A week ago, Captain Derek Wildstar reflected as he climbed into his Super Starfighter again, we were wondering if we'd ever get out from that storm. Now our twenty-six day wait in that thing is over at last. If that probe is clear, we can get out.

"So what are we waiting for?" he said out loud to Nova, who had just climbed into the aft seat in the fighter.

"For me to get my helmet on?" she quipped in a semi-sardonic voice with a determined don't-mess-with-me look in her eyes. "You're not getting me out of here, of course. You need an RSO and I'm it."

"Who said I was getting you out? I asked you to come with me, silly."

"Oh, right. That's good," said Nova with an embarrased laugh. "Sorry. I'm just as tense about this as you are...and now and then, I still remember when you and Doctor Sane would tell me, 'Nova you can't do this. Nova, you can't do that. Blah Blah Blah blah blah!'"

"We were trying to protect you..."

"And keep me from doing everything I have to do? I'm glad you're realizing that we're a team, Derek. I'm glad you realized that the day I proposed to you. You know, I'm anxious to get the Argo out of here, too. I can't help feeling that someone will find us if we stick around here too long, so let's get this show on the road, hon. Oh...here's your helmet," she said, tossing it to him.

Derek nodded. He put his helmet on and said, "Did you talk to Aliscea today?" he asked as they strapped their harnesses. He switched on the fighter's engine, and it came up with an ear-splitting whine that was muffled in the cockpit. He signaled with his hand to a flight maintenance crewperson below, and she unplugged the auxiliary power unit umbilicals from the underbelly of the fighter plane.

"I did. She said that we need to be on our guard. It seemed like she was preoccupied with something, Derek. Like she was trying to find something..."

"That doesn't sound."

"No, it doesn't," said Nova in a very serious voice. "Radar up. Scanners up. Targeting computer switch on."

"Flaps and rudder up, both atmospheric surfaces and thrusters" said Derek as he moved his stick and pushed on the rudder pedals. "Engine coming up to normal thrust." They waited as the moving elevator lowered the plane to the flight deck. Then, Derek began to taxi out as radio traffic came up over their headsets in their helmets. "Homer, we're heading for the catapult now."

"Roger that. Venture and Sandor are telling you guys not to be heroes."

"Tell him we thank them we for their concern. We know what we're doing," said Nova.

"Yes, you two are risking both of your stupid necks!" screeched Doctor Sane unexpectedly.

"Doc, what are you doing out of Sickbay?" said Wildstar irritably.

"I came up here to have a drink. And to watch you two better!" Sane clunked over to the empty Analysis seat between Rosstowski and Rosstowski in his geta and sat down, upending his usual bottle of sake.

"Well, after we launch, you get back down there with your patients. And that's an order!" said Wildstar as the plane mated with the catapult lift. Derek and Nova began their passage upwards and outwards into space...or, rather, what they could see of space in the weird orange storm that sat threatening in the distance....and which was still close enough to buffet the plane with winds and occasional orange tendrils of gas. A moment later, the Super Starfighter was on its catapult.

"Zero-One, you are cleared for takeoff," said the female voice of a flight ops tech in both of their headsets.

"Okay. Brace for launch," said Derek with a determined look on his face.

Nova gave Derek a smile and a thumbs-up. A moment later, the fighter roared off into space, heading towards the strange orange maelstrom that awaited.

The plane shook a bit as the winds blew in every now and then. "The magnetic force has dropped off...instruments normal," said Derek.

"The windspeed is moderate; it'll probably pick up as we get closer to the channel, Derek."

"Speaking of the devil, there it is, right in front of us." Wildstar smiled as a dark open patch of space drew closer. "One we get in there, the winds should decrease."

"I'll send back telemetry while you fly," said Nova. "Venture, this is Nova. Derek's got his throttle on full military...we're two hundred kilometers away from the entrance to the Wildstar Channel. He's about to begin his probe of the Channel in a moment."

Nova and Derek both blushed a little when they heard someone...it sounded like Holly, saying "Nova, tell him not to probe too hard!" as some people in the background laughed.

Oh, great, thought Nova. I just created one heck of a double entendre for them to chew on. The laughter on the headphones continued as the young couple looked at each other with expressions somewhere between amusement and embarrassment until they heard Venture yelling, "This is a serious mission, cut the crap, guys! Nova, Derek, are you in the channel yet?"

"I sure am," said Derek. "Looks nice and dark in here...looks like smooth flying. Over."

The winds had let up. "Windspeed minimal. We're in the eye of the storm, Derek. How long should this take?"

"Count on about twelve minutes' worth of flying time to get to the end, do a little recon on the other side, and then fourteen more minutes to get back to the ship. Venture, we're switching to internal communications only...we'll report back when we get to the end in eleven minutes."

"Roger," said Venture. "You guys want some privacy, huh?"

"Not you, now, Mark," laughed Derek. "What we discuss out here is none of your business. Captain and Lieutenant Wildstar out."

"They're up to something," said Rosstowski.

"Hey, Rosstowski," said Homer. "How hard is it to make an astrofighter into a passion pit?"

"Not them," said Orion. "They're both too intelligent, professional and moral for that. Now, as for those Hartcliffes..."

"Yeah," said Rosstowski. "If that Bryan guy ever gets out of the brig, that is..."

"And if that Angie ever talks to him again, that is..." said Holly.

"Yeah...said Raiden, who was manning the Cosmo-Radar for the moment in Nova's absence. "Now, those two nitwits...they're like a real soap opera. The Captain and Nova are cute...real kawaii. Those guys, on the other hand...they remind me of something on Spanish TV."

"Wonder what Bryan's doing now that he has his wings clipped?" quipped Rosstowski.

Sandor shrugged. "Not sure. I know one thing. Life isn't easy down below in that brig..."

The Argo's brig was in a secure spot, down near the bow, below the wave motion gun firing room, between the two bow torpedo firing rooms. Only one passage led to the brig, and it was designed so that it dead-ended into a bulkhead.

The brig included six tiny cells, each secured by heavy doors, a minuscule wardroom, a tiny shower stall, and a desk behind a pair of airlock-like doors (for security purposes) where a pair of armed Space Marine guards sat. A Living Group crewman, usually enlisted, would bring food to the prisoners twice a day. They were on somewhat reduced rations as part of their regular diet, unless they were assigned to bread and water, that is.

The Rikashan prisoner and Bryan Hartcliffe were currently the brig's only occupants. Bryan lay in his cell on a bare bunk. He wore only his underwear and uniform pants; all other clothing, including belt and boots, were taken from prisoners upon their incarceration. Serious suicide risks were stripped of everything but their underwear. Luckily, Hartcliffe had made no suicide gestures.

