his head.  No.  It's strictly a cargo carrier.

Roman waved to get Blois's attention.  "How should I phrase my 
communication, sir?

Commander Ferrand wants you to take a firm approach with the 
Tancred captain,said Blois."However, you should be sure to convey that 
our goal is peaceful coexistence in the region."

"Peaceful coexistence, as long as it's on our terms,said Hela.

Blois glanced in her direction, then ignored her.

ASCALON RIFt.-.SECTOR II.--KUNTOW

As it turned out, there were eight Tancred fighter escorts around 
the frigate Kuntow.  Roman destroyed three of them, and Lawton got two.  

Roman was pleased to see the performance of the younger pilots, Helmar 
and Dept, who worked together to eliminate the other three fighters.  
They were learning that the Tancreds preferred to split off into single 
fighter dogfights whenever they could.

The comlink beeped, and Roman heard a familiar female voice.  
"Helmar to wing leader.  All escorts have been destroyed.

It's showtime, sir."

"Thanks for the assistance, Helmar.  Now, I want the three of you 
to pull back and give the Kuntow some breathing room.

Roman switched his radio from the tactical frequencies to the 
unscrambled hailing frequency favored by the Alliance merchant 
fleet."Captain of the Kuntow, this is wing leader Roman Alexandria of 
the Gorene Gold Squadron.  Please identify yourself: A grizzled 
oldTancred face formed on the communications monitor.  "I am Captain 
Tawl Shud of the Tancred frigate Kuntow.  I will die before I surrender 
to you.  Fire if you must, but know that I die with my Tancred honor 
and dignity: Roman nodded with respect.  "You are brave, like all 
Tancred warriors, Captain Shud.  I do not request your surrender.

I have come to communicate with you in peace.  I speak on behalf 
of the Gorene Empire."

Shud made a sour face."Do not toy with me, Gorene.  My resolve 
will not break under your threats.  Destroy my ship if you must, and be 
on your way: "I can see you don't understand," Roman said."Our goal is 
to live in peaceful coexistance with the Tancreds and all the races of 
the Ascalon Rift.  We are here to help the civilizations in this 
region, not to fight a bloody war with them.  We offer our assistance, 
wisdom, and friendship."

Shud snorted."And you attack unarmed Tancred freighters without 
provocation.  Even our robot freighters are not safe with you Gorenes 
around.  Kill us and be done with it, wing leader Roman Alexandria of 
the Gorene Gold Squadron.

My crew and I are ready to die.

"We have the power to conquer this region through force, but 
bloodshed is not the answer.  I ask you to speak to the Tancred leaders 
and tell them of my message.  Yes, we have used force.  We will use 
force if we must, but that is not our intention.  We want to forge new 
alliances that will revitalize the entire Ascalon Rift.  Accept our 
presence and let us enlighten you.

"Oh, so you want oldTawl Shud to pop over and speak with the 
Overlord?  I know he'll be pleased to hear from me, since he so often 
requests the counsel of freighter captains."

Roman wondered if the translator system was working properly on 
his ship.  Shud didn't seem to understand what Roman was saying, and 
there seemed to be some odd word translations from the Tancred 
language.  Roman was sure that the old captain couldn't be as snide as 
he sounded through the translator.

"Captain Shud, I respect your brave tone.  We do not wish to 
destroy your ship.  I bring you this message as an emissary of peace 
for my people.  Please take my message to your homeworld and let them 
know that peace with the Gorene Empire is possible if they will give us 
that chance.

Shud was silent for a moment.  Although Roman wasn't clear on 
Tancred facial expressions, Shud's face seemed to reflect puzzlement 
and, perhaps, acceptance of the possibility."The Tancreds despise the 
Gorene presence in this region.

You are enemies and trespassers.  But you speak with an air of 
wisdom.  You could destroy my ship, but instead you speak of peace.  I 
believe Overlord Zemlock, our leader, may wish to hear your words.  
When asked, I will tell those who question me that you acted with 
honor: Roman smiled.  Shud recoiled when he saw Roman's expression."Why 
do you bare your teeth at me, Gorene?  Will you attack me now that I 
have shown signs of weakness?"

Roman quickly switched to a more neutral expression.

"I give you my word that you will return to Orentes in safety, 
Captain Shud.  There will be no further attacks against your vessel."

Shud nodded, then slammed his fist into his chest with a loud 
thump.  "Perhaps we will meet again, wing leader Roman Alexandria of 
the Gorene Gold Squadron."

"Perhaps we shall, Captain Shud.  Good journey to you.

Roman gently turned his fighter to face the other three Gorenes 
waiting in the distance.  "Mission accomplished, gentlemen.  Let's 
return to base.

The holographic projection of Sector Commander Dithmar Ferrand 
flickered briefly, but that was the only way Blois Fulcher could tell 
that it wasn't the real Ferrand standing in his office on ar-1.  Before 
Ferrand could ask, Blois gave him the news they were anxious to hear 
back on Prajna-7.  Roman had already transmitted his report to Blois.

"The mission was a success, Commander Ferrand.  Wing leader 
Alexandria and his group are on their way back to ar-1.There were no 
Gorene casualties."

Blois thought it was odd that Ferrand did not look pleased.  If 
anything, he looked annoyed, as if he'd eaten something particularly 
unpleasant for lunch.

"Your new orders are to launch a strike group immediately.

They will proceed to the Kuntow at full speed and destroy it."

Blois gasped in disbelief."Attack the Kuntow?  You can't be 
serious.  Alexandria gave Captain Shud his word that he wouldn't be 
attacked.  How can our mission be peaceful coexistance if we fire on a 
defenseless frigate?"

Ferrand snorted."We have received new information.  We were now 
aware that the Kuntow was carrying armaments to Orentes?

"The Kuntow is carrying food, Commander Ferrand, not weapons."

Don't be naive, Blois.  That frigate is loaded with weapons.

Weapons that are going to be used against us."

"But that isn't possible.  Our tactical scans verified the 
presence of food in the frigate's hold."

Your tactical scans are obviously wrong!  Besides, the time to 
negotiate is over!  We must use force!  The Tancreds need to be shown 
that we are stronger than they are.  Destroying the Kuntow will teach 
them that lesson.

"Admiral Shylo won't agree; said Blois, shaking his head.

"Destroying this cargo ship now, after we've promised to spare it, 
doesn't teach them anything."

Ferrand's eyes flashed."How dare you?  You face a court martial if 
you defy my orders.  I am your superior officer.

Remember that.  Now, assemble a strike group and give orders to 
destroy the Kuntow: The hologram faded.  Left alone in his office, 
Blois sighed heavily and put his head down on the desk.

CHAPTER 5 ASCALON RIFT4ECTOR IV--HATTIN

Hela Selrase was tight on the Liberator's tail, following Kayla 
Brool straight in to the orbiting coranine refinery.  The Mazuma planet 
Hattin dominated their view, with the blues and greens of its globe 
wrapped in a spotty layer of white clouds.  Against that backdrop, the 
black refinery seemed like an orbiting blemish from a prehistoric 
industrial age.

The massive structure accepted robot freighter deliveries of raw 
coranine ore at one end, passed them through the smelting and 
processing system, then delivered the shiny refined crystals to the 
loading bay for shipment throughout the Ascalon Rift.  The Alliance 
depended on the refinery's considerable output to power the Singularity 
Field Generators aboard their spacecraft, allowing them to travel the 
vast distances only available because of hyperjump technology.

"We're clear on the approach," said Hela.  "We'd better make this 
quick before the Mazuma patrols realize we're here."

Brool snorted."Let them come.  I can handle them.  This has been a 
boring flight anyway."

"You'd rather have them shooting at us?"

"I'd rather not be bored.  After a long flight, I want some 
action."

Hela had never been able to understand Brool's attitude, and she 
wasn't about to start now.  It was hard to hide the disgust in her 
voice.  "Another day, another kill, right?" "What's wrong with that?" 
Brool sounded genuinely puzzled.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Don't try and tell me you don't like to kill, Selrase.  That's 
why we're fighter pilots."

"Maybe that's why you're a pilot; Hela sighed as she glanced at 
her tactical display.  "Lock and load.  Target in three."

The refinery loomed ahead, filling the sky with its imposing bulk.

"Fox one, two, three, four away,said Brool, sending her warheads 
streaking toward the processing and power facility at the core of the 
refinery.  She started her turn immediately after the launch.

Staying with Brool, Hela turned the fighter sharply and punched in 
the afterburner.  They needed to get some serious distance between 
themselves and the refinery before the missiles created a new star out 
of the refinery's fusion reactor.

Despite their speed, both of their ships shook as the shock wave 
from the refinery explosion raced away from the impact point.  Hela saw 
the bright flash in her rearview, then glanced away so as not to be 
blinded.  She scanned her tactical display, expecting to see Mazuma 
patrol ships, but no threats appeared.

One more look in the rearview confirmed the destruction of the 
coranine refinery.  Huge sections that had not been vaporized in the 
blast were now tumbling away majestically, creating both a hazard for 
the local space lanes and a warning to the Alliance.

ASCALON RIFT--SECTOR IlmAR-1 After Roman landed at ar-1, it seemed as if people were avoiding 
his gaze.  Hela and Brool hadn't returned from the coranine mission 
yet, and Roman noted that there were many more fighters missing as 
well.  He assumed that patrols had been increased due to all their 
recent activity with the Kuntow and the coranine refinery.

Leaving Lawton and the other two pilots at the landing bay, Roman 
went off in search of Blois Fulcher.  Roman's boot heels clicked on the 
deck plates as he walked.  He was surprised that Blois had not been 
waiting for him when he landed, but Roman knew he'd find his superior.  
Two more pilots passed Roman, but they didn't return his greeting.

When he spotted Horus Klep coming toward him in the hallway, he 
blocked the smaller man's path so that he wouldn't be ignored.  Horus 
was sporting a new black eye, evidence that drunken fights were on the 
upswing at the base.

"Horus, old pal."

'Hi, Roman," said Horus, trying to pass.

'What's going on around here?  No one wants to talk to me?

"They're just uncomfortable,' said Horus, looking at the floor.

"Uncomfortable.  Why?"

"You know.

"No, apparently I don't.  I've been out on a mission; said Roman.  
Then an alarm went off in the back of his head.

'Hela?  IS she okay?"

Horus looked up at Roman, puzzled."Yeah, sure.  Selrase and Brool 
are on their way back now.  They smoked the refinery no problem.

"Then what's wrong?"

You really haven't heard?  It's the Kuntow:

"What about it?  I was just there.

Uh, you better talk to Blois." Horus tried to slide past, but Roman blocked his path again.

Where is he?" "In his office.  He's been there ever since he 
issued the new orders to destroy the Kuntow:

Roman gasped, then he pushed Horus aside and sprinted away.

Roman burst into Blois's office without knocking.  Blois had 
dimmed the lights; he was seated behind the desk, facing the window and 
looking out at the stars.

"What's going on?  I gave Shud my word there would be no attack, 
and you issue orders to destroy the Kuntow.  Are you mad?" "Calm down, 
Roman.  Ferrand gave the order.  I had no choice but to follow it.

Roman stopped in front of the desk, but Blois continued staring 
out at the stars, his hands folded in his lap.

We're not cold-blooded killers, Blois.  I thought we wanted to put 
down the resistance, not stoke it up.  You've made me look like a liar 
in front of the squadron, in front of the Tancreds.

Blois sighed heavily and rotated his chair to face Roman.

Ferrand had reliable information that there were weapons aboard 
the Kuntow.

"I was there, Blois!  The tactical scans showed only food on that 
freighter!  You preach to us about peaceful coexistence and then you do 
this!  They believe our offer of peace and then we destroy them.  It's 
wrong!  Ferrand has made us look' like murderers!

like yourself, I follow the orders of my superior officer.

The destruction of the Kuntow was Commander Ferrand's order.  
Perhaps he had a deeper understanding of the situation than we did.  
Perhaps he didn't.  I can't really say for sure.

Roman looked at Blois in disbelief."But you didn't give your word 
to a now-dead Tancred freighter captain: I will remind you that this is 
not a democratic military unity said Blois, glaring at Roman.  aWe do 
not take votes as to which orders we will follow each day.  We are only 
given the information we need to accomplish our individual tasks.

That's why decisions are made at a higher level by those who have 
all the facts.  We may not like the orders, and we may have our private 
opinions about the orders, but they must be obeyed.  We have no choice 
in the matter.

"There's always a choice; said Roman quietly.

True, but the choice to go against your orders will have dire 
consequences.  Let's be patient and see where Commander Ferrand leads 
us.

To our doom, would be my guess:

Blois's voice was cold."We're friends, Roman, but don't push me 
too far.  You are dismissed:

Roman turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

Roman lay in his narrow bunk staring at the darkened glow panel in 
the ceiling.  After the luxury of the sleeping plates on the carrier, 
which created a neutral antigravity suspension field, it was hard 
getting used to sleeping on a bunk again.  He would get sore from 
sleeping in one position too long, and then toss and turn all night.  
Between the sleeping plates, he never had to move--he could feel 
refreshed after only a few hours of sleep.  The addition of three other 
pilots to the same cabin, all of whom snored on full afterburner, did 
not help.  But tonight he probably wouldn't get to sleep anyway--he 
felt guilty about Captain Shud, he was angry at Commander Ferrand, and 
he needed Hela.  Since his continued survival depended on fast reflexes 
and alertness, fatigue could get him killed.

Roman massaged his forehead with his fingers.  Doubting Gorene 
motives always gave him a headache.  How many would have to die before 
the Ascalon Rift races gave in and allowed the Gorenes to "liberate 
them?  What could Commander Ferrand possibly have been thinking in 
ordering the destruction of a food ship?  What kind of an unbalanced 
mind would send Roman out on a peace mission, then order the death of 
the messenger who would have taken their peace offering back to the 
Tancreds?  Roman sighed heavily, wishing Hela was there so he could 
discuss his thoughts with her.  She would understand.

As if sensing his need for her, Hela padded softly into Roman's 
cabin on her bare feet.  At least, Roman assumed the only woman who 
would sneak into his cabin and remove her robe would be Hela.  The 
overhead glow panels were off, so all he could see was her dark 
silhouette.  Roman didn't speak, fearing to wake up the other men.  If 
they turned on the lights and caught Hela standing there naked, that 
would surely throw a cold towel on everything.

Hela knelt beside the bed, felt for his face,and kissed Roman 
softly on the lips.  Her scent filled his nostrils, and he thought 
briefly how much nicer women smelled than men.

There was something new about her scent that caught his attention 
for a moment, but the thought quickly vanished as she pulled the 
blanket down below his knees and her fingers began dancing over his 
body, rubbing and caressing his skin.  He reached out with his right 
hand and touched her back, causing a shudder to run through her body.  
She bent down, kissing him all over, her tongue darting in and out.

Her creativity was one of the many things Roman admired about 
Hela--she was always coming up with new tricks.

Then she climbed on top of him, her body flowing in one graceful 
motion, and his anxious thoughts about his problems disappeared like 
forgotten dreams.

Roman awoke thinking of Hela.  She had vanished during the night, 
making sure that no one caught the two of them together in his bunk.  
She had never said a word, but they had communicated.  In any case, he 
had slept very well.

As the squadron filed into the briefing room, Roman managed to 
walk up behind Hela and subtly give her arm a squeeze.  She turned, a 
little.surprised, and then smiled.

I just wanted to thank you for last night; Roman whispered."I 
haven't slept that well in a long time.

Hela raised an eyebrow.  "Uh, you're welcome, Roman.

What are you talking about, exactly?

"You know.  Last night.  You and me?

Hela stared at him blankly."You must have been dreaming.

Was she serious?  It was certainly no dream, and it had to have 
been her.  Of course, the lights had been off, but no, no, it was her, 
it had to have been.  He knew what Hela felt like in bed.

'I think you've gone over the edge, Roman.  Too much stress.  I 
know it's been difficult for you lately, but you have to try and get 
more rest.  I know I was completely exhausted after my mission last 
night said Hela, sitting down in the front row.

Puzzled, Roman sat down behind her.  Kayla Brool walked past, 
smiled at Roman, and sat down beside Hela without acknowledging her 
presence.

Hela briefly turned to whisper to Roman."You know, I never liked 
Brool.  She doesn't even have the decency to greet me properly.

Roman gave Hela a nervous smile before she turned forward again."I 
know what you mean.

Roman frowned.  Brool?  Was it possible?  No.  Brool was popularly 
known as the Ice Queen.  No man in the squadron had ever managed to 
interest her, as far as anybody knew.  Of course, romantic involvements 
were discouraged, so she may have been sleeping with several people in 
secret.  She was a brilliant pilot and had managed the second highest 
test scores in her flight class, beaten only by Hela.  As a result, she 
intimidated many of the younger male pilots.  She was attractive, and 
pleasant enough, but she had never shown the slightest romantic 
interest in Roman.  No, the smile had just been a smile, nothing more.

He finally decided that the whole subject was beyond him, so he 
stopped thinking about it.

Blois entered the briefing room and turned when he reached the 
front.

"I hope you all had a good six hours of rest.  Commander Ferrand 
has increased the number of missions we will be flying over the next 
few days.

A group groan reverberated through the briefing room.

Roman sensed that there was an atmosphere of bad feeling regarding 
the Kuntow operation.  He wasn't looking forward to the news of their 
next targets.

"The recon mission flown by Horus Klep was a success, and we now 
have a clearer picture of Tancred military strength.  Commander Ferrand 
is calling for a staged attack, starting with the elimination of 
Tancred supply lines to limit their ability to launch an effective 
counterattack.

Supply lines.  Roman wondered how many more food shipments they 
were going to destroy to weaken the Tancreds.  It was business as 
usual--accept Gorene enlightenment or be destroyed.

"Wing leader Alexandria, along with Pilots Lawton, Helmar, and 
Dept, will take four Liberators behind Tancred lines, fight their way 
past some light escorts, destroy the convoy freighters, and attack the 
supply base on Ariel, the largest moon of Orerites.  You can expect 
reinforcements to arrive once the Tancreds know we're there.  With any 
luck, you'll be in and out before they can respond.  This is an 
aggressive mission, so you'll just have to be careful.

The room was silent.  Roman knew Blois was talking an attack on a 
major Tancred base with a tiny strike group, which was just another way 
of saying they were going to commit suicide.  He couldn't believe it.

Dept abruptly stood up.  "Is Ferrand trying to get us all killed?"

Blois glared at Dept."You're out of line, Dept!  Sit down!"

Dept dropped into his seat.

"The plan makes sense; said Lawton.  "If we take away Tancred 
confidence, we take everything.  We have to push hard to get results.

Hela turned her cold gaze on Lawton."I thought we were liberators, 
not conquerors, Marsh?

"Officer Fulcher; said Roman."I respectfully suggest that we go in 
with a larger force if we proceed with this mission at all.  Doesn't 
this sound somewhat suicidal to you?"

"We have no desire to waste pilots on suicide missions' said 
Blois.  "If this mission succeeds, and Commander Ferrand thinks there's 
every chance that it will, then we could shorten the war by several 
weeks.  That in itself will save many lives.

"If you don't think you can handle it, wing leader; said Lawton, 
turning to look at Roman, I'll lead the mission myself.

Roman stood up.  "Not everyone shares your death wish, Lawton.  
Why don't you fly it alone and show us how good you really are!"

His fists clenched, Lawton stepped up close to Roman, his voice 
dripping with venom."I couldn't do that to you, wing leader.  When I 
came back, you'd never be able to live it down.  They'd realize what a 
mistake they made when they placed you in command instead of me!"

Roman thrust out his chin and gestured for Lawton to hit him.  
"You never learn, do you, Lawton?  You want to take another shot at me?  

I'm fully alert and sober this time.

Come on!"

"Sit down!" Blois roared."And shut up or I'll personally toss 
both of you out of the airlock so you can settle your differences 
outside!  Have I made myself clear?"

Still glaring at each other, Roman and Lawton sat down.

aNow," said Blois, "if the comedy act is finished, I can conclude 
this briefing:

The room was silent again.

Blois nodded."Yes, this mission will be dangerous, and I urge you 
to proceed with extreme caution.  If the enemy numbers are 
overwhelming, abort the mission and bring your fighters back.  As the 
Tancreds say, the road to Tomb is paved with dead heroes.  They think 
that's a good thing.  We, on the other hand, are not Tancreds, so do 
what damage you can and get back here alive.  You are dismissed."

As they filed out of the room, Roman and Lawton glared at each 
other.  In the pit of his stomach, Roman had the feeling that one of 
them would be dead soon.

CHAPTER 6 ASCALON RIFT--SECTOR IlImARIEL

Flying Liberator strike ships, Roman and the other three pilots 
had already destroyed the supply convoy freighters and their escorts.  
Damage to their ships had been minor, but Roman and Lawton had both 
been busy keeping Helmar and Dept alive during the dogfights.  Now the 
strike group raced toward Ariel, on the final leg of their mission to 
destroy the Tancred supply base.

Judging by its size and location in orbit around the Tancred 
homeworld of Orentes, Ariel was a primary source of resources for the 
Tancred fleet.  Its destruction would make a significant dent in their 
capability to sustain an armed conflict.

Now that they had gotten this far, Roman had to admit that their 
strike on the base might be worthwhile after all.

Its loss might well be the key to forcing a Tancred surrender.

Roman studied the target.  The supply base on the large moon was 
an impressive sight.  Without any appreciable atmosphere, the cratered 
surface of Ariel stood out in sharp relief in the light from the local 
Class G star.  Gray, white, and black were the predominant colors, with 
an occasional spray of orange or red from old meteorite impacts.  The 
bumps and ridges of Ariel's surface was def'med by the interplay of 
light and shadow, crossed by the long, straight rafts of the mass 
drivers that launched loads of mined ore into orbit.  The seemingly 
delicate webs of mass catchers danced around the moon, moving as 
necessary to intercept the launched resource buckets in their giant 
nets.

Roman held his Liberator level in a steady right turn, eighty 
thousand feet above the surface of Ariel, as he checked the recon 
images on his monitor.  The earlier recon mission by Horus Klep had 
given them excellent data, complete with three-dimensional images of 
the supply base, that the strike group could use for visual navigation 
on their arrival at the target.  Important structures, mainly those 
under the domes, were highlighted by the targeting computer.

Robots had expanded the base outward in concentric circles from a 
core mining and processing facility, eventually occupying half of 
Ariel's rough terrain.  While much of the base was underground, the 
connecting tubes and surface structures gave a good indication as to 
the age and enormous size of the facility.  The occasional containment 
dome dotted the surface, conveniently marking the locations of power 
facilities and hazardous fuel depots.

Roman cleared his throat, then glanced around at the other pilots.  

"Gold Strike flight, form up on the diamond.

Hard target in five."

Moving into strike formation, Roman'swingman, Marsh Lawton, 
maneuvered into position forty-five degrees behind Roman's right wing.  
Roman's neck muscles tightened felt when he realized he was in a 
vulnerable position if Lawton, decided to shoot him down.  However, he 
had to follow standard procedures for the strike, so he couldn't do 
anything about it.  He had to trust Lawton's sense of military 
discipline, which Blois felt was trustworthy.  On the other hand, Blois 
had been wrong before.

Helmar crossed underneath Roman to assume her position off his 
left wing.  Dept brought up the rear, completing the tight diamond 
pattern.

"Black Eye, Gold Strike is joined and proceeding on course to 
target.  We're at eighty thousand feet descending."

"Roger, Gold Strike five zero eight.  Report entering strike zone 
Bravo."

"afirmative, Black Eye."

Roman glanced to his left to check on Helmar, perfectly spaced one 
hundred feet from his wingtip.  She held her position as if she'd been 
doing it for years, not just a few months.  He smiled, then checked his 
rearview.  Dept's ship wobbled from side to side, but stayed close to 
its proper position in the formation.  Both pilots were inexperienced, 
so Roman gave Dept a few words of encouragement.

"Gold Strike five zero six.  Tighten it up!  We aren't going to a 
party here!"

Dept responded with two clicks over the comlink, then his 
Liberator surged forward to narrow the gap between his nose and Roman's 
tail.  With time, Dept would learn to make adjustments more often to 
maintain the formation.

Roman's eyes scanned the blackness around them.  He had assumed 
that there would be more defenses around Ariel, but there were no other 
lights in the sky besides their own strike ships.  On the horizon, the 
Tancred supply base rolled into view.  Roman checked the coordinates on 
his navigational display.

"Black Eye, Gold Strike flight entering zone Bravo, descending 
through sixty thousand, slowing to three hundred."

"Roger that, Gold Strike five zero eight."

Roman backed off the throttles to an even three hundred kilometers 
per hour, max conserve, taking it easy until he needed a faster fuel 
burn.  The other pilots matched his speed immediately.  The tactical 
monitor showed the ground targets onAriel as the recon images of the 
strike zone were correlated and verified by the navigational computer, 
then relayed to the targeting computer.  When all of the computers were 
happy with each other, the first five domes on the supply base glowed 
red on the tactical monitor.

Once again, Roman scanned the blackness.  No new = threats.  Not 
even a mine field.  The lack of mines or defensive satellites seemed 
odd, but Roman decided it most be due to the nature of the base.  
Sloppy freighter captains might blunder off course into the mine fields 
on their way to pick up loads of resources from the orbital mass 
catchers.

That made sense.  The supply base had primarily served civilian 
freighters at first, so military defenses had not been a priority when 
the base was established.  The Tancreds would soon learn that all of 
their assets needed protection from the Gorenes, which would stretch 
their limited military resources even further and force them into peace 
negotiations.

If a Tancred fighter had to defend a fuel depot or a freighter, it 
couldn't be out attacking Gorene ships on the front lines.

Roman scanned his instruments, then began preparing the Liberator 
for the strike.  He turned the safety collar on the armaments panel and 
pulled the selector switch down, activating the launchers on the four 
torpedo tubes.  Each tube carried five missiles that could be delivered 
at a rate of four per second.  Since they were now in the target zone, 
he threw the switch that energized the master armament circuits.

A blinking red light on the control panel assured him that the 
torpedoes were ready and waiting to hurl themselves at over two 
thousand kilometers per hour.

Gold Strike flight, lock and load," said Roman.

His eyes carefully sectioned off the sky for a thorough search.  
Still no lights.  If the Tancreds were going to let them destroy the 
supply base, Roman would oblige them.

The X-band alarm screeched, warning him of active scans from the 
ground.  Someone knew they were coming.

The ground defenses would need quick reactions to intercept them, 
but they were prepared for the attack.  Roman punched the chaff button 
to mask the outline of the Liberator, silencing the X-band alarm as the 
enemy transmitter became confused.

Black Eye, Gold Strike flight descending through ten thousand."

Roger that, Gold Strike.  No activity over target zone Bravo."

Affirm, Black Eye.

Roman dipped the nose a few degrees more, going for a fast drop 
toward the surface of Ariel.  The other Liberators matched his descent.

Gold Strike flight on the deck, full power, target lock, said 
Roman, shoving the throttle forward.  The acceleration made him feel 
heavier and pushed him further back into his seat.

As they leveled off two hundred feet from the surface, Roman's 
targeting crosshairs lined up on the first dome outlined in red on the 
monitor.  The computer was doing its job.

Roman fired off the first missile.  Fox one.

The other three Liberators followed their leader, launching their 
first rounds.  The results were immediate: Brief gouts of flame burst 
into the black sky over the supply base as the missiles struck home 
within seconds of each other.

The targeting computer selected the next programmed target.  Roman 
could see it visually, confirming that it was another domed structure.

The Liberators streaked over the initial targets, where the flames 
were already dying out in the near vacuum, fed only by leaking gases 
from beneath the surface structures.  Roman could see them in his 
rearview now.

The X-band alarm screeched and Roman saw a line of pulsed laser 
fire rising past his ship from a hidden gun era-placement on the 
ground.

Shooting!" Helmar shouted.  Her ship bobbled upwards.  In the 
rearview, Dept also wavered, but he held the formation.

Get back in line, Helmar,said Roman.  He's behind us now.

Farther ahead, another gun turret spit fire straight at Roman.

He pulled up, then turned hard to the right.  The stream of fire 
reached for him, crossing under the Liberator, then up through the 
space he had just occupied, jumping around in its attempt to bring him down.

"Fox two; said Lawton.

Out of the corner of his eye, Roman saw the gun em-placement 
explode in flame as the laser fire abruptly stopped He continued his 
turn, dropping back into place beside his wingman.  Thanks, Lawton."

Lawton responded with two clicks over the comlink.

Helmar and Dept were still together, but they had moved farther 
away from the formation.

Okay, let's pull it together and go for the next set,said Roman, 
checking his threat monitor for Tancred fighters.  Still no activity 
overhead.

The targeting crosshairs steadily moved down until they locked in 
on the next domed target.  Roman activated the scanner to look for 
infrared and electromagnetic clues of upcoming guneraplacements.  White 
bars moved horizontally, then vertically, across the scan monitor.  
After a few seconds, a laser cannon tracking toward them was revealed 
in the eerie red, blue, and green enhancements of the infrared image.

Fox two,' said Roman, launching another missile to remove the gun 
before it had a chance to range on the Liberators.

The next wave of targets vanished in flame under the onslaught of 
the Gorene missiles.  Roman and Lawton traded off on blowing up the 
surface guns with their lasers, allowing Helmar and Dept to concentrate 
on their computer locked targets.  That way, the two younger pilots 
would avoid wasting missiles on targets that weren't already programmed 
into their flight systems.

After another ten minutes, the attack was finished.  The supply 
base was severely crippled, with most of its power facilities reduced 
to smoking ruins.  Some of the domes covered processing factories with 
reactive fuel dumps.  These had been stored on the surface of the 
planet for safety reasons.

The fuel dumps had exploded nicely, removing not only themselves 
from the surface of Ariel but many of the structures surrounding them.

Black Eye, Gold Strike flight is leaving strike zone Bravo.

We are inbound toAR-l?

"Affirm, Gold Strike.  Be advised that thirty patrol craft are 
headed in your direction from Orentes.  Signal intelligence has 
verified emergency transmissions from the supply base.

They're looking for you."

Roger, Black Eye.  We won't wait around for them."

Gold Strike, traffic is clear to the jump point.  Your vector is 
one eight zero."

ASCALON RIFT--SECTOR H--ar-1 The officer's lounge was busier than usual that evening.  The 
pilots were trying hard to have a good time.  But the singing and 
joking felt forced, the result of heavy drinking, with the occasional 
brief fight between drunks.  Sitting in the shadows of a corner table, 
Roman drank Hittite firewater, a noxious blend of fermented grains and 
Hittite waters that could blow the head off a Queln yak.  Worry lined 
his face.  The unpleasant tone of the conversations among the more 
serious officers made Roman uncomfortable.  They were fatigued by the 
constant missions and needed a break, but Commander Ferrand showed no 
signs of slowing down.  As wing leader, Roman's only recourse would be 
to have another talk with Blois to see if he could break up the pilots' 
routine with a short leave or longer sleeping periods.

The attack on Ariel had successfully interfered with Tancred 
battle plans.  Tancred patrols and escorts had increased while attacks 
on the Gorenes had lessened.  However, tension onAR-1 was st'ill high.  
There were rumors going around that the missions were only going to get 
worse.

Roman glanced across the room at Dept, draped over a table with a 
bottle in his hand.  Ever since he'd entered the room, Dept had kept to 
himself.  This seemed odd to Roman since he remembered Dept being one 
of the pilots who always got in trouble for being the life of the party 
and carrying things too far.  He wondered if he should try to find out 
more about Dept's problems, but he could see that he wouldn't be able 
to get much out of him now.

"Arr, sir," said a gravelly voice from behind Roman's chair."Could 
I interest sir in some Queln jewelry or talking stones?"

Roman turned in his chair to see one of the pirate scouts standing 
behind him.  Pirates still roamed the space lanes just as pirates had 
always done, their ships loaded with unique trade items.  Pirates were 
tolerated in the Gorene Empire because they were sources of 
hard-to-find goods and technology.  The pirates went everywhere, so 
they were also good for intelligence information regarding enemy or 
unknown civilizations.  Since pirates could also pass on useful 
information about the Gorenes to their enemies, pirate movements were 
restricted within the empire.

However, the most trusted of the pirates were hired by the 
military forces as intelligence agents and scouts, such as the one that 
stood before Roman now.

Roman raised an eyebrow.."I don't know.  I've never seen any Quein 
jewelry.

The pirate's right hand plunged into the side pocket of his long 
coat.  The left breast of the coat had the name, "Capt.  Quark;' 
stitched into it in gold thread, along with an identification code in 
fine print.  His hair was curly and black, extending down past his 
shoulders.  He wore the traditional pirate uniform:A ruffled white 
shirt, black coat with brass buttons, and baggy sailor's pants with 
striped black and white socks.  His lower left leg had been replaced 
with the requisite peg leg made of brynwood.  Roman knew that tradition 
required all pirates to have peg legs, and the operation to remove a 
lower leg was always performed when the pirate child was still young.  
On his left shoulder was a red bag about eight inches tall.

The pirate held out his fist, then opened it to reveal a piece of 
gravel.

Roman frowned at the rock.  "Not much to look at, is it?"

"Eh?"The pirate frowned and held the gravel up to his face.  Then 
he lifted the eyepatch over his right eye and squinted at the gravel.  
Arr!  Terribly sorry, sir." The pirate tossed the gravel over his 
shoulder and plunged his hand back into his coat pocket.After a moment 
of rummaging around, he held his fist over the table in a small pool of 
light.  When he opened his fist, Roman was stunned.  A coarse gold 
chain held a pendant of cobalt blue crystal that glittered with an 
inner light.

Arr; said the pirate.  His smile had several missing teeth.

Pretty little thing, isn't it, sir?"

'Marvelous,said Roman.

A muffled noise came from the red bag on the pirate's shoulder.  
The pirate glared at the red bag."Quiet.

"Excuse me?

The pirate smiled again.  'Oh, I wasn't speaking to you, good sir.  

Sorry about that.

"Then who were you speaking to?

"Oh, don't be bothered about that, sir.  It's not important.

Just look at how the Queln bluestar catches the light!" Roman had 
to admit that the bluestar was quite attractive.

He wondered if Hela would like it.  He'd never seen her wear any 
jewelry before.

"How much do you want for it?" Roman asked.

"Well, now, sir.  Let's see,said the pirate."I know Gorene pilots 
aren't paid very well.  Perhaps I could work out a deal for you, sir?

The pirate left the bluestar on the table, knowing quite well that 
Roman would be captivated by it.  While Roman examined it, the pirate 
rummaged through his pockets and withdrew a holo-plate calculator and 
database system.  His fingers moved over the holo-plate with expert 
ease while he frowned, raised his eyebrows, and made several other 
strained facial expressions.

"Okay,said the pirate."I can't let it go for less than ten 
thousand Gorene gocredits?

Roman coughed.  "How much?"

"Absolutely no less than nine thousand gocredits.  Arr?

The red bag made another muffled noise.  The pirate glared at his shoulder again.  "Quiet!"

"Are you talking to that bag?"

"Yes, sir," said the pirate, picking up the bluestar.  When he 
closed his hand over the gem, Roman felt a twinge of loss.  He knew it 
didn't make any sense, but he had already become attached to the 
bluestar.

"Nine thousandy prompted the pirate.  "Nine thousand and it's 
yours."

"I'll give you five hundred,said Roman, sitting back in his chair 
and crossing his arms.

"Arr, you drive a hard bargain, sir, but the bluestar is a rare 
gem.  Ffestiniog is the only planet where the bluestar is found, and 
the Queln don't allow them to leave the planet.

I was nearly killed several times when I smuggled it off-world.

With all the trouble it caused me, I can't let the sparkler go for 
less than five thousand gocredits?

The red bag squawked on the pirate's shoulder.

"I thought I told you to shut up; screamed the pirate, whacking 
the red bag with his open palm.  Then he looked at Roman.  "Sorry, sir.  

Me parasite is acting up."

"I'll give you eight hundred,said Roman, taking the credit chip 
out of his shirt pocket and placing it on the table in front of him.  
"Take it or leave it."

"Sold!  Arr, you've outfoxed me, sir.  I thought I could sell the 
sparkler for much more than that.  By the way, me name's Quark.  
Captain Quark.

"And I'm Roman Alexandria,he replied with a smile.

The red bag squawked again.  Quark rolled his eyes with a heavy 
sigh.  "Would you mind?" he asked, indicating his shoulder.

"Mind?"

"Arr, it's me parasite.  He claims he can't breathe when he's in 
the bag for too long.

Roman hesitated.  "Oh, well.  Make yourself, and your parasite, 
comfortable.

"Begging your pardon, sir." Quark removed the red bag from his 
shoulder to reveal a birdlike feathered creature.

The feathers'were all the colors of the rainbow.  The creature 
didn't seem to have any wings, and its legs connected directly to the 
pirate's shoulder through a slit in the fabric of the coat.  The head 
was overly large in comparison to the rest of the body, and it was 
topped with a pointed crest of feathers that moved up and down as the 
creature got excited.  A small mouth took the place of a beak.  It 
looked around the room with its huge red eyes, then focused on Roman.

Good evening,said the parasite.  Its voice was irritatingly high 
in pitch."I'm Mojo.

"Good evening, Mojo," said Roman with a nod, a little unsettled to 
be speaking to a parasite.  But he was determined to be polite.

"You're not buying anything from crazy old Quark, are you?" asked 
the.  parasite.

Quark shook his finger in the parasite's face.  "You be quiet or 
I'll put you back in the bag, you feathered maggot!

"Actually,said Roman,"I'm buying a bluestar gem from the man.  
Nice, isn't it?

Mojo cocked his head.  "Quite nice except..:

Mojo's words were cut off as Quark stuck a finger in the 
creature's small mouth.

