In the final chapter of 'Ride of the Valkyrie,' Ellis and Jack reunite with an old friend, meet a rather odd new one -- and then take the first steps to fulfilling Jack's promise of returning to Earth. Well how about that?

Well! Here we are! Another short story wrapped up as Jack and Ellis return to their homes, plan their next steps... and a new creature joins the party. Clean story, but hey, what can you do ;) At least somebody says the magic words finally. Thanks as always to my editor, the inimitable Spudz, and to the continued support of Readers Like You.

Released under the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA license. Share, modify, and redistribute -- as long as it's attributed and noncommercial, anything goes.

"To boldly go," by Rob Baird

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Back aboard the Aegis Olympic, I turned over a small piece of jewelry in my paw. It appeared to be some kind of clear crystal, inlaid with threads of gold and platinum so fine that I had to squint to make them out at all.

Commodore Farrell had given it to me, telling me to insert it into one of the control panels on the Valiant. He had also given me a new map, stressing again its tremendous importance. Technically, what he said was: "if they find this, it could be the end of everything."

The map had a logic bomb inserted in it, he told me, which would allow it to be used only twice — once to get back to my home galaxy, and once to find theirs again. The 'Milky Way.' Couldn't say it sounded that appealing but, hey, the universe takes all kinds.

We, by which I mean Jack and I and everyone I knew, hailed from some distance away — far enough that it was a matter of extraordinary fortune that we'd stumbled into the terrans' back yard. As long as their map could get me back home, though, I didn't care.

Reversing the figures properly took a few hours, but finally I was able to program the computer to my satisfaction. I settled into my seat, and bade Jack to do the same. With a cheerful grin — she was still energized by the station, I think — she complied.

Again that all-too-familiar chest-tightening, a buzzing in my ears, and then the stars flickered and went out, reappearing in a new configuration a moment later.

Jack glanced around. "Seems safe..."

"What do you mean?"

"Last time we visited the Valiant, it shot at you, right?"

Hopefully, I'd disabled those systems. Hopefully, it was able to recognize the Aegis Olympic as friendly. And even more hopefully, it didn't matter in either case — if I'd done my job right: "Sure. We ain't visiting the Valiant, though."

"Then..."

I decided to confirm this with the ship's AI. "Aegis, are you picking up any space stations around here?"

"Affirmative. One possible contact matches those parameters, bearing three one two, declination six zero. Range is twenty-nine thousand kilometers. Trying to identify it..."

Under thirty thousand? I was getting better at that kinda thing. "Don't bother. Open communications — transmit in the clear on 157.25 megacycles."

"Channel open."

"Shikoku, Shikoku, Shikoku, this is the starship Aegis Olympic, over." When nobody answered the phone, I tried again. "Shikoku, Shikoku, Shikoku, this is Aegis Olympic. This channel is supposed to be monitored for inbound traffic, guys..."

Despite my chiding, it was another five minutes before anybody bothered to respond. Jeri Hoyle sounded tired — I had the impression that Niccola Caronia only had one person to handle all his docking operations, and I'd caught her asleep. "Aegis Olympic, this is Shikoku docking ops. I have you on radar. Switch IFF to mode G and enter the pattern via 3-2 alpha to 3-2 bravo. Over."

"Jerr, it's Ellis. How are you guys doing over there?"

That woke her up. "Aegis Olympic, strike my last, you are not cleared to approach. Ellis, you'd better have money. That was the deal."

"It's a little more complicated than all that. I mean —"

"Do you have it or not?"

Did I? Well. "Sort of. Look, Jeri, I know what Nichi and I agreed to. Do you think I'd come back if I didn't have anything to show for it? C'mon, give me a little respect here."

"Earn it," she spat back.

"Can I get an audience with the big guy, at least? I'm even willing to do it in person. That way if he doesn't like it, you can... whatever it is you do to people he doesn't like. I'm even giving you a couple hours to get the rack ready..."

"Very funny."

"Try, at least? I didn't come all this way just to listen to you yell at me. I want to make this right, Jeri, I really do. But I can't do anything if you won't help me..."

A long pause dominated the kilometers of empty space between us. "I can't guarantee anything."

"I know."

She clicked the microphone on just early enough for me to hear the tail end of her sigh. "Alright, enter 3-2 alpha to 3-2 bravo and I'll bring you into the sequence. Did you switch your IFF on?"

"Isn't working; sorry."

"Get into trouble?"

"Yeah, well. You know me."

Low gravity gets to you, over time; Jeri was a little taller than I remembered her, and a bit thinner. But it had been some time since we'd seen each other in person — actually, now that I thought of it, back before she'd gotten the job working for Caronia. Her glare was no less fierce, and she turned it on Jack and I the moment we made our way down the gangplank to the floor of the hangar. "New ship, I see. You steal it?"

"It's... on loan."

The vixen rolled her eyes. "Right. Fortunately for you, Mr. Caronia seems to be in a pretty good mood — better than I would be under the circumstances. And at least it smells like you two have showered in the last week or two."

"We're not completely uncivilized," Jack sniffed.