Bryan had the two books he was allowed...one was a copy of his faith's religious Scriptures (a King James Bible in his case) and another single book of his choice.

Henson had been halfway serious; she had taken a tech manual into the brig with her. In Bryan's case, it was a cheap, lurid paperback novel he loved. It was a book that Angie despised; now he finally had the time to read it.

In the other cell, Bryan heard the Rikashan prisoner muttering prayers in a singsong tone in his own alien language. "Ahh...v'lad. V'lasha. T'unkalishciaed en to vierenkadish...en to virennasta en to re garenshal evo..."

"SHUT UP!" yelled Hartcliffe as he banged on the bulkhead. "Quit prayin' to your friggin' Rikashan gods!"

The prisoner ignored him and continued with his song. "Aaaaa...eletarento...elentarenshe...elenvorak edo...v'ranshaen...v'ranshan R'kesh. R'kesh e' torla e'mido en'sholo mashta ekominehe mi-ne mi-ne mi-ne mi-neooooo!"

"SHUT UP!" roared Hartcliffe.

"Would you have me stop?" said the alien prisoner's voice in Terran through the bulkhead.

"YES! That mumbo-jumbo is drivin' me up the wall, man!"

"I am praying for peace between our peoples. I am praying for you, too, Terran friend, even though I know you are one of those who beat me. I have used my time in here as a prisoner of war to purge hatred from my soul. I suggest you do the same. I forgive you. I must pray out loud for the Gods to hear me, though."

"Well, do it a bit more quietly, mate!"

"I shall try." The murmuring then continued, but at a lower volume. Bryan could then get back to his diseased reading material.

In their plane, in the meantime, the Wildstars were still continuing their probe of the Wildstar Channel.

"Not bad," said Nova. "Windspeed's still the same, spotting an object to port..."

"Evading," said Derek as the plane altered course a little to avoid a small asteroid caught in the eye of the storm. "Easy. Just like a Sunday drive."

"I should've brought a picnic lunch, Derek. My handmade sushi, ham sandwiches or teriyaki beef, ant spray, me in a sundress, you in shorts..."

"Hey, you're giving me ideas!" chuckled Derek.

"A blanket...windspeed letting up...we're at the epicenter of the storm, now..."

"Halfway there! This is far as I got the last time we were here."

"Why'd you only go halfway?"

"The fuel capacity wasn't as great as what we have in this plane now. You note the wing tanks are bigger."

"Oh. Sorry...should've thought about it."

"Yeah," said Derek. "Hey, Nova...you want that picnic in a meadow or on the beach?"

"Having some trouble deciding that....both sound good," said Nova as she looked at the instruments. "Radar's clear. Nice and quiet."

They fell quiet for a few minutes as the plane cruised on. Finally, with bated breath, they saw the end of the channel coming up. They held hands for a minute, and then Derek focused on his flying.

"Well, guys," said Derek as he resumed communications with the ship, "The channel goes all the way out, and it's clear. Nothing out here that we can see on either radar or visually. Looks like we'll be able to get out, take bearings, and then warp onwards again."

"Great!" said Venture. "We'll be waiting for you guys on the bridge. Get back soon!"

"We will," said Nova as Derek began a wide, looping turn to port, back towards the channel. "Mission accomplished."

On the first bridge, the remaining crew cheered. Venture said, "Okay...Orion...bring those engines up! Sandor, we have the canopies down?"

"We do," said Sandor. "The last ones were taken down this morning."

"Engines coming up on line now," said Orion. "Switch on auxiliary engine!"

Down below, the sound of the auxiliaries coming up both encouraged and cheered the crew.

At last, thought Venture. At last, we're on our way again.

The starboard side doors suddenly flew open, and Aliscea came running onto the bridge in a long-sleeved black dress with heart-shaped pendant. "Commander Venture!" she cried. Paul! I have just detected a troubling mental impression!"

"What is it?" said Rosstowski.

"An intelligence...or intelligences...is searching for us. Urgently! They have become aware of our presence here!"

"How close are they?" said Venture.

"I'm not sure," said Aliscea as she wrung her hands. "It's hard to tell. I think the storm in the distance is disrupting my perceptions. All I know is that someone is looking for us! And they mean to find us?"

"Who?" asked Rosstowski.

"I have felt his mental vibrations before, Paul. He is a Rikashan. Baron Anton Cha'rif!"

"Baron Cha'rif?" said Venture. "Homer, get Wildstar on the horn right now, or...I swear..."

"I'll do it, Venture!" snapped Homer.

"Wildstar!" said Venture's voice urgently in Derek and Nova's headsets as they completed their turn. "Wildstar!"

"Yeah! What is it, Mark?""

"Aliscea's just spotted something on her mental radar, or whatever you call it. She says Cha'rif of Rikasha is around...somewhere. Did you guys spot anything that would look like an enemy fleet?"

"I scanned with all of the resolution I have on this scope," said Nova. "I didn't spot anything." She looked uneasily at Derek.

"Mark, try to get Aliscea to tell us where they are!"

"I'll try. She said she's having a hard time picking up anything due to the Octopus Group..."

"Well, tell her to try harder!"

"Got it. She's sitting at Analysis now..."

"Zaed," said Baron Anton Cha'rif's voice over the speakers of a Rikashan scout ship sitting twenty megameters away from the far side of the Octopus Star Group, well beyond the range of the Super Starfighter's radar. "What have you spotted? I have picked up mental impressions myself. Aliscea is aroused."

"One Terran plane. Heading back towards the channel for the Star Storm. They think they can get out. Aliscea has alerted them to our presence, Lord. They have no idea where we are, though."

"Good. This will still work...I think," said Cha'rif. "Tell Baron V'dal, another brother R'jkharraz like myself, to stand by with his one hundred-ship task force. I want him to attack the Argo with his mind as soon as they emerge. Then, we will disable her, take Aliscea in a boarding operation, and then blow that ship to smithereens so they can't appraise Earth of our plans now that the ji'had has finally been declared by Lord Zaden as of four days ago. We are at war now, our peoples. And it is a holy war. I want to leave corpses in my wake today, Captain Zaed. My patience with the Star Force has just run out. I have a fatwa upon them that I mean to carry out. I just hope they give me a good fight so I feel better about taking all of their lives."

"When are you bringing up your fleet, Baron?"