"Wait a second;' said Roman."I want to hear what he has to say: 
"No, you don't, good sir," said Quark."He's just a translator.

He doesn't have any worthwhile opinions, sir."

Mojo snuffled and honked, moving his head around to try and remove 
the pirate's finger from his mouth.

"I'd still like to hear him out;' said Roman, removing the credit 
chip from the table.

With a heavy sigh, and one eye on the credit chip in Roman's hand, 
Quark removed his finger from the Shuffling creature's mouth.

"That's better," said Mojo, looking at Roman as he cocked his head 
toward the pirate."Now you see what I have to put up with."

"What were you going to say about the bluestar?"

"Well, they're quite nice except they aren't as rare as the Captain claims."

"Oh, really?"

Quark gave Roman a desperate look."Don't listen to him.

He's just a parasite!"

Mojo looked at Quark with what appeared to be a puzzled 
expression.  "He should listen to you just because you're a host?  What 
kind of logic is that?"

"Well, you're the little thing that's growing out of me, aren't 
you?"

"That's hardly the point," said Mojo."If I'm smart enough to speak 
hundreds of languages, I'm certainly smart enough to have my own 
opinions."

Quark looked at Roman."Arr.  This is the curse of being a pirate.  
I'll tell you what, good sir.  I'll sell you the sparkler for five 
hundred gocredits: Roman looked at the parasite."what do you.think?

"It's a fair deal; said Mojo.

"Done," said Roman, setting the amount into his credit chip and 
handing it to Quark.

Quark accepted the credit chip with a nod and plugged it into his 
holo-plate.  "Thank you very much, good sir." He handed the credit 
chip back to Roman and touched two fingers to his forehead.  "Nice 
doing business with you, sir.

Have a good morrow."

Quark started to walk away.  Mojo's eyes widened as his head 
revolved to look back at Roman.  Something seemed wrong.

Hey, Quark!" Roman called.

Quark turned and looked at Roman."Arr?"

"The bluestone.  You forgot to give it to me."

Quark opened his fist and looked down at the bluestone with a 
startled expression.  "Arr!  You're so right, good sir!" He rushed 
back over to set the bluestone on the table in front of Roman.  "How 
silly of me, sir.  I'm terribly sorry.  Arr.

Roman smiled as he picked up the bluestone pendant.

"Quite all right, Captain."

Quark looked around to make sure no one was watching them, then he 
slid into the chair next to Roman."Would you like a bit of advice, sir?"

"Advice?"

"Arr?  Quark looked around again, then lowered his voice to a 
whisper."I knew Commander Ferrand when he was just a pup flying his 
first missions.  He Wasn't a very good pilot, but he was the best I'd 
ever seen at kissing up to his superiors.

It's a talent, I suppose, but I could never tolerate that sort of 
thing aboard me own ship.

Roman stared at Quark as he put the bluestone in his shirt 
pocket."Go on."

"Arr.  This Ferrand, he's a crafty one.  I was just out on a tour 
of Prajna-7 and..: "You mean to tell me; Roman interrupted, "they 
allowed you on board Prajna-7?  That's our most secret base.  Nobody 
can just come and go there."

"Depends on who you know, young sir.  Anyway, Ferrand was showing 
me the sights, and he was bragging about some of his plans for this 
region.  Now, you seem like a nice lad to me, so I just want to warn 
you." "Warn me?  About what?" Roman asked, wondering why Quark's 
pirate accent had disappeared.  That was a warning in itself--this 
pirate might not be what he seemed.

"Ferrand is planning a full resource assault.  He's going to use 
everything.  The entire fleet is going on a simultaneous attack against 
multiple targets around Orentes.

Roman nodded."That sounds like Ferrand, all right." Mojo had 
become agitated when Ferrand was first mentioned.

Now, he couldn't stay silent any longer.  "He's mad!

He's mad!  Don't trust Ferrand!"

"Quiet, Mojo said Quark."We don't want to draw attention: "Sorry, 
Captain," whispered the parasite.

Quark looked at Roman again, shaking his head.  "The problem is, 
Ferrand and Admiral Shylo both underestimate the intelligence of the 
local races.  The locals are expecting something on a large scale, and they'll take advantage of it when it happens.

"How?"

"I don't know yet.  When I know, I'll let you know.  Goterie 
pilots are some of my best customers, so I'd hate to lose them.

Roman sighed and looked out at the room full of pilots.

"So would I, Captain.  So would I.

A motion caught Roman's eye.  Dept staggered to his feet, threw an 
empty bottle against the wall, and passed out on the floor.

Blois Fulcher slumped back in the chair behind his desk, looking 
as if he hadn't slept in several days.  Roman stood in front of the 
desk with his flight helmet under his arm.  His face was red.  He had 
finally decided to speak with Blois before the next briefing.  His 
conversation with Captain Quark the previous evening had only added to 
his fears about the strategies of Ferrand and Shylo.  Quark might not 
be completely trustworthy, but the information sounded believable to 
Roman.

"We can't keep doing this," said Roman.  "We're going to start 
losing people.  They're going to start making stupid mistakes because 
they're tired, and that's going to get them killed.

Blois rubbed his face with his hands.  "I know all that, Roman.  
This hasn't been easy for me, either.

"It's free with me if you want to keep everyone on alert, but 
flying missions constantly is wearing them down too fast.  They never 
even got a break after the Armedia Queens-way campaign, and now you're 
asking them to fly around the clock.  It can't be done.  These people 
aren't robots."

Roman, I know that.  They're my responsibility.  But I'm only 
following the orders from Ferrand and Shylo.  We aren't here to 
second-guess our command structure.  As soon as I can manage it, we'll 
arrange leave for the squadron.

"I understand that it's not your fault, Blois, but I need some 
reassurance.  Either Ferrand isn't telling you everything, or you're 
not telling me everything.  Neither of those possibilities gives me any 
confidence.  The scuttlebutt says we're about to start on a full-scale 
assault against the Tan-cred.

If that's true, we're in big trouble: "The grapevine moves faster 
than light around here,said Blois.  He rubbed his eyes."What I'm about 
to tell you can't leave this room.  If you repeat it, I'll deny it.

"Okay?

'Commander Ferrand was pleased with the success of your strike 
mission on the Ariel supply base.  He was surprised that your full 
strike group returned, since we expected stronger resistance there.  
Command believes the loss of that base, along with the destruction of 
the coranine refinery, will severely limit the Tancred's efforts to 
defend themselves.  Before they can recover from those setbacks, we're 
supposed to carry the assault to their from door.  The idea is to hit 
several key targets all at once.

Roman shook his head in amazement.  "Are we going to get any help?  

If I understand what you're saying, we can't carry out that kind of an 
attack with the number of pilots we have on ar-1?

"We won't get any reinforcements until Prajna-7 is finished.

And if this campaign goes on that long, we may not be alive to see 
it.

Roman just stared at Blois as his heart started to pound against 
his chest.

"Roman, I must remind you not to discuss this with anyone else.  
I've done my best to argue against this course of action, but Ferrand 
isn't listening.  And Shylo supports Ferrand because he thinks Ferrand 
is getting results.  The fact is, we've been lucky.  I don't know how 
much longer we'll be able to hold out.  Ferrand isn't even providing 
for sufficient barrier patrols in this grand plan of his.  If the 
Tancreds, or any of the other races, manage to find us, they'll take 
this base apart.  For that matter, I don't know how much longer I'll be 
able to hold out.  Ferrand doesn't like me.  I argue too much.

Roman realized he was holding his breath, so he exhaled.

"I'm sorry, Blois.  I didn't know all that.

"Well, dealing with Ferrand is my problem.  I'm the tactical 
officer, so I'm supposed to translate the Commander's schemes into 
executable plans.  The problem is, Ferrand doesn't trust me anymore, so 
he's trying to do my job, too I'm going to try talking to him one more 
time before our next mission briefing.

"This is insane,said Roman."Admiral Shylo should be able to see 
we're pushing too hard.  He has combat experience.

Blois snorted.  "The admiral's combat experience was a long time 
ago.  I don't think he remembers what it was like to fly 
round-the-clock missions.  He's a strategist, not a tactician.

"So, in your opinion, we're doomed."

Well, that's one possibility," said Blois with a shrug."But we 
have the best pilots in the fleet and a long tradition of success.  
There's still a chance we might pull this off.

"A very small chance; said Roman.

CHAPTER 7 ASCALON RIFT--SECTOR IItAR.1 Roman noticed that the Gold Squadron pilots were unusually silent 
as they waited for Blois to arrive in the briefing room.  Most had 
heard the rumors that a full-scale attack, deep behind Tancred lines 
was to be launched from ar-1
 and the other bases.  Most of the pilots felt that they were not 
prepared for such an attack, and that they might well be killed.  
Although he wouldn't admit it to them, Roman agreed.

The pilots exchanged worried glances as Commander Ferrand entered 
the room.  His posture was straight and defiant.

As he strode to the front of the breifing room, he looked at no 
one.

Ferrand faced the pilots with a look of superior disdain.

No one moved.

Pilots of the Gold Squadron,he began.  I have taken active command 
of this operation.  Officer Fulcher has been given a new assignment.  
This is a crucial phase of our campaign in the Ascalon Rift, and there 
is no room for doubt and dissension.

Ferrand paused a moment to let the news sink in.  A gasp ran 
through the crowd.  It seemed to Roman that Ferrand almost smiled.  
Blois had been replaced; it was as simple as that.  Roman had the 
feeling that Ferrand might make him disappear as well.

I am the commanding officer of ar-1.  My orders stand, and I will 
not be questioned.  Thus far, my plan of attack has been successful.  
We've weakened the Tancreds by attacking their supply lines, so now 
it's time to mount an attack on their command and control system.  We 
will create confusion by knocking out their command posts and 
disrupting their communications.

Roman could see that Ferrand enjoyed briefing the pilots.

The pilots were forced to sit and listen to whatever he said, then 
carry out his orders without question.  To the command staff, pilots 
were becoming just numbers to move around on strategic plotting 
projections.

"Four Scorpions will jump into the region where we have pinpointed 
a series of communication satellites.  Your objective is to establish 
superiority in that area.  When you have achieved control by destroying 
the defensive patrols, four Liberators will jump in to destroy the 
satellites and the orbital command posts.  Secondary targets will 
include the ground-based command centers on the moons in the Orerites 
system.  The Scorpions will guard the Liberators and maintain security 
until the strike is completed.

Ferrand looked around until he spotted Roman.  "Wing leader 
Alexandria, along with pilots Helmar, Dept, and Samso, will fly the 
Scorpions.  Pilots Lawton, Kemp, and Calabreze will be fortunate enough 
to fly Liberators along with Commander Nishmar, one of the most 
experienced pilots in the Goterie forces: Roman's heart beat faster as 
he absorbed the news.  Nish-mar?

Who was this Nishmar?  And where was Blois?  Did Fer-rand think he 
could just make people disappear without any explanation?  Why would 
Blois be "replaced," except for disagreeing with Ferrand?  Was the 
Gorene policy of"submit or be destroyed" now being applied internally 
as well?  Agree or disappear?  Would he be next?  Someone had to say 
something.

Roman jumped to his feet."Commander Fenand, why has Officer 
Fulcher been relieved of his duties?"

"He hasn't been relieved of his duties.  He has been reassigned; 
said Ferrand, glowering at Roman.

"Did Admiral Shylo order this reassignment?"

Ferrand sniffed and held his chin high.  "I am the commanding 
officer here, and I make the orders.  Those orders will be followed, 
wing leader, or others may find themselves reassigned.  Do I make 
myself clear?"

"Quite clear, sir: Roman sat down.  This wasn't the right time or 
place.  A frontal assault in public wouldn't do him any good.

Once again, Kara Helmar and Krugon Dept had been assigned to 
Roman's strike group.  They were learning fast, but he wished they had 
been through more combat before being assigned to this type of strike 
mission.  Most of their experience had been in the Scorpion fighters, 
so at least they had that to their advantage.  Shyke Samso knew how to 
take care of himself, and he was good at following orders, so he 
wouldn't be any problem.  Roman would pair the inexperienced wingmen 
with Samso and himself so that the experienced pilots could keep an eye 
on the younger ones.  That way, there might be a chance that they could 
all do their jobs and come back alive.

The Liberator strike group, led by the mysterious Commander 
Nishmar, would follow them in.  Lawton had plenty of experience with 
the Liberator, Stas Kemp had some flight time in the strike ship, and 
Varden Calabreze had never flown a Liberator in combat as far as Roman 
knew.

Calabreze had learned the Liberator in the simulator but had not 
had much chance to fly against real targets.  Commander Nishmar was an 
experienced pilot, according to Ferrand, but that was all they knew 
about him.  Roman hoped Nishmar knew what he was doing, otherwise the 
entire strike mission could be in jeopardy.  It would be hard enough to 
get the strike group to trust Nishmar when they had never even heard of 
him before.  If it turned out that Nishmar was an incompetent friend of 
Ferrand's, the chances of everyone getting killed were much greater.

Krugon Dept stood up.  He was two chairs away from Roman.

Speak; said Ferrand.

"Why are you sending us on a dangerous mission with a pilot we 
don't know?  None of us has ever flown with Commander Nishmar: 
'Commander Nishmar is a great pilot and a great man; said Ferrand.  
I've known him for twenty years, and he's someone I can trust to carry 
out my orders.  You can be assured that he is more than capable of 
accomplishing this mission.  I want to make sure you have the proper 
leadership on a mission of this magnitude.  If you pay attention, you 
may even learn some things from Nishmar: Roman shook his head.  Learn 
what?  Learn how to succeed by toadyLag up to Ferrand?  Some desk 
jockey was goLag to come and show them how to fly?  What made Nishmar 
so special?  He had to ask, but he also had to be careful.  He knew he 
was pushing Ferrand, and he wouldn't be able to do anything about 
Ferrand's plans from inside a jail cell.

Roman stood up again.  "But why is Nishmar so important, sir?  
Does he have special knowledge of the target?"

I can't discuss that; said Ferrand, his eyes boring into 
Roman."And I don't need to justify my actions to you!" Dept's voice 
shook.  I don't wish to question your orders, sir, but I think we 
should have a mission confirmation from Admiral Shylo: Roman was 
impressed with Dept's courage.  I agree, sir.

This has been an unusual change of command: The rest of the pilots 
in the room grumbled their assent.

Ferrand was stunned.  His eyes widened even more and his face 
turned red as he shouted at the room."I can't believe this is our elite 
Gold Squadron!  You're more like hick-erLag cowards than accomplished 
pilots.  Follow your orders or I'll relieve this entire squadron from 
active duty!" Roman and Dept looked at each other and sat down.  As 
whispering erupted among the pilots, Dept leaned across Lawton and and 
said,"Roman, what are we going to do?

Ferrand sounds like a dictator.  What do you make of this?"

I wonder where he's holding Blois.  I'd like to talk to him:

"This is getting very strange; whispered Lawton.  Who is this 
Nishmar?

Seated in the row ahead of Roman, Kara Helmar turned around."I've 
never heard of him.  What if he screws up and we wind up dead?"

Dept nervously ran his fingers through his hair.We have to do something before Ferrand gets us all killed:

"Like what?" Lawton asked.

"I don't know,said Dept, looking at the floor." something: 
assuming I can have everyone's attention,said Ferrand, glaring at the 
whispering group.  I'll get on with the rest of the assignments.  
Officer Fulcher was obviously too soft on you people.  I will not allow 
conversation during my briefings, and you would be wise to remember 
that: Ferrand paused, looking around the room.  "A target of 
opportunity has been discovered that we can't ignore.  Our recon ships 
have located an abandoned Tancred repair dock.

It was left defenseless near the Ariel supply base we recently 
destroyed.  Pilots Selrase, Brool,Talmun, and Merlock will fly 
unescorted Liberators into the sector and quickly destroy the repair 
base before the Tancreds discover their error.  We believe the repair 
dock is still functional, but Tancred fleet movements have temporarily 
left it behind: Roman couldn't believe what he was hearing.  Things 
were getting worse.  They could assume that the command zone targets 
would be heavily defended, but Roman's strike group would not be going 
into the battle with sufficient strength for that type of mission.  
Now, Ferrand was defying all logic by breaking up the squadron into 
multiple simultaneous attack groups, which served only to weaken all of 
them and lessen their chances of success.

Roman found it hard to believe that Admiral Shylo would approve of 
such plans, but he was apparently doing just that in the hopes of 
ending the campaign before their three-month deadline.  If the Goterie 
High Command wasn't so anxious to invade the Ascalon Rift, they could 
wait until there was sufficient military strength based at the 
completed Prajna-7 battle station.  That would mean that existing bases 
such as ar-1 would be performing a holding action until Prajna-7 was 
finished.  That made much more sense than full-scale assaults on hard 
targets.

Roman shook his head and stood up.

"You have a question, wing leader?"

"Sir, I respectfully disagree with this strategy.  You say we have 
the Tancreds in a vulnerable position.  Why would you jeopardize 
our.advantage by breaking up our forces to strike a repair dock?  If 
we're going to strike at their command and control positions, we should 
concentrate our forces there.

Ferrand spoke through clenched teeth."Do I need to remind you of 
the importance of a deep-space repair dock?  If we destroy their repair 
base, they will have no other damage control facilites in the area.  
Damaged ships can't fly.  Don't question my orders again!  If you 
weren't such a skilled pilot, I'd lock you up for insubordination!  Get 
to your ship before I change my mind.  You don't want me for an enemy.

Roman thought it possible that he would look back on the Ascalon 
Rift campaign in his old age and laugh about his experiences, but he 
would need to live that long first.  With Ferrand in charge, that 
looked less likely with each passing day.

Roman peered out into the corridor from the dark confines of a 
fire control closet.  He held the door open just a crack so he could 
watch without being seen.  The air in the closet had a chemical smell 
that irritated his nose.

Hela Selrase walked toward the launch bay behind Brool, Talmun, 
and Merlock.  They looked unhappy, and none of them seemed to be in any 
hurry.  There was no conversation, only the sound of their boots 
thumping against the metal deck plates.  As they passed Roman's hiding 
place, he reached out and grabbed Hela's hand, yanking her into the 
closet.

"We have to talk; said Roman, holding Hela close in the dim light 
of the closet.

"I was hoping I'd see you, Roman, but this is kind of dramatic, 
isn't it?"

"We shouldn't be seen together, just in case there's trouble.  
Ferrand might decide he wants me to disappear, assuming I don't get 
killed on this mission.

"I'm worried, too.  Why would the Tancreds leave a space dock undefended?  It doesn't make any sense.

"I agree," said Roman.

%re should have a fighter escort And he doesn't seem to care if 
the pilots he assigns to the Liberators can actually fly them.

Brool is good, and I'm okay, but Metlock andTalmun don't have 
enough flight time in a strike ship to handle a mission like this.

I know,said Roman.  I've got a similar situation on my mission.  
Ferrand seems to think the simulator can replace combat experience.

"Ferrand doesn't know what he's doing." Hela put her arms around 
Roman and pulled him closer.  "We might not make it through this, 
Roman.  Something has to be done."

Roman rested his head on hers.  "I know.  But I don't know what to 
do.  I don't want to lose you.

"Oh, you won't get away from me that easily.  I'll come back, one 
way or another, even if I have to haunt you.

though her tone of voice was light, Roman knew she meant it.

"Don't worry.  We'll make it.

They kissed, then Hela pulled away."I'd better get going.

The others will be waiting for me in the launch bay.

"No," said Roman, pulling her back."Don't go yet."

"!  don't have a choice.

"There's always a choice, Hela.

Hela grinned.  "Not when you're in the military.  Other people 
make the choices for us.

Roman took a deep breath."Usually, but not always.  We're still 
individuals.  We can still change things if we want to.

"I suppose we could choose to go somewhere else.  Somewhere far 
away.  Together," she said, breathing in his ear.

Roman held her close to him.  "I'd like that, Hela, but I can't 
run away from my problems either."

Hela pushed away from him again.  "You think you can save the 
universe all by yourself, is that it?"

"No.  But maybe if I'm lucky I can save a world or two, along with 
my self-respect.

Hela sighed and held his right hand up to her lips to kiss it.  
"My knight in shining armor.  You don't have to save entire worlds.  I 
just want you to save yourself so we can be together.

Roman tried to smile, but it was unconvincing.  "I'll see what I can do.  "Come and find me when you get back, okay?"

'Okay?  Hela smiled, then she fumbled with the closet door until 
she finally gave up and kicked it open.

Roman's heart sank as he watched her go.  He knew he should find 
ways to spend more time with her.  Life had a tendency to race past 
while he wasn't looking.  More and more, he felt a sense of loss when 
she wasn't around.  He was sad that they had to be so secretive about 
their relationship when his inclination was to tell everyone about it.

Not wanting them to be seen with her, Roman waited a minute so 
that Hela would get to the launch bay before he arrived.  He shut the 
fire closet door and tried to concentrate on the upcoming mission.

Something had to be done, but Roman had no idea what that 
something should be.

ASCALON RIFt--SECTOR II--JUMP POINT GAMMA

Commander Nishmar was worried.  After the launch from ar-1, he had 
settled in for a thorough examination of the cockpit instruments.  He 
had hoped that the controls of the new model Liberator would be similar 
to the old version, but there were many differences.  The armaments 
panel, for example, had been completely modified and rearranged.

Certain navigational and repair functions had become automated 
since he had last flown, and the recon images with the automated 
targeting system would make the actual strike much easier, but he knew 
his unfamiliarity with the controls was a problem.  He also knew that 
he couldn't tell the other pilots in the strike group that he didn't 
know what he was doing.  With practice, he was sure it would all come 
back to him.  The last thing he wanted was for other pilots to get 
killed because of his mistakes.

Commander Ferrand was an old friend who had pulled Nishmar out of 
semi.retirement because he wanted him to share in the successes of the 
Ascalon Rift.  Ferrand trusted him to do a good job, but Ferrand was 
thinking of the old Nishmar, the man who had been an excellent pilot 
before the flying accident and the ensuing year in the med-chamber.

Since the accident, Nishmar had flown nothing faster than an 
activities desk at Tenaya on D'Zinee, which was one of the military 
resort worlds.  His supervisor there, Office Commander Leelis Sayes 
Wilnos, had even suggested that the desk job dealing with military 
personnel on leave was too stressful for Nishmar, and that he should 
consider full retirement.  Nishmr had the sneaking suspicion that she 
was right, but his pride wouldn't allow him to admit it.

When Wilnos made such comments, Nishmar just grumbled and imagined 
her head being blown off with a laser shot.

When he received the communication from Commander Ferrand 
regarding reactivation of his command rank, including a larger 
paycheck, Nishmar jumped at the chance.

Now that other lives were depending on him, he wondered what he 
could possibly have been thinking by accepting Ferrand's offer.

Nishmar didn't want to say tOO much to the other pilots, but he 
felt he should give them some kind of a warning now that they were 
about to make the jump into the combat zone.  If he said something 
subtle, they would be on their guard without jeopardizing his 
authority.  Right about now, they would be expecting him to say 
something appropriate about their mission.  "Gold Strike, this is Gold 
Leader.  Please bear with me.  I haven't flown an active mission for 
quite some time.

The other pilots responded with a loud silence.

"You're kidding, sir,' said Kemp with a polite, but nervous 
chuckle."That's a joke, right?"

"I assure you it's nothing to worry about.  I have much more 
combat experience than you do, Gold Strike two zero three."

Kemp hesitated before responding.  "Then why haven't you flown 
recently, sir?

"I had an accident," said Nishmar.

"Can you make it through this mission without getting killed, sir?  

Lawton asked.

"Of course,said Nishmar.

Can you make it through this mission without getting us killed?" 
Calabreze asked, adding a belated,"sir?

Nishmar cleared his throat.  He was annoyed at the tone of their 
questions and their lack of communication formalities."We all face the 
same hazards in combat, gentlemen.  I will do my best to get us through 
this mission without any fatalities.  However, your survival is largely 
dependent on your own skills, not mine."

Commander Nishmar," said Lawton.  "We need to know now if you're 
not capable of leading this strike group."

"I am quite capable; Nishmar said stiffly, "but since I understand 
your concerns, I will turn strike control over to pilot Lawton when we 
have arrived in the target zone.  Until then, you will follow my orders 
exactly.

Nishmar thought he had handled the exchange well.  He had warned 
them, turned strike responsibility over to Law-ton, and stressed that 
he was in command no matter what happened.  If the strike failed or 
they lost pilots, he could always lay the blame on Lawton.  All he 
would have to do is explain that he was letting Lawton stretch his 
wings by as-sming command under Nishmar's supervision.  Of course, 
Nishmar would do his best to protect Lawton from Ferrand's punitive 
wrath, but he would not accept any responsibility for failure.  He 
hoped they wouldn't lose anyone during the strike, but it was best to 
plan ahead.

"Gold Strike Leader, we're coming up on the jump point; said 
Lawton.

"Let's do it," said Nishmar.  He liked the sound of that.

ASCALON RIFT-SECTOR III--TANCRED SPACE DOCK Hela sensed trouble 
the moment they arrived in the battle zone.  At first, everything 
seemed quiet, which was odd for such an important sector of the Tancred 
empire.  Then they started seeing signs of wreckage.  Fragments of 
ships, some identifiable as Gorene fighters, floated past as the group 
pressed on toward the abandoned Tancred repair dock.

Hela had the unsettling feeling that the dock might not be 
abandoned after all.

The Gorene wreckage was recent.  Commander Ferrand had not 
informed the Gold Squadron of any joint attacks being conducted through 
the ar-2 and ar-3 bases, but that was the only explanation for so much
debris in the battle zone.  Perhaps Ferrand had decided they should 
remain ignorant of the danger.  The other possibility, that Ferrand 
didn't know about the destruction of Gorene forces in this sector, was 
too scary to think about.  Command had to be aware of the situation.  
Somebody must have survived to report back to the bases.  Even if no 
one had survived, the Intruder recon ships would have been able to file 
reports on the status of the battle zone.  A coordinatedTancred defense 
of that magnitude could not go unnoticed.

Unless it had been a carefully executed trap for the Gorenes.

Hela had to wonder if Ferrand had completely lost his mind.  
Perhaps he was acting without full authority, which would explain 
recent events.  It almost seemed as if Ferrand was working for the 
Alliance instead of the Gorenes.

"Alpha Strike Leader, I don't like the looks of this; said Kayla 
Brool, perceptive as always.

"It's not very encouraging," said Hela, scanning her instruments 
for signs of activity.

Marsala Talmun's voice sounded high-Pitched and nervous."Those are 
Gorene ships, aren't they?"

"Scorpions mainly; said Merlock."But there are a few Liberator 
pieces out there as well."

Hela studied a section of hull drifting past with Gorene markings on it.A smear of red paint on the hull had the disturbing appearance of blood.  She shuddered.

"Maybe we should go back; said Talmun.

"We should find out more before we abort the mission; said Hela.  
Nothing was showing on her threat display.  With all the wreckage 
floating around, it felt as if they were flying through a cemetery.

"Red Eye, this is Alpha Strike one one two.Anything you'd like to 
tell us about all this Gorene wreckage out here?" No response.

That was bad.

Hela decided there were three possible reasons for the lack of 
response from the Intruder.  Either they had left the battle zone, 
which was unlikely, or they hadn't heard Hela's radio call, which would 
be unusual considering the extreme range and sensitivity of the 
Intruder's communications equipment.

The third possibility was that Red Eye had been destroyed by a 
surprise attack on its distant recon position.

Without a fighter escort, and without the extended eyes of the 
Intruder, Hela's strike group was completely on its own in the battle 
zone.  The Liberators had good firepower, but they did not have the 
maneuvering and speed advantages of the Scorpion fighters.

They were on course to the Tancred repair dock, and there weren't 
any threats showing on her tactical display.

The Tancred ships might have left the area after the battle, 
assuming there would be no other Gorenes foolish enough to follow the 
others to their doom.  However, that was a remote chance, since the 
Tancreds appeared to have managed a major victory.  If her group made a 
quick assault on the space dock, perhaps they could hit and run before 
the Tancreds discovered them.

The quantity of Gorene wreckage in the battle zone was disturbing.  

Hela wondered if the Tancreds were using a new kind of weapon.  The 
Tancreds would have had to attack in huge numbers for conventional 
weapons to amass such an awesome kill rate.

The black vacuum around Hela's ship felt like it was closing in.  
She thought about all the Goterie pilots whose bodies must be out there 
somewhere, floating, intact or In pieces, tumbling gently in the 
eternal dark.  Goosebumps spread up her arms when she realized this 
fragile cocoon was her only protection from the cold space outside.  
She remembered a recon mission through an old Gorene battle zone, where 
she found a mummified fighter pilot in planetary orbit.  The Pilot's 
airless spacesuit had helped to preserve the blackened Gorene husk 
within, bathed in the cool white glow of the local dwarf star.

That pilot had lived on in her nightmares for a long time.

Hela squeezed her eyes shut to block out the image of the 
mummified pilot; then realized she was breathing hard.

She didn't want to end up drifting alone in her spacesuit, 
tumbling through space until the air In her suit ran out.  Before that 
happened, she'd suck vacuum voluntarily.  On the other hand, if she had 
to die in space, and she had a choice, she'd rather go quickly In a 
brilliant explosion.

These thoughts weren't doIng her any good.  Hela had three other 
pilots depending on her, so she had to gain control of herself.  As she 
struggled to take deep breaths and calm down, she forced herself to 
think about Roman and the way his eyes reached into her soul.  She 
thought of the calming effect of his deep voice softly murmuring in her 
ear.

"Are we going all the way in?" Brool asked.  Her voice grated on 
Hela's ears, but it helped snap her back to reality.

She had work to do.

"It would be a shame to come this far and turn around without 
seeing the local sights," said Hela.  She tried to sound confident, but 
she knew her voice sounded strained.

"I've seen enough," said Talmun."Really."

"I'm not picking up anything on my scanner or my tactical 
display," said Merlock.  "I'm.ready to attack something."

"We seem to have a clear shot at the repair dock;' said Hela.

"I think we should use it.  We may not get a chance like this 
again.  If any of you think you can't handle it, turn back now."

Hela was pleased to see that the formation stayed together.

Her only doubts were regarding Marsala Talmun, who was still 
untested in serious combat.  They might yet learn what Talmun was made 
of during the mission.

Checking with the nay computer, Hela saw that they would arrive at 
the repair dock in less than five minutes.  As part of her routine, she 
did an infrared scan of the area where they were heading.

"No," whispered Hela, her voice filled with dread.  "It can't be."

"What?" asked Marsala."What's wrong?"

"I just did an infrared scan on the target zone," said Hela.

She cleared her throat."I don't like the looks of it."

Hela adjusted her scanner to a wider area.  She had to confirm the 
sighting.  Thirty seconds later, dozens of heat traces filled the void 
between the Gorenes and their target.

She frowned at another monitor.  The threat display showed nothing 
in the area, but the heat traces had to be energy signatures from 
thruster engines.

"They're cloaked!" Hela yelled.

"The Tancreds don't have cloaking devices!" Brool snapped.

"They certainly do now!"

Marsala's shaky voice broke in.  "Maybe you're wrong!

Cloaking would hide aII of the radiation from their ships!" 
"They're moving too fast.  The heat from their engines is giving them 
away; said Hela, porting the data into her computers for analysis.

Hela's recon and nav computers were able to make a fast vector 
analysis of the heat signatures.  The result was bad news.  Fifty-four 
Tancred fighters were heading straight toward them.  They would have 
already intercepted the Gorenes except that they were still moving at 
slow speeds to avoid detection before their arrival.  But not slow 
enough.  That knowledge was the only Gorene advantage, but it might not 
be enough for them to survive.  Hela made her decision.

"Return to base,said Hela."Vector three zero two.  Full 
afterburner.  Go!"

Hela and the others maintained their formation as they rolled 
their ships toward the new heading, back the way they had come.  Their 
only chance would be to run far and fast before theTancreds could catch 
up to them.  As soon as the Tancreds analyzed the new Gorene heading, 
they'd drop any attempt at hiding their movements and go after the 
Gorenes at full speed.  At their current separation, it was still 
possible for the Tancreds to reach the Gorenes before they reached the 
jump point.  Outnumbered over thirteen to one, the odds were against Hela's strike group.

Can we make it?Talmun asked.

I don't know; said Hela."I guess we'll find out."

'They've dropped their cloaking; said Brool.  They're coming after 
us."

Hela verified Brool's information with her own instruments.

On full afterburner, the Gorenes were about eight minutes away 
from the jump point.  The Tancred fighters, smaller and faster' should 
be able to catch up to them in less than six minutes.

"Talmun and Merlock, continue to the jump point and report back to 
ar-1.  Someone has to get this information back to Command.  Brool, you 
follow them at a distance and provide cover.  If the Tancreds reach 
you, try to slow them down enough So that Talmun and Mefiock can return 
to base.

"If you're giving me a choice; said Brool, I'll stay with you.

I'm not giving you a choice," said Hela.  Brool always knew how to get under her skin.

I'm staying anyway.

Fine.  We don't have time to argue.  Talmun and Mefiock, you 
understand what to do?"

In reply, Hela received two sets of clicks over the comlink.

Then good luck.  Brool, let's back off to two hundred to give them 
a head start.  Lock and load, and we'll see if we can take a 
fewTancreds with us before we go.

Hela backed off her throttles to two hundred kilometers per hour, 
max conserve.  Brool slowed also, assuming a new position one hundred 
feet off Hela's right wing.

Watching Talmun and Merlock disappear in the blackness, Hela 
suddenly felt very lonely.

CHAPTER 8 ASCALON RIFT--SECTOR III--TANCRED SECTOR COMMAND ZONE Roman tried 
to swing his fighter's nose around for a shot, but the Zemun ship 
racing toward him kept changing course.  Roman had found that the Zemun 
fighters had good maneuverability, shielding, and weapon power, but 
they were slow to accelerate.

Roman wished he'd stayed in the fire closet with Hela on ar-1.The 
Tancreds had arranged a fierce defense of their command posts near 
Orerites.  He'd lost track of Samso and Dept.  Kara Helmar, busy with 
her own attacker, couldn't help him right now.  The Liberator group 
waited for Roman's signal to enter the battle zone, but he couldn't 
send that message until he had achieved the impossible and gained 
control of the region.

The area was filled with Tancred Samurai and Warlord ships.  For 
variety, the Zemuns had decided to join the party, bringing their 
Harbinger fighters along with them.  At first, Roman had not recognized 
the unfamiliar shape of the Ze-mun Harbinger.  He had never seen an 
actual Zemun ship until now, having only viewed projections of the 
various Alliance craft during early mission briefings.  The Zemuns were 
supposed to be busy preparing the defenses in their own sector of the 
Rift, precluding them from assisting the Tancreds.  It now appeared 
that the intelligence reports were incorrect, since there were plenty 
of them trying to kill Roman and the rest of his strike group.

The Zemun waited until he had a short-range lock on Roman's 
fighter.  Roman clenched his teeth when he heard the warning alarm, but 
he couldn't rotate his ship any faster.  The Zemuns had already 
demonstrated their laser and hellfire weapons against the Gorenes.  The 
laser cannons they used were the standard model used almost everywhere, 
but their hellfire weapon also had a good medium range and damage 
potential, which seemed to concentrate on the target's shields.

The Zemun had him.  Nothing would work now.  He'd have to take a 
direct hit from the hellfire on his shields.

Desperate, Roman reached for his afterburner button.  He gasped 
and covered his eyes with his raised arm as the Zemun exploded in a red and white flash.

"Helmar?" His heart was pounding.

Roman heard heavy breathing followed by Helmar's voice.  He was 
overconfident.  He didn't even notice me.

Roman saw Helmar's ship race past in his rearview.

Thanks.  What else could he say?  The adrenaline poured through 
his veins; that Zemun had gotten too close.

Krugon Dept had also experienced the hellfire weapon.

He was taking evasive action, trying to avoid the Zemun fighter's 
follow-up laser shots, while his shields recharged.

Samso was trying to lose two fighters of his own, so he was unable 
to help Dept, who was making himself an easy target.

Dept's inexperience hadn't gotten him into that vulnerable 
position; the Zemuns were good.

Roman's eyes widened in amazement as he saw the Liberator strike 
force appear on his tactical monitor.  The Liberators were supposed to 
wait until they received the relay signal from the Intruder recon ship.  

Due to the stiff opposition, it would be impossible for the Gorenes to 
achieve superiority with the number of fighters they had available.  As 
Roman had told Fenand, a complete battle group would be required to 
combat the combined forces guarding the Tancred sector command zone.

With one eye on the tactical monitor that showed aWar-lord coming 
his way, Roman cleared his throat.  Liberator Strike, this is Gold 
Escort.  yoU are not cleared for entry into target zone alpha.

No response from the Liberators.  a tancred moved in on his tail.  
Roman didn't have time to fool around.

"Liberator Strike, this is Gold Escort.  You are not cleared for 
entry into target zone Alpha.  Tancred forces still have control.  Do 
you copy?

The Intruder broke in.Gold Escort, this is Black Eye.  Liberator 
Strike is not responding, but they are vectoring in on target zone 
Alpha.  Request you intercept.

There was no time for Roman to respond.

Roman inverted his fighter and dove in a high-G turn, jinking and 
rolling to avoid the missile fired by the Warlord.

The missile closed in.  Roman didn't think he'd be able to avoid 
it unless his wingman could get off a shot, but Helmar was busy with 
another attacker.

When Roman's ship bounced and started spinning, he assumed the 
missile had struck his fully charged shields without physically 
damaging his fighter.  Then he saw the missile pass close overhead, 
sailing harmlessly off into space.