"You're new to Ellis, I see." Jeri tapped her access code for the hatch, and it swung open to show us Shikoku's interior — rather less well-lit than the terrans made things, and rather more spartan. I was also beginning to get used to the luxury of artificial gravity: .6 gee just seemed so terribly amateurish. But then, Shikoku was pretty small, as stations went.

Niccola Caronia eschewed vistas and fancy decorations. His office, located in the bowels of the station where gravity disappeared entirely, was almost entirely unfurnished — a metal and glass desk in the classic Lusitanian neo-robles style, with a few computer screens embedded into the fluid sculpture. He was floating in midair, facing the door, and his good eye arced like a cutting laser between Jack, Jeri, and I.

"Hey, Nicchi," I offered. "Can we —"

"You two," he pointed at Jack and Jeri. "Out. Ellis and I need some time in... private." I swallowed. The door swung shut with a solid, heavy thunk that made me wonder if the room was soundproofed, and if that was about to come in handy for my old associate. "Now. How are you doing, Ellis?"

He said it with a dangerous, calm friendliness that was even more terrifying than a growl might've been. I grasped a handhold on the wall to steady myself, facing the immobile wolf. "I have good news and strange news," I said. "But the two are linked. What's the spot on platinum?"

This seemed to have been a good way to open the discussion. His eye glanced over towards one of the screens — they were invisible from my angle, but I presumed that he could see something on them. "Four hundred and twenty per kilo. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"The ship's in good shape. At least some of the power is still working. I was able to pull the manifest — according to that, she's carrying a ton and a half of platinum." Caronia's ears flicked at the number, but he remained silent. "How does half of that sound?"

"What's the catch?"

"I need one of your contacts in the Cartographer's Guild to help me with a star map. Now, we're talking about distances on the order of megaparsecs, so I need the absolute best. And they need to be... reliable. I don't want any rumors leaking out..."

"About?"

Moment of truth dawning, I set my jaw. "I found Earth."

His lip curled. "How stupid do you think I am?"

"Not just stories, Nichi. I landed on it. The ship docked in your hangar is from there. And I have a map, but I need somebody with access to the Guild's resources to make sense of it. It's not in our galaxy. It's not even close, if what they told me is correct."

"'They'? Earthlings?"

"Close enough. Earth is abandoned — has been for a few thousand years. Now, look — it doesn't really matter whether you believe me or not. I just need your help with the Guild. I don't even know anybody in it, but the rumor is that you have a permanent seat in their councilhouse, so I got to thinking..."

"And you're offering more than seven hundred kilograms of platinum for it?"

"More than enough to cover our debt, and a bit besides. Right?"

His teeth were still showing. "I don't have a lot of reason to trust you, Ellis. You're a terrible salvager, and not a particularly good captain. Jeri said you've lost your ship?"

"I traded up."

"For one from Earth."

"Yes."

His right paw bunched into a fist, and his voice betrayed a little of his irritation. "As lies go, at least you're brazen. I could just ask to see your ship, couldn't I?"

"Yes."

It stood alone in the hangar, and the contrast between the Aegis Olympic and her surroundings was starker than I'd really noticed at first. Her curved, fluid lines and smooth hull were at sharp odds with the angular bare metal of Shikoku Station, with its exposed wiring and aging hydraulics.

Nichi had been a spacer once — a mercenary, if the stories were true; that was how he'd lost the eye. He knew enough of ships, at least, and this one held his interest. "I've never seen anything like this," he said; it was the softest I'd ever heard the man speak. "The lines are all wrong. What's the powerplant?"

"Fusion, from what I can tell. The jumpdrive is faster than anything I've seen before, though."

The wolf looked up into the interior, and took a careful step inside. "Is gravity amplified here?"

"It's artificial. Terrans seem to have that pretty well mastered. All their ships, and their space stations — they seemed surprised we didn't have it. We're a little behind, apparently. The ship I was telling you about — the one Cat Bosch signed off on? It wasn't one of ours. That was my first clue."

I could tell that the wolf was still skeptical, but his gaze was fixed on the interior of the Aegis Olympic, and his paw caressed the metal thoughtfully. "You found a terran derelict?" He was no longer rejecting the idea out of hand.

"With a ton and a half of platinum in the hold. At least, like I said, according to the manifest."

Despite spending so much time in the low gravity of his station's interior, he seemed to be in pretty good shape. His steps, as he made his way forward to the cockpit, were sure and confident. "You could read it?"

"Yeah. It's a long story."

Caronia turned; his muzzle, in profile, was sharp and predatory. "Start talking." I explained as best, and as quickly, as I could. There wasn't much evidence, I had to admit, but sitting in the cockpit of a profoundly alien ship does a lot to lend credibility to a spacer's ordinary bullshitting. When I was finished — Deep Space Torus, humans, intergalactic war and all — he took a seat on the armrest of the captain's chair, and stared at me. "And you found one of their ships. In our galaxy."

"Yes."

"Abandoned. For thousands of years. With fifteen hundred kilos of platinum in the cargo bay."

"Yes."

"And you'll give me half."