"At the end. I want their wave motion gun disabled before we take Aliscea. Then, I will destroy them myself with my DI'ATS cannon. Today sees the final day of existence for the rebuilt Yamato, which, as the Terrans put it, I shall now send to Davy Jones' Locker. Forever!"

On that note, both men laughed.

Aboard the Argo, Derek and Nova landed safely in the port side upper fighter bay. Other Black Tiger pilots and flight crew surrounded their plane, cheering and applauding like crazy.

"Nice job!" said Conroy. "I hear you guys made it all the way, this time."

"We did. We...know it's clear out there, now."

"Except for Cha'rif," said Nova.

Laurel Hartmann ran up to her. "Did you see anything? Do you know where he is?"

"No," said Nova. "But you know the radar in this plane only has a four-megameter range. A lot could be out there beyond four thousand space kilometers that I couldn't pick up or see at the farthest part of our orbit out there."

"How far did you get?" asked Conroy.

"Two megameters past the edge of the black cloud into open space," said Derek as Venture ran up. "Good thing you're here, Mark," said Derek. "What we're doing is scanning even before we leave the channel. We're going into that channel on full battle stations. We're getting ready to warp out towards Beemira as soon as we get out of this; our charts to that point are pretty damn good, and we can do a twenty-one thousand light-year jump easily now with the new engine. Much as it goes against my grain, we have no time for a battle now, particularly against one of those psionics. Let that scheming Rikashan bastard chew on that one," said Derek with a smile. "We know this space...he doesn't. If we get a head start, we can get to Iscandar in four or five days before he knows what hit him. Let him just try to find us over twenty-one thousand lightyears," chuckled Derek as he walked towards the lift followed by Venture, Nova, and Sandor. "I'll betcha his powers don't reach that far."

"How do we know that?" said Sandor thoughtfully.

"My God, I hope his powers don't go that far," said Nova.

"You and me both," said Derek. "You and me both..."

"Is this place Heaven?" whispered Yvona Josiah as she walked down a huge black corridor that was trimmed with many pillars.

"The Lord's Throne Room looks a bit different than you imagine it would be," said Gralnacz with a smile. "That is because the Lord is filled with wrath."

He and Yvona were escorted by two female guards in burgundy tunics. They wore shiny silver helmets with blue plumes, and the cyborg women also wore masks to hide their true faces. The eyes on the masks glowed with venomous green light, as did the corridor.

Yvona, who was still in her sackcloth dress, stolen EDF Captain's peacoat, and rope sandals, shivered as they stood before two brass doors that seemed to be about three stories high. The huge doors were covered with skulls, grotesque and beautiful faces, and strange signs of every kind, as well as what Yvona guessed was strange writing. She carried an alien bag with a few of her oddments in it, including, for some strange reason, Nova's stolen pink romper and boots. She didn't know why she was clinging to these items that she could no longer fit into in her fat, aged form. Some compulsion in the back of her mind caused her to bring them.

The female guards nodded, opening the doors after pausing for a moment. Yvona wondered how they took the cold with what appeared to be bare legs and boots that looked like gladiator sandals on their bare feet. The cold that Yvona had felt for the past day ever since she and Gralnacz had arrived here on this vast metal world that Gralnacz told her was his Lord's Battle Fortress was really getting to her.

"How do you abide this cold, woman?" asked Yvona.

"We are cyborgs," said the young guardsman in a soft voice. "I am named Keesha. Our bodies are different than yours. We have embraced the glory of being mechanical lifeforms. Only our brains are still organic. Thanks to the creative power of our Lord Ekogaru, we shall live forever. He must favor you highly. He commands that you have an audience with Him. Alone."

"Remember to bow before Him when you see the Presence," said Gralnacz. "He does not take affronts lightly. No, not even from those He favors."

All of the Technomugar present went down onto their knees when the huge doors opened by themselves with a creaking sound and a vast rumble. Something like a light, cold fog filtered forth from the room.

And, music.

It sounded as if some Being was playing an eerie amplified harpsichord in this haunted place.

Yvona looked in as the doors opened. It was a huge, round room, filled with crumbling pillars and strange works of stone that surrounded some circular chamber. In its center, facing something that looked to Yvona like massive stained-glass windows was a huge black throne on a high dais. But, it was empty.

Off to one side of the room stood something that looked like a huge pipe organ with brazen pipes. It was illuminated by massive banks of what appeared to be flickering candles.

A Being sat there playing some baroque piece that sounded like a J. S. Bach fugue. He was playing like a madman.

From what she could see of the Form in the strange darkness that surrounded him, he seemed to be wearing a vast black cloak or greatcoat. His eyes glowed red as he banged tormented, haunted notes out of his instrument in an eerie minor key.

My God, the Lord God is a virtuoso, thought Yvona. He is also very tall. If He's that tall when He's sitting down, He must be nine feet tall!

"Lord," said Yvona Josiah in a small, cracked voice. "It has been a long and terrible journey. It is an honor to stand in Thy Presence."

Gralnacz gasped. He got up and struck Yvona in the back of the head. "Fool! You do not speak to our Lord until He speaks to you first! What do you wish to do, bring down His Wrath on all of us?"

The Presence played a few more notes and then stopped. The cold grew worse as the terrible Form stood, raising Himself to his full nine-foot height.

"Gralnacz," said a deep, cold voice that sent shivers of both fear...and recognition through Yvona's mind. It was the Voice of her Lord that she had heard all along in her mind, and, for the first time, her heart nearly stopped upon hearing that terrible yet awesome Voice as a physical voice for the first time. "I don't like it when you strike my Children...my Chosen Ones. You shall apologize to Yvona Josiah, formerly of the Terran clan of Bourdeaux, the former wife of Hiram Josiah, and the aunt of my enemy Nova Wildstar, and you shall do it at once. Remain kneeling, Gralnacz! Yvona, you may rise as he apologizes to you."

Yvona stood, trying to hide her trembling, as Gralnacz prostrated himself before her, lowering his forehead to the floor. "Yvona Josiah, favored of the Lord Ekogaru, please accept my humble apologies for striking Thee."

"Your apology has been accepted," snapped Yvona in what she hoped was the proper tone for her to use.

"Good, Yvona," said Ekogaru. "You pass your first test. I can use you. Now, come forth and meet with me. Gralnacz, rise! You and the guardswomen shall leave us."

"Yes, My Lord," said Gralnacz. He glared at Yvona for a moment before he left with the women.

Yvona stepped over the threshold into the vast chamber and stood before the organ.