Apparently the Tancred had anticipated a quick kill, firing his 
vector cannon at Roman before the missile had actually hit.  His 
enemy's overconfident attitude had saved Roman from the missile, 
knocking his fighter out of the missile's path.  Now all he had to do 
was avoid the next shot.

Roman punched his afterburner and barely avoided slamming into the 
TanCred as he tried to control his spin with the extra power.  When the 
spin stopped, Roman opted for a missile launch, since he was too dizzy 
for laser fire.  The two ships were still very close, so the missile 
found its target quickly, exploding in a flash that almost blinded 
Roman as he rolled to try and avoid the debris.  He managed to gain 
some distance before a flaming chunk of fuselage slammed into his 
shields, weakening them considerably.  The damage control system was 
working on the shields at normal speed, so he diverted power to 
overcharge the shields.  With all the activity, he couldn't take a 
chance on being a defenseless target.

While he searched for Helmar among all the confusion on his 
tactical monitor, Roman scanned the tactical radio frequencies and 
caught a piece of conversation from the Liberator group.

"What happened to Nishmar?  I've lost him."The voice sounded like 
Stas Kemp.

It's tOO late; Lawton responded.  The Tancred got him.

I saw the ship explode: he jettisoned before the impact; said 
Calabreze.  I'm getting a signal from the escape pod.

We've got three bogies coming in; said Lawton.  'We can't pick him 
up now: Roman had the feeling that Nishmar wouldn't be the only 
casualty.  He shook his head and turned his attention to Helmar, who 
was busy dumping laser fire into a Zemun fighter.  Roman's shields were 
about ready, so he turned and accelerated on a course to intercept the 
Zemun, resetting his damage control system on the way.

The Zemun was busy concentrating on Helmar, so he didn't detect 
Roman's fighter coming up underneath him until it was too late.  Helmar 
had already weakened the Zemun's shields, so a few well placed shots 
from Roman's laser penetrated through to the ship's hull, blowing a 
hole through the cockpit section.  Energy from the laser impact left 
the dead Zemun fighter gracefully rotating as the shower of debris swirled away.

'Thanks, Roman.

That was one of the things Roman liked about Kara Helmar--she was 
always polite, even when she was blowing someone's head off with a 
laser.

My pleasure; said Roman.  He glanced at his threat display and saw 
the Tancred Warlord approaching on afterburner.

We've got a hot one coming in.  Form up on me: As Roman turned his 
ship to face the incoming Warlord, Helmar flipped her fighter into 
position exactly one hundred feet off Roman's right wing.  He admired 
her precision.

"Nice move," said Roman.

"I learned by watching you.

Roman smiled and glanced at his instruments.  The War-lord wasn't 
even slowing down."He's coming straight in.  If he maintains his 
course, I'll take him from the front while you snap roll on a vector 
one eight seven and flank him.  The Warlords are tougher than the 
Samurai fighters, so just keep pounding him until he breaks.

"Affirm, Gold leader said Helmar, getting back to business.

Roman had to admire the Tancred.  He apparently had so much 
confidence in his ability that he wasn't even trying to be subtle; he 
just wanted to fly straight in and kill both of the Gorenes.

Roman's forward monitor flipped into communications mode as a 
tancred face stuttered and took shape.  The fanatical gleam in the eyes 
and the angry expression were exactly what Roman had Come to expect 
whenever he saw a Tancred.  He couldn't imagine what a Tancred would 
look like if he smiled, which was probably just as well.

"I am Axlstyx, Lord of the Tancred Empire.  Prepare to die, 
Gorene.

"I'm sorry, Applewicks, but I have plans for this evening.

It would be inconvenient to die right now.

"You jest at a time like this?  Have you no honor?"

Roman kept one eye on the targeting screen.  The Warlord was 
almost in range."Maybe you can tell me why the Tancreds feel such a 
need to introduce themselves before they die?

"Gorenes would not understand the warrior code.  I confess that I 
don't know why I bother speaking with your pilots before I destroy 
them.  Perhaps it is the same reason I laugh at a mugworm before I step 
on it.

Roman was surprised that Axlstyx hadn't fired a plasma torpedo 
yet.  Perhaps he was waiting for a launch at close range so that the 
torpedo would have a stronger impact.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me, Axe-and-sticks.  I bet you 
spend a lot of your time stepping on mugworms.

"I am Axlstyx, not Axe-and-sticks!  Do not toy with me, Gorene.  
Your death will be much slower if you annoy me."

The Tancred was well within Roman's range, but he also decided to 
wait.  He only had one missile left, and he didn't want to waste 
it."Axle, you sound like you need a vacation.

You're way too tense.

"Your death will bring me much happiness, Gorene fool!"

The threat alarm shrieked as the Tancred locked his targeting 
system on Roman's fighter.  Roman was sure Axlstyx was hearing 
something similar in his cockpit.  He glanced to his right."Go, 
Helmar!"

Helmar responded in an instant, racing away on afterburner to 
start her flanking maneuver.  At the same time, Axlstyx launched his 
plasma torpedo.  Roman launched a missile and immediately followed it 
up with laser fire into the expanding plasma torpedo that was racing 
toward him.  The shots weakened the plasma field, but Roman didn't want 
to wait around and see what damage it would do to his shields, so he 
punched in his afterburner and dodged away.

Axlstyx plunged his Warlord into a heart-stopping series of 
maneuvers that confused the Gorene missile, which soon lost its target 
and sailed away harmlessly into the darkness.

By that time, Helmar had moved in close to the Warlord and was 
pumping laser fire into the Tancred's side, weakening his shields.

abe right there, Helmar; said Roman, as he angled up for a clean 
shot at Axlstyx.

Hold still and die like a warrior," said Axlstyx, trying to turn 
the Warlord fast enough to follow Roman's flight path.

I'd rather be one of the winning warriors" said Roman, firing 
bursts from his laser cannon at the Warlord.  He kept an eye on the 
gauge showing the laser's power-level.  The laser battery needed 
recharging soon.

Helmar's laser stopped firing.  Oops.  Bad timing.  Sorry, Roman."

Roman swung around for another shot at the Warlord's tail, but 
Axlstyx was rotating for a shot at Helmar with a plasma torpedo.

Watch it, Helmar.  He's coming around.

I'll see if I can hold him; she said, switching on her tractor 
beam.

For a moment, the Warlord was held in the grip of Hel-mar's 
glowing tractor beam, preventing the ship from rotating any further.  
While the tractor beam held the ship, Roman recharged his laser battery 
enough to pound the Tancred some more.  Finally, the bolts of energy 
from the laser cannon started breaking through the Warlord's durable 
shields.

You can't win, Gorene.  Surrender now while you still can!

Roman's eyes widened--the Warlord rolled suddenly as Helmar's 
weakening battery power fa'fied to maintain the tractor beam.  Axlstyx now had his plasma weapon facing Helmar at point-blank range.

"Helmar!  Move.

I can't!  Not enough power!" Just then, Roman's laser started 
punching holes in the War-lord's hull.  Hopefully, the repair systems 
on the tancred ship would start drawing emergency power keep the plasma 
weapon from charging properly, delaying the torpedo launch.

Come on, come on," said Roman.  Blow up!

Roman's laser battery failed.

The sturdyTancred Warlord is hard to break, Gorene; said Axlstyx.

Roman thought of a final option he hadn't learned in flight 
school.  He headed straight for the Warlord, then spun around on the 
ship's axis so that the mouth of his engine was facing the Tancred.  
Then, he punched in the afterburner.

The Warlord exploded nicely in the hellish stream of charged 
particles flying out of Roman's engine.

it isn't so hard to break with the right tools; said Roman.

Helmar's ship backed away from the explosion.  The push from 
Roman's engine had sent most of the wreckage away from Helmar's ship, 
leaving it untouched.  Roman thought she'd appreciate that.

Thanks again, Roman, but you certainly took your time finishing 
him off," said Helmar.

So much for appreciation, Roman thought.

The battle was going on around them, but they were in a pocket of 
relative calm for the moment, having cleared the threats out of their 
section of the space.  This sky was good, since they were nothing but 
weaponless targets until power returned to their laser batteries.  They 
paused to let their weapons systems recharge.

Then Roman spotted the massive shape of a Zemun dreadnought coming 
toward them.

Lawton only had two missiles left in the tubes of his Liberator, 
so he wanted to hold them in reserve.  The killing blow to the tancred 
Samurai would have to be delivered by laser.

The Samurai's shields had just failed, allowing Lawton to burn 
holes in the hull of the fighter.  A shot through the middle of the 
fuselage hit something that exploded, cutting the ship in half.

Lawton checked his tactical monitor.  A Gorene fighter was passing 
nearby, heading in toward a large concentration of Tancred ships.  The 
pilot seemed unconcerned.

"Gorene fighter heading three two three.  Be advised that you're 
heading straight into Tancred territory."

The face of Krugon Dept blipped onto Lawton's com screen.  
Goodbye, Marsh."

"Goodbye?  What are you doing?"

"I'm leaving.  I'm not going back to ar-1.  Ferrand is going to 
get us all killed.  This is against everything the Gorene Empire stands 
for, and I'm not taking part in it.  We're not killers or conquerors, 
Marsh.  Someone has to fight Ferrand'$ imperialism."

Lawton was shocked."Traitor!  The Tancreds will kill you!"

"I'd 
rather take my chances with them,said Dept.

"You'll take your chances with me first!  You're not going to 
defect!  I'll kill you before that happens!" The com screen went black.

Lawton's right eye twitched uncontrollably.  How could a Gorene 
defect to the enemy?  Should he hunt Dept down and kill him for being a 
traitor?  What was the protocol for this situation?  Why hadn't Nishmar 
survived so he could blame Dept's disappearance on him?  As far as he 
knew, this sort of thing had never happened before.  Defection was 
unthinkable.

He couldn't allow a traitor to set an example for the others.

His course was clear.  Dept had to die.

Lawton glanced at the tactical monitor to get a fix on Dept's 
position, now quite close to the main Tancred force.

There wouldn't be much time.

Lawton ignored the Zemun fighter coming toward him and punched in 
his afterburner.  The Zemun followed.  Dept increased his speed.

"Come back here, Dept!  Fight me!  I want to kill you before they 
do!"

No response.

The Zemun launched a missile toward Lawton.  The warning buzzer 
irritated him.  He didn't have time for distractions.

Now he had to take evasive action before the missile ventilated 
his fuselage.

"Dept, you traitor!  Come back here!"

Dept sighed over the comlink.  "You'll never catch me, Lawton.  
You're too far away," Lawton's fighter spun away from the Zemun 
missile.  He glanced at his fuel gauge--he'd have to shut down his 
afterburner or risk getting stranded in the battle zone.  To top it 
off, the Zemun would be overtaking him long before he reached Dept.  
Frustrated, he slammed his fist into the wall of the cockpit.

Dept sailed away into the Tancred lines.

"We can't fight that thing," said Roman, keeping his eye on the 
Zemun dreadnought as it majestically moved toward them.  It was almost 
as powerful as a Gorene base such as ar-1.  It was certainly powerful 
enough to swat Roman and Helmar out of the sky.  With its massive bulk, 
the dreadnought was slow to maneuver and accelerate, but it had the 
capabilities of a star destroyer.

"I'm so glad to hear you say that," said Helmar.  "I was worried 
you might lose your mind and tell me we were going to blast it out of 
the sky."

"Not this time.  Maybe if there were a lot more fighters, but the two of us wouldn't even scratch it."

"Roman, do they know we're here?"

"They must know, but I don't think they care.  We're not a threat.  

We're not even moving.  If they've done a full scan on us, they know 
we're low on power as well.  It wouldn't surprise me if they had enough 
scanning equipment to read our names off our flight suits.  Why, 
they're probably reading our minds right now."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I hope so."

"We could call for help."

"And attract their attention?  No, thanks.  Besides, there's no 
one around to help us."

"Gold Escort leader, this is Liberator Strike."

Roman recognized Marsh Lawton's voice.  Now that Nishmar was out 
of commission, Lawton would be in command of the strike group.  "Go 
ahead, Liberator Strike."

"We've lost Krugon Dept."

"Dept?  What do you mean?  He's attached to my group."

Lawton sighed."Have.  you seen him recently?"

"No.  You mean he was killed?"

"I mean we've lost him!  He's gone over to the other side!"

Roman waited a moment for the news to sink in, keeping one eye on 
the approaching dreadnought.  Dept a defector?

It didn't make sense."We're a little busy right now, Lawton.

Are you sure he's defected?"

Lawton's voice was tense."He told me about it himself.  I was 
warning him about getting too close to the Tancred fleet, but he said 
Ferrand was insane and he wasn't going to take it anymore."

Helmar tried to interrupt."Sir?"

"The Tancreds will kill him," said Roman, shaking his head in 
wonder.  He couldn't believe a Gorene would defect.

"I know; said Marsh."That's what I told him."

Helmar cleared her throat over the comlink."Roman?"

Roman ignored her.  "I've never heard of this happening before."

"If things weren't so hot, I could go after him."

"Gold leader?" Helmar prompted in a tiny voice.

Roman still didn't notice.  "What's the point?  You'd just get 
yourself killed as well.  If the Tancreds don't kill Dept right away, 
they'll probably torture him until he dies.  Even so, he doesn't know 
anything they'd find useful.

"He's a traitor!  He should be killed!"

Helmar shouted.Roman!"

Roman blinked.  He had not taken his eyes off the Zemun 
dreadnought, which was getting close.  A glance at his instruments told 
him they were almost capable of leaving the area with full shields.  
His heart beat faster.  His fingers drummed impatiently against the 
console.

"I see it, Helmar.  We're almost ready."

"Ready for what?" Lawton asked.

"We're clearing out.  You don't have a tracking signal from 
Nishmar?

"No.  We've been busy.  We know the escape pod left Nishmar's ship 
before it exploded, but we've moved around a lot since then and nobody 
has been able to pick up the signal from the rescue beacon."

"All right.  Check in With Black Eye and return with Calabreze to 
base," said Roman.

"Affirm that, Gold Escort," said Lawton.

Roman scanned his instruments once more.  The batteries were near 
full power and the repair systems were finished with their tasks.  It 
was time to go home.

"Helmar, what's your status?"

"I can move any time, boss."

Roman was impressed by the Zemun's restraint, since no shots had 
been fired.  As far as the Zemun captain was concerned, he could smash 
right into the Gorene fighters and his ship wouldn't even be damaged.  
"Let's get out of here before that Zemun monster runs over us.  It's 
bad enough to die fighting, but I'd hate to get stepped on like a bug.

There wasn't enough fuel left for a fast exit with the 
afterburner.

They'd have to be conservative on their way home unless they were 
attacked.  Even then, they wouldn't be able to get fancy.  In the 
distance, Samso was still struggling with a Tancred, but it was time to 
retreat.

As Roman shoved the throttles forward, he recalled Samso, who 
abandoned his battle and raced to join up with them.

Roman needed a moment alone to think.  But as soon as he'd landed 
back at base, he'd received a message to report to Ferrand's office.  
Not a good sign.  As he passed the fire control closet where he'd had 
his last few moments with Hela, he saw his opportunity and ducked 
inside.

In the darkness of the closet, Roman leaned back against the wall 
and sagged to the floor, propping his helmet on his kness.  Despite his 
fatigne, his brain wouldn't slow down.

Hela's mission was dangerous and she might not return.  He didn't 
want to think about that.  He'd felt the same way about his parents 
when he was young, hoping they'd somehow come through all their 
adventures alive, hoping they'd come back to him safely.  He knew 
everyone had to die sometime, and he understood that intellectually.  
But when it came right down to it, he'd rather die himself than live 
through the grief of losing someone he loved.  The simultaneous loss of 
his parents--the people who had cared for him, loved him, taught him, 
and supported him through his growing years--was the worst thing he'd 
ever been through.  That hole in his heart had never completely healed.  

And for years he'd maintained an emotional wall that had kept his 
friends at a distance, knowing he might lose them at any moment.  Hela 
had been the first to get beyond that wall.  Despite his reluctance to 
get too close, Hela had been persistent.  She had uncovered his buried 
emotions.  He didn't want to give that up now.  She had to return 
safely.

Nishmar was lost, Dept had defected, and his strike mission had 
failed.  The Tancreds and Zemuns had formed a sturdy defense in the 
Orentes system that couldn't be broken by anything less than a full 
Gorene battle fleet.  But Commander Ferrand would probably only see 
that he had failed.  Bitis would have understood the situation, even if 
he'd had to support the decisions of their commanders, but Fen-and was 
not a reasonable man.

With a heavy sigh, Roman lurched to his feet.  As with any other 
problem, he couldn't make Ferrand go away by ignoring him.  After all, 
the worst Ferrand could do was to chew him out and relieve him of 
command.  And that didn't sound too bad right now.

Roman checked to make sure the corridor was empty.  Then he 
stepped out of the closet and continued toward his meeting.

I'm not impressed with your performance; Ferrand said as he paced 
back and forth behind his desk.I think Fulcher made a mistake by 
promoting you to wing leader.  There are too many lives at stake to 
allow this kind of incompetence in the Gold Squadron.

Roman continued glaring at Ferrand, as he had since he'd entered 
the office.  His helmet was still under his arm.I did the best I could, 
considering the situation.

"It appears that doing your best was not good enough.

One of our pilots defected, and Commander Nishmar was captured by 
the Tancreds.

Roman couldn't believe what he was hearing."I had no control over 
that!  Nishmar was in charge of the Liberator group!"

"Your mission was 
to secure the area so that the Liberators could safely enter the battle 
zone.  Your group failed in its task, which led to the loss of 
Commander Nishmar.

"According to the rest of the Liberator group, Nishmar didn't even 
know what he was doing.  He had never been checked out in the new model 
Liberator.  The fact is, sir, you brought in a friend of yours and put 
him in charge of a strike group even though he wasn't qualified.

Ferrand stopped pacing to give Roman a withering look.

A vein in Ferrand's forehead pulsed."You dare to question my 
authority?  Commander Nishmar was the best choice.

Roman slammed his helmet down on the desk.  "We should never have 
been sent in there' in the first place!  We should have known there 
would be a heavy defense from the Tancreds--though we certainly didn't 
expect the Zemuns.

"The Zemuns.  Intelligence said they weren't even supposed to be 
in that area, and I'm suspicious of your sighting reports.  You've 
never actually seen a Zemun ship in person before, have you?

Not until this mission:

Ferrand snorted and resumed his pacing."As I suspected.

'I know what Zemun ships look like: "Ah, but only simulations, and 
that's not the same thing, is it?  You are no doubt mistaken.

The ships I saw were clearly different from the Tancred style.  As 
I stated in my report, I also got a close look at one of the Zemun 
dreadnoughts, and the Tancreds don't have anything that large." Ferrand 
stopped his pacing again and looked at Roman with one eyebrow raised.  
"Were you able to speak with any of the Zemuns to verify their 
identity?"

"No, I don't think they were in the mood to talk.  They're not 
like the Tancreds, who talk your ear off.  I think the Tancreds use 
boring conversation as a weapon to distract their opponents."

Ferrand sniffed."You didn't actually see any Zemuns.  You can't 
prove that you saw Zemun ships.  I think you're creating excuses to 
mask your incompetence, which leaves me with a difficult situation."

"With all due respect, I think you're trying to escape reality," 
said Roman.  After a pause he added,"sir."

Ferrand ignored him.  "In addition to your fumbled mission, I've 
had to declare a state of emergency.  It appears that the 'abandoned' 
repair dock was really an ambush.  The Tancreds wanted to draw our 
attention away from the main battle group in the Tancred command zone."

No!  Hela was there!  Roman's mind raced.  Where was she now?  How 
much did Ferrand know about the situation?  If Ferrand was responsible 
for her death, he'd rip his smirking face off with his bare hands.

"I told you we shouldn't split our forces!  You wouldn't listen!"

Ferrand's fist slammed down on the desk.  Silence!  We aren't the 
only ones with this problem!  Similar distractions also occurred with 
our advance units based at ar-2 and ar-3.The result has left our Rift 
forces in a compromised position.

Roman's heart sank.  He had to find out what Ferrand knew about 
Hela without revealing his relationship with her.  "The strike group 
from the repair dock mission hasn't returned yet.you mentioned an 
ambush." Roman swallowed hard before he finished.  If Ferrand answered 
the wrong way, he'd kill him on the spot and worry about the 
consequences later.  What happened to them?"

Two pilots are on their way back.  Talmun and Merlock.

They reported the ambush.  Large strike groups from ar-2 and ar-3 were completely destroyed.  Even the recon ships from 
those bases were eliminated before they could report.

Two pilots ran interference to allow Talmun and Merlock enough time to hyperjump back to ar-1.  '

Hela and Brool; Roman said quietly.

'Selrase and Brool.  I believe that's correct.  You could learn 
something from pilots such as those,Alexandria.  They took charge and 
fought a rear guard action so that we could be warned about the 
situation.

Proof.  There wasn't any proof that they were dead.  She wouldn't 
leave him alone like that.  She wouldn't get herself killed.  Roman 
held onto those thoughts, but he felt weak from the news.  Either Hela 
was out there fighting Tancreds somewhere, or she was dead.  He 
preferred to think she was fighting.  She was good at that.  It could 
only have been a few hours since her fight with the Tancreds.  There 
was still a chance.

'The Tancreds have brutally attacked us on two fronts, Ferrand 
continued."Our Rift forces have sustained heavy casualties.  The 
Tancreds allowed a few fighters to survive and followed them back their 
bases.  Now, both ar-2 and ar-3 are under attack.  If we lose those 
bases, it won't take long for the Alliance to find ar-1.

But my new plans are already under way,said Ferrand.

There will be a mission briefing in one hour, but there is no need 
for you to attend."

Roman took a step back.  What?  Why not?

Because you are no longer the wing leader of the Gold Squadron.  
Marsh Lawton will take your place on the next mission."

But--'

 You're confined to your cabin until I decide your fate.

Roman picked up his helmet and hurled it against the wall, then he 
stormed out of the room.

CHAPTER 9 Roman lay on his bunk with his arms folded, staring at the 
ceiling.  He felt cold and empty.  Somewhere, Hela was in trouble, 
possibly even dead.  A drawn-out battle without any recharge time would 
rapidly drain her ship's capacities.  A forced landing on a suitable 
planet might give her a chance at survival, but Roman had no idea what 
the planets were like in that sector of space.  If Hela was near an 
average system, there would be few habitable planets within the 
ecosphere of the primary star, and she would have a long dis-rance to 
travel before a landing was possible.  Tancreds or Zemuns might have 
captured her, but Roman doubted that Hela would have allowed that.

He wondered if she was still wearing the bluestone he'd given her.  

Pilots weren't supposed to carry foreign objects during their 
missions, of course, but good luck charms and small items of personal 
significance were usually overlooked.

When Roman last saw it, the bluestone looked quite happy, dangling 
from the gold chain around her neck and shining in the comfortable 
valley between her breasts.

At least, Roman knew he would be happy nestled between her 
breasts, so he assumed the bluestone would like it, too.

She had to come back.  He didn't want to live his other wise dreary life without her.

Mr, matey!"

Roman was startled by the sound of a harsh male voice near his 
head.  He sat up suddenly, almost hitting his head, and stared at 
Captain Quark.  "Huh?"

Captain Quark and Mojo at your service, good sir?

"Yes, I know who you are, but--" No time to chat, sir.  There's a 
problem I think you should be aware of, seeing as how everyone else is 
in the briefing at the other end of the base."

Problem?"

Yes, sir.  There's an odd sound that woke me up from a fine 
sleep." "A sound?" Roman was having trouble following the pirate.

"Kind of a high-pitched whistle, if I was to describe it, sir.

"Why are you bothering me about this?" Well, sir, the last time I 
heard this kind of a sound, the back half of me ship exploded into bits 
no bigger than your thumbnail." 'Ah.  That's disturbing.  Now that he 
mentioned it, Roman could hear a distant whistling noise.

It was pure luck that we survived that time,said Mojo, with a wise 
nod of his head.

indeed, it is disturbing, sir, which is why I was looking for some help.  There's also the matter of the note.

What note?"

There was a note stuck to the back of me coat.  Mojo said it's been there since yesterday, but he didn't bother to · be 
telling me about it.  It's from that Krugon lad that's been hanging around me far too much for the past few days.

a dept left you a note?  He never came back from his last mission.  

He defected." Quark nodded.  'Well, that would be explaining a few 
things, sir.  The note was a warning to leave ar-1 before something terrible happened:

what?"

'Something terrible, I guess."

Leave when?" ' About half an hour ago.  around the time the 
whistling started.  Seeing as how everyone else is busy, perhaps you 
could help me find the source.  As you might know, I'm not allowed into 
certain areas of the base, being a pirate and all.

I risk me neck for these people, but they still don't trust me 
completely.  Mr."

I can try." Roman wasn't sure if the whistling was important or 
not, but it wouldn't hurt to check.  Technically, he was confined to 
his cabin, but there weren't any guards and the door wasn't locked.

Quark beckoned for Roman to follow.  "Right this way, sir."

If Roman hadn't heard the whistling noise himself, he would have 
thought Quark was trying to trick him into getting access to restricted 
areas of the base.  Since he'd only met Quark once, in the bar, he was 
still suspicious of the pirate.

However, the pirate's concern seemed genuine, and the Gorene 
intelligence unit had seen fit to trust him with more important 
information, so Roman would trust him for the moment.  Quark's previous 
tip about their last mission had been correct, so that also gave the 
pirate some credibility.

As they descended to a lower deck, the whistling sound got louder.  

The pitch was high enough to hurt their ears.

Mojo ruffled his feathers.

"What do you suppose it is?" Roman asked.

"It's not me way to worry people for nothing, sir.  We'll be 
finding out soon enough:' The hallway ended at an open hatch in the 
floor with a vertical ladder leading down to the next deck.  
Alternating black, yellow, and red stripes marked the gray deck around 
the hole, along with the words "Blue Level Clearance Only in blue 
letters large enough to be read by a blind person.

"I assume sir is a blue level," said Quark, looking at Roman with 
expectation.

"More or less; said Roman.  As wing leader, he had access to blue 
and higher level restricted areas.  Since he assumed no one else knew 
of his demotion yet, he could go wherever he wanted on the base.  When 
he was placed in a cell, if that's what Ferrand had in mind, his 
movements would be somewhat more restricted."You first," said Roman, 
gesturing at the ladder.

Quark started down through the hole, his boots clanging on each 
rung.  Roman thought he could detect worry in Mojo's eyes as the 
parasite looked back up at him.  Of course, he was no expert on judging 
the facial expressions of parasites, so he might just be reading his 
own concerns into Mojo's furtive glances.

They were now on one of the lowest levels of ar-1, a maintenance 
deck where multicolored pipes and valves were exposed in the corridor 
for easy access.  The hallway was narrower and shorter than those on 
the higher decks due to the large quantity of pipes and ducts attached 
to the walls and ceiling.  The whistling sound was getting louder as 
they moved down the hallway, stepping through hatchways with thick 
doors standing open.

At the end of the corridor, they entered a room that served as a 
piping intersection.  Pipes of all sizes and colors met here at right 
angles and continued off in new directions, vanishing through the walls 
on their serpentine paths.

The whistling was louder in this room.  Roman was unsettled by the 
presence of a slight breeze, since it was an unusual event aboard a 
self-contained base.

Quark looked around the room for a moment, then ducked under some 
piping and walked over to a control panel festooned with colored 
lights.  Roman followed, watching Quark study the groups of lights 
until he raised one eyebrow and glanced at Roman.

"Arr.  Seems to be a small problem here, sir."

Roman looked where Quark was pointing on the control panel.  The 
display was confusing, but color coded in some relation to the mass of 
pipes running through the room.

One section of s6lid green lights, presumably related to the large 
green pipe that ran from the ceiling to the floor just a few feet away 
from them, ended in a flashing red light.

You see that red light there, sir."

"What does it mean?"

"Well, this panel represents the safety valve system for all the 
pipes in this room.  Solid-colored lights match the colors of the 
pipes.  They tell us the valves are in their normal open or closed 
states.  Flashing red lights mean trouble.  Some of these pipes vent 
straight out into space, so it's a cause for concern when a valve 
malfunctions: "There should be an engineer assigned to this station; 
said Roman, looking around.

"Arr.  The problem is, there's no one here now except us."

"What kind of a pipe is it?"

Quark glanced over at the massive green pipe.  Judging by the size 
of it, I'd say it's a disposal chute."

Roman sighed."We came all the way down here for a garbage 
problem?"

Quark looked at Roman with an ominous expression.

"No, sir, we came all the way down here because we're losing our 
atmosphere through an open valve.  I don't know about you, sir, but I'd 
like to keep breathing for awhile.  Arr."

"Me, too," said Mojo.

"Ah," said Roman.

"Seeing as how that valve is the last one in the chain, it's the 
outer bulkhead door that's stuck open a bit.  if it was fully open for 
this long, the rest of the pipe valves would be popping open by now, 
since they aren't meant to withstand prolonged vacuum pressure."

"How do you know so much about this stuff?." Roman asked.

Quark winked at Roman.  "Experience, good sir.  I'm captain of me 
own ship, so I have to know more about how things work than me crew.  
Arr."

"And the last time this happened, we lost our ship," said Mojo.

"Arr.  The outer sewer bulkhead door blew clean off me ship.  When 
the rest of the valves blew, half me ship exploded."

"Then we should get this fixed; said Roman.  "What do we need to 
do?"

"Find the secondary leak that's causing that whistle said Quark, 
walking over to inspect the fittings at the base of the green pipe.  As 
he looked around the far side of the pipe Quark jumped."Arr!"

"What is it?" Roman asked.

"I found the engineer; said Quark."He's stuck in the inspection 
port: Roman was beside Quark in an instant.  The engineefts face was 
purplish-black.  His lips were pulled back in a horrible death grin and 
his eyes were shut.  At first, the position of the head didn't seem to 
make sense, as it was sticking out of a small inspection port in the 
side of the green pipe near the floor.  Then Roman realized that the 
rest of the engineer's body was inside the pipe itself.  Only the man's 
head and shoulders were keeping his entire body from flying out into 
space through the open bulkhead door.  The engineer was conveniently 
plugging the hole, but the whistling leak around his body was getting 
louder.  Roman could see the plug was temporary.  If the rest of the 
engineer crumpled and went through the hole, Roman and the others would 
quickly follow it out into the black void beyond.

The engineer must have been in the room when the leak developed in 
the inspection port, sucking everything loose out of the room with 
tremendous vacuum pressure.  The explosive decompression had caught the 
unfortunate man by surprise, and his body had broken until it fit 
through the small inspection port.  Only the tough bones of his upper 
body had survived.

For some reason, the room's automatic pressure hatch and the 
alarms had not responded to the emergency.  Roman punched one of the 
red alarm switches on the wall nearby, but the alarm remained silent.

"Is there any way to fix this?" Roman yelled at Quark as he looked 
for the com system.

Maybe," Quark responded, rushing back to the control panel.  He 
punched six buttons in succession, but the whistling continued to get 
louder.

Roman found the com system and slammed his fist into the button.  
"Emergency!  Seal off Maintenance Station Twenty-Nine in sub-level 
four!  The waste pipe bulkhead door is open to space!"

No response.  The com system ready light was dark.  Had all of the 
safety systems malfunctioned, or had someone disconnected them?  Roman 
ran over to join Quark at the control panel.

The whistling was so loud Roman had to yell to be heard.

"Anything?"

"No!  Nothing's working!"

Roman glanced at the maintenance room door, a heavy hatch designed 
as an emergency pressure bulkhead for this type of situation."Let's get 
out of here!"

"You heard him,Mojo yelled into Quark's ear."Let's get out of 
here!"

Quark looked up from the control panel.  Arr!'

The whistling sound had increased to a howl.  The air was now 
rushing past Roman and Quark as they ran toward the door.  Roman's ears 
popped.  If the emergency systems had been working, the drop in 
pressure would have triggered an automatic door closure to protect the 
rest of the base.

In the corridor outside the maintenance room hatchway, Roman tried 
pushing the manual override button to close the heavy hatch.  Surprise, 
thought Roman.  The door failed to close.  The secondary door that 
opened into the corridor also failed to close.  Someone had done a 
thorough job of sabotaging the maintenance room.

The howl was lowering in pitch as the rush of air past their faces 
increased.  Roman's ears popped again as the pressure dropped.  Quark 
ran back into the maintenance room, cursing as he struggled to break 
the inner hatch free of the autolocks.  Roman stepped through to help 
him, but the hatch wouldn't budge.  Spotting the pairs of wing nuts 
that held each of the twelve autolock catches attached to the door and 
the wall, he immediately started loosening the first pair.

"Help me with these; Roman shouted, as he finished loosening the 
first set.

Arr!  We don't have much time, sir!  Perhaps another door?  ' "The 
others are too far!  And these doors are the heaviest!

Quark started on another pair of wing nuts as they heard the 
sickening crunch of bone.  Wide-eyed, they grabbed on tight to the 
hatch as the crunch was followed by a loud bang.  Mojo squawked once in 
surprise.

The windstorm started with a roar of air blowing past them.  All 
they could do was hold on to the door, hoping to avoid the fate of the 
maintenance engineer.

Their feet were lifted off the deck as the cold wind tore at their 
bodies.  Roman's ears popped again, painfully this time.

His breath rasped in his throat as he attempted to breathe and his 
fingers began to hurt from his intense grip on the cold metal.  He 
wasn't about to let go.  The grinning death face of the engineer stayed 
firmly fixed in his mind.

Roman heard a distant boom over the roar of the wind, then a 
vibration passed through the heavy steel door.  The wind lessened, and 
they dropped to the floor.  Roman's knees banged against the deck, but 
he didn't care.  He was just happy to be alive.

The problem now was air.  The oxygen supply continued to rush out 
into space, at a slower pace.

Rising to a kneeling position, Quark resumed working on the wing 
nuts that held the door captive.  He wasn't going to waste any breath 
on conversation.

Roman spotted an emergency locker down the hall.

Climbing unsteadily to his feet, he stumbled away, leaving Quark 
at work on the hatch.  They didn't have long before the air supply 
disappeared entirely.  Somewhere, another emergency door had closed, 
trapping them between a sealed door and the air leak in the maintenance 
room.

Roman hurled open the doors to the emergency locker and plunged 
inside.Among the fire extinguishers he found oxygen bottles and masks.  
Though the masks would leak air in a vacuum, they were better than 
nothing.

Quark was working on the last autolock catch when Roman returned 
and held an oxygen mask out to him.  Quark grabbed the mask and slapped 
it onto his face, 1ooping the rubber straps over his head.  By the time 
Quark's mask was secure, Roman had finished removing the wing nuts, 
telear.

ing the last catch.  Quark yanked on the hatch as Roman secured 
his own mask, but the door refused to budge.

Roman moved to the other side of Quark and slammed his shoulder 
against the back of the door as Quark pulled.

The door resisted their efforts.  Roman turned around and sat down 
with his back against the door, then pressed the soles of his boots 
against the wall, using the muscles in his legs to push on the hatch.

Accompanied by a loud screech, the hatch closed half way.  The 
sudden movement of the door caused Roman to drop flat on his back, 
bouncing his head off the deck plates.

Quark helped him stand, then pulled him through the hatchway into 
the corridor.  They reached through and yanked the heavy door shut 
behind them, then Quark spun the lever that bolted the locking pins 
into the frame of the hatchway.

The breeze and the whine of escaping air'ceased immediately.

They were safe for a moment, but Roman could still feel the oxygen 
being sucked out of his mask by the low pressure.

The firefighting gear had never been designed for use in a vacuum.  

He also noted that Mojo lay unconscious on Quark's shoulder.

As Quark began work on the autolock catches that held the 
secondary bulkhead door open, Roman sprinted down the corridor in 
search of some way to raise the air pressure in that section of the 
base.  He spotted a white oxygen line running along the wall, and he 
searched for a valve he could open.  He hoped he'd find one soon, since 
he was starting to get dizzy.  He was losing more oxygen around the 
edges of the mask than he was able to pull into his lungs.

When he found the valve, he cranked it open without a second 
thought.  A stream of high-pressure air screamed into the corridor.  
Roman turned around and ran back to see how Quark was doing.

Arr.  Did you have a nice run, sir?" Quark was leaning back 
against the closed secondary hatch.

"I got the air turned on, if that's what you mean; panted Roman.  
He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his right hand.

"Arr.  It'll be nice to keep breathing.  I don't mind telling you 
I was getting worried in there," said Quark, jabbing a thumb toward the 
maintenance room.  "I always prefer to keep me feet planted firmly on 
the deck."

Mojo was blinking and shaking his head."I've got a serious 
headache."

"Just be glad you've still got your head; said Quark."You could 
have been floating around outside without it: Roman walked over to the 
ladder they had used to reach this lower deck.  The hatch at the top 
was closed.  A blinking red light indicated that it was sealed, so they 
were trapped on the lower level until that hatch was opened from the 
other side."Looks like this is the one that sealed us in here.

Whoever sabotaged the maintenance room doors didn't get around to 
this one: "Arr.  Even the bad guys can't get good help these days.

What's the empire coming to?"

"That's exactly what I've been asking myself lately; said Roman."I 
don't suppose you have a plan for getting us out of here?"

The hatch light at the top of the ladder switched from flashing 
red to solid green and was accompanied by a whirring sound.

"How did you do that?, Roman asked.

Quark shrugged.  Wasn't me."

The hatch cycled open with a sigh of air due to the slight 
pressure difference between the decks.  Roman's ears popped again as he 
swallowed, and he hoped this was the last time.  He was getting an 
earache.

Ferrand stepped into view on the deck above and looked down the 
ladder.  when he saw Roman, he shook his head."I might have known it 
would be you: Out of the corner of his eye, Roman saw Quark sneaking 
away down the corridor.

Ferrand looked at someone on the upper deck and pointed down the 
ladder.  Arrest that man."