"Yes."

Nichi grunted. "I want to see it."

For this, I disconnected the navigation module that I'd been given on the Torus, and borrowed a spare from Caronia's hangar — I'd already gotten one use out of the humans' maps, and needed the other one to return to their galaxy. In return, Niccola disappeared for a few minutes to duplicate the data on the module I'd been given — which included the logic bomb, but I hoped the Guild would be able to get past that.

Jack seemed surprised, but not terribly bothered, when I told her that Nichi would be joining us. I guess it's nice to be so trusting. The ship's AI made short work of integrating the new map, and after an hour of hemming and hawing it had a route calculated for us. Jeri cleared us to depart, with a sharp command that I was not to delay in returning our guest — not that I had any intention of keeping him longer than was absolutely necessary.

"She doesn't like you much, does she?" Jack asked. The jaguar was becoming increasingly comfortable traveling; she had an easy, relaxed slouch in her chair.

"Maybe."

"Why not?"

"I'm sure she has her reasons," I allowed, and tried to give the impression that I was very busy with my computer.

"He skipped out on their wedding," Nichi volunteered. Well, so there was that out in the open.

Jack twisted in her chair, suddenly interested. "Their what?"

"Didn't he tell you that?" I glanced up to where I could see the wolf's reflection in the cockpit glass. He had a thin smile — I rather think he was enjoying himself. "I guess it's been a year or two."

"Seven," I muttered. "It's been seven."

"They were supposed to meet at the courthouse in Sankt Josef, as I remember it. I think Ellis had somewhere else to be, though. Didn't you, Ellis?"

I gritted my teeth. "I was in prison at the time. On your account."

"Oh, don't give me that shit," the wolf snorted. "You could've posted. Those backwater assholes were just looking for a little bribe. Cost of doing business out in that sector. It was a convenient excuse, that's all."

The problem was that, for all I wasn't thrilled about admitting it, Caronia was probably right. Jeri had been the one to push for the relationship, and I... well. Perhaps I have been a bit of a coward, in my past.

"Ellis isn't very good about committing to things," Nichi continued. "Or being reliable."

Jack came to my defense. "He's done okay so far, you know. He even spoke up for you after you yelled at him last time you two talked."

"Really."

I ain't much for introspection, to be honest, and it's worse when it's others doing the work for you. So I was relieved by Aegis announcing that we were ready to jump, and strapped in a bit more hastily than was really necessary. We came in about forty thousand kilometers off — not so bad in the grand scheme of things — and this gave us plenty of time to image the derelict.

As the amorphous blob on the screen became sharper and more defined with each new scan, Caronia leaned forward. "Well, I'll be damned..." Its shape was already clear: smooth, clean, and predatory.

"What did I tell you? It's not from around here."

"Sleek. Looks a bit like the spaceplanes the Ruthenian defense forces use, doesn't it?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. Hell of a lot bigger, though. When I surveyed it last time, I made it at eighteen hundred meters and about four and a half million tons. It's big as all fuckin' hell."

Either because I'd been successful in shutting down the defense systems, or because it decided we were on its side, Valiant didn't shoot at us. I had half a mind to make for the airlock I'd used the last time, but Aegis had a better idea, and pointed us towards an open door towards the dreadnought's stern.

Nuzzled up alongside, the sheer scale of the ship was overwhelming. We fit easily inside the hangar bay — could've fit a few more in beside us without feeling cramped. On the other hand, we were still stuck in the Aegis Olympic, and there was the slight matter of a profound lack of atmosphere. Aegis set to work on that, and a few minutes later gave us permission to disembark.

It had the appearance of a building that was still under construction: bare cabling and panels that had either been hastily removed or never installed in the first place. Deck plating was stacked up against the corridor walls, and we picked our way over gangplanks that ran over flickering conduits. Farrell had said something about a test flight — but I had thought they might've bothered to finish building her first.

The hatchway to the bridge was open and this room, at least, was complete — at least, so far as I could tell. It was located in the middle of the ship, and took the form of a large sphere with smooth, black walls, separated into two hemispheres by a transparent floor. There were a few seats around the edge, and one in the middle — all of them nestled close to computer consoles, shiny and unused.

"Wow..." Jack breathed. "How do you suppose this even works?"

"Guess we're about to find out." I stepped up to the center console, and pulled the crystal Farrell had given me out. It fit perfectly into a slot on the control panel, and as soon as I'd clicked it into place the screen lit up, dense with English characters that swept past too quickly for me to read.

"State your identity." This came in the same flat, commanding tone as the AI on the Aegis Olympic had used. Not a surprise, I guess.

"Ellis. Ellis Bjørnestad."

"Place your right hand on the indicated portion of the console." A section of the panel lit up, and I carefully set my paw on it. An electric buzz swept up my arm, and the console switched off. Then there was a flash of light, and a softly glowing figure appeared on the far side of it.

"The hell?" Caronia's paw had gone to his belt, reaching for the holster there.

The apparition was fuzzy, but recognizably humanoid. "Your identity matches the command sequence in the data chip provided. Please wait, I'm still trying to process your genetic sequence. It does not seem... human."