The Terrible Being made the darkness dispel somewhat, and she found that she was looking at a personage who seemed to have grown a little shorter. He was about six feet ten inches in height, and he wore an impressive white uniform and huge sword under his black cloak lined with gold satin. His boots were highly polished, and his face looked human, although with a slight greenish tint to the skin.

His eyes glowed slightly in his somewhat wrinkled but still-strong face. His hair was long, wild, and parted at the middle. It was mostly black, with grey at the temples. He wore an iron circlet of some kind around his brow. He had a heavy mustache, and below the mustache, he was grinning.

"I am Ekogaru the Great. Lord of the New Creation, the soon-to-be supplanter of the Almighty Himself," he said with a darkly attractive smile. "I have discovered the secret of Eternal Life and wish to share it with others."

"And that secret is?"

"Assumption of a new form. I am the first, oldest, and, as I have evolved constantly, the greatest of the Technomugar Race. I wish to recreate all intelligent life after My Own Image. I am a machine with a physical brain, a brain, regrettably, still of flesh. I am involved now in experiments to replace that flesh with machinery. I have partly succeeded, but the machine needed to house a living human intelligence is vast, and huge, taking up two towers of my battle fortress. I would like you to share this gift with me and lead the people of Earth, who have a great potential, into eternal life as my Prophetess. I shall grant you a measure of my own power to do so. I grant this privilege to few; Gralnacz is one of those beings who shares in some of my power. He has done great things for me. But, I sense, you can do greater. Indeed, you have. From afar, you tasted of some of my power, of some of the eternal youth I can confer, and you exercised that power upon others. That was a great thing you did with just one ship; wiping out that Terran city of Chicago and killing millions of infidels. I can give you a body like mine to share in that privilege. A body that can do this..."

And, with a shock, Yvona almost passed out, because Derek Wildstar stood before her in his peacoat and white slacks.

"No, it's still me," said "Wildstar" in Derek's voice. "I am still Ekogaru. Or, perhaps you would prefer to do this?'

"Wildstar" twirled, morphing before Yvona's startled eyes into the image of her niece in a pink dress and boots. "This is a style of 20th century France," said "Nova" in a precise, eerie facsimile of her niece's voice. "I call it "Image of the Rose" Modeled for you by Nova Wildstar," giggled Ekogaru as he flounced around the chamber. "Nova" then giggled, but the laugh then turned utterly maniacal, deepening as the form changed again and Ekogaru again assumed his terrible form as the Dark Lord, nine feet worth of terror and shadow with eyes that burned orange like angry flame. He raised his hand, and the organ/harpsichord began to play by itself, playing a particularly twisted and fast version of the fugue Yvona had heard before.

"Johann Sebastian Bach's Passicaglia and Fugue in C Minor," said Ekogaru with a deep, sepulchral voice as Yvona trembled. "One of the few things about your pitiable race's culture I have taken a liking to. It is a piece written by this master that suits my personality. Too bad the man is dead. He would have made a great Court Composer for myself. Perhaps someday, when I have full mastery over Time, I can travel back into time and induce him to join with us. Would you join with us and share this power?"

"Yes...I would," said Yvona.

"Good. We shall begin. "

The Argo's red-alert klaxons were going off all over the ship as she finally turned and began to navigate the Wildstar Channel out of the Octopus Star Storm. After many days, the space battleship's forced confinement had finally come to an end.

Captain Wildstar ran to the bridge without his peacoat and he stayed like that as he sat down at his post. "Do you have it, Venture?"

"So far, so good," said Mark. "The solar wind isn't so bad, and there's hardly any turbulence to speak of. I think we'll have an easier flight than usual with the new engine."

"Good," said Derek. Before him, Nova was spelling Raiden as she took back her post.

"I'm picking areas of magnetic flux in the stars themselves," said Sandor. "Wildstar, we'd better keep our thinking caps on during this passage. The storm could come up again in a minute."

"He's right," said Aliscea from where she sat at the Analysis post with one sandaled foot up on an edge of the console, showing quite a bit of her leg in an almost innocent fashion. Paul smiled and sent to her, Aliscea, you don't sit that way on the bridge. We can all see your bare thigh in that dress!

I'm comfortable, Paul, she thought back. I need to be comfortable to concentrate. Why are you worrying about me showing my leg? It's a...leg.

Aliscea smiled and stuck out her tongue at him.

Okay, thought Paul. Be that way!

Aliscea grinned at Paul and put up her other leg.

"Miss Aliscea," said Venture. "Would you please put your legs down?"

"Why?" said the psionic in all innocence as she shut her eyes and tried to focus on Cha'rif.

Because you're acting immature, dear, thought Nova to herself from her post while fixing her chair's headrest. I don't show my legs to Derek while we're in danger!

"It's...a safety issue, Miss," Venture said. "You could be thrown from your chair!"

"Oh, all right," said Aliscea. She smiled, looking back at Paul and then Nova for a minute, but she took a bit of time tying one of her sandals and humming to herself before putting her legs down hard when the ship shook beneath them. Immature? thought the Pellian princess. Hah! I'll show you!

"What is it?" said Dash as he looked at Venture straining at the helm.

"Turbulence," said Venture. "We're hitting it now!"

"Cell of turbulence mapped at Star Gamma...the solar wind's picking up!" cried Nova from her post.

"Captain," said Holly. "I...I know we're at battle stations, but may I be excused for a minute?"

"Why, Parsons?" asked Wildstar.

Holly walked up to Wildstar's post and whispered something in his ear. Wildstar nodded, and said, "All right. We're not actually in combat yet, so you're excused." As Parsons ran off, Wildstar called down to bridge Number two. "Mister Raiden, get back up here. Take over for Miss Parsons for about five minutes."

"Roger." The huge man appeared a moment later.

"We're halfway through," said Venture. "Speed, twenty-three space knots."

"Holly, help me map that cell," said Nova. She looked up from her screen and saw Raiden there. "Where's Parsons?"

"Dunno," said Raiden. "Watch RTZ-234, ma'am. Don't look good."

"Got it," said Nova. "Mark, turbulence mapped at RTZ-234. Hard a'starboard!"

"Hard a'starboard," repeated Venture.

The ship moved, and then it shook like crazy.

"What the...?" said Venture while he clung to the helm.

"We're almost out!" cried Nova. "But I'm picking up a reaction on radar just beyond the edge of the storm. I'm trying to stabilize it!"

The Argo moved a little further. The edge of the storm loomed up like a tunnel mouth. The ship emerged from the channel...and passed through the edge of the black cloud into open space, and then, into....chaos.