CHAPTER 10 ASCALON RIFT---SECTOR II--ar-1

"The maintenance room was sabotaged," said Roman, pacing in his 
small cell.

"You can't expect me to believe that; said Ferrand."You'll say 
anything to get yourself off the hook at this point.

Ferrand was standing outside Roman's cell, his hands clasped 
behind his back, judging Roman's actions with an unwavering scowl.  In 
the pattern of traditional military cells, the walls and ceiling were 
painted in a cheerful gray color that matched the stained sink, the 
toilet, and the lumpy cot.

Breaking with tradition, there were no bars on the cell, since 
that function was served by a charged magnetic field.  Any attempt the 
prisoner made to walk out of the cell would be met with the thrill of a 
high-voltage charge.  The shock would be enough to knock anyone 
unconscious for a few minutes.  Other than the view of the opposite 
cell, occupied by a shadowy figure sleeping on the cot, there were no 
windows to provide any distraction.

"The emergency systems in the maintenance room were all sabotaged 
by someone who knew what to do to destroy this base, even though they 
made some mistakes.  That also means that the maintenance engineer was 
murdered; said Roman.

"That's a serious accusation, Alexandria, and you have no proof.

"I don't have to prove anything.  This isn't a court of law.

"Not yet, you mean,said Ferrand, his voice dripping with menace.

"I'm just trying to tell you that there's a saboteur aboard this 
base.  If you have any sense, you'll start looking for that person 
before they strike again.  They might be successful next time.

"I've already caught the saboteur; said Ferrand, his eyes boring 
into Roman.And I'm looking at him right now.

I'm the one who saved this base while you had everyone else in the 
briefing room!"

A convenient story, but I'm afraid it's not clever enough to 
impress me.  You don't even have any witnesses.

Roman hesitated.  he knew he should mention Quark, but he was 
reluctant.  The pirate was more trustworthy than Ferrand, and maybe 
Quark had his reasons for sneaking off.

He was a mystery that Roman didn't want to reveal to Ferrand just 
yet.  For the same reason, Roman decided not to mention the note Krugon 
Dept had left to warn Quark.

"How could I have any witnesses?  You know everybody was with you 
in the briefing room.  The saboteur was probably sitting there 
listening to every word you said." Ferrand looked at his fingerwatch."I 
don't have time for this right now.  I need to be up in operations 
monitoring the rescue mission."

"Rescue mission?"

I've sent a strike group in after Commander Nishmar.

Intelligence officers were able to locate him aboard a Tancred 
cruiser on its way to Orentes.

"You're going to waste more of our ships on a rescue mission?  We 
need everyone here to defend this sector.

"Commander Nishmar knows the exact location of this base, as well 
as several of my mission plans.  Since we're going to lose ar-2 and 
ar-3 to the Tancreds, we can't make it any easier for them to find us 
here.  Commander Nishmar will either be rescued or the ship he's on 
will be destroyed.

"We're losing ar-2 and ar-3?" "Both bases have suffered heavy 
casualties.  Fortunately, our location should still be a secret unless 
Commander Nishmar has already had it tortured out of him." I think 
you're making a big mistake trying to rescue Nishmar.

"I don't know why I waste my time with you.  Enjoy your stay,' 
said Ferrand.

As Fe'and walked away, Roman sat down heavily on his cot.  Looking 
across the corridor, he noticed for the first time Blois Fulcher 
sitting there.

"I'm sorry to see you here, Roman." Blois looked as if he hadn't 
shaved in days.  He had bags under his eyes.

"Same here,said Roman."We were told you'd been reassigned 
somewhere else." That doesn't surprise me.  Ferrand wants to keep his 
plans quiet.  I'm sure he'll find a way to explain your sudden 
disappearance as well."

"I'd like to make Ferrand disappear.

"So, what brings you here, Roman?  Did you argue with Ferrand too much?"

"Sabotage.

Blois jerked his head back."What?"

"Ferrand thinks I sabotaged the maintenance room to destroy the 
base."

"What happened?"

"Ferrand doesn't like me.  I made the mistake of discovering the 
sabotage, so that gave Ferrand an added excuse to arrest me.

Blois sighed and looked down at the floor."Maybe you should have 
left it alone.  With the way Ferrand is running things, this base is 
going to be destroyed soon anyway.

"That doesn't sound like you, Blois.

"See how you feel after you've spent a few days down here.

Roman nodded in sympathy.  Blois might be right.  He looked 
terrible.  Anyway, with Hela gone, there didn't seem to be much point 
in worrying about the fate of aR-1."Has someone been feeding you?" 
Blois pointed at a slot on the wall.

"No need.  It's automatic.  Three nutritionally balanced meals a 
day come out of that little slot.  One of the miracles of modern 
technology.  Since there aren't any guards, Ferrand can keep us down 
here forever without anyone else knowing about it."

"I just wondered.  You look awful.

"Thanks.  I'm sure I look worse than I feel.

"During training, the manuals told us to maintain good hygiene and 
eat as well as possible if we were ever captured.

That way, you'll be ready if the chance for escape should arise.

Blois snorted."Obviously that was written by someone who had never 
been captured.  Certainly not by someone who had been captured by their 
own side.

"You have a point.  Just remember, you have a lot of friends on 
this base, Blois.

"Sure, a lot of friends who don't even know I'm here.  Who do you 
know that goes for strolls down by the detention cells?  Ferrand will 
tell everyone that you've been reassigned as well, and no one will 
guess that you're down here.

Roman hated to admit it, but he knew Blois was correct.

"I've had enough excitement for one day," Blois continued, as he 
lay down on his cot.  "I'm going back to sleep.

There had to be some way to stop Ferrand.  Roman couldn't stand to 
see Blois in such a beaten state.  He had always been a faithful 
booster of Gorene ideals, willing to spread Gorene culture and 
knowledge throughout the galaxy.

As far as that went, Roman himself had always felt the same way.  
It seemed that a cancer had struck the upper levels of the military 
command structure.  Now, expansion itself seemed to be the goal, 
whether or not the new races they met were crushed along the way.  
Ferrand had a lot of responsibility, but he couldn't operate in a 
vacuum.  If Ferrand appeared to be getting results,Admiral Shylo would 
support his actions.  If Shylo appeared to be getting results, the 
Gorene War Council and High Command would support Shylo's actions.  The 
opinions of the lower ranks didn't matter.

If you disagreed with the machinery of war, you were doomed to be 
ground up inside that machinery.

Roman lay back on his cot and wondered how the dim glow panels in 
the ceiling could have gotten stained to match the rest of the cell's 
dreary appearance.

Roman woke up from a deep sleep to the sound of a familiar voice 
nearby.

"Arr.  Sorry to wake you, sir, but perhaps you'll forgive me?

Roman blinked and stared up at the face of Quark looming over him.  

Disoriented, he tried to remember where he was.  Then he remembered.  
What was Quark doing inside his cell?

"Quark!  They got you, too?"

"Well, sir, not exactly.  I was just out for me evening stroll, 
you might say, when I came across this cell block.  I heard you 
snoring, so I thought I'd drop by and say hello."

"How did you get into the cell?"

"Oh, it's just a little something I picked up in my years as a 
pirate, sir.  Nothing to be concerning yourself about.

Roman pointed across the corridor.  "Can you get Blois out, too?"

"Arr.  You want me to wake him up?  He seems pretty peaceful."

"Please do.

Quark started to turn away, then he stopped and gave Roman a 
mischievous look."By the way, good sir?

Roman sat up on the cot and rubbed his eyes.  "Yes?"

There's someone else here who wants to see you: Okay; Roman said 
hesitantly.

Hela Selrase stepped into the room wearing her flight suit and a 
brilliant smile.  The bluestone was hanging around her neck on its gold 
chain, between her breasts.  Roman just stared at her with his mouth 
open as Quark left the room.  His throat constricted and his vision got 
fuzzy from the strange dampness in his eyes.  She put her fists on her 
hips and struck a pose.

"Is that the best you can do?  Hela asked.

Roman stood and scooped her into his arms.  "You're back,he said, his voice faint.

"So it would seem: They closed their eyes and kissed.  For the 
moment, nothing else mattered.

Blois cleared his throat, but Roman and Hela didn't hear him, 
Quark pinched Mojo, who squawked loud enough to startle everyone.  
Roman and Hela jumped apart.

"Don't worry," winked Blois.  I didn't see anything: Thanks, 
Blois," said Roman.  He smiled.

"Just try to keep a lid on it in public,said Blois.  I don't want 
to have to get the hose: "Okay,said Roman.  Blois was beginning to 
sound like his old self again.

Roman looked at Hela."What happened?  We thought you were killed 
so that Talmun and Merlock could made it back.

At least, that's what Ferrand told us: "Brool and I waited near 
the jump point with our cloaking devices on while Talmun and Mefiock 
escaped.  I guess the Tancreds didn't expect us to do anything that 
stupid, so they got real close before we decloaked and started 
shooting.

We got sixteen of them before it got too hot to stick around.  We 
both made the jump without losing too many pieces of our Liberators."

'Did any of the Tancreds follow you?"

"No.  We jumped to ar-2 first, then to the Mooris space dock.  
They did some repairs on our ships, then we jumped back here.  It's 
been a long trip.Then I find you've been up to no good while I was 
gone.  I just can't leave you alone for five minutes without you 
getting yourself into trouble, can I?"

I guess not,said Roman."So don't do it again: "Arr.  I'd keep an 
eye on him if I were you," Quark said with a wink."His parents were the 
same way--always getting themselves in trouble."

Roman noticed Quark's eyepatch had moved.  Now it was over his 
left eye.

"I see you've met the Captain," said Roman.  Then he realized that 
Quark had mentioned his parents.

Me too," said Mojo.  "Don't forget Mojo.  Everybody always forgets 
Mojo:

Roman stared at Quark.  "You knew my parents?"

"Arr, I pulled their heads out of the exhaust many a time, sir.  
They asked me to keep an eye on you, too--and that's a good thing since 
I've only got one," Quark said, pointing at his eyepatch as he made a 
combined chuckling and snorting noise.

"The Captain was waiting for us when we got back; said Hela, 
frowning at Quark's odd noises.  "He said something about wanting to 
check on how my bluestone was doing: Arr.  I wanted to make sure she 
hadn't lost ity said Quark, looking away to avoid Roman's gaze and 
further questions.

"Uh-huh," said Roman.  He couldn't help it--he liked Quark more 
each time he saw him.  And now he understood why Quark had been helping 
him so much.  His parents had never mentioned the pirate, but they 
tried not to talk about "business" when they were home.  He'd have to 
talk to Quark some more about his parents.

"This is all very entertaining," said Blois, "but I've been living 
in this hole for days, and I have things to do.  Could we get out of 
here?"

Commander Ferrand was having trouble with the pilots.

The mood in the briefing room was hostile, with a lot of grumbling 
and shouting.  He had already threatened them several times, but the 
grumbling continued.  He was disgusted--these pilots were supposed to 
be the best that the Gorene Empire had available.  With decent pilots, 
he wouldn't have the problems he was facing now.  Incompetent 
leadership among the lower ranks had led to numerous mistakes in 
executing his carefully thought out strategic plans.

The fall of the other two Ascalon Rift bases, four hours before 
the briefing, had not helped Ferrand's case with Admiral Shylo.  In 
addition, the death of Commander Nishmar, on the Tancred cruiser 
destroyed by the Gorenes, looked too much like a botched rescue 
mission.  His options for looking good in this campaign had become 
limited.  Removing Fulcher and Alexandria had helped to correct the 
situation, but too much damage had already been done.  The remaining 
pilots needed further motivation to go out again.  Judging by their 
current attitudes, a miracle would be required to turn the tide back in 
favor of the Gorenes.

Ferrand knew he was being watched by Admiral Shylo, the War 
Council, and the High Command.  If he could pull victory out of the 
jaws of defeat, as his father always used to say, then he still had a 
chance of coming through this campaign with a promotion and a shot at 
an admiral's collar.  He would explain every detail of the next mission 
so that even the stupidest pilots could understand, but first he needed 
to overcome their resistance.  It was too bad that Commander Nishmar 
had to be destroyed along with the tancred cruiser, for he would have 
been an excellent tactical officer who would not have argued with his 
orders.

"I will warn all of you one more time said Ferrand, glaring at the 
pilots.  "If you fail to carry out your mission instructions to the 
letter, I will personally shoot each and every one of you."

Ferrand smiled inwardly at the resulting shocked silence--he had 
finally found a way to motivate these impertinent pilots.  Sometimes an 
iron hand was required to demonstrate that he meant business.

"I see that got your attention.  From now on, we are in a state of 
red alert.  We believe that the ar-2 and ar-3 bases have been lost.  A 
medical transport ship has been dispatched to carry the casualties from 
both bases back to Prajna-7?

The crowd murmured in surprise.  Ferrand sighed--these were the 
biggest bunch of whiners he'd ever had the misfortune to meet.

Ferrand gestured at a holo-projection of a Gorene repair dock.  
"Tancred scouts have discovered the Mooris space dock where several of 
our ships are currently under repair.

Some of you know that Mooris is close to our current location, so 
it's only a matter of time before the Tancreds attack it.  I'm going to 
assign a strike group to defend the Mooris space dock and drive the 
Tancreds away.

Ferrand stopped abruptly as he saw Blois Fulcher and Roman 
Alexandria entering at the back of the briefing room.

He started to say something, but Fulcher beat him to it.

You couldn't keep me locked up, Ferrand.  You're finished, and I'm 
resuming command."

The stunned pilots turned around to look at Blois, followed by 
Roman, confidently striding down the aisle.

Everyone remain calm," said Blois.  Commander Fer-rand has been 
attempting to maneuver the Gold Squadron to its doom, but I'm not going 
to allow that.  Admiral Shylo has been apprised of the situation, and 
he supports my actions."

"That's ridiculous; said Ferrand, his fists clenched."I am your 
superior officer.

"Not anymore.  As you're so fond of reminding me, we all have to 
follow orders.  Admiral Shylo has replaced you.

Ferrand pointed at Blois, who was continuing down the 
aisle."Someone arrest those men!  They're lying!  They've escaped from 
their cells."

A general murmur started among the pilots, who looked back and 
forth from Blois to Ferrand, not knowing what was happening.

No one moved to arrest the new arrivals.  Ferrand's face turned 
red as he looked around in desperation."Someone stop them!"

Kayla Brool stood up and yelled at Ferrand.  Stop them yourself.

Ferrand could see that he'd lost control of the situation.

He startled everyone by sprinting up the side of the room.

ROman moved to stop him, but he was too late.  Ferrand was at the 
rear exit.

"We'll see about this,shouted Ferrand, shaking his fist.

I'll destroy all of you for defying my orders!

Blois yelled at Ferrand, who turned and ran."You already tried 
that, Ferrand!"

Roman raced out of the rear exit after the Commander.

Ferrand ran down the Corridor both their boots clanging on the 
steel deck plates.  Ferrand turned at the first intersection and ducked 
through a hatchway into a side passage, trying to control his 
breathing.  The clanging of Romaifs footsteps got louder, then stopped.

Ferrand backed up against the wall, controlling his breathing to 
remain silent.  He slid over behind the hatch and got a good grip--if 
Roman looked in, he could slam it on the insolent pilot's head.

Roman was getting closer, moving slowly.  Ferrand's fingers 
tightened on the cold steel of the hatch.  He placed his back flat 
against the wall for better leverage.

Then Ferrand relaxed as Roman jogged away.

Roman returned to the briefing room, cursing himself for losing 
Ferrand.  Blois was at the podium.  The pilots were still murmuring, 
but they were smiling.

"If I could have your attention, Admiral Shylo wishes to speak 
with you,said Blois.

Blois pressed a button on the podium.  A huge holo-projection of 
Admiral Shylo's head appeared over the stage.

His amplified voice was almost deafening as he spoke.

"Officers of ar-1, the recent events involving our forces are 
extremely unfortunate.  Commander Ferrand was an unfit leader, and he 
nearly cost you your lives.  For that, I apologize, but we cannot look 
upon this turn of events as a failure.

You performed exceptionally well despite tremendous adversity.  
Commander Ferrand's actions have led to deep hatred and chaos, but we 
must press on.  Because of Ferrand, the alien Alliance has declared a 
full state of war against us.

Until now, with some exceptions, each of the Alliance races seemed 
to be operating independently.  Our intelligence sources say they 
couldn't agree on how to respond to us.

Now, we have no choice but to fight this war...  and win."

shylo seemed to look at each pilot in turn.  Roman knew it was a 
practiced effect, but it gave him a spooky feeling.

"In time, the Gorene Empire will reign over this region, and our 
mission will be completed.  Perhaps the inhabitants here will trust us 
some day, but we can only achieve this dream if we have sound 
leadership grounded in impeccable moral character:' A brief smile 
appeared on Shylo's face.Toward that end, I hereby announce that Blois 
Fulcher will continue as Tactical Officer.  Roman Alexandria has been 
promoted to Sector Commander.

We are not in a position to lose the most skilled pilot in the 
Gorene forces, so Commander Alexandria must also act as wing leader.  
Under this leadership, we will prevail:' The pilots burst into 
applause, and Roman nodded in appreciation.  When the applause died 
down, Admiral Shylo continued.

'Officers and pilots of ar-1, we begin anew.  The odds are against 
us, so it's up to each of us to see our mission through, to expand the 
Gorene civilization to the edges of the known universe.  The alien 
Alliance in the Ascalon Rift presents the most formidable military 
force we have encountered, but we have the advantage.We have you, the 
elite officers of the Gold Squadron, and we have your dedicaton to the 
Gorene cause: The pilots applauded once more.  Blois and Roman joined 
in as well, smiling as Shylo's giant head faded from view.  A sense of 
relief flooded through Roman.  It seemed that he'd finally awakened 
from the nightmare that had been plaguing him since they arrived in the 
Ascalon Rift.  Perhaps they'd survive after all.

Blois addressed the crowd."CommanderAlexandria and I have some 
planning to do before we launch our next mission.

Our next briefing will be at oh nine hundred hours.

You are dismissed: As the officers rose to leave the room, Roman 
leaned over to whisper to Blois."We have to find Ferrand.  I couldn't 
catch him.  He can do a lot of damage out there on his own: 'He 
shouldn't be hard to find; said Blois.  We'll just listen for the 
alarms.

Roman followed Blois from the room, delayed only by people 
stopping him with their congratulations.  It felt odd to have people 
refer to him as Commander Mexandria, but it felt good and he was sure 
he would get used to it quickly.

Quark was waiting for them in the corridor.  Arr.  I suppose you 
gentlemen will be wanting to know where Ferrand went off to in such a 
hurry: "My guess is that he wants to leave ar-1 as quickly as possible, 
said Blois.

"Or he's in his office trying to talk his way out of this 
situation with Admiral Shylo," said Roman.

"He's already been to his office," said Quark."He spent a few 
minutes in there, then made his way down to the escape pod on that 
level."

"Then you're saying we've already lost him," said Blois.

His shoulders sagged.

Roman was surprised.  "Why didn't you try to stop him?" "Well, 
sir, I don't like to get physical with people when it's not absolutely 
necessary.  However, I think Ferrand will find that the escape pod 
doesn't go very far without a cockpit launch button.  He'll need a 
second person to launch the pod.  Arr."

Roman reacted first, sprinting down the corridor in the direction 
of the command-level escape pod bay.

"I suppose we should follow him," said Blois, watching Roman run 
away.

Arr.  We can't let the lad get himself in more trouble,' said 
Quark.

Ferrand was standing inside the cramped escape pod bay when Roman 
arrived.  The airlock doors were closed, but Roman could see him 
through the portholes.  Ferrand had discovered the problem Quark had 
created, which kept him from being able to launch the oval-shaped pod 
from the cockpit control panel.  Ferrand stood in the narrow gap 
between the pod and the wall of the bay, examining a control box set in 
the pod's hull by its entry hatch.  Roman guessed that he was trying to 
override the cockpit launch button, since he didn't have an assistant 
to launch the pod from the control panel by the airlock door.

Roman looked to his right.  The external launch system was simple, 
intended only as a backup.  The two airlock doors and the large pod bay 
door were each controlled by pairs of green and red buttons.  When the 
pod bay door was open and its green light was showing, the white launch 
button would glow to indicate that the ship was ready to leave.

Roman pushed the button to open the inner airlock door as Blois 
and Quark arrived in the corridor behind him.

I'm going in to get him; said Roman, as he stepped into the 
airlock.

"It's not safe; said Blois.

Before Blois could continue, the airlock door closed in his face.  
Roman had pushed the button to close it from inside the airlock.  With 
a nod through the porthole, Roman turned and walked out through the 
second door into the escape pod bay.

Ferrand looked up suddenly as Roman entered the bay.

"Surrender yourself, Ferrand.  There's no place for you to go." 
Ferrand drew a laser pistol and pointed it at Roman.

"We'll see about that: You need to discuss your problems with 
Admiral Shylo.

There might be a graceful way out of this for you." Oh, there's a 
graceful way out, all right Ferrand sneered.

But Admiral Shylo isn't going to help me.  He has his own agenda.  
He knows I've failed and that I made him look bad, too." Roman took one 
step forward.You don't need to go like this: "You're 
mistaken,Alexandria.  No matter how you try to trick me, this is a 
mutiny, and that means I can kill you.

Roman detected an edge of hysteria in Ferrand's voice.

Roman tried to remain calm and relaxed so as not to spook 
Ferrand."This is not a mutiny.  Admiral Shylo has relieved you of duty.  

You're unfit for command."

This is a mutiny!  You'll all be court-martialed!  Ferrand's hand 
was shaking.  His knuckles were white as he gripped the gun.

"Give yourself up, Ferrand.  You need help.

"No!  You're trying to ruin me!  I've endured too much in my 
career to be destroyed by the likes of you!"

"Listen to yourself.  You're not being rational.  Give me the gun 
before someone gets hurt."

Ferrand blinked, then smiled at Roman.  You're right.

You're absolutely right.

Roman tensed.  He didn't like the sound of that.

Ferrand fired.

Roman dove to his right, barely avoiding the lance of red light 
from the laser pistol.  The deadly beam passed through the space where 
Roman had been standing and burned a smoking crater into the wall.

Get up, you coward!  Ferrand fired a second time, but Roman rolled 
toward the open airlock door and avoided the shot.

Blois's voice boomed out of the intercom speaker near the door.  
stop it, Ferrand!"

The distraction gave Roman enough time to dive back into the 
airlock and punch the button to close the door between him and Ferrand.  

As the door moved, a laser shot burned the floor next to his foot.

Ferrand charged forward and beat on the airlock door as it 
closed."Come back here!"

The door boomed repeatedly as Ferrand struck his fists against the 
metal.  Ferrand's wild-eyed face pressed against the glass of the 
porthole.  As soon as he saw Roman standing, Ferrand brought the tip of 
the laser pistol up against the glass and laughed.

Roman slammed his body back against the wall to avoid the shot he 
knew would penetrate the glass, but a vibration suddenly shook the deck 
and startled Ferrand.  Roman glanced at the porthole again in time to 
see Ferrand twist away in horror as the outer bay door started to open.

A moment later, with a sudden rush of escaping air, Ferrand 
bounced along the deck and sailed out through the partially opened bay 
door.  Ferrand tumbled end over end into the black void of space, 
leaving the base safely behind.

When the airlock door opened, Blois had his hand on the control 
panel, and Quark was leaning against the wall shaking his head.

'Arr.  You flyboys have all the fun said Quark.

CHAPTER 1 1 ASCALON RIFT---SECTOR IImAR-1 By exercising his new rank as sector commander, Roman arranged a 
full hour alone with Hela in the observation dome.  Surrounded by 
stars, they sat and held each other in the dim light, happy to be alive 
together.  The air felt cool, but their bodies were warm as they 
pressed against each other.  Roman no longer doubted his feelings for 
Hela.  He wanted to leave behind the constant fighting and settle down 
on some quiet planet where they could enjoy each other's company.  The 
key would be surviving that long.

Roman held Hela's face in his hands and kissed her.

She smiled.

"Can that happen, Roman?  Can all those things really happen?" 
Ferrand is gone.  Maybe the Alliance will realize that we're an 
honorable people now." Hela looked down, taking his hands in hers.  I 
think it's too late.  They've already seen what the Gorenes are like.  
If we were in their position, we'd be fighting the Gorenes, too: They 
just don't understand,' said Roman, turning his head to look out at the 
stars.  "They've only seen the violent side of the Gorene way.  They 
think that's all we are." We should go and show them they're wrong,said 
Hela.

'They've already made up their minds, Hela.  We tried sending an 
emissary to the Tancreds when the Queln were defeated.  Bowman didn't 
even have a chance to finish his peace message before they killed 
him:

Hela frowned.  How do you know that?"

'Ferrand had the cockpit transmission that was relayed to the 
Intruder.  Blois and I watched the holo a little while ago.

Hela's mischievous eyes glittered as she looked at Roman.

We could make contact with the Alliance.  Someone other than the 
Tancreds.  Krugon Dept was able to get through: We don't know that for 
sure, Hela.  Nobody heard from Dept again after he defected near 
Orentes.  The Tancreds probably killed him.

"Maybe he talked to the Zemuns first.  They seem more rational 
than the Tancreds.  The Zemuns have had chances to kill both of us in 
battle, but they haven't done it.

'That's just speculation.  We have no way of knowing who Dept 
contacted:

Quark knows:

Roman's eyes widened.What?

"Quark said Krugon's okay.  He probably knows more than that, but 
he wouldn't tell me any more.

Roman frowned and looked toward the stars."I suppose that's 
possible.  Quark's an intelligence officer.  He has contacts 
everywhere.  And Dept left him that warning about the bomb in 
maintenance, so I assume they know each other.

"Dept left him a note?"

"Well, it was a warning, but it wasn't specific.  Maybe Dept 
thought Quark would interfere with the bomb, which makes me feel 
better.  What worries me is that Dept wanted to kill the rest of us.

"Maybe not," said Hela.  "Maybe he left the note so that Quark 
would get help to disarm it.

Roman paused for a moment, then nodded.  "Possible.

Quark said the note had been stuck to his back for a day before 
Mojo told him about it.  So, why did Dept do it?"

"Maybe he wanted to tell the Alliance he'd planted a bomb here so 
they'd know he really wanted to defect.  They could verify it with a 
truthscan.  He left the note with Quark so that no one would get 
killed.

"We're assuming a lot of good will on the part of the people who 
are trying to kill us."

Hela snorted."They're only trying to kill us because we're invading their territory and trying to kill them.

"Well, yes, that's one way to look at it."

Hela looked deeply into Roman's eyes.  He felt his face getting 
warm."We should try to help the Alliance, Roman.  I don't think Ferrand 
was the only problem.  This whole attitude of conquest at any cost 
comes from the top down."

Help them?  How?"

Her eyes didn't move."There must be a way.

'But--" Roman was startled by a knock at the door.  He looked at 
Hela, then walked over to the door and opened it a crack.

Blois was standing in the corridor with a serious expression.

"I need to see you in my office before the briefing, Roman.  
There's been a change in plan.

I'll be right there,said Roman.  As Blois walked away, Roman 
turned to look at Hela.  She smiled and waved him on, but he couldn't 
leave that quickly.  As she stood, he walked over and hugged her.

"Duty calls; he said.

It always does.  Maybe we can stop accepting those calls some day.

Roman kissed her.Some day soon, I hope.

Blois Fulcher stood facing the assembled Gold Squadron officers in 
the briefing room.  His face was grim.  Roman stood off to one side 
near Blois.  Only a few minutes earlier, they had received disturbing 
reports from their field intelligence units, altering the plans that 
Roman and Blois had been devising for the next missions.

"The Tancreds have struck a ruthless blow against us; said 
Blois."There has been a terrible tragedy.  In response to our attack on 
the Tancred freighter Kuntow, one of our medical transport ships, 
dispatched to carry casualties from ar-2 and ar-3 to Prajna-7, was 
attacked by a tancred fighter squadron.  The ship was clearly marked, 
and there were no survivors.  Two hundred and twenty more Gorenes are 
dead at the hands of a brutal enemy.

The crowd gasped in surprise.  Roman knew they were thinking of 
their friends who had been lost.  He had known many of the Bronze 
Squadron pilots himself, having spent two weeks training them in Queln 
battle tactics before they arrived in the Ascalon Rift.

"We have also received updates regarding the condition of our 
forces in the Ascalon Rift.  The surprise attack in this sector was 
devastating, and our forces are at an all-time low.

Intelligence sources have discovered that some of our pilots were 
captured during the massacre at ar-2 and ar-3.They have been taken 
captive and are being held on the prison world of Xeridun.

A large holo-projection of Xeridun appeared over Blois's head.  
Glittering satellites were visible in orbit around the planet.  Vast 
areas of white covered the planet's surface.

"We have to rescue our fellow pilots,Blois continued.

Commander Alexandria will assemble a small team for this mission.  
Our first objective will be to attack the Maz-urea patrol ships 
guarding the region.  Our second objective will be to destroy the 
series of orbiting satellites.

These satellites generate a containment force field that prevents 
any object from leaving the planet's atmosphere.

With the destruction of the satellites, we can drop the force 
field and wreak havoc on Xeridun.  Commander Alexandria's infiltration 
team will jump in from a shuttle with repellor chutes, locate the 
prisoners, and evacuate them to the lift zone for shuttle transport to 
a captured Tancred freighter.  Any questions?"

Stas Kemp held up his hand.  Blois acknowledged him.

Judging by that image of the planet, there seems to be a lot of 
ice on Xeridun: Yes, Xeridun is quite cold.  I'm sure that those of you 
who are fortunate enough to go on the recovery mission will see enough 
snow and ice to last you a lifetime.Your environment suits will protect 
you from the worst of the weather, but I wouldn't look forward to it 
being a comfortable journey: Shyke Samso held up his hand.  "Sir, some 
of us have never had to make a repellor chute jump before.

"It's not hard.  You just fall out of a shuttle and plummet toward 
the ground.

Uh, yes, sir, but....

There was scattered laughter among the pilots.

A brief smile flashed across Blois's face."Commander alexandria 
knows who has been trained for this type of mission.

Very few of you have experience in this area, but we don't have 
time to wait for specialists.  We'll just have to make do with the 
people we have available.  Those captured pilots must be rescued 
quickly, Or not at all.

Lanthor Metlock waved at Blois as if he'd thought of something 
that would solve all of their problems.  Sir, why don't we just bomb 
Xeridun?  If they're all criminals and military types on the surface, 
we could soften things up considerably before the infiltration team 
goes in.

True," Blois nodded,"but we don't know where our captured pilots 
are being held.  I'm sure you wouldn't want to just bomb everything and 
let our fellow pilots look out for themselves."

"No, sir; said Merlock.

Our infiltration team must use wit and stealth to achieve their 
objectives on the prison planet.  I'm sure Commander Alexandria has 
chosen the wittiest and stealthiest among you to accompany him on this 
mission.

Blois pressed a button.  The image of the prison planet was 
replaced with the image of the Mooris space dock, which they had seen 
at the previous briefing.

"This should look familiar," said Blois.  "As the former Commander 
Ferrand told you earlier, Tancred scouts have discovered our Mooris 
deep-space repair dock.  Mooris is close to our current location, and 
we're sure the Tancreds will attack it soon.  Many of you will be 
assigned to the strike group that will defend the Mooris perimeter.  
However, your main objective in this action will be to destroy any 
long-range Tancred or Zemun scouts that appear to be headed toward 
ar-1.  The secrecy of this base's location must be maintained.

Blois chose his next words carefully."To plan for the possible 
loss of ar-1, CommanderAlexandria and I have also discussed scouting 
and probe missions to find a good location for a secondary base.  Of 
course, these scouting missions won't occur until we have enough 
personnel available.

What about Prajna-7?  gayla Brool asked.

"Prajna-7 is not in a stage of completion where we can use it as 
our base of operations," said Blois."It also has the highest level of 
security, so if there's a choice, we will sacrifice this base to 
preserve the secrecy of Prajna-7's location.

Establishing a secondary base will also give the Alliance another 
obstacle to overcome before they can reach Prajna-7: Blois looked 
around the room, wondering which of these expectant faces he would see 
at the next briefing.  The missions were becoming much more dangerous.  
It was counterproductive to think that way, but he couldn't help being 
concerned for his pilots.

"If there are no further questions, Commander Alexandria will give 
you the mission assignments.  Good hunting.

Roman rushed out of his private meeting with Blois to meet his 
commando team in the shuttle bay.  The first reports were that the 
assault on Xeridun was going well.  The Mazuma patrol ships that 
guarded the approaches to Xeridun were rapidly being eliminated by the 
Gorene fighters.

A second team of Liberators was hard at work on the ring of 
satellites that created the containment field around the prison planet.  

By the time Roman and his ground infiltration team arrived, the 
Gorenes should have control of the Xeridun perimeter.

Selecting the members of the Xeridun ground team had been one of 
the most difficult decisions Roman had ever been forced to make during 
his career.  Intelligence reports were unclear as to the exact 
concentration of military units and criminal elements on the surface of 
Xeridun.  They.had to assume that the entire population on the prison 
planet would be hostile.  The location of the Gorene prisoners was 
still a mystery as well.  Although the intelligence unit believed it 
knew where the central prisoner processing facility was located, the 
intended fate of the Gorene prisoners was uncertain.

There were too many unknowns for Roman to be happy with the 
situation.

Members of the ground team had been selected for a variety of 
reasons.  Only one of them,Adoth Havenshire, had any experience in 
covert ground operations, having been part of an intelligence unit 
during the Armedia Queensway campaign.  Trained as pilots instead of 
ground troops, such experience among the officers at ar-1 was in short 
supply.

All of them had received some form of basic ground training, but 
these skills had never been put to use in actual battle.  Roman and 
Blois could only guess at how each of the team members would respond in 
this situation.  They could only hope that they were right about who 
they chose.

Roman had one glimmer of hope.  Quark had stuck a cryptic message 
inside Roman's helmet stating that help might be found among the 
residents of Xeridun.  Roman didn't know how the Xeridun criminals 
could help him, but he'd accept it if they did.  After he read the 
message, the white paper turned black, triggered by the heat of his 
fingers.

Flash paper was often used by the intelligence officers, as it 
immediately destroyed itself.  He was lucky he'd seen it before putting 
on his helmet, since the heat from his head would have blackened the 
message before he'd had a chance to read it.

 As Roman turned a corner near the shuttle bay, he almost ran into 
Heh.  He was surprised to see her angry expression.

"Where do you think you're going without me, Roman?"

"Xeddun.  I couldn't take everybody.

"Kayla said she's going with you.  So is Kara Helmar.  How many other women are on this mission?"

"That's all of them:

"You've been avoiding me ever since the briefing.  Is it because 
I'm not invited?"

Roman sighed."We're not going to a party, Heh.  This is a ground 
assault: 'Then why didn't you ask me to go?  You know I had Special 
Forces training, even though I decided to become a pilot later on."

"Well, you're needed elsewhere.  We can't assign you to 
everything: "But I have training for this kind of operation, which is 
more than I can say for some of your team members.  Or is it that you 
want some private time with Brool?"

"You can't be in two places at once, Hela.  You're assigned to 
lead the defense of the Mooris space dock;' Roman ignored the Brool 
comment, hoping she'd drop it as a ridiculous notion.

"I want to go with you, Roman.You need me?

Yes, I need you, but not on this mission."

Hela looked down at her feet.  "You shouldn't let your personal 
feelings influence my assignments.  I'm qualified to land on Xeridun.

Roman lifted her chin with his right hand so he could look into 
her eyes.  You're also qualified to lead the defense of Moods.  If the 
Alliance gets past Mooris, they'll find ar-1, and we won't have a base 
to land on when we return from Xeridun.  Do you see how important that 
is?  It's just as dangerous as the Xeridun mission."

"You should have assigned Lawton to Mooris.

Lawton had to lead the strike group on the Xeridun perimeter.

Hela put her right hand on his forearm."I don't care.  I want to 
go with you, Roman."

"Why are you in such a rush to get killed?"

I realized something on my last mission; said Hela, unable to look 
at Roman directly."I want to be with you all the time.  That way, if we 
get killed, we have a better chance of going together.

Roman couldn't meet her eyes either."I understand what you're 
saying, but it doesn't make any sense.  If you were in my position, I 
think you'd be trying to protect me as much as you could.  I'd love to 
be with you all the time, but not if it increases the chance of losing 
you."

Hela put her arms around Roman's waist and pressed herself firmly up against him."I can't change your mind?"

"Not right now.  Maybe next time."

"I must be losing some of my feminine wiles if you can say no that 
easily.

Roman smiled and stroked her dark hair.  "Believe me, it's never 
easy to say no to you.  In fact, I think this is the first time I've 
been able to manage it."

Hela cocked her head as she thought back."You know, I think you're 
right." She kissed him, then took a step back and saluted.  "You're 
out of my crosshairs this time, Commander Alexandria, but don't let it 
happen again."

Roman returned her salute.  "Try not to get lost on your way back 
this time, Selrase.  Tardiness will result in a note for your personnel 
file.

Hela shook her arms in an unconvincing display of fear.

"Look at me, I'm frightened:' "And I might have to punish you," 
said Roman, shaking his index finger at her.

Hela waggled her eyebrows and gave him a sexy smile.

"Now you're talking."

The bulky form of Shyke Samso appeared at the end of the corridor 
near the shuttle bay.  His helmet was under his arm."Ah, there you are, 
sir.  We're all ready to leave."

Roman cleared his throat."Very good, Samso."

I'll do as you ordered, sir.  You just remember to keep an eye on 
Brool," said Hela, as she gave Roman a quick salute and walked off down 
the corridor.