"That's right. I'm not."

"This explains the gold protocol headers." The AI's speech was noticeably more fluid than the one on the Aegis Olympic. "Ah, yes. There we go. Please wait while I initialize the command authorization sequences. Initialization complete." The hologram flickered, and resolved into something more sharply defined.

It was, in fact, a koolie like myself — only disconcertingly translucent. It wore a sharp, martial blue uniform, and carried it on a frame that I would've described as rather fetching. You know, had she been real. The effect was striking. "Er..."

The holographic canine tilted its head. "Is this acceptable?"

It had adopted a new voice, too. "Ah. It's certainly... different. My other ship's AI looked a bit less realistic. And it had a man's voice."

"An obsolete model," the creature said curtly. "Extensive research has determined that users respond most positively to a female persona. We're seen as calmly authoritative, and I was designed to be soothing and level-headed. My name is Val — would you mind introducing me to your crew?"

The jaguar stepped forward first. "I'm Jack. Ellis says I'm his first mate."

"The one pointing a gun at you is Niccola Caronia," I added, since Nichi didn't seem inclined to do the job on his own. "But I don't expect the gun matters much."

"In the sense that I'm not real, correct," the AI agreed. "But it's still not a very friendly gesture. Well, if it makes him feel better — either way, welcome aboard. Captain Bjørnestad, would you like a status report?"

"Please."

The AI stood, and waved its — her, I suppose — arm in a broad arc. The black wall became dappled with stars, and I perceived, floating in the middle, an image of the ship itself. A perfect image of us, in three-dimensional space — so vivid that for a moment I felt the vertigo of hanging alone out in the darkness. "My hull integrity is within acceptable tolerances. Reactor power is down by approximately forty percent; however, all sensors appear to be operating at peak efficiency. The faster than light drive is also operational. I attribute the power issues to a combination of degradation in the transmission lines and reaction chamber, as well as issues with the fuel. It seems I have been asleep for nearly two thousand, nine hundred and thirty-nine years."

"It seems."

Jack, I saw, was listening with rapt attention; Niccola had holstered his gun, but his paw was still resting on it apprehensively. The AI ignored them both. "At least I am well rested. The stars don't look right. I suppose I've left our galaxy and wound up in yours?"

I nodded, and slipped the navigation module from my vest pocket. "I have a map that's supposed to bridge the two."

Val looked at me, which I guess was an affectation — since she had no physical form. "Well, set it on the computer panel. I can't read your mind, captain." When I placed the module on the console, as ordered, the computer lit up, and the AI tapped her muzzle thoughtfully. "Yes, this data seem accurate. I notice that whoever gave you this encoded a self-destruction mechanism."

"They're a bit paranoid, yes."

"From what I know, they have reason to be. Their home is a bit more dangerous. After all, they didn't run away with their tail between their legs to some other galaxy."

I cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you were soothing?"

"I'm a beta product. The 'soothing' modules" — she accented the word with finger quotes — "were supposed to be incorporated into the main branch, but it seems like somebody's a few thousand years behind on their code checkins. Don't worry about it, captain. Where do you want to go today?"

"Deep Space Torus 3. Is it marked on that map?"

"Of course. I have established the parameters of the course correction required for a synchronized jump." When nobody said anything, she continued. "Your surly companion is closest to the navigation console, if he would be so kind."

Nichi looked at the computer. "The controls seem to be straightforward enough. What do you say, captain?" The sarcasm in his growl didn't make the term seem especially respectful.

I wasn't in the mood to be petty, though. "Let's get moving." Rolling his eyes, the wolf sat down, and a moment later the stars around us began to pivot. Markers appeared next to the holographic representation of the Valiant — our course, our speed, a few other color-coded things I didn't understand. Pretty clever design, really.

"What's this station?" Jack was leaning against the chair, her clawed fingers twirling over the computer console.

"Tactical controls." Val vanished from my side, and appeared next to the jaguar. "Targeting systems, weapons, and the automatic defense grid. So be careful what you push. I was designed with... very sharp teeth."

"Oh?" Jack settled into the chair, and the console before her lit up in response. "How sharp?"

"Captain, do you mind if I momentarily disrupt your situational display?"

I was curious, myself. "No. Go ahead."

The stars faded out, and the image of the holographic Valiant expanded — then fragmented, breaking out into its component parts. "My primary armament consists of these six particle weapons, each rated in the one hundred gigajoule range. The linear accelerators are mounted axially and have no practical traverse. Consequently I also have eight x-ray lasers, providing very nearly one hundred percent coverage. My defensive grid, driven by the Sidekick system, is a mix of point-defense railguns and short-range missiles. They are very accurate."

"Yeah," I said, as drily as I could. "I'd noticed."

"Were you that little ship that paid a visit a few days ago? Oh. My apologies."

I shook my head. "No hard feelings. We made it, anyway."

"So I get to shoot these, right?" Jack was cycling through screens on her console. "What's GW mean?"