"Oh, NO!" cried Nova. "Reaction confirmed. There's...one hundred and ten ships waiting before us! They're blocking the mouth of the tunnel...they..."

"Range!" demanded Wildstar.

"Sixteen megameters!" said Nova. "They're closing fast!"

"Dash, lock main guns on that fleet!" snapped Derek. "Homer, get their commander and find out what they want. Nova, confirm their identity!"

"Rikashan!" she cried a minute later. "Fifteen battleships, ten carriers, twenty heavy cruisers, forty destroyers, twenty corvettes! They're..."

Then, Venture couldn't do anything, and neither could Dash, because the worst headaches they had ever felt in their lives exploded behind their foreheads.

"All hands..." gasped Wildstar. "get on your safety harnesses...fight those headaches....It must be another psi-attack..."

"It is," said Aliscea confidently as she stood up and began to gleam slightly. "I'm...I'm working on blocking it...but I can't stop the physical attack..."

She clung to the console as a combination of livid orange, green, and yellow energy bolts whizzed in from the enemy fleet. The black lead battleship executed a turn, and was firing at a fast, terrifying rate that the Star Force hadn't seen since the day that Zordar had attacked them with his dreadnought. The bridge crew's headaches cleared...just in time for them to see a withering enemy attack.

"Trying to lock on main guns," said Dash through sweat while he and Rosstowski worked the ship's turrets. "Hard because they're moving so fast..."

"All hands brace for impact!" yelled Wildstar over the klaxons.

A moment later, the Argo shook like a house in a storm as she was hit by at least twenty energy surges at once. Explosion after explosion resounded throughout the ship as, for once, the great defender of Earth was caught right before her guns could speak back to the enemy.

"This is auxiliary engine control!" said a voice over Sandor's headset. "We've taken a hit!"

"The galley has taken a hit!"

"Living block is hit!"

"Counterattack missile control hit!" yelled a crewman down below right before another hit ripped the compartment open. "Yaaarrrgggh!" he screamed as an explosion took their lives.

"Upper starboard radar hit!" cried another voice.

"Derek!" cried Nova from her post while holding her harness shut; she had gotten to it but hadn't locked it yet. "My resolution has dropped by twenty-five percent! Trying to compensate! We're getting blind spots!"

"Raiden!" yelled Wildstar. "Pick up that blind spot with the battle radar!"

"Got it!"

"Main gun turret number one locked on!" yelled Rosstowski.

"Seek permission to fire, Captain!" yelled Dash.

"Fire at will!" yelled Wildstar. A moment later, the Argo's guns went off, hitting a Rikashan battleship.

"Second wave incoming!" yelled Raiden from the battle radar. "It's..."

"Medical crew Alpha, get to the living block!" yelled Sane over the noise over Rosstowski's shoulder...just as chaos struck again.

The Argo was hit, and then, the ship took a hit to port, in the bridge tower, just two decks below the first bridge.

As the ship was shaken by another hit, Raiden's console short-circuited under him, and the huge man was flung from his seat.

Venture was knocked from his seat and landed on top of Dash.

Nova was thrown from her seat. While she struggled to her feet, another hit came, and she screamed and struck her head against the front of her own radar console. Her head sagged against the console as she lay there unconscious with smoke beginning to fill the bridge. Homer got up, slapping himself, since his console was burning and so was his shirt. So was Rosstowski's.

Doctor Sane was knocked out of his geta and thrown back on top of Homer.

But the worst of all was what happened to Orion. He jumped up, trying to shield himself as his main status screen exploded. He was partly successful, but a splinter of glass caught him right in the stomach. The old man gasped and fell bleeding to his knees.

"Orion!" yelled Venture as he ran over to assist. "Hold your stomach!"

Derek, in the meantime, was up out of his seat, ministering to Nova. He fanned away smoke as he yelled her name.

With shaking hands, he felt her neck. There's still a pulse, thank God, he thought. "Nova..." he crooned. "Nova!"

"Anybody get the license number of that truck?" she said in a slurred voice as her glassy eyes popped open. "I...Derek! Where are we?"

"In battle. And for God's sake...get those fires out! Orion! Give us a hand!" said Wildstar as he coughed. "Orion!"

In the meantime, Doctor Sane had gotten over, ignoring the glass that cut his bare feet as he ran over. "Derek...he'll never respond to any orders again, I'm afraid."

"What?"

"Captain, Orion's dead."

As Holly ground her teeth and rubbed the back of her head, another hit resounded through the structure of the space battleship, and she emerged out the hatch into a scene that was not pleasant.

An acrid smell of smoke hung over the bridge as Holly noticed that Rosstowski was up from his post, spraying his burning console with a fire extinguisher, with Homer's and Aliscea's aid.

"Captain!," yelled Sandor over the noise. "That third hit resulted in damage to the bow radar!"

"What are you doing with Orion?" asked Sandor. "We need engineering cleared. Yamazaki will be up here in a minute."

"We're moving him now," said Nova while she and Dr. Sane worked together at moving his limp corpse out of the way. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she bit her lip to keep from sobbing. It was already bleeding because of how she had bit herself when she had fallen to the deck. You were always one of my best friends, she thought. You were always there. I liked your family, too, including your youngest son Timothy and your granddaughter Cathleen. What will they think when they hear you're...you're...dead?

Nova helped Sane move him to a small corner off behind Homer's post. Derek was there, not quite believing what happened as he looked at the old man's still face.

For a moment, both she and the Captain fell into each other's arms and wept. Finally, through his tears, Derek said, "Nova...we've still got a battle to fight. We'll..."

"Cry for him later. I understand," she said in a broken voice. She let go of her husband and fiercely wiped her nose on her sleeves. "We've got to put these fires out, Derek!"

"You bet," he said as IQ-9 came through the doors with an armful of fire extinguishers.

"I'm okay," grunted Raiden as he ran over with a soot-covered face. "You okay, Parsons?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." Then, she screamed as she saw Sandor coming over minus an arm. "OhmyGod!" she cried. "You have no right arm and you're still working?"

"Bionic," he said grimly. "I'm a cyborg. It just snapped off. I'll live," he said. "Once I fought a battle with no arms or legs, Parsons."

"How...how did that happen to...?"

"Long story," he said as he patted Parsons on the arm. "Aliscea! Are you all right?"

"Still blocking them," she said, ignoring a cut on her leg as she continued to gleam slightly. "I'll live," she said as Rosstowski helped her up.

"Sit there at Analysis," he said. "And use that harness."