Roman spent a happy moment watching Hela walk away, wondering 
briefly about her Brool remark.  Then he jogged the rest of the 
distance to the shuttle bay for the ride out to the captured Tancred 
freighter.

fiSCALON RIFT--SECTOR V--XERIDUN

Roman felt uneasy as the shuttle left the former.Tancred freighter 
in orbit around Xeridun.  He didn't like not being able to fly the 
shuttle himself, though he couldn't do that and jump out with his 
infiltration team.  The loss of control bothered him.  He'd already had 
to trust the Gorene freighter pilot all the way from ar-1 to Xeridun, 
through an active battle zone, in the hope that they would arrive 
without getting blown up by a Mazuma patrol ship.  Without his own 
hands on the ship's controls, he felt utterly defenseless.  The lack of 
windows in the shuttle's cabin only made it worse He couldn't verify 
for himself that the Mazuma threats had been eliminated.

Roman watched as his team members prepared themselves for the drop 
to the surface of the prison world.  The five of them moved in silence, 
subdued by thoughts of the coming jump and the events that would 
follow.  As some checked their equipment against the inventory list, 
others readied their repellor chute units, reassuring themselves that 
the chutes had a reasonable chance of opening on the way down to the 
planet's surface.  They were bringing enough food and equipment to 
survive against a small army for three days, even though they might 
only be on the surface of Xeri-dun for about twelve standard hours, if 
everything went well.

The freighter and its shuttle would wait in orbit for Roman's 
retrieval signal.  The shuttle would not land due to the hazardous 
nature of the local inhabitants.  There would be little point in 
arranging a comfortable arrival for the ground team if the shuttle were 
to be captured or destroyed in the process.  Therefore, each team 
member would jump from the hovering shuttle at ten thousand feet above 
Xeridun's surface.  The laser rangelrmding units in their chutes would 
trigger each person's repellot field at the proper altitude, providing 
each of them with a soft landing.

Kara Helmar was the first to suit up.  The combat environment suit 
was made of a form-fitting, reflective material that would deflect a 
low power or glancing laser hit.  In the event of a solid object 
striking the suit, the flexible fabric would harden in an instant to 
protect the wearer from the impact.  When necessary, the suit could be 
pressurized.  Heating and cooling tubes were woven into the inner 
layers of the material to keep the occupant comfortable over a wide 
range of temperatures.  All bodily fluids were recycled by a small unit 
at the base of the spine to generate drinking water, which was stored 
in pockets throughout the suit for emergency use.  Gases inside the 
suit were also filtered and recycled.

Horus Klep, the smallest member of the team, had easily slipped 
through the straps and attached the repellot chute to the back of his 
suit.  Samso had strapped Klep's equipment beneath the chute, then 
moved on to help Helmar with her load.  Since the surface of Xeridun 
was almost all white, Klep had slipped into his camouflage gear, 
composed of a white coverall and a white helmet that locked into the 
suit's collar.

The himbering bulk known as Adoth Havenshire loomed over Klep and 
tapped the top of his helmet.  Klep looked up at Havenshire and opened 
his faceplate so he could hear what the blonde giant had to say in his 
booming bass voice.

This is being your first jump, yes?"

That's right," said Klep.  As usual, he was having a hard time 
trying to place Havenshire's accent and his creative use of the 
language.

'You are going to be hitting the ground very hard, yes?

Please be trying not to be landing onAdoth, okay?"

Uh, sure.  Why do you say that?"

Havenshire tapped Klep's white coverall where it covered the 
repellor chute.  Klep looked around at the others and noticed that he 
was the only one actually wearing the white coverall.  It slowly dawned 
on him that perhaps he'd been a bit premature in getting completely 
dressed for the mission.

"Let me guess,' said Klep, indicating his coverall.  q don't put 
this on until we're on the ground."

That is being entirely up to you, Horus.  But if you are covering 
up your chute with the camouflage, you will surely make a big 
impression on the ground when you land: 'Thanks for the 'tip, 
Havenshire." Klep quickly removed the coverall and bundled it into his 
pack as the others were doing.  q'm glad you noticed."

Havenshire barked a laugh."Oh, I am thinking we all no-riced, but 
it was polite to wait and be seeing if you would be figuring it out on 
your own."

"I see.  Thanks," said Klep, feeling like an idiot.

"Not a problem being.  Perhaps you will be doing something similar 
for me soon in time."

Havenshire turned around to allow Kayla Brool to help strap on his 
equipment pack, which was the heaviest of all.

She handled the weight of the pack as if she could have carried it 
hundreds of kilometers herself.

As Roman moved through the shuttle double-checking the power 
condition and placement of everyone's repellot chutes, he moved them 
into a neat line by the rear door of the shuttle.  When they were over 
the target zone, the clamshell doors would open and they would each 
walk down the ramp to step off and plummet toward the surface of 
Xeridun.

First in line was Adoth Havenshire, the experienced jumper in the 
group, who would hit the ground first so as to avoid endangering the 
others by landing on them with his great bulk.  The second jumper was 
the statuesque Kayla Brool, whose long brown hair was tucked neatly 
into the back of her helmet.  Roman noted that she seemed quite calm 
about the jump.  The sturdy Shyke Samso was next in line, tightening 
the straps that held his equipment pack.

Samso also gave the impression that this was the sort of thing he 
did every day.  Kara Helmar was next; she seemed calm except that she 
was breathing hard and staring at the ceiling.  Finally, Horus Klep was 
trying to distract himself by .looking at the reflection of his face on 
the left sleeve of his environment suit.

Roman brought up the rear, where he could keep an eye on the rest 
of them in case anything went wrong.  They were on the night side of 
the planet, but the two moons in the sky would provide more than enough 
light.  Roman could track their reflective suits with the night-vision 
system in his helmet's faceplate.

The sound of the door buzzer broke the tense silence, then the 
clamshell doors opened with a smooth motion, revealing only darkness 
swirling with windblown snow.  The ramp extended out into the black 
void as if it were a diving board over a backyard pool.

Havenshire looked over his shoulder and nodded at the rest of the 
group.It's been being a real pleasure knowing all of you people indeed: 
"Same here; said Roman, marveling that Havenshire's voice still managed 
to boom over the environment suit's radio.

Most voices sounded thin and nasal through the tiny speakers in 
the helmets."And we look forward to seeing you safely on the ground.  
So, if you don't mind, you're holding up traffic."

Havenshire grinned, waved, and took a running jump down the ramp.  
As his body vanished from view, Brool glanced back at Roman.  "Are you 
sure we're over the drop zone?  I'd hate to think I was following Adoth 
into the mouth of an active volcano or something: Roman pointed at the 
blinking green light over their heads."Unless our shuttle pilot is 
working for the enemy, we should be hovering dead center over the 
target."

"An unfortunate choice of words, but I'm happy to pitch my body 
out into space at your command; said Brool, taking four quick steps and 
doing exactly that.

Samso shrugged at Roman, walked down the ramp, and hopped out of 
sight.

Kara Helmar was still staring at the ceiling, as if she wasn't aware of the activity around her.

"Kara?  It's your turn," said Roman.

When she didn't respond, Roman gently placed a hand on her 
shoulder and shook it.  Helmar looked at him with wide eyes.

Are you okay, Kara?"

"Well, no, not exactly," she said.  "It's safe to do this, right?

I mean, these repellor chutes actually work?"

"They'd better; said Roman,"or I'll get really ticked off: "Have 
you used them before?"

"Hundreds of times.  Never had a problem," he lied.  In fact, he'd 
used repellor chutes on exactly two previous occasions.  They had their 
idiosyncracies, but they worked.

That seemed to reassure her.  "Okay: Roman lifted his hand from 
Helmar's shoulder.  She took ten small steps and stopped at the edge 
of the ramp, straining to see anything in the darkness below.

"How long of a drop is it?"

"About ten thousand feet; said Roman.  "No big deal.  It's as easy 
as falling off a log:

'What a strange expression," she said.

"I heard it somewhere a long time ago."

Helmar nodded, then bent over at the waist.  Roman was tempted to 
rush forward and push her off the ramp, but managed to restrain 
himself.

Roman looked at Klep, who was patiently waiting his turn.  "Horus, 
would you mind?"

The sound of Roman's voice startled Klep, who also seemed quite 
tense.  "Sir?"

'Jump with Helmar.  Just don't fall with her.  Push off early: 
Klep nodded and moved down the ramp to stand beside Helmar.  Roman's 
request actually gave him something to do, so he felt better about his 
impending doom.  Klep reached out and touched her shoulder.

Helmar swatted at his arm."Don't push!"

'I'm not pushing.

Helmar took another swat at Klep but lost her balance.

With a squeak, she vanished from sight.

"Good work, Klep:

Klep shrugged."I didn't do anything."

"Never mind.  Get moving.  We can't stay up here all night.

'Yes, sir' said Klep, stepping out into the void.

Roman was alone.  He checked that his pack was securely attached, 
walked down the ramp, and switched on his night-vision system.  The 
blackness was replaced with a greenish glow of amplified light, showing 
the rest of his group plummeting toward the surface of Xeridun.  No 
matter what happened, they were committed to this mission, and Roman 
was responsible for their lives.

Roman took two deep breaths and dove off the ramp into the 
darkness.

CHAPTER 12 ASCALON RIFt---SECtOR V--XERIDUN

Roman had experienced weightlessness many times, but he preferred 
to have the sensation within the comforting confines of a Gorene 
fighter.  When he had a choice, he preferred the safe artificial 
gravity of a Gorene base, although he did enjoy the stimulating head 
effects generated by high-G maneuvers in his fighter.  The ten thousand 
foot descent through the darkness seemed to take forever, and he had to 
keep looking down to reassure himself that the surface of the planet 
wasn't getting too close too soon.  He had attempted to count the other 
team members below him several times, but he could never find more than 
three at once.

One of the missing persons was probably Havenshire, the first to 
jump, who could already be on the ground.  Roman certainly didn't want 
to think about the possibility of having lost one of his team members 
so early in the mission.

Despite all his faith in the technology, Roman was relieved when 
he felt the sudden pressure of the repellor chute slowing his descent.  
Having continually measured the separation between Roman and the 
surface of the planet with its laser range finder, the chute's little 
computer brain had decided it was time to slam on the brakes if its 
human cargo was to survive the landing.  It had already made a number 
of calculations on the way down, adjusting its timing according to 
gravitational effects, wind velocity, surface texture, atmospheric 
density, and other factors that could make the difference between a 
perfect landing or a messy impact for Roman.  Early models of the 
repellor chutes had also been given the ability to talk to 
their"passengers: announcing the altitude and other factors to keep the 
passenger informed during freefall, but this had proved to be so 
disconcerting that the talking feature was removed from later models.

The chute's buzzer notified Roman that his landing was about to 
take place.  He quickly bent his knees and put his feet together, but 
the landing in the snow was quite gentle.  He switched off the chute by 
slapping the quick-release clasp on his chest, only to drop another two 
feet into the soft snow, pitching forward onto his face.  The laser 
range finders still had occasional problems judging the depth of snowy 
surfaces, which was why Roman now found himself face .down on the snow.  

Roman mused that this was not the best possible defensive posture if 
hostile forces were nearby.

A large hand gripped Roman's right arm and hauled him to his feet.

"Your chute tricked you too, I am seeing," said Haven-shire."Mine 
was dumping me much in four snowy feet."

"We'll send nasty letters to the manufacturer when we get back; Roman promised.  "Did the others get down okay?"

"All are being down except for Klep.We are not seeing him.

Roman frowned."Klep is missing?"

Roman turned slowly and awkwardly in the snow, making a full scan 
of the horizon.  Visibility was limited, even with his night vision.  
The wind was blowing the dry, powdery snow into deep drifts, any of 
which could obscure Klep's body from Roman's view.

"Not seeing?" Havenshire asked.

Roman tongued his suit radio switch to the team broadcast 
position."Klep, can you hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where are you?"

"I'm not sure.  I don't think I've landed yet."

"You don't think you've landed?  You jumped before I did," said 
Roman.

Sorry, sir.  I'm still in the air."

It didn't make any sense.  Klep had to be on the ground.

Roman looked up at the sky, wishing the snow would stop so he 
could get a clear view.  They appeared to be on a flat rocky surface, 
covered in snow, that was unobstructed by trees or other vegetation.

"Havenshire, where did everyone else come down?"

Havenshire gestured toward the north."Over that way."

Roman took several steps north, trying to get used to the unstable 
feel of the snow under his boots.  He scanned the sky again and caught 
a glimpse of a dark shape suspended overhead.

"Klep?"

Sir?"

"You still haven't reached the ground?"

Klep cleared his throat.  "No, sir."

"I think I've spotted you.  I'm standing about twenty feet 
directly beneath you."

"If you say so, sir.  I can't see a thing.

Have you got your night-vision system turned on?"

No.  I forgot," said Klep.  There was a brief pause."There?

"Can you see me?" Roman switched on the tiny flashlight on his 
right wrist and waved at Klep.

"Yes, if you're the one with the light.

Brool and Samso walked up beside Havenshire.

"What's going on?" Brool asked.

"Klep is being hanging in sky; said Havenshire.

Samso was surprised."How?"

"Being a chute problem would be my guessing."

"Blasted rangefinders,said Samso.  Can't trust them.

Klep kicked his feet."What should I do?"

"You're only twenty feet up," said Roman.Hit your release.

"I can't!  I'll break my legs!"

"You won't break your legs.  We're standing in deep snow," said 
Roman.

"Come on," said Samso."Stop whining and break your legs like a 
man, Klep.  We don't have time to build a house here.

"Just bend your knees and keep your feet together,said Roman.  
"You'll be fine.

"Okay.  Coming down said Klep.

Roman took a few steps back.  A moment later, Klep plunged into 
the snow and disappeared.

Roman started toward the Klep-shaped hole in the snow.

"Klep?"

Brool stepped over and peered into the hole.  {rnere did he go?

"I think my legs are broken,said Klep.

Roman knelt next to the hole and looked down.  "Stop fooling 
around and get up here,"

"I'm serious," said Klep."I can't move my 
legs.  My feet hit something hard.  A rock, maybe.  And I can't see: 
Roman turned on his wrist light.  Klep had somehow found a deep fissure 
in the snow, and Roman could see the top of his shiny helmet about ten 
feet down in the shaft of light.

"Okay, I can see you, Klep.  We'll be right with you.

Havenshire lay down on his chest in the snow next to Roman and 
dropped the end of a rope down to Klep.  "To be grabbing rope, Klep.

Klep felt around until he had the end of the rope in his gloved 
hand.  "Got it:

We're going to haul you up; said Roman."Ready?"

'If you're giving me a choice, no.  I'm afraid to move my legs.

Samso sighed heavily."Oh, let's just leave him here.

Helmar walked up beside Roman.  She was carrying two repellor 
chutes."I heard Klep say his legs were broken, so I thought these might 
come in handy.  If we use two together, the chutes might hold Klep up 
off the ground enough so that we can tow him along behind us.

"Like a balloon,said Samso.  He'll make a good target that way.

"It's either that or we leave him here,said Roman.

Havenshire hauled Klep out of the hole, then stood and began 
coiling the rope as Klep lay like a beached fish.  From the way Klep 
was gritting his teeth, they could see he was feeling a lot of pain.

Roman gently ran his hands along Klep's lower legs.

They felt like they were broken.  "Klep, can you activate your 
painkillers?"

"How do I do that?"

"Use the tongue switch on the left side of your helmet and press 
down.

"Got it.  You're not going to leave me here, are you?"

"Not while I'm in charge.  Helmar had a good idea.  We'll just tow 
you along behind us.

"You'll make a dandy balloon,said Samso.

"We can't leave him here," said Roman.  "It's too dangerous.

For all we know, the locals might dismember Klep if they found 
him."

Klep smiled briefly."That doesn't sound so bad.

"Hmm,said Roman.  "Sounds like the painkillers are working."

"Very nicely.  Lovely things, those painkillers,said Klep.

"And the nanobots in the painkillers should start repairing your 
broken bones pretty soon,said Brool.I love those little guys.  I broke 
my hand once, and the nanobots had it back to normal within a few 
days."

Helmar and Havenshire put Klep into his white coverails, then 
strapped the two repellor chutes to Klep's back.  When they were 
switched on, the chutes were confused enough by the presence of a 
second repellor field that they gave Klep an extra lift, leaving him 
suspended about a foot off the ground.

Havenshire tied one end of a rope around Klep's waist and attached 
the other end to one of the straps on his backpack.

"All set; said Havenshire."You won't be able to drift away now.  
I'll keep an eye on you."

I feel good said Klep."What planet are we on again?

"Never mind; said Roman."Just relax and we'll take care of you.

As the rest of the team started climbing into their camouflage 
snowsuits, Roman slogged through the snow to the top of a rock 
outcropping, where he did a slow scan of the terrain.

The night vision system revealed a sparse landscape covered in 
dirty snow, sloping gradually away from their position on the side of a 
mountain.  Looking across longer distances, Roman could detect the 
toxic gases, which looked like drifting plumes of smoke, blowing across 
the terrain.  He had no interest in removing his helmet.  Not only was 
the atmosphere highly unpleasant, but the instnanents below his 
helmet's warm faceplate told him the outside air temperature was well 
below freezing.

Far down the slope from the team's position, the terrain climbed 
again to a volcanic cone with jagged walls of black rock showing 
through the snow on its sides.  Roman used the telescopic magnification 
and enhancement abilities of his faceplate to examine the cone.  
Perched atop the old volcano was the low gray dome of the central 
processing facility, the first stop for new arrivals to the prison 
world.  The dome seemed to be warm enough that snow wouldn't stick to 
it.

As Roman understood it, special inmates were kept inside the dome 
for interrogation, while the average criminal was implanted with a 
tiny, subcutaneous tracking device before being released into the 
environment.  With any luck, the Gorene prisoners would still be 
somewhere inside that dome.  If Roman's team could release the Gorenes 
soon enough perhaps they could avoid the interrogation and torture 
phase of their stay.

Stretching down the sides of the volcano in neat lines, a string 
of cubicles, dearly military in design, housed the military support 
forces for the central facility.  Trapped on a prison world along with 
the criminals, those in control had no intention of succumbing to 
attacks by the inmates.  The sheer quantity of security forces seemed 
formidable.

Roman spun around as he heard a soft crunch of snow beside him.  
Kayla Brool was staring off into the distance toward the prison dome.

"Couldn't you knock or something?" Roman asked.

"How are we supposed to get our prisoners out of that place?

"No problem.  We get inside, find our friends, release them, and 
escort them back to the pick-up zone; said Roman.

Kayla looked at Roman with one eyebrow raised.  Did you think of that all by yourself?.

"Yes, I did.

"It's quite a plan.  You commanding officer types make it all seem 
so easy.  I can certainly see why you're in charge.

Roman chuckled."If I didn't know you so well, I'd think you were 
being sarcastic, Brool.

"Imagine that she said, making a wry face.  Then she gave him an 
exaggerated wink, leaving him to wonder what it meant.

Roman couldn't help liking her.  She was always calm and 
competent, and she had a good attitude about being asked to do three 
impossible things before breakfast.  She went back to examining the 
approaches to the dome.

"We have one big advantage,Roman said to her."It's a prison, which 
means the builders were more interested in keeping people in than 
keeping them out.

"That's encouraging.  We won't have any problem getting inside, 
but then we'll be trapped."

"I didn't say they were going to greet us with open arms and 
surrender.

"Do you see the size of those barricades at the base of the 
volcano?"

Roman smiled.  "Some people will go to great lengths to protect 
their privacy.  Consider it a challenge.

"Oh, I know it's a challenge.  I just want to feel as if there's 
some kind of method to your madness.  You do have a plan, right?

"Of course I have a plan.  What kind of a commanding officer would 
I be without a plan?"

Brool nodded."Okay.  I just wanted to make sure.

Brool walked back toward the rest of the team.  Roman resumed his 
study of the dome and the obstacles that lay ahead.  He needed to come 
up with a plan.

ASCALON RIFT---SECTOR II--MOORIS REPAIR DOCK The glittering metal 
spiderweb, known as the Mooris space repair dock, flashed repeatedly as 
it was struck by Tancred torpedoes.  Many of the Gorene ships docked at 
Mooris had already been destroyed by the attackers, so now they were 
demolishing the dock itself.  The Tancreds were concentrating on the 
space dock while the Zemun ships were flying cover, keeping the Gorenes 
occupied in dogfights.

Hela Selrase had been working hard as wave after wave of new 
attackers presented themselves.  She had been on patrol with Marsala 
Talmun and Lanthor Merlock for hours before the Alliance ships had 
started their attack, which had started almost five hours earlier.  
Hela had lost count of how many kills she had achieved during this 
mission.  The constant tension had made her neck sore.

Hela had destroyed several of the Zemun Harbinger ships.  She 
learned quickly that her main advantage lay in the speed of her 
fighter, since the Zemun ships also had good maneuverability, 
shielding, and weapons.  So far, she had not had to absorb any hits 
from the Zemun hellfire weapon, which temporarily neutralized the 
shields of the victim's ship to make it easier to kill.

Gorene losses were running high, despite their excellent kill 
ratio, which was about ten Alliance ships to every one Gorene.  There 
were just too many Zemun and Tancred attackers.

All of the pilots under Hela's command were performing at peak 
efficiency.

Hela's communications monitor bleeped, then glowed with the image 
of a Zemun commander.  The wide eyes and gaping mouth gave the 
impression of surprise, but Hela knew from the intelligence images that 
this was the normal Zemun expression.  This was the first Zemun she'd 
seen in person.

'The greetings of Anjou to you, Gorene commander.

Hela nodded."The same to you, sir.

"I amVonric Blacklost, military commander to High Father Krugahad 
Longmoor.  You have the unfortunate pleasure of my scrutiny at this 
moment, since I am aboard the Crillee, first Zemun dreadnought of the 
line and vanquisher of many foes.

"Nice to meet you, Commander Blacklost.  I'm Hela Selrase.  Where 
are you?"

"I am not fooled by your clever tricks, Commander Hela Selrase.  I 
will not tell you where I am.  Nor will you find me on your tactical 
scans."

"Suit yourself.  By the way, I'm not a commander.  I'm a pilot.

"Ah, you seek to trick me again.  I know you are the one giving 
the orders in this sector.  Do not underestimate my intelligence.

Hela smiled."I guess the rumors are true.  The Zemuns are much 
more sophisticated than the Tancreds.  I see there is no way for me to 
trick you.

Vonric nodded.The Zemuns have always been superior to the 
Tancreds.  You are a good judge of character and a good loser.  It's a 
pity that you're also an infidel invader.

"We prefer to think of ourselves as benevolent guardians of 
civilization.  We come to spread knowledge and culture to your people.

¥onric rolled his eyes."Even if you have to kill us to make your 
point?"

"This is a Gorene space dock you're attacking; said Hela.

'I like the way your eyes move," said Vonric.  I believe you are 
also the female of your species.  If you wish, you may join us and 
learn our ways before you judge whether your civilization is superior 
to that of those who follow Anjou.

She started to roll her eyes, then controlled the urge.  She 
supposed she should be flattered that this Zemun had found her 
attractive.  Of course, for all she knew about Zemun mating habits, 
Vonric may have made the same offer to every creature in the galaxy, 
male and female."No, thanks, but I appreciate the offer.

"I do not make it lightly, Commander Hela Selrase.  I have 
fourteen litter mates...  I believe you would call them 'wives,' and you 
could be number fifteen.

Hela snorted with a smile."I wasn't expecting a proposal from one 
of my enemies."

"Anjou moves in mysterious ways, Commander Hela Selrase.

Then again, Hela thought, she had wanted to contact the Zemuns.  
She wasn't interested in becoming part of a harem, but she could learn 
their ways, teach them about the Gorenes, and exchange information.  
Perhaps it could be a first step to a peaceful resolution to the 
Ascalon Rift conflict.

After all, a dreadnought commander must be a highly placed 
military official.

She almost said yes, but she didn't want to leave Roman.

Even though her trust in the Gorene command structure had been 
badly shaken--if a man like Ferrand could reach the top, there had to 
be something wrong with the whole Gorene system--she wasn't ready to 
abandon it.  She needed time to think before she made her final 
decision.

'What was your real reason for contacting me, Commander 
Blacklost?"

The Zemun jerked his head back and made gasping noises.

When he was finished, he looked at Hela again."Excuse my 
amusement.  I did not expect to meet a perceptive infidel.

"Thanks...  I guess."

"We have received signal traffic between your base known as ar-1 
and this space dock you identify as Mooris.

Since we are now aware of the existence of this ar-1 base, we 
intend to find it as soon as possible.  Your base, and everyone on it, 
will be destroyed.  This does not bother us, because Anjou made us in 
his image, and you look nothing like the beautiful Zemun form.  
However, Anjou can be merciful to those infidels who will listen to his 
words.  I am offering you a chance to learn Anjou's way and carry his 
message to your people.  Perhaps the light of Anjou can show the 
Gorenes the clear path away from the Ascalon Rift, in which we can all 
live in peace.

Hela was surprised.  She had expected the Zemuns to be fanatical 
religious zealots who killed anyone who didn't agree with them.  Vonric 
Blacklost was clearly not acting that way.  Perhaps the Zemuns, by and 
large, were reasonable beings who just wanted to be left alone to 
worship their own deity.  Even if the Gorenes felt right in doing so, 
they were st'ill invading the Zemun territory and interfering with 
their religion.  Hela didn't think that was right, though all of her 
ideological training told her otherwise.

'I will carry your message back to my people,said hela.

'Will you learn Anjou's way, Commander Hela Selrase?

hela paused before answering.I can't accept your invitation right 
now, Commander Blacklost.  I have responsibilities among my people.  
However, I will consider what you've said, and there's a chance I might 
change my mind.  If I live long enough, perhaps we will .speak again.

Blacklost nodded."Well spoken.  LetAnjou guide your hand: Thank 
you, Commander Blacklost.

The communications monitor went dark.

Alpha Guard Leader, this is Alpha Two,said Talmun.

Go ahead,Two.

Do you see what's happening on your tactical monitor?" Hela 
punched up her tactical display, then switched to a long range view.  
The attacking ships were starting to leave the area.  She was 
impressed.  The Zemuns were clearly not unthinking destroyers.  Perhaps 
the Zemuns knew the meaning of mercy.

Black Eye, this is Alpha Guard Leader.  Can you conftrm bogie 
retreat?" The nasal voice of the Intruder pilot responded.  Alpha 
Guard, Black Eye.  We confirm.  Did you start calling them names or 
something?  They're all going home.

Hela blinked."Just my natural charm, I guess.

Remind us not to annoy you,said Black Eye.

You should already know that by now.  In any case,Alpha Guard will 
remain on station for a few minutes to make sure this isn't a trick.  
We can use the recharge time before we start back.

Affirm, alpha Guard.  Your return vector two five nine." Two five 
nine, Alpha Guard out?

ASCALON RIFT--SECTOR VwXER1DUN

Roman's team had covered most of the distance to the prison dome, but he still didn't have a plan.  Sitting on top of the volcanic cone, the dome seemed quite secure.  Tromping through 
the deep snow, towing Klep along behind them as if he were an 
observation balloon, their progress was slow.

Roman was leading the group, looking back on occasion to make sure 
they were all still there.  On his last casual glance over his 
shoulder, something didn't quite seem right, so he took a longer look.  
Helmar was bouncing along immediately behind Roman with just enough 
youthful energy to be annoying.

Samso, scowling at the snow, was a few paces behind her.  Brool 
was in the middle, fully alert, scanning the horizon.  Roman had placed 
her there because she'd been flirting with him and he couldn't 
concentrate.  Behind her, Havenshire casually carried most of their 
supplies, as well as towing Klep, who was currently hovering three feet 
off the ground.  Bringing up the rear was the familiar face of Roman 
Alexandria, calmly walking along as if he'd lived on Xefidun all his 
life.

The Roman at the rear of the line smiled and waved at the Roman in 
the front of the line, who found this very disturbing.

Roman held up his hand to halt their progress."I think · we've got 
a problem.

Helmar's eyes widened."What?"

'I don't see anything," said Brool.

Roman pointed at the second Roman, who smiled as they turned 
around to look at him.

'Okay," said Brool."I see the problem.

'The people here look like you, sir' said Helmar.

Samso pointed his laser rifle at the second Roman.  I don't like 
the looks of him, sir.  Do you want me to kill him?"

'No, let's talk to him first.  He looks friendly," said Roman.

He wasn't sure why, but there was something about the newcomer's 
face that seemed trustworthy.

I am a friend; said the second Roman.  'My name is Copol: Roman 
nodded."You're a Mazuma shapeshifter, I assume?

"Correct.  Excuse my appearance, but I noticed you were armed and 
I had no interest in being shot when I approached you."

'I understand.  You're a prisoner here?"

'For over a year.  Due to the widespread government corruption on 
my planet, honest beings such as myself are no longer welcome in the halls of power.

"So, you're not a criminal?"

'I'm innocent.  I was framed by those who hate honest citizens.  I 
made the mistake of trying to expose the thievery of high government 
officials.

'That'll get you thrown in jail every time," said Roman.

Roman was not surprised to hear Copol protest his innocence, since 
most criminals said they were innocent.  However, Roman didn't really 
care so long as Copol could offer them some help.

"I thought I'd have some immunity since I was a government official myself," said Copol.

'Looks like you were wrong.

Copol nodded."I learned that lesson a little bit too late.

My supporters and I were sent here to keep us quiet."

"What was your position?"

"I was in charge of public works planning.

Not exactly a glamorous job, Roman thought, nor one a lying 
criminal would make up to impress someone.  Maybe there was some truth 
to his story.  "Would you mind explaining why you've contacted us?"

"My friends and I could use some transportation off this planet," 
said Copol."You obviously aren't from around here, so I thought maybe 
you could help."

"I've got news for you, Copol.  We're Gorenes.  We're the enemy.

Copol made a hand gesture to dismiss the thought."If the Mazuma 
government is your enemy, I'd say we're on the same side.

"Of course, you'd probably say anything to get off this planet.  I know I would.

"An excellent point."

Kayla Brool stepped forward.  "What I want to know is how you 
managed to find us.  This seems like some sort of a trick to me.

"It wasn't hard to find you," said Copol."My friends and I are 
very well connected.  We know all about how things work around here, 
and I monitored your approach by tapping into the command system.  We 
also know that a group of Gorene prisoners landed two phases ago, so it 
was logical to expect a rescue attempt, especially when we heard the 
orbital containment field was down."

Roman was surprised."You say you tapped into the command system?"

"It's not hard when you know how', said Copol with a shrug.

"Hey," said Samso."If they saw us coming, then the military must 
have monitored our approach as well.

"Oh, yes.  said Copol."They're expecting you.

"Perfect; said Roman.  That's all we need."

Copol smiled."I'd like to point out that you have an ad vantage that the prison security force doesn't have."

"What's that?"

"Me," said Copol.

"And how is that an advantage?"

"I can help you rescue your people.

CHAPTER 13 ASCALON RIFT--SECTOR V--XERIDUN

The Mazuma known as Copol had, indeed, been in charge of public 
works for his government.  Twenty years earlier, he had designed the 
central processing and security facility for the prison world known as 
Xeridun.  When Xeridun's purpose was expanded to include the 
imprisonment of political prisoners and dissidents, as well as business 
rivals and merchants who were too successful, Copol had tried to expose 
the corruption in the higher levels of his government.  Unfortunately, 
in the eyes of his superiors, Copol's opinions qualified him for 
imprisonment on Xeridun.

Considering the current population of Xeridun, representing every 
category of being from the races of the Ascalon Rift, it seemed that 
everyone qualified for imprisonment there.  Always alert to marketing 
opportunities, the Mazumas soon realized that their prison planet could 
be a convenient solution for the governments of other civ'dizations as 
well as their own.  The Mazuma government made it known that a small 
fee could remove criminals, dissidents, politicians, competitors, and 
other.  problems from their homeworlds.

The handy Mazuma Problem Disposal Service would then place the 
prisoner in isolation on Xeridun, from which no escape was possible.  
Confident in their detention system, the Mazumas guaranteed that 
customers would never see their prisoners again, assuming that all fees 
were promptly paid.  ' No one had ever asked for a refund.

As Roman questioned Copol further about his knowledge of their 
mission, Copol reluctantly filled in the last piece of the puzzle.  A 
certain Gorene intelligence officer, a pirate recruit known as Captain 
Quark, was Copol's contact.  Copol and his friends were part of the 
extended Gorene intelligence network.  Not only had Quark supplied 
Copol with the knowledge that Roman's team was coming to Xeridun, but 
he had also given them the location of the drop zone, chosen partially 
because it was near Copol's base of operations.

That Admiral Shylo had not chosen to inform Roman of Copol's 
existence only enhanced the Mazuma's credibility, as well as the 
sensitive nature of the intelligence gathering operation on Xeridun.  
Now, with the orbital containment field disabled, the Mazuma spies 
wanted to be rescued.  They had removed the tracking devices implanted 
in their bodies by the Xeridun authorities, so discovery wasn't a 
problem.

Copol was willing to help Roman with the rescue attempt to earn 
his way off Xeridun on the Gorene shuttle.

Copol certainly seemed to be telling the truth, Roman thought, but 
why was Quark suddenly popping up everywhere?

"How long have you known Captain Quark?"

Copol paused before answering."You are Quark's friend, are you 
not?"

"I guess I am, but I don't know him, very well, except that he 
knew my parents," Copol nodded."I'm sure he's only trying to maintain 
his new identity,"

"New identity?"

"Other races find him more acceptable as the outrageously dressed 
pirate.  They have less fear of a creature who makes them laugh."

Roman frowned."I'm afraid I don't follow your meaning."

"I knew your Captain Quark when his name was Qoloo.

He is considered something of an eccentric among my people.  And, 
as is true of many Mazumas, he does not like our government.  He is a 
peaceful creature, opposed to war,"

"Hold on," said Roman, taken aback.  

"You're telling me that Quark is a shapeshifter?"

"Only because he's a Mazuma citizen.  One of his eccentricities is 
that he prefers to maintain only one identity.

When other Mazumas do that, it's because they're lazy.

Qoloo does it because he likes it.  And his pirate appearance 
seems to work well in his profession, as I said."

Roman suddenly realized that he was developing several friends 
among the enemy.  This disturbed him, partly because he knew he was 
supposed to report such contacts to his superiors, and he no longer 
wanted to do that.  Command discouraged friendly relations with any of 
the enemy races, since they knew it was harder to kill friendly beings.  

The popular view, although it was never formally stated, was that 
familiarity took away a pilot's killing edge.  Pilots couldn't stop to 
think when their fingers were on the firing buttons.  Roman had come to 
respect the Zemuns and the Mazumas, and he understood the Tancred's 
need to defend their homes.  It made him wonder if this war, and all 
this killing, was even necessary.

¢opol continued his analysis of their situation.  The two standard 
approaches into the prison dome were guarded by Mazuma security forces 
and a variety of sophisticated defenses.  Copol usually entered through 
the front gate by impersonating Homa Bolo, the fearsome Tancred warden, 
but that wouldn't work very well now, with Roman's team tagging behind.  

However, Copol knew of an escape route that had been installed in the 
event of a disaster.  A diagonal tunnel had been bored through the 
volcanic cone from its base to the dome's interior, where it connected 
to the lowest level of the dome's central prisoner processing facility.

The base of the tunnel was concealed, but Copol had used it on two 
previous occasions.  With his Xeridun tracking implant removed, and his 
ability to shapeshift, Copol felt secure in using that point of entry.  
This would serve as the access point for Roman's team, and they arrived 
there four hours later.

Before they went inside, Roman had to address some° thing that had 
been bothering him every since they met the friendly Mazuman.  "Copol, 
I think it's about time you stopped looking like me.  It could get to 
be a problem when the shooting starts: Copol made the soft barking 
noise that passed for a laugh among his people."As you wish, Commander 
Alexandria.  I do not want to offend you.

Copol's facial features seemed to relax, then his skin began to 
flow and shift around on his head.  The hair Roman recognized as his 
own receded into Copol's head, his nose got longer and wider, the lower 
part of his face thinned and narrowed, and the eyebrows formed into a 
single high ridge over narrow black eyes.

"Is this better?" Copol asked when the transformation was 
complete.

"Well, you're not quite as attractive as you were before; said 
Roman with a grin,"but you'll be much easier to identify now.

Copol activated the hidden door in the black rock face, which was 
a circular opening about six feet across.  Roman turned to face Klep 
and Havcnshirc.  "Okay, Klep, it's your turn."

Havenshire maneuvered Klep's hovering form into the tunnel opening 
and proceeded to untie the rope that kept Klep from floating away.  
Klep had taped his laser pistol to his right glove so that he wouldn't 
drop it in the tunnel.  He was feeling pretty woozy from the 
painkillers in his system, the nanobots continued their repairs on his 
broken legs, and he didn't want to disarm himself.

Roman patted Klep on the shoulder."You know what to do?"

"Float to the top of the tunnel and report back; said Klep.

"That's right.  We'll be a short distance behind you.  Think you 
can handle it?"

"Not a problem, sir.  I'm not adding more painkillers until I've 
done my job up there.

"If you run into any problems, don't try to be a hero.  Let us 
handle it.

Free of the rope, Klep released his grip on the rock wall and 
started floating up the tunnel.

"Klep okay being alone?" Havenshire asked, watching Klep disappear 
up the tunnel.

Roman nodded."Copol says the tunnel comes out in the lowest 
detention area.  If Klep doesn't run into any guards, he should be 
fine.  They certainly won't be expecting anyone popping out of the 
floor.

The ascent up the slanted tunnel proved to be swift and easy, 
though they had to walk in a crouch.  There were no steps, but the 
builders had thoughtfully provided a high-friction surface on the floor 
of the damp volcanic tube.