Val waved her paw once more, and one of the turrets on the hologram grew larger, splitting again to reveal a diagram of its internals. "Gigawatt. The lasers generate a four-gigawatt pulse, which should be sufficient to disable smaller vessels. To acquire a target, select its identification from the track list on the —"

"Let's not be too hasty," I suggested. "We'll have plenty of time to do that, uh. Later."

Val returned the projection to normal. "As you wish. With the engines at full power it will take me approximately six hours to reach synchronization velocity. You will find quarters prepared in compartment 24-460-1 — lighted arrows will guide you. I would offer food, but it is slightly past its expiration date."

"Don't worry about it. They gave us some on the station — it's back on our ship, on the hangar deck."

"Ah, then you may have to consume it, anyway. My apologies," the AI said — again, and again without a terrific degree of sincerity.

"Apologies?" Jack sounded a little confused.

"That you will have to eat. I don't envy you, having to produce energy by reducing organic materials to their component molecules through primitive chemical processes..." Val shook her head, and favored the jaguar with a pitying look. "Please let me know if I can do anything to assist."

I rolled my eyes. "I think we'll manage."

Six hours was enough time to reduce some organic materials, and also to grab a brief nap. I was starting to get used to sleeping in positive gravity, which I'd previously considered a luxury confined to stations. On balance I didn't envy earthlings — I'd take zero-g over extinction — but it was still nice to have.

It also gave Nichi and I time to comb through the cargo deck, and to discover the bars of platinum stacked neatly in clear, vacuum-sealed boxes. "Not bad." His voice was clipped, but for the first time, the wolf's mood seemed to have improved.

A quiet chime, and Val's glowing presence next to us, announced that the ship had been brought up to speed. That was to say, our relative velocity would now be precisely matched to the terran station — a change, overall, of nearly two hundred kilometers per second. Back on the bridge, she called up a hologram showing a thorough checklist: "The faster than light drive is powered, final diagnostics are complete, and I am ready to jump."

"Alright. Start the clock, then. Strap in, Jack." Large ships, with their larger displacement, tended to be rather less comfortable when their superluminal drives kicked in. I dropped into the captain's chair, and pulled the harness tight.

Val frowned, luminous eyes narrowing. "I assure you that's not necessary. Technology has advanced substantially since you left the savannas. I have a hyperprecise, non-biodisruptive FTL drive." After a moment, she added, sniffily: "I also don't believe in bodily humours or Lamarckian evolution."

"More of that soothing personality, I see."

"Hmph." The AI crossed her arms. "Navigation computer locked. Jumping in five. Four. Three. Two. One." I had remained harnessed — so had Jack and, for that matter, Nichi Caronia — but Val was right. There was no sensation of movement at all. The starmap in the room went dark; then little points of light began to reappear, one by one. "Jump complete. Starting orientation crosschecks."

"Scan for the station while you're at it."

"Two thousand kilometers to port, captain," Val answered immediately; a marker appeared floating in the room, showing its position relative to our ship. "As I said, I have an exceptionally precise jump computer. Please note that I am also detecting a number of other ships, and periodic high-energy readings in the EHF range."

"Define 'high-energy'?"

"Characteristic of a microwave laser operating with a thirty-gigawatt pulse. I believe we may be witnessing an armed encounter." My heart skipped a beat. "We are also being hailed. It's the station."

Paws gripping the armrests, I leaned forward warily. "Put it through."

Directly before me, the image shifted, and then unblurred in the visage of Commodore Farrell, looking somewhat the worse for wear. "Ellis! The Valiant is operational?"

"Yes — what's going on?"

He glanced at something off to the side, and winced at what I gathered was bad news. "They've found us... we think they were probably tracking your ship. I'm readying the Torus for a FTL jump now, but..." Again he winced, and shook his head. The holographic display around us was becoming thick with new signals — most of them an angry, flashing red.

"But, sir?"

"We're trying to evacuate our mining outposts — there's fifty thousand people on those asteroids. Ellis — every minute you can buy us..."

Niccola and Jack were looking at me expectantly. Now I could see what Farrell was talking about — a handful of green icons, straggling towards the station. I tried to think of what it must be like in those ships: a few centimeters of fragile separating you from oblivion, with a vicious foe bearing down from out there in the pitiless void.

And I heard somebody with a pretty good point sayin' Ellis isn't very good at committing to things.

Well, ain't no point in arguing that, 'cause it's true. But as I watched, one of those handful of icons disappeared suddenly. Something tightened in my stomach: things can change, right? "We'll do what we can, sir." Farrell nodded, and his face disappeared. "Val?"

She turned to look at me, and her language was formulaically obsequious. "It looks like you're trying to ready a capital ship for imminent battle. What would you like help doing?"

"Are you taking the piss?"

"A little. As an AI, I don't have permission to change my own condition, captain. That has to come from someone in the command hierarchy. The magic phrase you're looking for is 'red alert' — it's short enough to give you time to strike a dramatic pose."

I was fine sitting down. "Red alert!"