She nodded, locking herself in place as more enemy fire roared in. The ship trembled again, but, a moment later, she responded with randomly-fired pulse lasers. The Argo was on the ropes, but she was far, far from finished yet, despite the grievous wounds that both ship and crew had suffered.

The ship was hit again, and Holly fell screaming to the deck. "Parsons!" cried Sane as he ran over. A silence passed as Venture's heart pounded. Finally, Sane said. "She's OK. Just had the wind knocked out of her."

"Main radar's out," said Nova after putting some fires out. "I'll take Parsons' post for a minute. Oh! I'm scanning. There's an asteroid field off to port!"

"That's it!" said Venture. "Wildstar...we can get some breathing space in there."

"Great! Go for it until we're ready to respond!" said Wildstar from his station as Holly ran for her post, which she noticed was being manned by Nova. A glance out the bridge windows made Holly's heart sink as she realized that they were in an asteroid field. Holly finally reached her post as Nova called out, "I've confirmed....ten enemy ships following us...they're off the starboard side...range...nine megameters," in a slightly funny voice. Holly wondered why Nova had her hand up to her mouth until Nova moved it and she realized with a gasp that her friend's lower lip had some blood running down it.

"Why were you late?" asked Nova as she got up from her post.

"Business...of a personal nature, ma'am," said Holly.

"Well, get here more quickly next time," whispered Nova in a slurred voice with a wink.

"Are you all right?" she asked as she sat down.

"I'm fine: tend to your post!" said Nova. "Right now, they're in that clear area in your scope."

Holly noticed them and began to call out ranges as Homer ran towards his post, stopping along the way to help fight the fire.

"Crap, my console's history!" snapped Rosstowski as Homer joined the fire brigade.

"Must've been that hit we took near Mechanical," said Homer. "That overload seems to have zipped right up your wiring trunk. Good thing my console wasn't hit."

"But I can't command the gunnery crews from here now! Captain," said Rosstowski to Wildstar. "Request permission to operate my post from the third bridge."

Wildstar, who was just getting back to his post, glanced at his readouts for a moment and finally said, "Rosstowski, permission granted. Get down there now after you shut down your post. The fire's almost out, and Sandor and Homer can handle getting the last embers of the blaze out."

"Yessir," said Rosstowski as he saluted and turned to his task. In the meantime, Sandor was still working with his good arm, and he and Homer were ripping wires out of Rosstowski's console by the lower access panels so that he could get a few spritzes of the fire retardant compound in the guts of the unit.

"The enemy fleet is trying to form a ring," called out Nova from her post. "However, they're having a bit of a time trying to get a fix on us."

"Their psionic can't even concentrate upon us," said Aliscea. "He's the fleet commander, and he's too distracted with these asteroids. I'm not," she said cheerily.

"Good," said Wildstar.

"How is it?" asked Homer.

"Rosstowski was right," replied Sandor. "This console's had it. It'll take me at least two days to get it repaired."

IQ-9 appeared through the port side lift hatch a moment later with a few extra fire extinguishers. "Sandor, you said you would need these?" he said.

Sandor stood up and wiped his brow. "Thanks, IQ, but we have this fire under control. Leave a few of these in case we have any more problems and go assist Royster and the damage control parties in Mechanical."

"On my way..." he said. "Why do I always get up here a little too late? A genius like myself should be able to calculate the probability of hits to the bridge in a battle and act accordingly. I guess that means I'm a failure. Orion died because I was not fast enough."

"IQ," said Nova. "None of us could've calculated this event to the moment. You're not a failure!"

"I am...for a genius," he said. After he left the extinguishers, he left. Rosstowski and Homer returned to their posts a moment later, both looking a little rumpled. Wildstar noticed that the cut on the inside of Nova's lip must've finally stopped bleeding because she wasn't dabbing at her mouth any more. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

In the meantime, Rosstowski shut down his post and said, "I'm leaving now, sir."

"Good luck on bridge number three," said Derek. "Get in touch with us by intership communications as soon as possible."

"Yessir." Then, Paul left after giving Aliscea a quick kiss.

"Captain!" said Nova. "The enemy units off the starboard side are now at five megameters range, but I don't know why they're not firing!"

"Sir!" said Homer. "I'm receiving a message!"

"Put it on video."

"Yessir."

The screen was filled with the image of a huge, rather ugly-looking spacecraft interior. Everything was in dark brown or red, and there seemed to be some kind of evil-looking fog or smoke in the air on the alien vessel. A bald, grey-bearded officer was in a black and white uniform similar to the pattern that they remembered on Cha'rif's uniform. He had orange skin and piercing green-on-green eyes which gazed out at them with a look of utter hatred. In the background, not far from his command chair, they could see others like him in light grey and black uniforms similar to his but not quite as elaborate.

"Permit me to introduce myself," said the alien in a guttural, heavily accented whisper. "I am Admiral Baron Tanshar V'dal, Commanding Officer of the Second Task Force of the Fourth Sherikhan Group of the Rikashan Star Empire, in the service of the Baron Cha'rif, son of the Duke Cha'rif, vassal of the Sublime Lord T'Grish Zaden, political ruler of our Holy Empire. I am the commander of the Fleet Flagship Er'vartz, never before defeated in battle! I am here with a large task force, augmented on the Baron's orders, in the service of the priests and priestesses of our Warbringer, a God who does not desire that you meddle further into our private business. You blasphemed him. That is why we are also at war with you now. Thought you would like to know that. Who are you, Terranisch?"

Wildstar stood up. "Admiral V'dal, I am Captain Derek Wildstar, Captain of the space battleship Argo, base ship of the First Interstellar Special Mission Force of the United Earth Federation, also known as the Star Force. You bet we're at war! It's a war your people started! In the past several weeks, forces from your Empire have intruded into our territorial space, attacking both civilian and military space vessels. You have taken hostages, as well. And your commander, Cha'rif, has broken promises to us. We have business of our own in the Great Magellenic Cloud which is no threat to your people. Since we are on a peaceful scientific and diplomatic mission, I demand that you heave to and permit us to continue on our journey. Otherwise, meeting me will be the worst thing that's ever happened to you in your miserable life!"

V'dal laughed a cold, evil laugh. "You, Captain, are an idiot. I have my own orders. I am commanded to disable your vessel and capture you and certain members of your crew . You will do so, or else."

"Never," said Wildstar as he stood there with his teeth bared. "Or rather, why don't you just try it?"

"Ah. If you do not heave to, you will be boarded and captured."

"Try it. We're all ready for a good fight," said Derek, with his defiance matched on every face on that bridge.