Klep reported back from the top of the tunnel--the approach was 
clear--and the team quickly followed.  A heavy floor grille with an 
atmospheric seal blocked the exit, so Klep waited patiently for 
Havenshire to arrive and remove the obstacle.

The team was on the lowest level of the prison dome, which was the 
detention area reserved for special prisoners.

Black volcanic stone had been used to form the outer walls and 
floor of the large room, but metal plates formed the dividing walls and 
cell blocks.  The dim light source on the ceiling was too high to be 
seen.  Somewhere in the distance, a hissing noise provided a constant 
accompaniment to the staccato dripping of the water, which had created 
puddles on the floor.  The team spread out around the room in silence, 
watching for guards, prisoners, or anyone else who might spot them.

Copol climbed a metal staircase to the top of one of the cell 
blocks, then beckoned for Roman to follow.  Roman climbed the stairs 
carefully to avoid clanging them with his boots.  At the top, he 
followed Copol out onto the heavy metal mesh that served as the roof of 
the cell block.  The filthy cage beneath his feet was large enough to 
accommodate thirty prisoners, but there was no one in it.

The next cell held a small group of Tancreds in ragged clothes who 
were sleeping on the dirty floor.  Some of them looked up as Roman and 
Copol passed overhead, but they showed little interest.  Roman knew 
these Tancreds had to be special prisoners to remain confined in the 
prison dome; average prisoners were allowed to roam freely on the 
planet.

The third ceil held eight Gorene pilots, all of whom seemed to be 
asleep.

Roman dropped to one knee and tapped lightly on the mesh.  He 
didn't recognize any of the pilots, but he was happy to see them.

The tallest pilot had flaming red hair.  He looked up and frowned 
at first, unsure of what was going on.  He stood up for a closer look, 
and the light shining through the mesh formed a pattern on the man's 
swollen and bruised face.

"Hey," said the red-haired man.  His mouth dropped open in 
amazement as he recognized Roman's uniform.

Roman whispered, "I'm Sector Commander Roman Alexandria."

The man blinked, then saluted.  "Wing leader Jasper Rouge at your 
service, sir."

"Would you be interested in leaving this place, Rouge?" Rouge 
looked down at the floor for a moment, then back up at Roman.  "I'm not 
worthy to be rescued, sir, but I'm sure the others are ready to go."

"Why not you?"

"I'm their commanding officer, sir.  I failed to defend the base, 
then I failed to protect my men once we were captured.

The lucky ones died first, but the stronger ones endured a great 
deal of torture before they were killed.  Counting myself, nineteen 
pilots are all that's left of my command.  I don't deserve to be 
rescued." Roman sighed.  Blois had estimated fifty pilots were 
imprisoned on Xeridun."I understand what you're saying, but there's 
nothing you could have done.

Tell that to my dead pilots," said Rouge, looking down again at 
the floor.

"I'm sorry we couldn't have gotten here sooner.  Perhaps you'll 
feel differently once we get you off this planet.

Copol walked over to the next cell.  He showed Roman.

ten fingers, followed by one more.  A total of nineteen left, out 
of fifty taken, meant that the interrogators had been quite busy 
exterminating the Gorenes.  Roman didn't understand why the prisoners 
had been captured in the first place, since it seemed that they'd been 
brought to Xeridun to be killed anyway.  What did these pilots know 
that the alliance didn't seem to know already?  Perhaps the prison 
staff was simply overzealous and sadistic, as Copol would probably 
agree, but there was no way to be certain.

Roman scrambled his helmet's comlink and issued instructions to 
his team.  The Gorenes were released with quick laser shots that melted 
the locks on their cell doors.

Small explosive charges with timers were set on the other cells.  
The Gorenes would escape first, and a few minutes later the timers 
would set off the explosives, freeing everyone.

The confusion of a planet-wide escape should keep the prison 
military too busy to stop the Gorenes.  The team carefully explained to 
the other prisoners that the containment field around the planet had 
been removed and that they were being released by the Gorene Empire.  
They were free to steal whatever ships they could find to leave 
Xeridun.

This speech had been rehearsed by each member of the team before 
they left ar-1.To no one's surprise, the prisoners seemed eager to join 
in the Gorene escape plan.

Copol spoke to 'the Mazuma prisoners, telling them where to find 
several large transport ships that they could pilot to other worlds.  
Copol knew the Mazuma prisoners would quickly find a way to profit from 
the situation, probably by capturing the transports and charging high 
rescue fees to the prisoners they'd fly off the planet.  The Gorenes 
hoped that these radicals and criminals--saved from lifetimes of horror 
on Xeridun by the Gorene Empire--would spread the word throughout the 
Alliance of their good intentions.

Before they left, Roman and Havenshire planted four City Buster 
bombs in the best spots they could find on the lowest level of the 
prison facility.  Once the detonation codes and timers had been set, 
the final step involved the selection of a camouflage pattern and color 
from each bomb's computer.  Roman selected "lampblack" for the color 
and rough volcanic rock" for the textured pattern.  This active 
camouflage system enabled each bomb to blend in with its individual 
surroundings to avoid detection.  After Roman had set each bomb, he had 
a hard time seeing it again.

The location for each mushroom-shaped bomb was chosen for the 
hardness of its surrounding materials.  Hard material would help 
contain the blast enough to direct the force of the explosion toward 
the upper levels of the dome.  The other prisoners were warned that the 
dome would be destroyed soon after the Gorenes left.  The bombs placed 
by Roman and Havenshire were more than enough to vaporize the volcanic 
cone along with the prison dome.  Two bombs would have been sufficient 
to do the job, but four bombs were less likely to fail or all be 
discovered.  Given enough City Buster bombs, made from the same 
explosives as the dreaded Planet Buster missile warheads, the entire 
surface of a planet could be destroyed in one titanic blast.  Even 
though the safety systems, with their interlocking codes, kept the 
bombs quite safe until they were armed, Roman felt much better as soon 
as he and Havenshire had removed the City Busters from their backpacks.

Samso discovered a small weapons locker near the entrance to their 
detention level.  A quick shot from his laser rifle gave them enough 
weapons to arm the Gorene prisoners, as well as leaving a few laser 
pistols behind for the use of the Alliance prisoners when they made 
their escape.  Roman fully expected that a few of the prisoners, most 
likely the Tancreds, would go up the stairs instead of down the tunnel, 
in order to personally get even with prison security.

If they could get far enough before the bombs went off, there was 
a chance they could Steal some of the security ships parked just 
outside the main entrance.  Roman wished them luck.

With her laser rifle at the ready, Kayla Brool led the first group 
of prisoners down the tunnel exit, some of whom were limping.  Helmar 
and Samso brought up the rear of the group.

Since Havenshire had broken the tunnel's atmospheric .  seal when 
they arrived, the stronger toxic gases from outside had been seeping 
into the detention room on a current of warmer air from the tunnel.  
The air quality had not been great inside the dome before, but now it 
was worse.  Some of the prisoners were coughing already.  Due to their 
limited supplies, the team had only been able to bring a few rebreather 
masks to filter the atmosphere for the Gorene prisoners.  They would be 
able to tolerate the atmosphere for short periods by sharing the 
rebreather masks, but Roman knew they would be much better off if no 
time was wasted in the journey to the shuttle pickup zone.

Roman wanted to wait before releasing the next group of prisoners, 
but he was acutely aware of the destructive power soon to be unleashed, 
so he carefully watched the timer in his helmet display.

Hovering several feet above the floor, Klep was now tied to Roman so that he wouldn't drift away.Sir?"

Yes, Klep?"

I think someone's coming this way.  I can see the tops of two 
heads; said Klep, peering into the distance.

Roman could hear footsteps on the stone floor.

"WeYe been too lucky so far; said Copol."I have an idea.

Okay; said Roman.

"The Tancred guards won't bother Homa Bolo, the prison commander.  
I've done it before.

"Great idea, but what if they're Mazuma guards?  Won't they be 
able to tell that you're not the real thing?"

Copol smiled."Maybe if they get too close.  We just won't let that 
happen, right?"

"Right." Roman blinked as Copol's face started to enlarge, 
developing a double chin.

As it turned out, they were Tancred guards.  As soon as they 
spotted Homa Bolo standing beside Roman, Havenshire, and the Gorene 
prisoners, they drew to attention, a little frightened.

"What are you looking at?" Copol asked the guards.  His voice was 
harsh.

Nothing, Commander," said the first Tancred, averting his gaze 
from Copol's fierce eyes.

Roman glanced at his timer, showing forty-five minutes before the 
bombs exploded.  It would take about fifteen minutes to get down the 
tunnel and fifteen to get safely away from the volcanic cone.  The 
Alliance prisoners would be released from their cells with half an hour 
left for their escape.

It was time to leave.

"Why are these prisoners out of their cells?" asked the second Tancred guard.  To him, all Gorenes looked alike.

I let them out,said Copol.

is there any problem, sir?" asked the second guard.

The first guard suddenly noticed Klep floating overhead.

His rifle started to swing into firing position."Who's that?"

Havenshire brought his laser pistol out from behind his back and 
fired at the first Tancred guard.  The guard fell over with a smoking 
hole in his chest as the other guard threw himself sideways to avoid 
Havenshire's second shot.  As the guard rolled, he aimed his rifle at 
Roman, but Klep fired his pistol first, putting a smoking crease into 
the guard's skull.

They didn't know if the guard was dead or not, but the shot had 
put him out of action.

Keeping one eye on the unconscious guard, Roman gestured for 
Havenshire to step into the tunnel."We're running out of time.  Move." 
Havenshire ducked and entered the tunnel, followed by the Gorene 
prisoners.  Rouge looked at Roman.  "Sir?  It might be a good idea if I 
stayed behind to watch for more guards.  If they figure out we're in 
that tunnel before we've reached the bottom, they could pick us off 
with one or two laser shots." "Thanks for the offer,said Roman, abut 
that's my job.

You're my responsibility now, and we can't afford to lose any more pilots.  We need your skills to defend ar-1:

Sir, I really think..." 'I understand how you feel, Rouge, but I'm 
not giving you a choice.  Get in that tunnel and keep moving." Rouge 
nodded, but he didn't sound happy when he responded.

'Yes, sir."

Roman turned to Copol."You're next?

"As you wish." Copol's features flowed as his face and body 
changed back into his normal appearance, and he stepped into the 
tunnel.

Roman looked up at Klep, whose eyes were half shut.

Roman assumed he'd had another close of painkillers."You awake, 
Klep?  Is this all too boring for you?" 'Hmm?  No, sir,said Klep, 
blinking his eyes.  I'm right with you.

'More than that, you're attached to me.  It looks like you'll be 
bringing up the rear this time, since I can't figure any way to push you down the tunnel ahead of me.

Fine with me, sir.  I'll watch your back." Try to remain alert.  
If you see anything coming after us, let me know?

Will do, sir,said Klep, trying to sound more alert.  Roman hoped 
Klep could stay awake, since his floating form would be blocking 
Roman's view back up the tunnel.

Roman pulled Klep's line in a bit more and secured it before 
stepping into the tunnel.  Before starting the descent, he tried to 
plug the tunnel opening the way it had been when they arrived.  That 
way, if anyone gave the emergency exit a casual glance from inside the 
detention room, they wouldn't notice the difference right away.  When 
the Alliance prisoners opened the exit again to make their escapes, it 
would no longer matter if the guards saw what was happening.

Roman wanted to be long gone by then.

By the time Roman was halfway down the tunnel, his knees were 
aching from the crouch required for the descent.

They were making good progress, but Roman was sure the limping 
prisoners were having a difficult time.

Brool reported that her group had reached the bottom of the 
tunnel, and Roman told them to continue moving toward the shuttle 
pickup zone.

Havenshire's voice boomed into Roman's helmet.We are being having 
a thing here, sir?

Roman rolled his eyes."A thing?  What do you mean?"

One of the prisoners is being on the tunnel floor.  Holding his 
leg, he is?

Can you reach him, Havenshire?"

I am trying that now, sir.  One person is being between us, but we 
are together as we work on this: Roman could see some commotion ahead 
in the tunnel, but there were too many prisoners blocking his way.  He 
checked his timer and felt his stomach lurch.

'How's it coming?" Roman asked, trying to sound calm.

"I am having reach of the fallen prisoner now,' said 
Havenshire."He is having the trouble standing again, so being we may 
have to drag him down the rest of the way."

Well; said Roman,"if it's a choice between dragging him along or dying in this tunnel, I say start dragging.

We will be doing this,said Havenshire.

They started moving again.  Roman avoided looking at the timer in 
his helmet display.  The prisoners were maddeningly slow.  He began to 
wonder if one City Buster bomb wouldn't have been better, since the 
blast radius would have been smaller.  In any case, it was too late 
now.  They would have to run fast and hope for the best.  After coming 
this far, Roman had no intention of failing now.

Havenshire, how far are you from the bottom?" Maybe it's being 
another five minutes, sir: Roman was afraid he'd say that.We don't have 
five minutes, hAdoth?

We are hurrying our best; said Havenshire.

Roman stopped to examine the high friction surface they were 
walking on.  He poked his finger into it, then scratched it with his 
finger.  It was black and spongy, like a rubberized coating.  It did an excellent job of preventing their boots from slipping on the steep surface.

HavenshireV Sir?" 'Put your laser rifle on the lowest setting and 
melt the walkway In front of you:

Melting?  We'U being slipping on it:

Exactly.  We don't have enough time to walk the rest of the way 
down.  We need to slide.

Havenshire hesitated."We could all being hurt when hitting the 
bottom we do.

"We could really get hurt if those bombs go off while we're still in this tunnel;' said Roman.

ryes, sir:

Roman saw the flash of Havenshire's laser rifle, silhouetting the 
people ahead.  It was possible that the laser would do more than melt 
the walkway, burning its way into the volcanic rock even when it was on 
its lowest setting.  Or the melted surface might burn them horribly on 
the way down.  Or they could pick up too much speed, breaking a lot of 
bones when they hit the bottom.  However, Roman didn't have any better 
ideas.  The rifle flashes stopped a moment later.

"Okay said Havenshire."The floor is being shiny all the way down 
being.  I will be giving it a try.

"Before you go,said Roman,"tell everyone to wait five seconds apiece before they slide.

I will be doing this, sir.

Roman sensed that there was some confusion up ahead.

He glanced at the timer again."HavenshireV Havenshire responded in 
a higher, bouncing voice.  I'm down going?Then, a few seconds later, 
his voice had returned to normal.  I am in the snow sitting, sir.

"Any problem getting there?" Roman asked.

My butt is hurting,said Havenshire.

We can survive that," said Roman.  "As the pilots reach you, get 
them started following Brool.  Tell them to follow the tracks from 
Brool's group.  If they can run, tell them to do it.

i'll be telling them that.

Roman suddenly remembered that Klep was attached to his 
suit."Klep?  Have you been following our conversation?"

"Yes, sir," said Klep.

"I'm going to pull you down as close to me as I can.  We don't 
want you bouncing around too much against the tunnel walls, right?"

I was hoping you'd think of that, sir.

Roman stepped forward behind Copol, who had moved up to the shiny 
section of the tunnel floor.  The other prisoners had all gone.  Roman 
winced when he saw the numbers on his timer.  At a dead run, they had 
little chance of leaving the blast zone now.  Copol glanced over his 
shoulder at Roman."Good luck, Commander Alexandria." Thanks, Copol, but 
I'd appreciate it if you'd get out of my way." Copol barked his 
amusement, then slid down the tunnel at high speed.  Roman was anxious 
to see if the rest of the group was laying in a big pile at the base of 
the tunnel.  Anyone who wasn't capable of running from the area would 
have to be left behind.

Copol is being in the snow,' said Havenshire.  He ran into one of 
the pilots, but they seem okay.

Roman wasted no time.  He quickly sat down on the glazed surface 
after pulling Klep close to his back.Clear the way!  I'm coming down 
with Klep!"

As he started his slide, with the volcanic rock zooming just 
inches from his helmet, Roman heard a strange commotion behind them in 
the tunnel.  It was too late to see what was happening, but expecting a 
bright flash and worse, Roman cringed and closed his eyes.

CHAPTER 14 ASCALON RIFr--SECTOR VmXERIDUN

There was no bright flash before Roman reached the end of the 
tunnel.  But there was a lot of yelling behind.  With his eyes closed, 
he was startled as he shot out of the opening and slammed into the 
snow.  Klep plowed into the back of Roman's helmet, knocking him 
forward for a hard landing on his face.

Roman was lifted to his feet by Havenshire, who started running 
with him in silence.  Klep kept bouncing against Roman's back.  The 
snow had.been trampled flat by the many feet before them, and they were 
able to cover a lot of ground before the dome exploded.

Roman glanced back when they heard the first booming sound.  A few 
small ships were rising from the small field atop the volcano outside 
the prison dome.  Roman had no idea if those ships were piloted by 
prisoners or by security forces.  A moment later, he saw a brilliant 
flash before they were knocked off their feet and into the snow.  
Through closed eyes and a faceplate buried in the ground, the light 
continued to get brighter.  Roman's suit temperature rose faster than 
the thermostat could compensate for it.  The ground shook with several 
rolling shocks as the wind howled.  Roman's suit stiffened in several 
places where debris pounded against the fabric.  A burst of static 
roared through his speakers.

Finally, the commotion subsided.

Roman's muscles ached as he lifted himself out of the snow.  
Havenshire was already sitting up, looking back.

The volcanic cone had disappeared.

In place of the cone was a smoking crater, glowing red with hidden 
fires beneath the surface.  Between Roman and the crater, the snow had 
melted, replaced not with muddy soil but with dirt baked dry by the 
blast.  The ground under Roman and Havenshire was still wet, but the 
only other moisture was higher up the slope, farther from the blast.

Then Roman realized that Klep was missing.

"Klep!"

There was no response.  Roman looked high up on the slope, 
scanning the terrain for any sign of Klep or the other group.  The 
tracks left by the others continued up past the snow line and 
disappeared over the top of the ridge.

"Brool, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear.

"Did Copol make it up where you are?"

He went farther than we did, actually.  He was at the top of the 
ridge when the bombs went off.  He flew right past us.

Is he okay?

"He's fine.  Just a few bruises here and there: "How about Klep?  
Have you seen him?"

We thought he was with you." Roman swallowed.  He was." "I'll form 
a few search teams,said Brool."If he's up here, we'll find him." 
"Okay,said Roman.  There was no telling where Klep could have been 
thrown when the shock wave rolled past.

"We'll be there in a few minutes.

The search parties were unable to find Klep.  Roman and Havenshire 
performed a thorough examination of the hillside between the snow line 
and the top of the ridge before joining up with Brool's group, but 
there was no sign of their missing balloon man.  Roman cursed himself 
for not pulling Klep down with him.

The orbiting "Tancred' freighter responded instantly to Roman's 
retrieval signal.  The group made the short trek to the pickup zone 
where they found Copol's two Mazuma friends, Vanna-Ty and Benes-Cy, 
waiting for them.  Roman was not surprised to see them, since Copol's 
base of operations was near the pickup zone.  The surprise guest was 
Horus Klep, floating peacefully over the head of Vauna-Ty.

Klep!" Roman shouted."Where have you been?" Klep pointed at 
Vanna-Ty."With her?

Vanna-Ty nodded at Roman.  "We found him stuck between two rocks 
on the slope above our base of operations.

He didn't know we were there because the entrance to the 
underground base is covered by snow right now.

I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I saw these two 
pop up out of the snow, ' said Klep, "but I sure was glad to see them.  
I thought that bomb was going to blow me straight off the planet.

Thanks for retrieving him,said Roman."He does tend to get himself in trouble when I'm not around.

Our pleasure; said Vanna-Ty.

They all looked up when they heard the distant thunder of the 
shuttle's engines.  When the shuttle was overhead, the landing engines 
whipped up a snow flurry around the group.

Roman grandly gestured at the opening clamshell doors at the back 
of the shuttle.  Would anyone like a ride?" Roman had to dodge out of 
the way to avoid being run over in the stampede.

ASCALON RIFT---SECTOR IItAR-1 After his triumphant return from the Xeridun rescue mission, Roman 
introduced Copol to Blois Fulcher.  The Mazuma spies had brief 
interviews with Blois before being sent on to Admiral Shylo's flagship.  

Roman also sent Rouge and the other former prisoners to the infirmary 
with Klep, where they would be allowed a brief recuperation period 
before receiving their new assignments with the Gold Squadron.

While Roman was at Xeridun, there had been a lull in the attacks 
by the Zemuns and Tancreds.  This was a welcome relief, since no new 
missions had been flown since the return of Hela Selrase's group from 
the Mooris space dock.

The pilots finally had a chance for a decent amount of rest.

Before going to sleep himself, Roman checked the message that was 
waiting on the tiny message monitor by the head of his bunk.  The 
message was encoded at gold level three, which meant that it had to 
come from Blois or Shylo.

Roman entered his decoding key, then pressed his right thumb 
against the monitor so that the laser could scan his fingerprint.  The 
decoded message appeared on the monitor: To: Roman Alexandria, Sector 
Commander, Gold Squadron From: Blois Fulcher, Tactical Officer, Gold 
Squadron Classification: GOLD THREE, FOR YOUR EYES ONLY While you were 
at Xeridun, several probes were' launched for the purpose of locating a 
secondary base to replace ar-1.  Long-range probes into the region 
known as Vesto-3 have successfully identified a suitable planet.  This 
region is particularly valuable since we have verification that none of 
the races involved in the Alliance have any interests there.  We will 
not relocate to the new planet inVesto-3 unless the ar-1 base is 
disabled.  In fact, I am assigning the probe report a classification of 
Gold Three, meaning that only you and I have access to it.  This report 
will not be sent to Admiral Shylo or the Gorene High Command until such 
time as ar-1 is about to be destroyed.  I'm sure you understand the 
need for secrecy in this matter.

Roman was too tired to care.

After sleeping for almost ten hours, Roman was ready to meet with 
Blois Fulcher and discuss the information regarding Vesto-3.  They 
might also do some mission planning based on the new information 
gathered from the rescued Mazuma spies.  Based on his conversations 
with Copol, it might even be possible to use the Mazuma underground to 
help the Gorenes topple the current Mazuma government.

Before his meeting, Roman decoded a new communication that had 
arrived on his message monitor and printed it out so he could read it 
on the way to Blois's office.

The corridors were as silent as the tombs at Fomalhaut as Roman 
made his way to Blois's office.  The only signs of life were the 
occasional snoring sounds coming from open doorways.

His footsteps seemed unusually loud, but he didn't think there was 
a danger of waking any exhausted pilots.

Roman glanced at the message in his hand; it was from Admiral 
Shylo.  He frowned as he scanned it, then read it a second time with 
more urgency.

Roman ran the rest of the way to Blois's office and burst in.  
Blois looked up startled.

"Something's going on; said Roman.  "I just received a message 
from Admiral Shylo.  He said the War Council on Prajna-7 has already 
planned our next missions.  We've been ordered to suspend any current 
operations in lieu of this new plan.

Blois nodded."I got the same message.  So much for calling our own 
shots.  I hope Shylo isn't going to pull a Ferrand on us.

The admiral seems competent, but why is the War Council suddenly 
stepping in?  I suppose we have to hear them out.

"There's no need for a negative reaction just yet.  Let's see what 
the admiral has to say.  I'll gather the squadron for the briefing: The 
mood among the pilots was good as Roman and Blois mounted the stage in 
the briefing room.  There was much joking and laughing.  The lull in 
the missions seemed to have done some good.

The room fell silent as the huge projected head of Admiral $hylo 
appeared over the stage.

Let me congratulate Commander Alexandria, Officer Fulcher, and the 
Gold Squadron for a job well done.  The raid on Xeridun, as well as the 
defense of the Mooris space dock, were clearly accomplished through 
excellent planning and leadership.  Let me say that I am not here 
because I doubt Commander Alexandria's decision making.  I couldn't be 
more pleased with his leadership.  I am here because the War Council on 
Prajna-7, which I oversee, has a much broader view of events than 
Commander Alexandria or Officer Fulcher have at this time.  Extensive 
interrogation of our Mazuma spies has yielded a vast amount of 
intelligence that we can use right now.

Roman thought Shylo's phrasing was curious, but he didn't dare 
interrupt the briefing at this point.

Now that the Tancreds and Zemuns have been shaken as a result of 
the Mooris space dock defense, we must focus our efforts upon weakening 
the Mazumas.  The War Council believes that, in order to accomplish 
this, we must strike at the core of Mazuma strength: their wealth, 
economy, and industry.  The planet Hattin--the strongest link in the 
Mazuma economic chain--is a minirig world, abundant with natural 
resources.  The War Council has learned that vast amounts of their 
surplus mined resources are stored inside orbital containment 
satellites for later shipments.

Shylo paused.  Roman was disturbed they were planning an attack on 
the Mazuma homeworlds.  Without the help of their Mazuma spies, who 
admittedly hated their own government, they would not have easily 
managed the rescue of the Gorenes from Xeridun.  Roman felt that the 
War Council was overlooking potential friendly relations with the 
shape-shifting race, especially if the Gorene Empire could appeal to 
their highly developed sense of greed.

Our spies have reported that zenzac--a highly toxic and unstable 
radioactive isotope that fuels plasma torpedoes and other weaponry for 
the Alliance--is mined on Hattin.

We believe that three of the orbiting storage satellites contain 
zenzac: Blois interrupted.  If we could somehow confiscate the zenzac 
satellites, rather than committing ourselves to an all-out assault, we
could still hurt the Tancreds and the Mazumas.  Without zenzac, the 
Tancreds can't have plasma torpedoes and the Mazumas lose out onTancred 
capital." Roman joined in.  "Why don't we harness the satellites and 
carry them into deep space?  Once we're far away, we can destroy them 
harmlessly.  That should send a strong message to the Mazumas and the 
Tancreds.

Shylo listened patiently, then shook his head.  The War Council 
has a stronger message in mind.  Commander alexandria will lead a 
small squadron of Liberators back to Hattin, where our pilots 
previously destroyed the coranine refinery.

Their mission is to break through the Mazuma defenses to damage 
the satellites without vaporizing them.  This is a crucial distinction.  

Once crippled, the damaged satellites will fall into Hattin's 
atmosphere and burn up.  Zenzac isotopes will then rain down on the 
surface and render the planet uninhabitable in a matter of hours.

Hela Selrase jumped up from her seat."Destroy an entire world!  
Why?"

Blois shouted, startling everyone.  "We're Gorenes, not 
apocalyptic destroyers!  You want us to exterminate an entire planet, 
admiral?"

Roman recognized the look in Shylo's eyes.  It was the same 
fanatical gleam he'd seen in Ferrand.  Nothing had changed.  The 
fanatics were still in charge.

Shylo spoke through clenched teeth."We've attempted a peaceful 
expansion into the Ascalon Rift, but we have been repeatedly provoked 
and attacked.  The Alliance declared war, so war it is.  And there is 
only one rule in war, Officer Fulcher and Pilot Selrase--to win as 
quickly as possible.  It may sound brutal to speak of destroying an 
entire world, but such a feat will send the enemy a message like no 
other."

The room was completely silent.  Roman was so shocked he couldn't 
think of anything to say.

Shylo continued.  "This attack will strike fear into the Mazuma 
people, weaken their morale, and cut into the heart of their economies 
and defenses.  Remember also that Hattin is a mining world.  A very 
small percentage of the Mazuma population actually lives there."

Marsh Lawton stood and looked around the room.  I agree with 
Admiral Shylo.  We're here to win a war, and sometimes it takes a 
catastrophic event to force a surrender."

Roman just looked at Lawton and shook his head.

Hela, still standing, turned to glare at Lawton.  "This is against 
everything the Gorene Empire stands for!  I will have no part in this 
mission!"

"Such an impulsive act would lead to court martial and 
imprisonment, Pilot Selrase said Shylo in a threatening tone.

Roman looked up at Shylo.Pilot Selrase has been under a lot of 
stress, admiral, but she's one of my best pilots.  We need her: Roman 
gave Hela a meaningful look.  She took a deep breath and glanced down 
at the floor.

"I was wrong,she said."I'm sure the War Council knows what it's 
doing."

"We'll discuss this matter later; said Shylo."Right now, you have 
a mission to fly."

"I'm ready," said Lawton.  Let's do it:

Shylo nodded as the projection of his head disappeared, leaving 
the room in a shocked silence.

ASCALON RIFT--SECTOR IV.--HAITIN

Roman's strike group of fourteen pilots arrived in the Hattin 
system in silence.  The hyperjump had given Roman his usual headache, 
but his main concern was figuring out how to achieve his mission 
objectives without making Hattin uninhabitable, despite what the War 
Council wanted.  His strike group was composed of four Liberators and 
ten Scorpions, since the Mazuma fighter defenses and orbital mines 
would have to be overcome to reach the planet.  The Liberators, flown 
by Roman, Marsh Lawton, Kayla Brool, and Kara Hel-mar, had the 
responsibility of destroying the three zenzac storage satellites.

Judging by his tactical display, Roman saw that the first group of 
five Scorpions was about to make contact with the Mazuma patrol ships 
flying the outer barrier of Hattin defenses.  There appeared to be only 
five of the slow patrol ships, with Samso and Havenshire among the 
first group of Gorene fighters, so Roman wasn't concerned about their 
chances.  With the assistance of the local Intruder recon ship, Blue 
Eye, Roman laid in a course that would allow his Liberators to bypass 
the first Mazuma patrol and continue on toward Hattin.

"Gold Strike Leader, this is Strike four two nine.

"Go ahead, Kara.

"Have you decided how we're going to handle this zenzac problem?" 
"Not yet.  I'm still trying to come up with a way to destroy the 
satellites without dumping the zenzac isotope cloud into Hattin's 
atmosphere.

Why?" Lawton asked, defying communications protocol.

"Our objective is to eliminate the zenzac and kill everything on 
Hattin's surface.

"Why try to save them?  Because I've had contact with the Mazuma 
people.  Some of them have been very helpful to us.

I don't think the civilians should be killed just because the War 
Council wants to make a point.

Those are our orders; said Lawton.  "We can't just change the 
orders because you don't like them.

"As sector Commander, the tactical methods I use to carry out my 
orders is my decision.  The War Council seems to think it can expand 
its function by planning our missions for us, but they aren't here to 
evaluate the situation in live combat,said Roman.

"Personally,said Lawton, "I don't see why so many people are 
having a problem with this mission.  This is a war.

Killing people is what we do.  When the Alliance wants us to stop 
killing them, they'll surrender.  Until then, I intend to kill as many 
of them as possible before they kill me.  If that means blowing up a 
radioactive satellite and dumping its contents on a mining planet to 
kill the few Mazumas that live there, then I'm happy to do it.

I'll keep that in mind; said Roman.  Lawton had just given a brief 
summary of the true gorene philosophy.  Conquest at any cost.  The ends 
justify the means.  Why hadn't that philosophy been apparent to him 
before?  We'll let you do the shooting at the satellites if it comes 
down to that." 'That'll make me feel better; said Helmar.  "I'll fly 
SUpport, but I don't want to shoot those satellites down myself.

Brool joined the discussion."I find that it works better if you 
don't think about the lives involved.  Just think of the targets, like 
the zenzac satellites, and ignore the rest.  It's the only way to stay 
sane." Roman was confused.  Did they really have to act like robots to 
stay sane?  Was that the only way for a proud member of the Gorene race 
to survive?

You people disgust me;' said Lawton.You don't deserve to be Gold 
Squadron pilots.

Because we think?" Brool asked.  'You hate it when people think, 
don't you, Lawton?" I'm not paid to think; said Lawton.  I just do my 
job.

'Sorry to interrupt this stimulating discussion; said Roman,"but 
we seem to have another Mazuma patrol coming toward us.  They're trying 
to force us into their smart minefield.

Roman issued instructions to his second group of five Scorpion 
fighters.  Hela was in that group, although she'd been relieved of her 
command by Shylo as a punishment.

The Scorpions would intercept the eight incoming patrol ships 
while the Liberators skirted the edge of the mine field.

If they came across any more patrols, the Liberators would have to 
handle the threats themselves.

Roman's threat alarm buzzed as he came within range of a smart 
mine.  The mine had identified him as an enemy ship, so its navigation 
system had locked onto Roman's fighter as a target.  Once it got 
started, the mine moved quickly toward Roman's ship, so he punched in 
his afterburner and started flying an evasive pattern to break the 
mine's target lock.  By the time Roman decided that the mine wasn't 
impressed with his evasive tactics, Lawton swooped in and shot the mine 
out of the sky.

"Thanks, Marsh; said Roman.

"Well," said Lawton,"I would have blown it up sooner, but I always 
hate to take the life of a mine unnecessarily.  It just tears me up 
inside.

"Gold Strike Leader, this is Blue Eye.  Be advised that Scorpion 
flight five zero eight has left group two on a course to intercept you.  

Five zero eight is not responding to our transmissions.

"Confirm, Blue Eye,said Roman."Identity?"

"Gold Strike five zero eight is Pilot Selrase, inbound on one nine seven to your position.

"Thanks, Blue Eye.

What was Hela doing?  It wasn't like her to leave her assigned 
group and go off on her own--that was more his style.

Roman checked to see if Hela was in com range.  Gold Strike five 
zero eight, this is Gold Strike Leader.

Her voice on the comlink was dim, but clear.  "Roman, what are you 
going to do?

He was surprised by the question.  What?

You're the sector commander, Roman.  Shylo can't push you around 
so easily anymore.

Roman sighed.I still have to follow orders, Hela.  I don't get a 
vote in the War Council's decisions.

Those people are going to die, Roman!  Civilians!  They're not a 
part of this war!"

"They told us Hattin was sparsely populated.  It's a military 
target.

"Anything is a military target if Shylo says so, is that it?

The War Council selects our objectives?

"You're starting to sound like Lawton.  Why are you defending 
them?" I'm not defending them!  Why are you attacking Roman slammed his 
elbow into the side of the cockpit, then regretted his outburst.  His 
reaction surprised him.

Hela paused.  She tried to soften her tone.I'm trying to get you 
to think about what you're doing, Roman.  You can fight the problem or 
be a part of it.  You have a choice.  Think about your parents.  Your 
parents would never have attacked a civilian target, and certainly not 
an entire planet full of civilians.

Those were the old days, and command would never have assigned 
such a target.

Roman saw a hostile target appear on the tactical monitor, but it 
was still out of range."what do you want me to do?  I can't just recall 
the group and go back.  I'd face a court martial, and they'd put 
someone like Lawton in charge of the squadron.  Do you want that?  One 
way or another, we're committed to this mission."

"You have a choice, Roman.  The man I know would do the right 
thing."

Roman noticed he was grinding his teeth.  "Can't you see I'm not 
sure what that is?  Can't you just support my decision?

 I'm not asking you to land on Hattin and shoot civilians!

All you have to do is fly cover for the rest of us!  Is that so 
much to ask?"

"I can't support you when you're wrong, Roman.  I can't be a part 
of this." Her voice sounded sad and quiet.  Then she closed the connection.

Hela?"

No response.

Roman took a few deep breaths and tried to focus.

Couldn't she see that he was trying to find a way to save the 
planet and accomplish the mission?  The nav system showed they were 
about four minutes from their destination.

Hattin loomed ahead of them, a ball of blue and green wrapped in 
white bands of cottony clouds.  Roman thought it looked too nice to be 
a sparsely populated mining world, but Mazumans had four main planets.  
Having never seen the others, Roman wondered if this really was the 
least desirable of their four worlds.  Could Hela be right?  Maybe 
their superiors had lied to them about the population of Hattin.  What 
if the world was the center of Mazuma culture and government?

The communications monitor beeped as the undisguised face of a 
Mazuma pilot took shape.

'Hear me, leader of the Gorene squadron.  I am Tuta Phona of the 
Mazuma patrol forces.  You must leave this region at once.  Traffic is 
not allowed in Hatt'm's orbital space.

There are container satellites orbiting Hattin that contain deadly 
material of no strategic value.  These containers must not be 
disturbed.  If you don't heed my warning, we will all surely die!"

Roman introduced himself."If you wish to survive,Tuta Phona, I 
suggest that you leave the area immediately.

"Perhaps there is some form of financial arrangement that would 
allow us to keep our satellites intact?" asked Tuta Phona.

"I'm sorry, but we don't take bribes; said Roman.

Fox one,said Lawton, interrupting the conversation.

The monitor suddenly went dark as Roman saw a brief flash in the 
distance.

"I did not give the order to fire on that ship, Lawton!  I was 
giving him the chance to surrender; said Roman.

I saw the target, I shot the target," said Lawton."I'm following 
the admiral's mission plan.  You may outrank Blois Fulcher now, but 
Admiral Shylo still gives the orders."

"You're a maniac, Lawton.  You kill for sport.

"Is that a problem?"

They were approaching the first of the zenzac satellites.

Roman had to make a decision.  The unsuspecting planet below was 
certainly going to learn something about the way Gorenes fought a war, 
but was it the right thing to learn?

The Tancreds were capable of ruthless killing, but did that make 
it right for the Gorenes, with their supposedly higher standards, to do 
the same thing to the Mazuma people?  The Mazumans Roman had 
met--Copol, Vanna-Ty, Benes-Cy--seemed like decent beings.  Quark 
certainly wouldn't kill without reason.  EvenTuta Phona had tried to 
warn them off without firing a shot.

The matter was settled by Marsh Lawton, whose laser cut the zenzac 
satellite in half.  The exploding hulk of the satellite rotated wildly 
as it spun away toward the lower atmosphere, spilling its powdery white 
contents.  Roman imagined the screams of the planet's inhalitants as 
they all realized they were about to die.

I didn't think anyone else was going to do it; said Lawton.  His 
voice sounded mechanical.

As you said, we have our orders,Roman said solemnly.