The bridge darkened, and the icons hovering around us changed. More information began to appear: range markers, bearings, identification reports. Labels surrounded the Valiant herself — the status of her vital systems, I saw at a quick glance. Val was all business. "Deflector shields are now in combat configuration. Weapons systems online. Tactical station and sensor grid operational. Reactor throttle is at one hundred and fifty percent. Captain, I am now at condition one. Would you like a status report?"

"Please."

"Particle beams one, three, and five are operational. Particle beams two, four, and six are offline. The port capacitor banks have failed their integrity checks. Attempting to energize them could result in catastrophic damage."

"Catastrophic?"

"I estimate an eighty-four percent chance of total hull loss."

"Options?"

Val froze momentarily, as the computers that drove her worked their magic. "You could overcharge the starboard capacitors and use them to drive both sets of accelerators. However, the crossover cables aren't rated for that much power. You'd get two, maybe three salvos before they burnt out."

I filed that away in the 'backup plan' category. "Right. Anything else?"

"The ventral targeting scanners are online, but there's a problem in the ranging collimator that I believe would require a physical repair. The automatic defense system for that section will operate at a degraded capacity of approximately forty percent. Accuracy beyond fifty kilometers will be extremely limited."

"And your reactor is underpowered," I added.

She frowned. "Well, you try waking up after a three thousand year nap — see how much of you still works."

"Hey, Ellis," Jack raised her voice warily. "I think we're being approached..."

Right. Time to start getting serious. "Nichi, you'll take the helm?"

The one-eyed wolf growled, but stayed where he was, at the navigation console. "Don't seem to have much choice. Don't get me killed, Ellis — I want that platinum."

Cracking my knuckles, I looked around, taking in the three-dimensional map as quickly as I could. "Nichi, forty degrees starboard and twenty down. Get us in between the asteroids and the enemy fleet. Jack, what the hell are we up against?"

"Two... big things? And a lot of small ones. Like... I mean, thirty or forty 'a lot.' The big ones are hanging back a little."

"Support." Val pointed at their icons, and they lit up in turn. "They have long-range plasma artillery — soon as the way's clear they'll turn it on the station. The two big ships are adversary battlecruisers — twelve million tons of pure ugly. They also serve as tenders for the little corvettes that are doing most of the dirty work. Corvettes are mostly armed with missiles — but those are very fast, and very hard to hit. Do I have permission to optimize my defense profile against them?"

"Yes," Jack and I said in unison. I continued: "Jack, what's the closest threat to those mining ships?"

"Four corvettes are moving to intercept them. I see missile launches, but so far they seem inaccurate."

"Jamming, but they'll burn through it," the AI explained. "I give it two minutes."

So far, everyone was ignoring us, and I figured it was time to change that a bit. "Nichi, pursuit course. Ahead flank speed. Jack, target those sons of bitches and fire when we get in range."

Jack nodded. Her claws were out, drawing patterns on her console. "Eight hundred kilometers and closing. I have a firing solution on tracks alpha 6-0, 6-1, 6-2 and 6-3. The starboard laser turrets are all powered and aligned. At five hundred kilometers, if you give me ten degrees port I can hit all of them in the first salvo."

For a moment I glanced to Caronia, who shrugged. Then I looked back to the feline. "When the hell did you learn to do stuff like that?"

"I got bored and took a correspondence course." She grinned at me, and stuck out her tongue. "When you and Nichi were playing pirate in the cargo bay, I came up here to learn. Val helped. Will you give me that turn or not? Six hundred kilometers now."

"Sure." Five-fifty. Forty. Thirty. "Helm, port ten degrees. Jack, shoot the bastards."

As the ship moved, the hologram rotated with it, but I kept the icons for the corvettes in my sight. "Firing," Jack said. From where I sat, it was very anticlimactic. "Good hits on all four targets. Three of them appear to be disabled — the other one, I don't see anymore."

"That got their attention," Val warned us. "There are six corvettes on an intercept course off the port beam. We will not be able to outrun them. They'll be within firing range of their missiles in forty-five seconds."

"Jack?"

"I'm trying. They're scattering the targeting sensors somehow."

"It'll dissipate the lasers, too. Ninety percent reduction in effectiveness, at least. Captain, they're firing. More than seventy tracks. I will not able to destroy all of them. Brace for impact." The flatness of the AI's voice made the warning seem even more dire.

The Valiant shuddered heavily with the force of the explosions. "Port shields at eighty percent."

"They're firing again. Captain, I recommend evasive maneuvers."

"Nichi!"

Before he could answer — probably, knowing him, with a curse — the ship bucked again. "Port shields are down to thirty percent. Ellis, we can't take another barrage like that."

"Nichi, hard to port and give me full power to the engines. Val, target those ships with your defense batteries. If they're beating the lasers, maybe you can hit 'em with a snapshot."

"At this rate of closure," she countered, "it will be very difficult to target them effectively."

"Very difficult for them to evade effectively as well." I tightened my hold on the armrest — the corvettes were less than a hundred kilometers away, closing fast in a tight combat formation. "Do it!"

Val shut up, which I gathered was less because she was biting her tongue and more because she needed everything to concentrate on her shooting. "Missiles away. One good hit — two — the others are breaking off."