"Wildstar, the first thing we will do to you to break you according to our purposes will be to finish attacking you, and then to blast the burning remains of the Argo apart as you watch, aware that most of your crew has been left aboard. I'm sure the long-overdue final end of your reclaimed old Japanese warship will make you confess why you're really here, eh? Especially if, like me, your ship is akin to your woman? If that doesn't work, maybe seeing your women used by some of my troopers right on your bridge will break your will," leered V'dal with an evil smile. "My Baron hates that sort of thing, but he's a prude. I am not. Pity you met me! Do you turn back or do we get busy?"

"Admiral V'dal, you aren't fit to talk to me about my ship or my officers. Both of them are an inspiration to all of Earth! Let's see if you can back up your talk with action, Admiral!"

"All this from a man who can't leave his accursed squeeze and other women at home where they belong," hissed V'dal.

"You can drop dead!" barked Nova as she stood. "I'm here because I'm a warrior like everyone else on this ship! I'm here because I want to be."

"Oh, what a pretty little warrior you make. Very well! I'll act! But if we get over-enthusiastic, forget our orders and blow your corpses to the winds of space in the mother of all battles, don't blame me when you fall screaming into the Pit of hell! You drop dead, woman!! You too, Captain!" roared V'dal as he laughed like a madman while fading off the screen.

More golden-green bolts of plasma energy skipped around the Argo as Venture maneuvered madly through the asteroid field, Wildstar held onto his console and said, "We'll see, Admiral...we'll see!"

In the meantime, many decks below, the lift doors on the third bridge opened as Rosstowski ran onto the bridge. The ranking officer on the third bridge at the moment, Lt. Todd Voorhees, was also in charge of the second bridge.

"Paul!" he said as Rosstowski arrived. "The aft gun turret just took a hit. The gunnery captain's been injured there!"

"You take command there and try to get that turret back to optimal status!," said Rosstowski. "I have to command Artillery from here...."

"I know, Paul," he said. "Dash informed us of the damage on the first bridge." As Rosstowski took another officer's place, the Argo was hit again, and Rosstowski began to report on the intercom, "Dash...I've taken command of Artillery here. At the moment, the aft main turret is out due to another short circuit and the injury of Mister Solomon! However, all forward main turrets are operation, as well as all of the auxiliaries."

"Good: stand by for orders."

"Range, four megameters!" cried Nova. "They're closing! I read two battleships, ten heavy cruisers, and twenty-four destroyers! They got a good sized squadron together. They're within our firing range!"

"We can get them now," said Venture.

"Damn straight," smiled Derek. "Dash, you know what to do."

"Roger! Open all remaining guns!" barked Dash as the Argo maneuvered through the asteroid field as the Rikashans swarmed in. "Target, the Rikashan task force!"

This region of space was too full of asteroids and junk to send out the Black Tigers, but they were on alert-five anyway. In his cockpit, Hardy held on to his locked-down plane as the ship heeled about and maneuvered wildly to gain an advantage.

Right now, this was Venture's hour, along with Dash. Mark grinned slightly as he grunted to work his controls, noticing that the enemy fleet had been forced to break ranks and manuever wildly through the field to get a bead on the space battleship.

Now, this is like so many other battles we've been in, thought Venture. The battle of Pluto: the battle we fought to evade Captain Gideon and the Andromeda in September 2201: the battle we fought near Telezart in the space cyclone: just us, the ship, the gunners, and a million pieces of space junk. What a challenge!

"Derek!" said Nova. "Half the fleet has broken off and is advancing at full speed! Four of their cruisers and their eight escorts are converging at forty degrees starboard! They must be trying to hit us at short range!"

"The range is damn short," said Holly. "It's just one-point two megameters! It's too close!"

"Venture!" called out Wildstar. "Forty degrees starboard! Dash! Hit them with our forward guns!"

"Roger!" grunted Venture as he swung the ship around as she streamed smoke from her battle wounds.

Dash called to Rosstowski over the intercom, "Range to target, 1.2 megameters."

Rosstowski responded with, "Correct targeting: Lower elevation minus 14 degrees."

As Rosstowski worked on bridge three, the guns ponderously moved downwards. "On target!" said Rosstowski.

"FIRE!" snapped Wildstar.

"FIRE!" repeated Dash as he punched the safety switch.

As the Rikashan cruisers fired, the Argo's plasma beams blasted into their sides, destroying two of them at once, as well as one of their destroyer escorts. A second salvo destroyed three more destroyers. As the Terran space battleship pitched sharply upwards from the plane of the ecliptic to avoid most of their short-range fire, the Rikashan cruiser force commander, named Captain Vichna, went berserk and blew away his own Combat officer with his own scimitar, furious that his officer's gamble had failed. Then, with a curse, he threw the limp corpse off the seat in front of his startled crew and threw himself into the seat to work the controls himself, screaming, "That v'lecan shiadre'metz'verz'n azki'echhh fool! I will do this myself! You idiots had better act up to par or thine heads will join his on the deck! CRIPPLE that stinking whore-master's ship!"

Then, the remaining two Rikashan cruisers and their escorts regrouped and fired again as the Er'vartz and the other battleship sped up, to follow them, accompanied by their destroyers and cruisers.

The Er'vartz, its three cruisers and eight destroyers caught up with the Argo first. On a signal from V'dal, the squadron joined with the remnants of the cruiser squadron that had attacked the Argo a moment ago as the Er'vartz's sister battleship, the V'Shanda, brought up the van with its cruisers and destroyers.

"ALL ships!" snapped V'dal. "Since neither of our battleships have D'IATS surge cannons, unlike our Lord Baron's flagship, we must cripple the enemy with our guns. All ships, surround the Argo!"

At that, the battleship, five cruisers, and twelve destroyers swung around and surrounded the Argo, blasting at it as they circled the Terran ship. For a moment, the Star Force was caught in a madly blasting ring of ships just as the Paladin had been caught in a ring of Gamilon destroyers in 2199.

The aft auxiliary gun turret was filled with fire as it took a hit, killing its gun crew.

Not far away, fire raked across two starboard side pulse laser gunhouses, killing even more gunners. As Sandor's damage status screen lit up like a deranged Christmas tree, Wildstar hissed and snapped at Venture, "Pitch ninety degrees above the ecliptic, and full power on all engines!"

Venture struggled to make the turn as the Argo took three more hits, and then he smiled and said, "All engines, ahead full!"

The smoking Argo rocketed up out of the plane of battle as Nova called, "NO! I read thirty-five more ships advancing on us!"

Venture maneuvered wildly to avoid stray asteroids as a premonition suddenly came to Aliscea.