Brool moved into position and cut the end off the second zenzac 
satellite with her laser.  Once again, the satellite went into a wild 
spin, moving away toward the surface of Hattin.

Eventually, it would burn up as it made a fiery plunge into the 
atmosphere, spilling its contents to form a toxic cloud that would kill 
all life on the planet within a matter of hours.

It was hard for Roman to imagine the magnitude of suffering that 
would result from their actions.  Innocent civilians, families, 
children, mothers, fathers, young, and old were all going to die soon.  
Roman imagined their screams as they realized the air they were 
breathing, the same air they had always taken for granted, was now 
dooming them with each breath.  He could do nothing to stop it.  The 
horror would continue until every living thing on the planet was dead.  
Hattin would become a cemetery world whose name was spoken only in 
whispered legends, the same way the Tancreds spoke of Tomb, their world 
of the dead.

Helmar located the third zenzac satellite and hovered close to it.  

She waited there, as if she was preparing to execute the killing blow, 
but her laser cannon never fired a shot.

As Roman watched Helmar, waiting to see if she'd damage the last 
zenzac container, a Gorene fighter approached at high speed.

Hela's voice was loud over the general squadron frequency."I can't 
let you do it!'

Roman was startled.  Hela?"

Lawton fired, and the third satellite tumbled away, spraying white 
powder in its wake.  Hela's fighter swooped past, then rolled suddenly 
to avoid the tumbling satellite.

"Murderers!  You call yourselves Gorene pilots?"

"I do; said Lawton,and that means I follow my orders:

Hela's fighter gradually turned to face them, slowing to a halt.

"Roman, I can't believe you did this,said Hela.  "This planet will 
die because of you!  Why wouldn't you listen to me?

Roman couldn't find the words to answer her.  Her voice cut right 
through him.  He saw no point in explaining that he never fired a shot 
at the satellites himself.  He was the leader of this strike group, and 
their actions were his responsibility whether he agreed with them or 
not.  But she was right; it was his indecisiveness that allowed Lawton 
to carry out the attack.  He could have stopped it, but he didn't.  A 
world was dying from his lack of courage.

"We had our mission to perform,said Brool.We did it.You should 
understand what that means, Hela.  Roman was doing his job, and so was 
I when I blew up one of these satellites.

You can rationalize it any way you want.  I'm not buying it,said 
Hela.

"I thought you made your choice earlier,said Brool.

Why are you here?

I wanted to stop you.  I thought I could talk Roman out of 
this:After a long pause, she finished her thought.I guess I was 
wrong...  about a lot of things.  You're pathetic, Roman.

You're one of them.  I'm sure you'll fit in quite well with 
Shylo's plans, but I can't be a part of this.  This isn't war, this is 
just murder.  Don't expect to see me again."

Hela's fighter turned away from them and raced away on full 
afterburner.

Roman had to clear his throat before he could speak.

Hela?

She didn't respond.  Roman felt helpless."Hela?

Where is she going?" Lawton asked, rotating his fighter.

someone has to bring her back!"

"No,said Roman.  She's made her choice."

What choice?  I'm going to bring her back!" No!  Roman turned his 
guns toward Lawton's ship.  If you defy my orders again, Lawton, I 
swear I'll blow you out of the sky!"

Lawton's ship hung motionless.  Finally, Lawton said, As you wish, 
Commander, but I'll be filing my own report about this mission."

You're free to do so,said Roman.  "I'm sure it will be 
entertaining.

"Gold Strike Leader, this is Blue Eye.Your zone is clear of 
bogies.  No new threats inbound.  Return vector two three two on the 
backside: Roman's response was automatic as the navigational 
coordinates were transmitted to his flight computer from the 
Intruder."Affirm, Blue Eye.  Vector two three two.  Gold Strike 
returning to base."

Roman had never felt so alone in his life.

CHAPTER 15 ASCALON RII.--SECTOR IImAR-1 Hela never returned from the mission to Hattin.

Intelligence reports indicated that the toxic zenzac cloud had, in 
fact, killed every living thing on the surface of Hattin.

The Mazuma government was stunned by the attack.  Alliance attacks 
in all sectors of the Ascalon Rift ceased immediately.

Admiral Shylo was ecstatic over the successful results of the 
Hattin mission.  The Gorene High Command was happy, the War Council was 
happy, Shylo was happy, and they all showered their congratulations on 
Roman Alexandria, who was miserable.

Two standard days passed, during which no new missions were flown.  

Roman spent most of his time in his room, staring at the ceiling and 
thinking about Hela Selrase.  For Roman, the manner in which she had 
left was almost worse than if she had died and never returned from a 
mission.  She was rejecting both Roman and the Gorene way of life.  Her 
rejection was not an easy thing for Roman to understand or accept.  An 
important part of his life had suddenly disappeared, leaving a gaping 
wound behind.  Buried in his soro row, Roman never heard the 
announcements for the mission briefing.  Blois Fulcher finally came to 
Roman's cabin to escort him to the briefing room.

The huge projection of Admiral Shylo's bald head was a disturbing 
sight.  As soon as Roman and Blois had made their way down the steps to 
the stage, Shylo started speaking.

For the first time, Roman noticed that Shylo's voice was quite 
irritating.

Shylo smiled briefly.  Fellow Gorenes, our unified effort has 
weakened the Alliance.  As a result, our intelligence sources inform us 
that a major event is about to unfold, although we are still unsure of 
what it may be.  All we know is that several diplomatic escort ships 
were tracked leaving the various Alliance homeworlds.

A simple strategic map showing ar-1 and two adjacent sectors of 
space, marked as Extaand Vigo,replaced the projection of Shylo's head.

These ships; Shylo continued,rendezvoused in the Exta Sector.  
Whomever they were transporting boarded a single cruiser that set off 
for an unpatrolled area of deep space in the Vigo Sector.

Shylo's head reappeared.They obviously want privacy and secrecy.  
Perhaps representatives from each civilization are meeting to discuss a 
possible surrender...  or to formulate regrouping strategies.  
Regardless of their motives, we must find out what this meeting is 
about.  Commander Alexandria, I want you to travel to the Vigo Sector 
alone and establish a line of communication with the diplomatic 
cruiser.  No patrol ships accompanied it, which means one of two 
things: either no important individuals are aboard the cruiser, or it 
contains very important people indeed.  It's quite possible that former 
foes who still don't quite trust one another are meeting in a neutral 
setting and 'leaving their guns at the door,' as I believe the saying 
goes." Roman blinked--why was he was being sent on this mission by 
himself?.  It seemed very odd not to have a wingman assigned to escort 
him.

If there are representatives from each of the Alliance races 
aboard," Shylo continued, "issue a warning that Prajna-7 is near 
completion, and we will use its full power against all of them if they 
do not cooperate with the Gorene expansion plan.  Reiterate, however, 
that we come in peace to enlighten the Ascalon Rift, not to conquer it.  

Your point will be reinforced when they realize you could have 
destroyed them at any time.  Although such an act would cripple the 
Alliance, Gorenes will never attack unarmed diplomatic ships." Roman 
nodded.  Shylo was speaking the words he expected to hear from a true 
Gorene officer.  Perhaps Roman's fears had been exaggerated.  However, 
he still questioned whether Shylo's idea of peace and enlightenment was 
the same as his own.  Two days earlier, he would have pictured the 
concept of peace as living quietly somewhere with Hela, raising a 
family.  Now, things didn't seem so clear.

"You should be quite safe, Commander Alexandria.  The diplomatic 
cruiser is clumsy, and poses no threat to a Gorene strike ship.  An 
Intruder will be posted in that sector as part of a special 
communications link to relay your transmission.

I anxiously await your report."

ASCALON RIFTsSECTOR VII--VIGO

Roman grew excited as the bulky diplomatic cruiser became visible 
on his tactical display.  The trip there had been silent and lonely, 
allowing Roman to dwell on the loss of Hela and the seeming futility of 
his own life.  With Hela gone, it seemed that the military provided his 
only reason for existence, but his previous black-and-white views of 
the world had become shades of gray, with no clear distinctions.  All 
he could think to do was to continue carrying out his duties, doing 
what was expected, surviving from day to day, and hoping that 
enlightenment would somehow come to him.

Roman initiated a full scan of the diplomatic cruiser and punched 
in full visual magnification on his monitor.  The cruiser did appear to 
be unarmed.  Bright coloring on the side of the cruiser caught Roman's 
attention, so he keyed in some image processing on the computer to 
bring out the deta'fis.  A moment later, four shield emblems came into 
focus.

The intelligence archive revealed that the shields iden-titled 
ships transporting leaders of the Alliance.  Four shields, four 
leaders.

Roman opened the special comlink relay to Admiral Shylo.

'Admiral, I've located and scanned the diplomatic cruiser.

It's unbelievable.  The leaders of the Alliance are conducting a 
secret meeting.  The ship bears the shields of Mazuma President 
PhenaWarratie,Tancred Overlord Zemlock,Amien Prime Founder Nebity 
Zaxalt, and Zemun High Father Kruga-had Longmoor.

Excellent," said Shylo."Open a line of communication with the 
cruiser and keep this link active so I can hear the conversation.

Roman used the Alliance hailing frequency to make the connection 
with the cruiser."This is Roman Alexandria, Sector Commander of the 
Gorene Gold Squadron.  I come with messages of peace.  The Gorenes seek 
a peaceful existence with all the races of the Ascalon Rift.  We can 
help solve your problems and share our wisdom with your people.

After a brief pause, Phena Warratie's face appeared on the 
communications monitor.You say you come in peace, but you have 
destroyed the planet Hattin.  You are a liar, Sector Commander.

Roman sighed."It was wrong of us to attack Hattin, but we were 
left with no choice.  We didn't assume an offensive posture until you 
declared war on us.

The image of the Mazuma president was replaced by the Amien, 
Nebity Zaxalt.  Our problems are ours to solve.  We don't need your 
help.

"We can work together; said Roman.  "Our medical people could end 
your plague.

Zaxalt shook his head.  "The Gorenes are the plague.

What gives you the right to think you can spread your Gorene ways 
here without our permission?" The Zemun, Krugahad Longmoor, took 
Zaxalt's place at the monitor.  You will not spread your values or your 
beliefs to my people.  Anjou knows all.  He created the Zemuns in his 
image, not yours.

'I ask you to accept my word,' said Roman.  We don't want this war 
to continue.  Let us settle in the Ascalon Rift.

We can share so much with you.  We don't want to force you to 
follow our ways.  How could that lead to our only goal of peaceful 
coexistence?" Admiral Shylow signaled for Roman's attention.  Commander 
Alexandria, the War Council has changed your orders.

Intelligence reports that the real purpose of their meeting is to 
plan a full scale attack on ar-1 and Prajna-7.  This provides us with a 
rare chance to weaken all of our opponents simultaneously.  A robot 
drone ship packed with explosives has hyperjumped to your coordinates.  
The drone will destroy the diplomatic cruiser and all aboard.  Your job 
now is to protect the drone, which should be there in a few minutes, 
and make sure it reaches its target.  Return to base after the cruiser 
is destroyed.

Roman was aghast.  Admiral!  The cruiser is unarmed.

You're talking'about an assassination!

It's a bloody war, Commander, and Goterie lives are being lost.  
The only rule in war is to win as quickly as possible.

This is our chance to do just that, before they kill more Gorenes.  

My order is final.

Roman's tactical monitor beeped as the drone ship entered the 
strike zone.  The tiny white blip, moving much faster than occupied 
ships could fly, was right on course to its target.

Overlord zemlock appeared on the communications monitor with an 
expression of outrage.  "Our scanners show us the truth, Gorene!  I 
knew I should never have agreed to this meeting without Tancred patrol 
ships to guard me.  Our mistrust for each other is going to get us 
killed.  Clever tactic,Alexandria.

Make contact, tell us lies about peaceful coexistence, and keep us 
here until your flying bomb can strike us down: Roman shook his head 
violently.I didn't know about this plan!

Zaxalt's calm face reappeared on the monitor.  If you didn't know, 
then your people lied to you.  You can't trust them, Commander 
Alexandria.  You know in your heart the Gorene presence in our region 
is wrong.  Join us.  You've been betrayed, as we have.  Help us.You're 
the only one who can save us.

Krugahad Longmoor appeared on the monitor.  Roman's head was 
swimthing.

Longmoor's gaze pierced Roman."I would rather be dead than see the 
Ascalon Rift and my people under the influence of the Gorenes.  Aniou 
holds my fate in his hands.  He will punish you, Alexandria, for the 
murder you commit.  You will drown in the blood of millions.  You will 
be tortured by the screams of those you subjugate.  Save your soul and 
destroy the bomb before it reaches us.

Roman didn't know what to do.  He couldn't grasp the depths of 
Shylo's evilness if he could commit such an act.

The probe had hyperjumped so quickly that Shylo must have had this 
plan in mind all along.  Suddenly, a Gorene face appeared on the 
monitor.  It was the defector, Krugon Dept.

Roman, it's me, Krugon: Krugon?  What are you doing here?" 'I've 
joined the Alliance, Roman.  I've turned my back on arrogant Gorene 
expansion.  Ferrand betrayed us and nearly got us killed.  Why?  For 
more territory?  More wealth?  More control over alien races that we 
have no business interfering with?  Shylo and the War CoUncil have 
betrayed you and the rest of the Gold Squadron.  They're asking you to 
be part of this brutal assassination.

Roman was speechless.

Don't let them get away with it,' pleaded Dept.  I've learned 
things that are shocking.  The War Council has no regard for you or the 
Gold Squadron.  We've received coded transmissions that indicate you 
will be attacked before you return to base.  Shylo doesn't want any 
witnesses to this attack to survive.  We're pawns in the ugly Gorene 
quest for power, Roman.  Shylo will blame you for this 
assassination--is that how you want to be remembered?  I made my 
decision, now it's time for you to make yours.

Roman watched the inexorable flight path of the robot drone, 
mindlessly carrying its load of explosives toward its target.  The 
cruiser wasn't trying to escape because they knew they couldn't outrun 
the bomb.  Even Roman couldn't outrun a ship moving at that speed.  
Their only hope was for Roman to intervene.

Then Hela Selrase appeared on his monitor.  At first, he thought 
he was hallucinating, but then she spoke to him.

Listen to us, Roman.  I know it's shocking, but it's true.

Your friend, Quark, sent us the decoded intercept about their 
plan.  He wants you to survive, as we all do.

Hela?  Is that really you?" Shylo spoke to Roman with a calm 
voice, sounding like the voice of reason."Don't listen to them, 
Commander.  They're liars, using clever gimmicks and illusions to 
confuse you.

Are you foolish enough to believe that Dept and Selrase are really 
with them?  They're Mazuman disguises.  Don't destroy your brilliant 
career.  Remember why we're here: to spread Gorene wisdom and wealth 
throughout the Ascalon Rift and improve the lives of all its 
inhabitants." 'Except for the inhabitants we kill?" Roman asked.

Alien faces swam across the monitor.  Phena Warratie said, Join 
us, Commander Alexandria.  Listen to your friends.

Only you can help us save what is rightfully ours.

Zemlock snarled at him."What will it be, Alexandria?  Do you have 
honor, or are you a liar like your Admiral Shylo?"

Dept's panicked face appeared."The explosives ship will strike any 
minute, Roman.  Save us!  Don't trust Shylo.

Shylo cajoled him.  "Commander Alexandria, stand aside and let the 
drone ship strike its target.  Don't become a traitor.

Remember the Gorene lives that have been lost in this war.

Hela's face showed nothing but concern.  'Roman, I wouldn't lie to 
you.  WeYe known each other since our first day at the academy.  I care 
about you.  Blast the ship and come with us.

Roman wasn't sure what was real anymore.  There seemed something 
right and wrong about both sides.  He knew the Mazumans could 
shapeshift, but if Hela and Dept were dead, how could the Alliance know 
enough to use their faces against Roman?  His parents had died in the 
service of the Gorene Empire--if they were alive, would they respect 
him or shun him for switching sides?  On the other hand, what would he 
lose by joining the Alliance?

Even if Roman continued rising in his career, he would only become 
closer to those he was learning to hate.  Perhaps that was the 
key:Admiral Shylo had lied to him repeatedly.

Roman had allowed Shylo to manipulate him into deceiving the 
Tancred freighter captain, to destroy Hattin, and to attack this 
unarmed diplomatic cruiser.  The Gorene way had become the way of lies 
and death, and Roman wanted no part of it.

The robot drone was less than a minute away from reaching its 
target, but it would have to get past Roman first.

Roman swung the Liberator directly into the path of the drone.  
The drone would be able to correct its flight in time to avoid the new 
obstacle, but that maneuver would give Roman an extra second and a 
better shot.  He knew he had only one chance to knock it down before it 
delivered its deadly payload.  There would be no room for mistakes.  
His main problem was to get the targeting system recalibrated fast 
enough so that he could launch a missile at a Gorene target.  The 
automatic error correction systems built into the targeting computer, 
which normally operated in synchronization with the automated 
friend-or-foe transponder, made sure that Gorenes didn't blow up other 
Gorenes by mistake.

Roman had the panel off the tracking system computer in seconds.  
His manual recalibration would be crude, a matter of disconnecting the 
transponder receiver, but it would be sufficient.  The disconnects were 
designed to be operated by pilots with damaged transponders who would 
not appreciate being disarmed by their own computers.  The surgery 
complete, the tactical display changed the color of the drone from 
white to red, matching the red outline of the diplomatic cruiser.

Now that the targeting computer was receiving false information, 
it was more than happy to lock a missile onto the the incoming threat.  
The bomb drone was not smart enough to use evasive maneuvers for 
missile avoidance.  Drones depended on speed, not skill or 
intelligence.

Roman punched the fu-ing button.  He felt a slight recoil 
vibration as the missile raced away from the Liberator, streaking 
toward the incoming drone.

The drone exploded almost too close to Roman and the cruiser, and 
the massive shock wave shook both ships.  The Liberator's shields 
sparkled in the shower of charged par-tides and debris.  Roman shielded 
his eyes from the bright flash and shuddered.  The bomb had nearly 
ended all of their lives.

Hela appeared on Roman's monitor.  Her smile was brighter than 
he'd seen it in a long time.Great job, Roman!

You did the right thing by stopping Shylo's vile assass'man plot.  
You won't regret this.  What you've done proves that you're a true 
Gorene.  I'm downloading jump coordinates to your ship's SFG computer 
so that you can return with us to the rebel base.  I'm looking forward 
to seeing you again.

Roman looked forward to seeing Hela again, too.  he thanked Hela, 
then watched the diplomatic cruiser move off slowly and majestidy.  
They weren't going to wait around to see what else Admiral Shylo would 
throw at them.

Roman could still detect a glow in the space where the drone ship 
had exploded.  In a sense, the destruction of the drone was also the 
destruction of Romaifs past.  Goterie ideals, might remain in his 
character, but their methods had changed and he could no longer be a 
part of that.  Life as he had known it was over.

CHAPTER 16 ASCALON RIFT--SECTOR IVtALLIANCE BASE ALPHA Alliance Base Alpha, 
located on a large asteroid in the Hattin system, had been built by the 
Mazuma government as a secure place to combine the various alien fleets 
as they became operational.  It was never intended to be a permanent 
base, so it looked as if it had been hastily thrown together from spare 
parts.  Roman's first impression of the base was that it looked 
functional, but flimsy, as if a breeze might blow it away.  
Fortunately, there was no atmosphere on the asteroid.  However, Roman 
knew the construction of the base required sophisticated technology, 
since the asteroid had been hollowed out by the Mazumas so that most of 
the base was inside, shielded from radiation and from scanning by the 
casual observer.

After Roman touched down in the landing bay with his Liberator, 
the craft disappeared through a tunnel opening to be processed into one 
of the massive hangars.  The system seemed efficient, but he had 
arrived ahead of the cruiser, so no one was there to greet him or tell 
him where to go next.

He knew he couldn't stand around in the automated landing bay, so 
he searched and found a small door leading through an airlock into an 
observation area.

Roman's first shock was seeing Blois Fulcher standing there waiting for him.  No one else was around.

Blois?"

'Surprise Blois said with a smile.

'What are you doing here?"

'You don't think you can go anywhere without me, do you?  I 
monitored your communications with the admiral.

When Shylo changed his orders, I knew what you'd do, so I made my 
escape in the chaos that followed." So many strange things had 
happened, it was hard for Roman to stay shocked for very long.  He 
nodded, looked down at the floor, then squinted at Blois."Tell me I 
didn't make the biggest mistake of my life by coming here.  Part of me 
feels as if I've betrayed my people, but another part believes in what 
I did.  Am I a traitor?" Blois put a hand on Roman's shoulder.  You can 
only betray yourself, Roman.  You did the right thing.  I wouldn't be 
here if I didn't believe in you and your decision.  Do you remember the 
oath you took on your first day at the academy?

We pledged to 'dedicate ourselves to technical, educational, 
personal, and economic improvement everywhere that life exists." 
Remember?" Blois turned and walked over to look through the observation 
window at the empty landing bay."Shylo and Ferrand had a distorted view 
of that ideal.  We have no business here in the Ascalon Rift.  What can 
we offer these alien races?  We're the aliens here.  They're advanced 
civilizations who have their own ways, so they don't need our wealth or 
ideals.  Our presence here is solely expansionism for the sake of 
power.  We should have made a peaceful approach to these people with 
trade and diplomacy, not imperialism and ultimatums.

"We're still Gorenes, Blois.  We haven't turned our backs on the 
Gorene ideal to advance the universe.  We've only rejected the schemes 
of greedy and corrupt leaders who lost sight of the true Gorene 
mission?

'Exactly.  Sounds like you've answered your own question about 
betrayal."

Roman rubbed his neck.  His headache was fading, but he still felt 
tense."We have to drive Shylo away.  The Gorenes of the Ascalon Rift 
are our enemies now.

The only way we can force them to leave the Ascalon Rift is to 
destroy Prajna-7 before it's fully armed and manned."

WAnd we're too exposed here in the Hattin system.  It won't be 
long before they find this base, possibly within hours or days.  We 
have to move someplace safe and build a base for the Alliance.

Blois turned to look at Roman, who suddenly realized what Blois 
was thinking.

We've already got an answer for that one," said Blois.

"The information from the probes never went beyond you and me, and 
I destroyed those coded records before I left ar-1.The planet we found 
inVesto-3 has an excellent atmosphere.

There's also a primitive civilization on the planet to help 
disguise our'activities, so we should be safe there for quite some 
time."

"So it all depends on how quickly Shylo looks for us.

How long do you think it'll be before they organize a major attack 
on this system?"

Blois smiled.  Roman noted he was smiling much more than he ever 
did when they were on ar-1."You were the most respected leader in the
forces.  The pilots understood and trusted you.  Your defection will 
create a wave of doubt and chaos." Roman snorted."I thought Shylo would 
tell them I was killed during my mission.

"No," said Fulcher, shaking his head."People will know the truth.  
As I said, I was monitoring your communication with Shylo.  When I 
realized what you were going to do, I recorded a brief summary of the 
situation to be automatically delivered through the public messaging 
system six hours after my departure.

"Then it will be a while before Shylo can manage a full re-con of 
this system?"

"The main thing,said Blois,"is that Shylo has to rebuild a chunk 
of his command from scratch, so this is our chance to slip away 
undetected."

Their attention was diverted by the booming arrival of a shuttle.  
When its airlock doors opened, they saw it had come in from the 
diplomatic cruiser, presumably still in orbit around the asteroid since 
it was too large to land on a base of that size.  Hela Selrase was the 
first person out of the shuttle.  She ran across the landing bay toward 
the observation room occupied by Roman and Blois.  Having known about 
their"secret" relationship all along, Blois watched with a pleased 
smile as Roman and Hela lunged toward each other.

Roman met her at the door.  "You took your time getting here."

Hela's only response was to throw her arms around Roman and give 
him a long kiss.

"Not that I'm complaining," said Roman, after she let him come up 
for air.

ASCALON RIFr--VESTO-3---NEW ALLIANCE BASE Three months had passed 
since Roman Alexandria defected to the side of the Alliance.  During 
that time, the Alliance had constructed a formidable military base in a 
backwater region of the Ascalon Rift known as ¥esto-3.The third planet 
of the local star had a wide range of climates, but Roman and Blois had 
chosen one of the vast deserts in which to construct the new fortress.

Fleet movements had presented some logistical problems during this 
period, but the gradual consolidation of the various warships available 
to the Alliance had brought the greater portion of the offensive forces 
to the Vesto-3 system.

New sources of coranine and zenzac were located among the local 
asteroids and outer planets, providing them with substantial new 
sources of supplies for the warships.

Roman wasted no time in establishing communication with the local 
labor force, trading food and supplies in return for their help during 
the construction of the base.  The locals were simple people, humanoid, 
shorter than the average Gorene, and wore clothing that did little to 
cover their muscular bodies in the hot climate.  They seemed to have a 
good sense of humor because they often pointed and laughed at Roman and 
his friends, sometimes mimicking the way the aliens walked.  Perhaps 
because Roman had made contact with the local people, they seemed to 
prefer his company to that of the Tancreds or the other aliens.

Even though they had a low technology civilization, with a city 
built of mud huts, the locals learned fast and worked hard with the new 
high-tech tools, hollowing out a mountainside and building two 
pyramid-shaped structures for the base.  The hangar bays, living 
quarters, and sophisticated equipment were located inside the mountain 
to avoid detection by Gorene probes and scanners.  Officers were housed 
in one of the pyramids, while the other pyramid concealed long-range 
sensors and scanning equipment directed toward the blue sky.

Now the fleet was ready for its first major operation under the 
joint command of Tancred Overlord Klool and Roman Alexandria.  Since 
Roman had become Blois's superior officer with his promotion to sector 
commander, Blois had stepped back to allow Roman the lead role.  Over 
the previous three months, Roman and Blois had worked hard to develop 
trusting relationships with the leaders of the Alliance.

Overlord Klool was one of the progressive Tancred leaders, charged 
with the command of the far-flung military forces operating under the 
banner of the Alliance.  Roman had found Klool to be a well-educated, 
open-minded, and clever individual who shared many common interests 
with him.

Klool taught Roman the Tancred logic and strategy game known as 
Tetrax, which had turned into a gambling addico tion on Orentes.  They 
spent many hours competing with each other to be first to organize the 
pyramid shapes.  The game appealed to the need for control and order 
that both of them found necessary in their lives.

Roman, Blois, and Klool stood on a pyramid-shaped platform to 
address the assembled pilots of the Alliance.  Although many of them 
had worked with the Gorenes during the last three months, trust of the 
Gorenes among the Alliance members was not universal.  Roman held up 
his hand to quiet the murmuring crowd.  Among the sea of strange faces, 
only the independent Nomen were absent, since they had decided to carry 
on their own battles with the Gor-enes, keeping them busy while the 
secret base at Vesto-3 was constructed.

The last few months have not been easy; Roman began.

'We've had our share of disagreements.  It has been difficult for 
former enemies to trust one another, and the uncomfortable desert 
weather has made everything all the more trying.

I appreciate your patience during the time we've spent hiding and 
building here.  We had to be sure that the Gorenes had no idea where 
we'd fled.  Now, after months of careful planning, we're finally ready 
for action--if we can put our differences behind us and band together 
as a unified team.

Roman stopped to judge the crowd's reaction.  As usual, he was 
having a hard time reading their expressions, but they remained silent, 
so he continued.  "You must see Officer Fulcher, Pilot Selrase, Pilot 
Dept, and myself not as Gorenes--your enemies--but as part of your 
cooperative Alliance.  We do not believe that the Gorenes belong in the 
Ascalon Rift, and that's why we decided to join you.  Even though we 
are underdogs in this struggle, with limited supplies and limited 
numbers, I know we can win if we stick together.

It seemed to be going well.  None of the crowd had left the room 
or fallen asleep, so Roman was encouraged.

"Our first mission is to determine the status of ar-1.

When I left to join you, the Gorenes were preparing to evacuate 
the base.  We're not sure if this has occurred yet, but shortly before 
he left, Officer Fulcher reprogrammed ar-1's self-destruct program, 
which he linked to a trigger mechanism at the top of the base's dome.  
I plan to fly a fighter to the base myself, accompanied by a full 
strike wing.

If the trigger mechanism is still operational, we may be able to 
destroy it.  That would destroy the base and cripple Gorene military 
efforts from that flank."

A particularly ominous Tancred pilot stood up and glared at Roman.  

It took a moment, but Roman finally recognized him as 
Stellerex."You're going to return to the Gorenes and tell them where 
we're hiding!  I knew this was a trick.

"I give you my word, Stelierex, this is not a trick." Stellerex 
hissed."You once gave your word to my friend, Captain Tawl Shud.  Look 
where it got him.  I will accompany you to ar-1.You will not lie while 
I watch you.

Klool gestured at Stellerex to sit down.  "I admit that I have 
hesitations as well.  This could be an elaborate Gorene plot to deceive 
us, but I have worked with these Gorenes for the past three months, and 
I think we can trust them.

Roman nodded at Klool."You have to trust us.  Without my knowledge 
of Gorene tactics and their bases, you'll never win before they receive 
reinforcements and complete the construction of Prajna-7: President 
PhenaWarratie spoke from the front row.The Mazumas have a say in this 
also.  I believe we can trust these Gorenes to help us: "You had better 
be correct, shapeshifter,said Stellerex, glaring at Warratie.

Urco, another Tancred pilot seated beside Hela Selrase, stood with 
a growl.  I don't agree!  I smell a trap!" Hela laughed, surprising 
everyone."You smell yourself, Urco.  Now you know what I've had to put 
up with for the last three months.  When are you going to realize that 
we're on your side?" Urco was not pleased with the resulting laughter 
from the crowd.  He glared at Hela.  "There could be a hundred Gorene 
ships waiting to attack us when we arrive." Then you can stay here, 
Urco; said Roman.  I'll take other pilots if you don't have the stomach 
for it.

Urco looked down at his stomach with a frown.I have a stomach!  
Don't tell me I don't have a stomach!" When he heard more laughter from 
the crowd, Urco sat down in defeat and confusion.  Hela patted him on 
the top of the head to console him, which he didn't seem to mind.

Roman was impressed that Hela always had the same effect on men, 
whether they were Gorene or alien.

Vonric Blacklost, commander of the Zemun dreadnought, stood up in 
the front row, smiling at Hela in the row behind him before turning to 
face Roman."Count me in.  I would like nothing more than to watch that 
garish Gorene base explode into a billion pieces.  If you wish, you may 
accompany me aboard my dreadnought, Commander Alexandria.

Roman smiled.  "I appreciate your offer, Commander Blacklost.  
Perhaps next time.

Blacklost nodded and sat down.  The dust storm brewing outside 
managed to howl through the doors, blowing dust into the room.  Since 
the atmosphere of the planet was nontoxic, airlocks and other 
atmospheric seals were not required on the base, which saved a 
considerable amount of effort during the construction of the fortress.  
However, the Tancreds were quite vocal about their dislike of the hot 
weather.  Lord Kraw was one of the dissenters.  He took the momentary 
silence as another opportunity to express his opinion.

This is a terrible place to have a base,said Kraw."This is a large 
world with diverse climates.  Why are we in the middle of a barren 
desert?  Can't we move someplace where the temperature is cooler and 
the air is fresher?

Roman looked at Klool to allow him to answer, but he saw that 
Klool was sweating also.  "It's doubtful that the Gorenes will find 
this planet, but if they do, they'll surely scan regions where life 
would be most abundant and como fortable.  They won't think we're 
torturing ourselves by living in a scorching desert where life itself 
barely exists.

Yeah, we sure fooled them; mumbled Kraw as he wiped the sweat from 
the top of his head.

The Zemun pilot, Endilskar Dardrac, was another grumbler who hated 
to miss an opportunity, so he stated his own complaint.The primitive 
desert dwellers who call this place home are strange and have no souls.  

They offend Anjou.  We can't trust such simple creatures to continue 
helping us: Hela mined to face the Zemun."Don't be foolish.  They're in 
awe.  It's a combination of fear, wonder, and excitement all at once.  
Put yourself in their place, Endilskar.  Their civilization has barely 
been born, and they can't comprehend the arrival of aliens--especially 
when the aliens are as ugly as the Tancreds: The crowd laughed again.  
Roman knew ttela was trying to keep the conversation light so that they 
might all remain friends, or as close as they'd ever get to being 
friends, after the past.

Stellerex looked at hela."We may not be beautiful in your eyes, 
Pilot Selrase, but we are brave and honorable and--" ttela dismissed 
Stellerex with a wave."Yeah, yeah.  Let's get on with the mission: 
Stellerex didn't know what else to say, so he sat down with a puzzled 
expression.  Roman was impressed that Hela could bait the Tancreds so 
often and get away with it, but they actually seemed to like it.

"The.  sooner we end this war, the sooner I can get out of this 
desert; said Kraw.

ASCALON RIFT--SECTOR H--ar-1 Krugon should have blown it up when he had the chance, Hela said 
over Roman's comlink.

Hela was flying a Tancred Warlord ship alongside Roman's Gorene 
Scorpion fighter.  They were approachingAR-1, flying in the 
considerable shadow of Blacklost's Zemun dreadnought along with several 
other Tancred craft.  The Gorene outer barrier patrol had already 
been eliminated and the Alliance ships were moving in fast on their target.

"What?" Roman asked.

"ar-1.  Dept had the chance to blow it up, but he couldn't go 
through with it.  He had too many friends there at the time.

That's why he left that warning note for Quark.  He knew somebody 
would take care of the problem before all the atmosphere leaked away.  
That's why he didn't sabotage the whole system: "He told you all this?  
I thought he'd want to keep it a secret from the Alliance: "He didn't 
tell anyone else but me.  He wanted to demonstrate his goodwill to the 
Alliance, so he set the bomb.  If they'd done a mindscan to see if he 
was telling the truth, they would have been able to verify his story.  
Of course, the Zemuns didn't scan him, they just trusted him.  They're 
funny that way--and their words actually mean something: Roman started 
to respond, but he was interrupted by the shrill sound of an alarm.  
Someone had a target lock on his ship.  He started an evasive maneuver, 
then canceled it as the alarm shut off.

"Did I startle you?" Stellerex asked.

Roman slapped his forehead as he realized how stupid he'd been.  
"I never changed my transponder settings: 'That's a good way to get 
killed, Gorene: Roman hastily made the correction inside his instrument 
panel.  The change in his targeting system had already been made so 
that he could shoot at Gorene targets, but the transponder still 
identified his Scorpion as a Gorene ship, which could lead to problems 
in a situation like this one.

Thanks for mentioning it, Stellerex: "Just remember we're on the 
same side now, Gorene.  I'm watching you."

Roman had a feeling there was a real threat nearby.  His eyes 
carefully scanned the blackness around them, section by section, until 
he finally saw two Scorpions, cloaked so they wouldn't show up on 
sensors.

The angry face of Shyke Samso appeared on Roman's communications 
monitor."I wondered how long it would take you to show your traitorous 
face.  You're an enemy of the Gorene Empire.  I trusted you, and you 
betrayed us."

Roman was about to respond when the image on the monitor 
disappeared.  Then he saw the flash of Samso's ship exploding as a 
Tancred fighter swept past it.  This was the part of the plan that 
Roman dreaded the most: killing his former friends and teammates.  He 
hoped he wouldn't run into any more pilots he knew well, but that was 
unlikely.

There was a second flash in the distance as the other cloaked 
Gorene fighter exploded.

Alliance intelligence had reported that two Gorene strike groups 
were going afterTancred targets in the Orentes system, leaving ar-1 
lightly defended after the three month lull in aggression by the 
Alliance.  Roman was sure the Gorenes felt confident now, since they 
felt free to send a major portion of theirAR-1 forces to distant 
battles.  Shylo had fallen back into his old pattern, thinking only in 
terms of offense instead of defense.

ar-1 was rapidly approaching.  Now that the attackers had been 
detected by the inner patrols they had just destroyed, the Gorene base 
was launching more fighters.  Roman and Hela stayed with the Zemun 
dreadnought as the rest of the strike group peeled off to engage the 
Gorene defenders.  They had planned this earlier so that Roman and Hela 
could avoid fighting their friends as much as possible while going 
after the explosive trigger in the ar-1 dome.

Roman activated his armaments panel.  Several lights flashed in 
response to show that the targeting computer and the auxiliary systems 
were ready.

Strike Two, this is Strike Leader."

Two:

Lock and load, Hela.  Ignore the rest and shoot for the dome.  Vonric will take out the shields."

"I can't do this, Roman."

Roman knew why she was hesitating.  'Shylo sent two large strike 
groups to the Orentes sector.  Most of the pilots we know will be 
there."

Her voice was grim.  Maybe:

"They're the enemy now, Hela."

Roman heard Blacklost's voice over the comlink as he spoke to his 
gunners on the dreadnought."Commence firing on shields: The Zemun 
Hellfire weapon hurled multiple streams of glowing purple plasma at 
ar-1.The shields of the Gorene base glittered as they were struck by 
the continuous flow of the charged particles.  As the dreadnought 
continued its approach to the base, the stream got bright enough that 
Roman was unable to look at it directly.  He was glad he wasn't on the 
receiving end of the Hellfire's considerable wrath, since the 
dreadnought could generate enough power to make a Gorene fighter's 
shields disappear immediately, leaving it completely exposed to other 
types of attack.

"Strike Two, throttle back to one-fifty, max conserve, and cloak 
it," said Roman.  He wanted to give the dreadnought time to do its job.  

In the meantime, there was no need to get much closer or remain 
exposed to the Gorene targeting systems on the base.  Roman checked the 
charge on his cloaking battery and activated the system now that they 
were moving slow enough to use it.

ar-1 used all of its available power to maintain its shields, but 
the Hellfire weapon had finally worn them down.  When the shields 
failed, ar-1 started firing back at the dreadnought with its lasers, 
which were unable to penetrate the Zemun shields.  The dreadnought 
responded with its other special weapon, the Energy Siphon.