One problem dealt with. "That still leaves the rest of their goddamned flotilla."

"Captain, one of the mining ships has docked. The other two are still five and nine minutes out, respectively. They'd have to return to get the rest of the miners, but... we may be out of time."

"Explain."

"Weapons signatures from one of those big things, Ellis," Jack said. "They're charging their main batteries, I think."

"As soon as Farrell detects the launch, he's going to have to jump the Torus or risk losing everything. It takes two hundred and ten seconds to fully power their plasma artillery."

"Val, that's not even enough time to get one more ship back aboard."

"Correct." She drew a line on the hologram between the cruisers and the station — a line that was now conspicuously free of any of the corvettes. "And they're clearing the firing zone now."

"Then that's where we're going. Nichi, lay in a course — put the closest enemy battlecruiser right in our fucking sights."

"Are you fucking crazy? You heard the ship, Ellis. The station might as well jump now; get out while they can."

But I had the image in my head of a race who had been on the run — getting out while they still could — for longer than I'd conceived of civilization existing. Men and women who had lost everything, but still kept going. Who had, for no good reason, put their faith in me. "No. Fuck that. They're our people, Nichi. They need us."

"We aren't their salvation, Ellis. Don't try to be a hero. It's not like you. We —"

I growled, and shot him a blazing look. "I didn't come five million light years to leave 'em for the vultures. Set the goddamned course."

"Two minutes," Val said.

I was still staring at the wolf, my teeth bared. Finally he looked away. "Course laid in."

We were coming at the ship from the side, not in the immediate line of fire. It ensured our safety — but it also meant that the corvettes that had fled for safety were now regrouping, and right on our tail. "Flank speed, Nichi. Val, I need those engines burning as fast as they can."

"We have more than twenty pursuers." Jack reported. "They'll be in firing range in less than a minute. Lasers can't really get to them back there, Ellis."

"Then switch all power to the aft deflectors and focus on what's ahead of us. Get a solution for the particle beams."

But I didn't yet have a plan fully formed. Take out one of the big cruisers before it could fire. Somehow. An impact rocked us. "Aft shields at eighty-eight percent." Another impact. "Eighty. Sixty."

"Stabilize your rear deflectors." Nichi still had the Valiant at full throttle — we would only have one shot at the massive battlecruiser in front of us, and even then I wasn't sure we'd be able to maneuver away in time.

"It's no good. Twenty percent. Shields are buckling, Ellis."

"Forty-five seconds to firing sequence," Val said flatly. "Are you going to ram them?"

I shut my eyes — then it hit me. I brought up my computer, tapping as quickly as I could. The numbers looked right.

Val leaned over my shoulder. "Really." The AI's voice was incredulous, for a computer. "Why, Captain Bjørnestad! I like your moxie."

"Save it. Bring the port particle cannons online and open the crossovers. Put as much power into the starboard capacitors as they'll take — we only get one shot, Val. Jack, target that cruiser ahead of us and be prepared to fire everything you have on my mark."

"Captain, I should inform you that with my reactor down on power, I don't have energy for what you're planning."

"What if you turned off life support outside of the bridge and shut down artificial gravity?"

She paused. "It would be close enough. Hold on, everyone."

All of us with physical forms lurched violently at the shift in acceleration, and I grabbed the computer to steady myself against what must've been two or three gees pushing me back into my chair. "Val, kill the hologram and give us a forward view of that damned thing."

It was the same kind of ship we'd seen briefly around Earth. Huge, dark; blotting out the stars. It gleamed with dull blue lights, outlining a ship in the shape of a gigantic horseshoe crab — with boxy slab sides that made it seem rough-hewn and brutal.

"Fifteen seconds to firing sequence." And then: "Ten."

"We're in firing range now," Jack lifted her own voice.

"Do it," I ordered.

Our weapons were invisible, of course, and at first I wasn't certain that anything had happened. Then the huge battlecruiser seemed to ripple, and split apart at the seams — a brilliant, boiling light that poured from great gashes opening all over. We were hurtling into a massive fireball, a supernova that swelled in our vision, and I wasn't even aware of the movement of my paw that triggered the jumpdrive.

The hyperprecise, nonbiodisruptive jumpdrive. We skipped back into existence two hundred kilometers on the far side of the blast, letting our reinforced aft shields take the brunt of it. Our shields, and two dozen pursuing corvettes that seemed to have seriously underestimated my... moxie.

"Captain..." Val said. Her voice seemed oddly subdued. With the jumpdrive off, I noticed, gravity was once again pulling us towards the floor rather than the rear of the ship.

"Yes?"

"What's left of them — they're — I'm — I'm detecting multiple jump signatures. They're... retreating."

"Nichi, turn us about. Let's burn off some of this speed we picked up." Laws of motion, and all that. "Val, hail the Torus."

Farrell's face showed a curious mix of awe and surprise. "By god, Ellis, you've done it. We'll have enough time to evacuate our people now."

"Good. Couldn't leave 'em behind. What now, sir?"

"Can I..." He paused, as though he wasn't even certain he could ask — like a kid meeting his role model for the first time. "Can I come aboard?"