The Energy Siphon was designed to operate only after the target's 
shields were down.  It formed a connection between the dreadnought and 
the target, sucking energy from the victim back to the weapon's 
capacitor to power weapons, shields, or maneuvering engines.  The 
victim would lose the same amount of power that the Zemun ship gained.

While the dreadnought maintained its focus as ar-1's primary 
target, Roman moved closer and locked his targeting system on the dome 
of ar-1.  If Blois's self-destruct reprogramming was still intact, a 
direct hit on the dome would trigger the explosives aboardAR-1.  
Originally intended to be used only if aR-1 was about to be captured, 
the designers had not included a fail-safe system to restrict the 
effects of sabotage.

"Fox one away; said Roman, as he launched the first torpedo.

Hela's voice surprised him."Fox one?

Hela's torpedo followed Roman's straight into the dome.

The explosions severely damaged the dome, but it took four more 
torpedoes from each of them to penetrate the dome and trigger the 
self-destruct system.

The resulting explosion caught them by surprise.  The dreadnought 
could only back away slowly, so Roman and Hela used the bulk of the 
ship for a shield against the shock wave coming their way.  They were 
able to gain only a short distance from ar-1 when they were caught by 
the first shock, then struck by fragments that shook their ships as the 
pieces hit their shields.  Roman glanced into his rearview to see the 
dreadnought rotating faster against the backdrop of what appeared to be 
an expanding star formerly occupying the position of ar-1.  He looked 
away so that he wouldn't go blind, since the filters in the cockpit 
canopy and his helmet would be overloaded by such brilliant intensity.

"Commander Alexandria, we would appreciate a warning next time; 
said Vonric Blacklost."That explosion was much larger than we expected.  

Fortunately, Anjou was on our side:

Roman looked back again to see the dreadnought plod ding along behind them.  The star behind it was fading fast.

"It surprised me too,Vonric.  Sorry about that.

"We have sustained only medium-level damage said Black-lost.

"Our shields absorbed much of the impact.  The new self-repair 
technology, which Officer Fulcher installed with our technicians, will 
be put to a good test this day.  If your Gorene nanobots are as good as 
you say they are, we should have little damage left by the time we 
return to the base.

"Blois knows what he's doing,said Roman."He helped design the original system with our Gorene scientists."

"We shall see.  We are in Anjou's hands."

The various elements of the Alliance strike group wasted no time 
in forming up on the dreadnought for the return trip to the base in the 
Vesto-3 system.  During this process, Roman noticed that Hela remained 
very quiet.

"Thanks for the help, Hela.  That dome was a lot harder to crack 
than I thought it would be.

"I did my job, that's all; said Hela."No need to thank me.

I just wonder which of our friends was aboard when the base 
exploded: "We'll find out next time," said Roman."Prajna-7 won't be so 
lightly defended now that they've lost their only forward base2 ASCALON RIFT-sEcTOr-3-.-NEW AllIANCE BASE

The destruction of ar-1 was a complete success in the eyes of the 
Alliance.  Roman was now recognized by the aliens to be a capable 
leader--aided by Overlord Klool, of course.  Roman and Hela made a 
brief appearance at the victory celebration upon their return to the 
new Alliance base, then sneaked away to their room.  Among their new 
friends in the Alliance, Roman and Hela were able to have their 
relationship out in the open, but it was still difficult to get 
uninterrupted privacy.

Their room contained two hard chairs, a writing table, and a bed 
that was too small for two people, but they had come to appreciate the 
spartan simplicity.  Excess baggage, along with the flotsam and jetsam 
of personal memorabilia, had been left behind on ar-1 with their pasts.  

This space that they shared was a safe haven where they could speak of 
rebellion, plan, and dream together without fear of being caught or 
exposed.  Despite the stark surroundings, their room held the luxury of 
freedom.

Returning from the mission, they had undressed in silence to lay 
on the bed and stare at the dim glow panel in the ceiling.  Their mood 
was grim, thinking about the Gorene friends they had left behind who 
might now be dead.  They wished they could have left their former lives 
behind without a struggle, but the past refused to die so easily.

"You know we have to go after Prajna-7," Roman said.

His voice echoed off the bare walls.

"I know; Hela lightly placed her hand on his chest.

"They still haven't finished it.  That means we have a chance to destroy it while the core is st'ill exposed."

"I know.

"And there's bound to be a lot of confusion after the loss of 
ar-1.  Shylo might even panic.

Hela rolled onto her side so she could look into Roman's eyes.  
"Which one of us are you trying to convince?"

Roman sighed."I just want it all to stop.  I don't want to kill 
anymore.  I just want to be left alone to live here with you.

"Yes,'Hela said, kissing his cheek."Soon: 'We have to keep killing 
our friends; Roman's voice was faint.

Hela put her head down on his chest."One more time; she said."Then 
it can stop.  Then it can all stop.  You'll see: Roman wanted to 
believe her, but he was unconvinced.

He stroked her hair."Yes.  One more time: After a sleepless night, 
Roman and Hela emerged from their room the next morning to find a mound 
of food outside their door--another offering from the primitive local 
inhabitants.

The locals understood that something wonderful had happened, and 
that Roman was responsible for it, even if they didn't understand the 
nature of that wonderful thing.

At the mission briefing after breakfast, the mood among the crowd 
was much better.  Success, and full stomachs, gave them courage.  They 
were anxious to hear what Roman had to say.

"My friends; Roman said to the assembly,"we have been given a 
perfect opportunity.  Our intelligence reports show that Prajna-7 is 
still unfinished.  Three thousand Gorene forces are on their way to man 
the base, since the War Council is concerned about its safety.  
However, those reinforcements will not arrive for two standard days.  
If we strike quickly, we can attack Prajna-7 while it's guarded only by 
a light, battle-weary defensive force."

There were murmurs of approval among the crowd as Roman continued.  

"This will be our most challenging mission, and perhaps our last if we 
succeed.  We will use everything we have in three strike groups.  
First, we'll have to defeat the Gorene fighters, destroy the mines 
surrounding the base, and attack any defensive satellites they have in 
position.  The main force will be involved in these activities as the 
small third group strikes Prajna-7's main generator, which should lead 
to a chain reaction explosion that will destroy the base.  This is a 
wonderful opportunity to end the war in the Ascalon Rift."

The crowd applauded, honked, stomped their feet, and made hooting 
noises to show their approval of the plan.

Blois stepped forward and smiled at the crowd."We've come a long 
way.  Let's pull together one last time and win this war: Blois's words 
were greeted with more clapping and hooting.

At first, Roman found the alien noises disturbing, but he knew 
they meant well.

i'm proud to have flown with each of you; said Roman.

We've been through a great deal.  We've had our differences, and 
we've all witnessed and taken part in acts that have made us question 
our values and beliefs.  Despite the obstacles, we have remained 
together and accomplished what we set out to do to free the Ascalon 
Rift.  If we do win this war, it will be because of your efforts: The 
crowd started in again with the clapping and honking, but Overlord 
Klool held up his hand for silence.

I don't wish to argue with you, Commander Alexandria, but if we do 
win this war, it will be because of you."

Roman smiled and looked down at his shoes.  Before the crowd went 
nuts again, Blois said:"We will win through all of our efforts: "Thank 
you, my friends, for not giving up when you could have...  and probably 
should have.  Thank you," said Roman.

The Tancred Lord Kraw jumped up from his seat."Does this mean I 
can finally get off this planet?  I hate it here."

Most of the crowd laughed, although some of the Tancreds nodded their heads in agreement.

"Really?" Roman asked."I like it here."

"That's because the locals think you're their god," said "You have 
a point, but what's wrong with that?" Roman asked.

SelraSe smiled at Kraw."They probably think you represent supreme 
evil, Kraw.

"And what's wrong with that?" Kraw asked.

Roman allowed the laughter to die down as he shook the hands of 
Blois and Overlord Klool.  When the crowd had calmed down, Roman 
concluded the briefing."Don't think this mission will be easy.  Many of 
you may not return.  We may not have as many pilots as the Gorenes do, 
but our weapons are strong and we are defending your home-worlds.

Destroy Prajna-7, and you destroy the Gorene presence in the 
Ascalon Rift.

The crowd went wild.  Roman hoped he could make himself believe 
what he'd just said.  If not, he was sending them all to their doom.

CHAPTER 17 ASCALON RIft-secTOR IwPRAJNA-7 Roman's hyperjump headache was back.  He was standing on the 
starbridge of the Zemun dreadnought, watching the forward viewscreen as 
Vonric Blacklost guided them toward their destination, the Prajna-7 
battle station.  Roman glanced over his shoulder at Hela and Blois, 
standing at the rear of the bridge, their expressions sad and grim.  
Long-range scans had shown that Admiral Shylo's flagship was not 
present in the area, so Roman assumed he had shifted his command center 
to the bridge of Prajna-7.  The flagship would be parked in one of the 
battle station's cavernous hangars.

The battle station was still showing a fair amount of open 
framework as construction continued, and it seemed to be behind 
schedule, even though the central section had a finished appearance.  
The laser bays around the core were in place but, to Roman's trained 
eye, the heavy gun bays that bristled along the battle station's outer 
faces were clearly inoperative.  One entire face of the battle station 
was a spiderweb of metal framing that left one side of the main 
generator exposed at the core.  When the station was completed, the 
main generator would be an impossible target, blanketed with hundreds 
of decks and heavy equipment.

Intelligence reports indicated that the strike groups returning 
from the Orentes system had been thrown into chaos when they found 
theirAR-1 forward base missing.  Desperate for a place to land, many of 
the ships went to the Mooris space dock, which was not able to refuel 
and turn around such a large number of spacecraft in a short period.  
Some of the pilots had run out of fuel, but most of those had been 
towed to Prajna-7 with the remainder of the Gorene strike ships.  The 
battle station had the landing capacity for all those ships in its 
bays, but it didn't yet have the technical staff, or completed 
facilities, required to refuel and turn around that many fighters.  The 
ensuing traffic jam meant there were many returning ships still 
motionless outside the landing bays, their fuel spent and their pilots 
asleep, waiting for a chance to land.

Roman turned as the bridge doors hissed open.  Krugon Dept 
entered, nodding to Roman with a somber expression as he trudged over 
to stand watch beside Blois.  All four defectors were on the bridge.  
Roman wondered if he'd ever see them together again.

Admiral shylo was quite shocked to learn that a massive Alliance 
armada had entered his sector of space, flying straight toward 
Prajna-7.  shylo's first thought was to board his flagship and leave 
the incomplete battle station behind, but his exit route was blocked by 
stacks of Gorene fighters, empty of fuel, waiting to be processed into 
the hangar bays.

His second thought involved revenge.  If Prajna-7 was destroyed, 
shylo wanted to make sure that the traitorous Roman Alexandria would 
not live through the experience, since he had to be the reason why the 
Alliance had found the battle station.

The corridors near the launch bays were crowded with pilots 
standing in lines.  The technicians were cycling the fighters through 
the bays as fast as they could, but it wasn't fast enough.  At the 
point where two long lines converged at the entrance to one of the 
bays, shylo elbowed his way to the front and turned to shout at the 
pilots.

Attention!  You may find Gorene starfighters among the enemy 
fleet!  If your targeting system identifies one of these ships as a 
target, shoot it like a target!  There are four traitors attacking us!  
Former sector commander Roman Alexandria is among them!  They must all 
die!  However, to encourage your best efforts, the pilot who kills 
Roman Alexandria will immediately be retired from military service, 
with full honors, as a wealthy citizen of the empire!"

shylo was pleased by the response.  He had to jump back to clear 
the doorway.

Upon hearing shylo's message, several pilots found a way out of 
the battle station's crowded bays.  Marsh Lawton broke out of line, 
grabbed one of the younger pilots who was climbing into a Scorpion on a 
launch catapult, tossed him aside, and took his place in the cockpit of 
the fighter.

When the traffic control officer found a launch opening among the 
jammed ships outside the battle station, the catapult hurled Lawton's 
fighter out of the bay.

Aboard the Zemun dreadnought, Roman and Blacklost studied the 
confusion of traffic now visible outside Prajna-7.

Using a tactic similar to the ar-1 attack, the dreadnought would 
attempt to knock out the battle station's shields while everyone else 
destroyed the defensive mines, satellites, and fighter cover.

This might be easier than we thought," said Blacklost.

"Don't bet on it," said Roman.  "They may be confused with all the 
refugees from ar-1, but there's plenty of firepower out there."

"If so, why didn't we see any of the outer barrier patrols such as 
those that guarded the ar-1 base?"

"That's a good question, but our main problem will be the battle 
station itself.  The primary gun batteries at the core look 
operational."

"Perhaps you're correct, Commander Alexandria, but you may be 
underestimating the power of this dreadnought."

Roman nodded."I don't mean to insult your fine ship, Commander 
Blacklost.  My purpose is only to warn you about what we're up against.  

The Gorenes have built battle stations such as Prajna-7 for other 
military campaigns, and they were never defeated:

"Point taken, Commander.  We'll proceed with caution."

That's all I ask.  Your ship is the anchor for our entire 
strategy.  Do you know if my fighter is ready for launch?"

"Fueled and waiting whenever you're ready:

It seemed stupid to leave the safety of the dreadnought, but 
Roman's fingers itched to be on the controls of his Scorpion, in 
command of his own destiny.  Aboard the Zemun.

ship, there was little to do now that his plans were under way.

He would not be content to stand there and watch everyone else do 
the work.  Turning to leave, he discovered that Hela and the other 
defectors had disappeared from the bridge.

When Roman arrived in the launch bay wearing his flight suit and 
helmet, he found Hela climbing into a tancred War-lord on a parallel 
catapult track.  She glanced over her shoulder and smiled when she saw 
him.

"I knew you'd be coming; said Hela.

'Are you sure you want to go out there?" Hela snorted.  I can't 
let you go by yourself.  You know what happens when I leave you alone 
for too long: 'I don't suppose I can talk you out of it he said, 
climbing the ladder to the cockpit.

"No, so get in your fighter and shut up:

"Yes, dear."

The darkness brightened around them as the intense Hellfire stream 
lanced out from the Zemun dreadnought, slamming the charged particles 
against the shields of the battle station.  The purple stream of plasma 
glowed with a brilliance that was painful to Roman's eyes, so he 
avoided looking at it.  Besides, there were plenty of other things for 
him to see, such as the four Gorene Liberators racing toward him.

"Lock and load, Hela: Roman saw no point in sticking to the 
archaic communication protocols any more.

"Armed and ready,' said Hela.  Her voice sounded grim, but steady.

Roman felt comforted by one thought--if he had to die, Hela would 
be with him.

"Fox one,said Roman.

"Fox one,said Hela.

Roman's torpedo made a valiant attempt to stay with the Liberator 
he was aiming at, but the Gorene pilot was too clever and managed to 
outmaneuver Roman's shot.  However, he didn't outmaneuver Roman's 
follow-up laser fire, which did an excellent job of punching holes in 
the Liberator's shields.  The pilot rolled and dove when he realized he 
was being hammered by Roman's laser fire, only to discover that it was 
a distraction for Roman's second torpedo.

The Liberator explosion happened so suddenly that Roman almost 
flew into it.

Hela's first torpedo missed her target entirely due to a sudden 
evasive maneuver, but it continued on to hit the second Liberator in 
the line.  It surprised everyone when it struck and disabled the second 
ship.

Roman was disappointed to see that the remaining two Liberators 
had separated.  If he had trained them, it didn't show.  He didn't know 
who they were, and he didn't want to know, but they were using sloppy 
tactics.

One of the Liberators exploded as it swooped back around toward 
Roman and received two torpedoes from underneath.  A Tancred Warlord 
swooped past, waggling its wings at Roman.

"Thanks, Stellerex.  Nice shot.

'It was too easy,said Stellerex."He was asking for it.

'Unfortunately, I agree.

As if she'd been flying the Tancred Warlord for years, Hela 
dispatched the remaining Liberator with little effort.

The battle zone was getting more active now.  Most of the Alliance 
ships were fighting Goterie ships.  If the Gorenes hadn't been tired, 
as Roman knew they must be, they would be killing four Alliance 
fighters for every one Goterie.  As it was, the ratio had come down to 
two Alliance craft lost for every Gorene.  Roman hoped Vonric would be 
able to puncture Prajna-7's shields before the Alliance lost too many 
ships.  The destruction of this Gorene base was the key to winning this 
battle, and this war, if the Alliance could maintain its fighting 
force.

Marsh Lawton's snarling face appeared on Roman's communications 
monitor.  "Roman, you traitor.  Admiral Shylo has a bounty on your 
head, and I'm going to collect it.

Don't listen to Shylo,said Roman.  "If you place your trust in 
him, he'll get you killed.  Join us.

"And turn my back on my people?  Never.  You're a coward, Roman.  
You've disgraced the Gorene Empire." "I did the right thing.  You're 
the one who's blind to the truth.

Lawton sneered at him."I was always a better pilot than you, 
Roman.  Face it.  Now, I'll prove it to you once and for all.  You're 
my ticket to a leisurely life in retirement.

"Don't force me to kill you, Marsh.

Lawton laughed and broke the connection.  Roman shook his head at 
the dark communications monitor.

Lawton's Scorpion came toward Roman at full speed, firing his 
lasers.  Roman recognized Lawton's usual psychological ploy for what it 
was, so he made a minor correction in his course and fired his lasers 
directly across Lawton's path.

Lawton swerved as his forward shields brightened from the touch of 
Roman's lasers.

Roman switched to the Gorene tactical frequency that Lawton would 
be using."You'll have to do better than that, Marsh.  I know you too 
well.  Sure you won't change your mind?"

"You talked Hela into defecting, didn't you?" asked Law ton, swinging his Scorpion around for another pass at Roman.

"It was her choice, Marsh.  She defected before I did.

"Liar!  You planned it that way.

Lawton launched a torpedo.  Roman slammed the stick down and to 
his left as he punched in his afterburner.  He'd let Lawton get a bit 
too close, but there was still a slim hope that he could avoid killing 
him.  Roman knew Hela had rejected Lawton in the past and that he was a 
hothead, but he had also saved Roman's life many times in combat.  If 
nothing else, he respected Lawton's ability; he'd make a great pilot 
for the Alliance.

Roman managed to evade the torpedo with several quick maneuvers, 
but the target alarm cont'mued to scream at him as his shields flared 
with the laser fire Lawton was pumping into his ship.

'I've always wanted to fight you like this; said Lawton, breathing 
hard.  "It's the only way to prove I'm the better pilot." 'That's one 
way to look at it, I suppose said Roman, grit-ting his teeth against 
the G force of the tight turn he was making.

Roman dropped in behind Lawton and pumped four laser shots into 
his rear shields.  One of the shots made it through and blew a small 
chunk off Lawton's rear fuselage.  Lawton responded with a tight turn 
that placed his ship upside-down under Roman's ship, heading the 
opposite direction.

'Don't let it go to your head," said Lawton."I'm still going to 
kill you.

'Just so you know, Hela's in one of the Tancred Warlords nearby.

'Great.  She can watch me kill you.

Roman sighed and launched a torpedo.  Lawton avoided easily, then 
placed his ship in an excellent position to punch holes in the shield 
over Roman's head.  Roman slammed his stick to the left, then right, 
then he killed his speed with a sudden stop, which was the only way he 
managed to avoid more than a minor scorch across the top of the 
fuselage behind the canopy.  Lawton launched another torpedo.  Roman 
hit his afterburner, hoping he could get enough speed from a dead start 
to outrun Lawton's delivery.  Spotting a third Scorpion nearby, Roman 
swerved toward it.

'Calabreze?  Lawton shouted."Heads up?

Roman swooped around Calabreze's Scorpion in a tight arc.  Before 
the young pilot had a chance to react, Lawton's torpedo refocused on 
the new target, punching straight through the center of Calabreze's 
fuselage before it exploded.

Pieces of the ship shot past Roman, who was trying to get as much 
distance as possible from the explosion Roman's ship shook with the 
impact of something heavy hitting his rear shield.  When he looked in 
the rearview, he saw a chunk of Calabreze's cockpit rebounding away, 
but another piece of Roman's fuselage had also been gouged.

out.  And another friend was dead.

"I'll kill you for that, Roman!"

"You were planning to kill me anyway, weren't you?"

Roman knew Lawton was beyond threatening now; his temper had taken 
control.  Roman's shields had taken a major hit from Calabreze's ship, 
so he focused the ship's self-repair system on the task.  This wasn't 
the time for him to be losing shield power.

Another missile from Lawton.  This time, Roman tried to bring it 
back around toward Lawton, who was busy pumping laser fire into Roman's 
shields.  The shields were glowing with the energy, preparing to fail.  
Roman poured power into the shield system, overcharging them beyond 
their rated limits so that they'd hold a bit longer.  He fired his 
torpedo.

Lawton broke away, but Roman followed, diverting some power back 
to his laser batteries.  Roman checked his rearview and saw the torpedo 
gaining ground, so he tried evasive maneuvers to try and break its 
target lock on Roman's ship.  While evading, he also tried to stay 
behind Lawton and fire an occasional laser burst into his shields, but 
this forced him to split his concentration too many ways.  Lawtom's 
torpedo advanced, and Roman finally had to gain more distance by using 
his afterburner.  Lawton was still ousy with Roman's torpedo, so Roman 
held his breath and strained to remain conscious while whipping the 
Scorpion around in the tightest turn he could manage without blacking 
out.  Coming out of it, he Poured laser fire into the torpedo until it 
finally exploded a short distance away.  The nearby concussion caused 
Roman's forward shield to overload and fail, leaving him defenseless 
from that direction.

The power system tried to compensate, causing the damaged rear 
shield to fail also.  Roman directed the power management system to 
concentrate on keeping his remaining shields up while overcharging his 
lasers, because Lawton had turned to charge straight at him.

Lawton's first shot removed a chunk of the nose from Roman's 
Scorpion before he could turn to take the next laser shots on his 
starboard shields.  Roman's torpedo still followed Lawton, who was 
attempting to transfer its target lock to his ship.  Roman hated it 
when people tried to use his own tactics against him.  Lawton had to be 
aware of his missing forward shield, so Roman did the unexpected and 
turned to face Lawton directly, punching in his afterburner.

Lawton started to turn, then hesitated and changed his mind, 
continuing straight toward Roman.  The torpedo following Lawton now saw 
one enlarged target, which it was about to hit.  Roman poured laser 
fire into Lawtom's ship until his forward shield failed and the shots 
started shredding the Scorpion's nose.  Lawton did the same thing, 
shaking Roman's ship with laser impacts all over his fuselage.

Roman killed the power to the rest of the shields, dropping what 
little defense he still had, and overcharged the laser cannon.  Smoke 
curled around inside his cockpit.  Several red lights pulsed danger 
signals at him from the instrument panel.  Then Lawton locked his 
tractor beam on Roman's ship in a death grip.

The extra power in Roman's laser fire caused all of Lawton's 
shields to collapse just as Roman's persistent torpedo finally caught 
up to Lawtom's tail.  Roman closed his eyes against the brilliant flare 
of light: the last thing he saw was the ship coming apart directly in 
front of him.  The pieces of Lawton's ship slammed into Roman's 
Scorpion as he tried to change course, but the afterburner sent him 
straight through Lawton's wreckage.  The booming and pounding noises 
against Roman's fuselage were terrifying, but he couldn't avoid the 
exploding hulk.  He knew it would come down to this, but he also knew 
it was the right thing to do.

Accepting his death, he thought of Hela.  Then he stopped 
breathing, knowing it was pointless to continue.

As Prajna-7's shields failed under the onslaught of the 
dreadnought's Hellfire weapon, half of the Alliance armada moved in to 
hit the battle station on all sides, dodging the blasts from the heavy 
laser batteries.  Plunging toward the open face of the battle station's 
unfinished construction zone, Hela Selrase focused on the exposed 
primary generator at the core.  She felt a sudden chill in the pit of 
her stomach as she realized Roman wasn't there with her.  There were no 
Scorpion fighters in the vicinity.  As she flew in among the metal 
framing of the battle station, she slowed to dodge the struts and other 
pieces of the station that skimmed past close to her ship.

The laser batteries couldn't hit her now that she was inside 
Prajna-7 itself, but the structure itself was dangerous.

This was not a flying environment, and her shields had already 
flashed several times as they touched the metal projections, which 
seemed to reach out for her as if they were claws.  She felt goosebumps 
on her arms, not so much from the danger around her but from thoughts 
of Roman.

Distracted by her thoughts, she cut a beam in half with her 
starboard shield, giving her ship a violent shake.  Close enough to see 
her target, she slowed a bit more, eyed an opening that would get her 
back into open space, and dumped her full load of torpedoes straight 
into the core of Prajna-7.

She turned and punched her afterburner, hoping to get around the 
outer face of the battle Station for some protection before the 
construction zone became a concussive inferno.

She detected the beginning of the flash in her rearview, racing 
outward, collapsing the metal framework it passed, reaching for the 
attacker who had delivered the killing blow.  Speeding up, she had less 
time to dodge obstacles, so the Warlord's wings ripped through supports 
and deck foundations, her shields flashing.  As soon as she nosed into 
open space, she swooped along the face of Prajna-7, allowing the 
completed portion to protect her from the growing blast.  Then she 
angled away, hoping to get clear before fragments of the station got 
their revenge on their murderer..

Hela gave the afterburner button a constant squeeze, desperately 
trying to wring more speed out of the Warlord by force of will.

The rest of the armada retreated at various speeds, but some had 
already been caught in the growing fireball.  Hela watched desperately 
as they disappeared, hoping the same thing wasn't about to happen to 
her.  The surface of the battle station receded behind her, the dull 
metal errupting into a sea of flame.  It was as if she was flying away 
from an exploding star.

Distance brought safety.  Even as other ships vanished within the 
expanding fireball, she had enough speed now to outrun it.A distress 
beeper caught her attention as a blinking
 blue light on the tactical monitor appeared near her flight 
path.  An escape pod.  Whether Alliance member or Gorene, the occupant 
of the pod would soon be engulfed by the expanding remains of Prajna-7.  

Hela altered her course, then saw the Scorpion pod ahead of her with 
its emergency lights blinking.  Slowing just enough to snag the pod, 
she activated her tractor beam and grabbed the small container, hauling 
it in a high-speed tow.  The pod's occupant might be bruised by the 
shock, but they would escape Prajna-7's dying fury.

CHAPTER 18 ASCALON rift---Sector IV--NEW ALLIANCE BASE

Fourteen escape pods--some Alliance, some Gorene; and some 
unidentified--were recovered by Alliance ships returning to the base at 
Vesto-3.The first pod to be opened held a startled Horus Klep.  When 
Hela landed her Warlord, technicians started working on the second pod, 
its hull scorched and dented enough that they wondered if it had been 
part of Prajna-7.  Due to its battered condition, heavy laser cutting 
equipment had to be used to slice through the pod's reinforced hull.  
Curious to see if the occupant of the pod had lived through the 
beating, Hela watched patiently as the technicians forced the'tr way 
into the hapless container.  Concentrating on the activity, she barely 
noticed the dark shape that walked up behind her.  Her breath caught in 
her throat as she spun around.

"Ro--!" She interrupted herself as she recognized the fao miliar face of Quark.  Her heart sank.

"Ro to you, too, madam.  Arr?

Hela sighed and looked down at the ground."I'm sorry.  I thought 
you were someone else.  How did you get here?

"Well, it seems whenever I get settled in someplace, you people 
come along and blow it up.  I barely managed to get off ar-1 before you 
arrived.  Then I told the old admiral that I had information for him, 
so he let me land on Prajna-7.  I just managed to beat the rush.  Arr?

Okay, but I was asking how you got here?

"Well, that's kind of a long story." Hela rolled her eyes as Quark 
took a deep breath.

"When the ar-1 survivors started arriving, the technicians on the 
battle station were too busy to refuel me ship.  I couldn't leave right 
away, so the admiral cornered me and demanded to hear the important 
news I'd brought for him.  I had to tell him the location of the secret 
Alliance base:' Hela gasped."You did what?

Quark chuckled."I told Shylo the Alliance had built a base on 
Ffestiniog, assuming the Gorene fleet wouldn't return to a Queln planet 
it had already conquered.  It's at the opposite end of the Ascalon Rift 
from here.

Hela relaxed."And he believed you?

"Art.  I can be very convincing sometimes.  And the man was 
desperate:

"So how did you get away from the battle station?

"I was there when Shylo heard about the invasion fleet, so I 
sneaked away and managed to get me ship launched.  Me and Mojo 
certainly didn't want to hang around on Prajna-7.

Everyone knows how vulnerable those battle stations are when 
they're under construction.

Hela frowned."You said you didn't have any fuel?

Arr.  Not much.  Once I got started, my fuel ran out and I kept 
drifting.  I knew someone would be along.  One of your Tancred lads, a 
fellow named Stellerex, was good enough to give me a tow on his way 
here.  Arr?

Hela was startled to hear that Stellerex had helped someone other 
than himself, but these were strange days.  She jumped at the sound of 
a loud bang behind her.  She turned and saw that the top of the escape 
pod had been cut off by the techs.

The techs reached into the pod and gently lifted a limp Gorene out 
into the open air.  Hela gasped, then lunged forward to help, as she 
recognized the scorched figure of Roman allexandria.

Hela elbowed the technicians out of the way and dragged Roman away 
from the pod, then started babbling.  "You're okay!  You're okay!  
Aren't you?  Say you're okay!

Roman started coughing.  Hela had her arm around his shoulders, 
holding him in a sitting position.

Say something!  Say anything!  Don't just stare at me and cough!  
' I hope you're not going to nag me like this after we're married,said 
Roman.

Hela let go of Roman's shoulders and his head bounced on the 
ground.  Ow Alliance casualties had been high during the Prajna-7 
battle, but not as high as Roman had feared.  Krugon Dept died in the 
company of a Zemun fighter group.  Many of the losses had come when 
Hela blew up the battle station, since the ferocity of the blast had 
caught many of the Alliance ships by surprise.  However, the mission 
itself, the last one to be flown in the Ascalon Rift campaign, was an 
unqualffed success.

Two days after Roman's return to the Alliance base, the last of 
the stragglers from the battle had returned.  Roman stood with Hela, 
Overlord Klool, and Blois Fulcher on a platform over the entrance to 
the base.  The sun was bright on the sand and the nearby pyramids.  
Roman noted the perspiration on top of Overlord Klool's head, but the 
Gorenes were comfortable in the dry heat.  The Gorenes were dressed in 
their casual white uniforms.  Roman's gold-colored headgear, which 
fanned out in straight lines from the side of his head and his collar, 
always caught the attention of the locals because it reminded them of 
their local star.  Klool was dressed in his usual dark uniform, which 
made him even more uncomfortable in the desert sun.  Some of the locals 
were standing nearby, with a small crowd of aliens, watching the 
informal ceremony as Klool awarded the three Gorenes with Tancred Honor 
Stars.

"It was an honor to serve with you, Overlord Klool; said Roman 
with a slight bow.

Klool smiled."It took much time before I finally trusted you, 
Commander Alexandria, but you proved that your word is true.  You've 
accomplished something extraordinary.

You also demonstrated remarkable leadership and courage."

"And I want to thank you, Overlord; said Hela, fingering the gold 
star at the end of its light blue ribbon.  "I'm just glad I was able to 
help correct some of the mistakes I made in the past with the Gorenes.

Blois thanked Klool for his medal, then looked at him with a 
serious expression."The Gorenes will be back, overlord."

I'm aware of that," Klool nodded.  For now, let's savor our 
hard-fought victory.  At least the Gorenes will think twice before they return.

Roman nodded.

Commander Alexandria; Klool continued,I would like to promote you 
to Overlord in the Tancred forces.  This is the highest honor ever 
bestowed on a non-Tancred.  You're a born leader of warriors who could 
lead us into battle with bravery and honor.

Roman smiled.  With all due respect, I must regretfully turn down 
your generous offer.  Believe me when I say that I do not wish to 
offend you.  I'm proud that you see me as a fit leader, but the war 
took a great deal out of me.  I'd like a chance to contemplate my 
future...  and rest.

'I assume you'll rest here, Commander?" Klool asked.

eyes?

Perhaps you could teach Officer Selrase the intricacies of the 
Tetrax game.

She'll be better than both of us in a matter of days' said Roman, 
smiling at Hela.

Klool looked out at the small crowd."I wish you well, my friends, 
but be careful.  Those who inhabit this world see you as more than 
mortal.  That can be as dangerous as it is exciting.  I will stay in 
touch with you.  Thank you again, Commander."

Roman gave Klool a slight bow.  "Thank you, Overlord Klool."

Klool proudly turned and made his way down the steps without 
looking back.

"You don't want to go home?" Blois asked.

Hela frowned at Blois."Don't give him any ideas.  We already 
talked about it, and I'm forcing him to take a vacation.

Roman shook his head.  "I don't have a real home.  I haven't had a 
home since I became a cadet.  I've constantly moved from place to 
place, giving everything to whatever cause I believed in.  Maybe this 
will be a new home for Hela and I, at least for a while.

"Why?" Blois frowned.  "It can't be the weather.  And you're too 
restless to stay in one place for too long.

Roman smiled and looked out across the desert.  A cooling breeze 
blew past.  I've grown accustomed to the simplicity of this world.  The 
people may seem primitive, but they're sincere, grateful, and 
hardworking.

"I'll say; Hela chuckled, putting her arms around Roman's waist." 
You've had these people working hard since you got here, but they still 
worship you.

"You're exaggerating; said Roman.

"Look at this place; said Blois, sweeping an arm across the 
horizon."Before we arrived, these desert dwellers worshiped the hardy 
desert rat as their god.  Now they're using the tools you gave them to 
build a monument to you!"

"This is their planet, not mine; said Roman, shaking his head.  
"They're simple people who live off the earth, but they like new tools.  

I'm just a friend who wants to help them along.  My first lesson will 
be to teach them that I'm no god.

"Just don't teach them too much," said Hela.  "Gorenes tend to 
overdo the whole teaching thing.

Roman looked away, drifting off into his own 
world."Agriculture--that'll be next.  And art--might as well start 
with the 'A' topics."

Hela rolled her eyes, then looked at Blois."He's lost his mind.  
Help me with him."

"I can't stay.  I have to return to Eysleria and tell our people 
the truth.  The Emperor must know what happened in the Ascalon Rift.  
He must learn about the deceit at the heart of Ferrand's and Shylo's 
actions.  I wish you were both coming with me.

Roman nodded at Blois."I'll be back to help you.  We have to 
reeducate the Gorenes on the dangers of imperialism.  It has to stop.

Hela frowned at Roman."I suppose we could go back for a visit.  
Then she looked at Blois with concern."It'll be dangerous for you to 
return home.

"If there are any problems, I have friends in the intelligence 
community.  I'll create a new identity for myself.

They heard a familiar voice shout at them from ground level."Arr!  
You ready to go, Officer Fulcher, sir?  We can't be waiting around all 
day, Mojo and me.

They walked to the edge of the platform and looked down at Captain 
Quark, who gave them a quick wave."Arr!"

"I didn't realize you knew Quark that well; said Roman.

"As I said, I have friends in high places; said Blois."I've known 
Quark for years.

Roman grinned.  "Who hasn't?" "The ship's leaving!" Quark yelled 
as he stomped away.

"Be on it or stay here, makes no never mind to me, sir!"

"I guess 
I'd better go,' said Blois, shaking their hands.

"Goodbye, Blois,' said Roman.

 Hela patted Blois on the shoulder, lifting the bluestone out of 
her uniform to catch the light."Don't let that crazy pirate sell you 
any jewelry.  He told Roman this was a real bluestone, as if anyone 
could afford to buy such a thing.

Blois smiled and started down the steps."It is a real bluestone.

Good luck to you." Hela was stunned as Roman laughed and waved 
goodbye to Blois, who pointed at the crowd."Your followers are waiting 
for you!" Roman's eyes glazed over as he looked at the crowd.

"Quark told me that one of the neighboring tribes has been 
stealing some of their water.

"Just stay out of it.  The other tribe probably needs water, too.  
And let's hope these people don't get violent when you tell them you're 
not a god,said Hela, slipping her arms around Roman's waist again.

"They need me,' said Roman."That's a good feeling: "So do 
I.There's one thing that bothers me, though?

"What's that?"

"The monument they're building over there.  It started out looking like a giant rat, but now they're giving it your face: 
Roman snorted.  "That's not my face?

Yes, it is.  Look at it." Hela pointed at the proud stone rat 
standing on its hind legs on the sand near the pyramids.  The face was 
being modified by some of the locals with the laser tools Roman had 
given them.  They hadn't made the nose yet, but the rest of the face 
bore a striking resemblance to Roman.  He would never admit to Hela 
that the rat's face looked like his, but it gave him a warm feeling 
inside anyway.

"That's not me,he said.

"You're impossible.

Roman smiled at her, and he knew that smile would last a long 
time.  He was home.

About the Author Bruce Balfour has been designing, writing, producing, and 
directing computer game projects since 1986, including Neuromancer, The 
Dagger of Amon Ra, and Outpost--one of the top-selling computer games 
of 1994.  In addition to his work in the electronic entertainment 
industry, he has two professionally produced stage plays and over 50 
published comic books, including his graphic novel,Jack the Ripper.

Balfour's short stories and arfides have appeared in Twilight Zone
Magazine, Fantasy Book, Reader's Digest, Atlantic, Sierra, Strategy
Plus, Galileo, S.E Times, Westways, and others.

A former Systems Manager of NASA's Space Science Division, Balfour
was responsible for software development and research in artificial
intelligence.  He currently resides in Northern California.