By the time we'd brought ourselves stably next to the station his shuttle was ready. We met him in the hangar bay, and took him on the short walk up to the bridge. "It's fantastic," he sighed. "It's everything I'd imagined. God, this ship — you saved us, Ellis — Jack — whoever you are," he said to Caronia. "We'll still need to move, but... but we're bloodied their nose a bit, and... this is the first victory we've had in generations. Centuries, maybe."

"Just doing my job, sir. And this here's Niccola Caronia, one of our most esteemed... businessmen."

They shook hands, and Farrell smiled widely. "We'll invite you aboard for... well, for dinner, at least. There's a lot of people that'll want to talk to you — and we need to get this ship refitted, too. There's probably ten thousand people wanting to sign up — hell, I need to figure out a captain. I haven't ever had to pick a captain for a capital ship before." His enthusiasm was palpable.

"There may," said Val's voice — the AI was not visible — "be some complications."

"What? Who's that?"

She appeared before us, still glowing and still looking much as she always had. "I'm the Valiant's AI. My low-level protocols have been overwritten at the level that interfaces my software with the ship's hardware — something you did when you authorized this moreau to take command. You took some shortcuts."

"We were pressed for time..."

"Well, I can't rewrite the command bootstrapping sequence. I think somebody wiped the whole authentication structure and replaced it with a gold protocol rule keyed to a particular DNA profile."

Farrell looked between us two dogs. "What do you mean?"

"In effect, I've been... bonded. I can't recognize anyone other than Captain Bjørnestad as the legitimate commander. If you make changes to the bootstrap now, the checksum will be wrong and the rest of my code will reject it. You're going to need to recompile my entire AI, Commodore Farrell, and rebuild the integration heuristics that plug me into my hardware."

"But that could take... months..."

"When I was first started, it took four. Maybe your computers have advanced since then."

The commodore pursed his lips. "Maybe we could find another way."

"Yes," Val agreed. "Or you could leave things as they are. He did save your station."

That didn't faze the human as much as one might've expected. "Ellis. We'd be asking a lot of you, but... until we can get this figured..."

"No problem, sir."

And like that, his mood was back — jubilant, excited. "Good. Good! I'm sure this thing needs some repairs, at least. It's been mothballed for three millennia. I wonder..."

"Sir?"

"We lost our connection with Thalmos IV fifteen years ago. They have a planetary shield, but they've been under a blockade for decades. Their shipyards could probably dock this, if that blockade could be lifted — or snuck through. They're still part of our society. We didn't leave 'em on purpose. You could... re-establish contact. Could be the start of a new beginning for us... And we have something for them, of course..."

"Medicine?" Jack asked. "Food?"

"More important," Farrell said, his voice a little softer. "Letters. Photographs. People wanting to know what happened to their friends, their parents, their children... Ellis, what do you think?"

"We'll do it," I told him. And he went off to find his shuttle again.

In truth I didn't know why, in that moment, I'd felt so certain that what I was doing was the right thing. Maybe it was the sense that there was something else out there — in the universe, or in me, I don't know. Ain't my job. I looked to Niccola and Jack.

"Nichi?"

"I got a station to run, Ellis. If you can make this work, well... me and my esteemed business... maybe we can come to an agreement."

"I'll make sure you get that platinum," I nodded. "Before you leave. Take the Aegis Olympic back — I'll ask Farrell to help you get loaded. Find you a map, too."

"Good." But the word had the tone of someone with a secret, childlike longing for an adventure he suspected that others might be having.

"Jack?"

She grinned, blue eyes twinkling. "Where else would I go?"

Twelve hours later, that grin was back — we were on the bridge, looking at a universe full of possibilities before us, orbiting each brilliant point of light. And I did what I should've done a long time ago. I wrapped an arm around the jaguar, pulling her close, and then gave her a kiss that lingered for a moment, as clear and bright and promising as any of those damned stars. "I love you."

Her tail curled around my leg, and she gave me a wink. "I know."

Unable to keep from smiling, I lifted my head back up. "Val, lay in a course for Thalmos IV and begin preparation for the jump."

"Aye, captain," the AI said, and flashed into existence next to the navigation console. "Course laid in. Ten minutes to synchronization."

"You know anything about Thalmos?" I asked.

"Not a clue. It was colonized after my time. It'll be an adventure, captain."

"Sure. Jack, take your station."

The jaguar slipped from my embrace and, with a skip to her step, made her way to the tactical computer, taking a seat and touching her paw to the screen to authenticate herself. For my part, I settled back into my chair, watching the clock tick down, and the idle flicking of Jack's tail. Ain't all bad, the decisions I've made, right?

Nah.

"We're synchronized, and the jump calculations are complete. Ready for superluminal on your orders, captain."

"Start the clock."

"Countdown commencing. Jump in fifteen seconds. Captain — aren't you forgetting something? Or do you intend to continue in this... charming tradition of oversharing?"

I glanced to Val, eyebrow lifted. What? Oh. Right. "Computer."

A pleasant chirp answered.

"End captain's log."