In her mind's eye, she saw something tumbling towards them: not an asteroid, but a spinning piece of spacecraft wreckage: perhaps the long-dead remains of another warship that had fought a battle here and lost centuries ago. Having no time to muse upon which other enemy had waylaid the crew of that ship here, she cried: "Venture! Slow to three-quarters speed and change course fifty degrees to port! There's a wrecked ship spiraling towards us!"

"Hey!" said Parsons. "Are you playing games on us or something, Aliscea? That's silly!"

"Shut up and keep your eyes on your scope, Parsons!" barked Venture. "Trust the woman! She just kept us from going insane a while ago! Engines, back one quarter! Fifty degrees port!"

The Argo slowed down as Nova looked at her scope and gulped, noticing that the enemy fleet seemed to be regrouping and coming back up their butt, firing as they went.

The ship began to change course a second later as nothing seemed to appear on the video panel. Suddenly, out of the dust and smaller asteroids, a massive grey hulk emerged, spinning crazily towards the Argo.

On the bridge, a moment later, Nova grinned as she noticed something on her scope. "Derek!" she said brightly. "In another two megameters, the asteroid field thins out! I think we're up and over the upper ecliptic edge! And we left those guys floundering around in there looking for us! Great!"

"I think there could be gaseous matter here hiding more scattered metallic asteroids: if that's the case, your scope might not pick them up," said Wildstar. "Nova, could you scan the area for magnetic flux? We can find the metallic stuff that way, you know."

"Gotcha! Scanning," said Nova as they sat tensely for a moment while Parsons called out the range of the approaching enemy fleet. After a moment, she said, "No magnetic flux readings, and I don't read that gas cloud, either. But we're still coming out of it. Just a few more scattered asteroids."

"That means we're free and clear!" said Parsons.

"No more impressions for the moment," said Aliscea.

"Except for the enemy" said Sandor in a low voice. "How many of them were left?"

"At my last count: at least fifty ships," said Nova. "And they're still behind us somewhere in the deep part of the asteroid field."

"Wildstar," said Sandor, "I have damage control teams deployed, but they're spread out all over the ship. If we take any more severe hits, it could cripple our effectiveness. Our rate of fire has already slowed down because one of the hits we took damaged the wiring trunk to the guns and Royster had to re-route the controls so Rosstowski could work."

"So we have to get rid of those fools soon," said Wildstar.

"They're back!" cried Nova. "Range, five megameters off the port stern! Speed, twenty-three space knots! They're boiling up out of that asteroid field like hot water. Not again!"

A moment later, more beams flew past the Argo and the aft turrets barked out in reply, taking out three enemy ships. "Nova! How long until we clear that field?"

"Ninety more seconds! The enemy has regrouped again: they're now three megameters abaft; and their speed is picking up."

"We're damaged badly," said Sandor. "We can't take much more of this," he said.

Derek looked up, and Yamazaki, who had taken Orion's post, just nodded in reply. "He's right, sir. We just barely got the auxiliaries up on line again. You can thank Parmon and Henson for that. Those two finally worked like a team."

"Venture, prepare for a short warp in ninety seconds. Take us straight out towards GQ-423," said Derek.

"How far?" he asked as he began to lay in the course.

"About...say...thirteen megameters should do it. Then, when we come out of warp, turn about one hundred and eighty degrees and wait."

"Wait?" mused Venture as something occurred to him. "You mean?"

Wildstar just smiled an evil grin as he said, "Mister Dash, I hope you're in a mood for some sharpshooting today. We've got to pay those guys back for the people they killed."

"Aye, aye, sir," said Dash as he caught what he thought was on Wildstar's mind.

"Range to the Argo, twelve girens," said V'dal's combat officer aboard the Er'vartz as the impressive Rikashan space battleship and the rest of its squadron cruised through the edge of the asteroid field. "They've just come to a full stop. Should I smash them now, sir?"

"No," hissed V'dal. "We want them captured...or we want to at least tell the Baron we made an attempt. So, hold your fire until the whole task group has regrouped and is in range, destroyers included. Then, we hit them with everything we have. If they don't surrender or get a religious fear of the Great Warbringer and run, we board them. If we can't get close enough to board, because they're still fighting on, we just keep on shooting until we can board them or they explode accidentally. I hope we can board them."

"Why?" said the helmsman. "Is not destroying them more spectacular?"

"No. The thought of those two blond Terran women and that alien woman on that bridge is making me drool," hissed V'dal. "First I want the dark blonde, then the younger-looking light blonde with the ponytail. I claim first plunder rights on them both! And we'll make their Captain watch the spectacle!"

"Sir," said the comm officer. "I must report this to the Baron when we're through. I fear such actions will get us in trouble, and are too sick even for the likes of..."

At that, the officer fell out of his chair with a scream as V'dal unholstered his personal sidearm and expertly shot his brains out right there on the bridge. "Who asked you?" he sneered. "Velmetz! Relieve him!"

"Uhh...yessir" said another officer as he tossed the corpse aside.

"Now...we wait...so we can report the good news to Cha'rif"

"eleven..." said Venture as the engine's output was directed to the warp mechanism. "Ten...nine...eight...seven.."

Now, we'll go on a nice...short...quick ride, thought Wildstar.

"...three...two...one," said Venture as the dimensional scanners bleeped down the spatial graph line. "ZERO!"

"Warp!" barked Wildstar.

"WARP!" repeated Venture as he pulled on his control lever. As usual, everything distorted around the bridge crew as the Argo blurred and dissolved into hyperspace.

"Admiral!" screamed the Er'vartz's radar chief. "The Argo just executed a warp!"

"ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha....haaaa..." roared V'dal like a madman. "They've decided to run home so they can hide their women! The Star Force has gone back home to hide under its mother's robe! The Gamilons couldn't defeat that? They're idiots! They're piles of dan'khed drying in the Great Desert! Mother of all battles and they've run! They've run! Wildstar, you are a fool! Communications! Begin reporting our victory to Baron Cha'rif!"

"Belay that!" screamed the radar chief. "They're back! Range, eighteen gerad! They've just stopped, too!"

"Maybe they're going to call me with the terms of their surrender," hissed V'dal as he rubbed his palms like a dope fiend. "Yess...I can taste my victory," he said, not wanting to say what sort of taste was on his warped old mind at the moment. "YOU!" he yelled to the comm officer he had commissioned to replace the one he had just killed. "Have you yet called up the B'eoneraze? I want to talk to our Sublime Baron."

"Yes, sir. With pleasure!" he said. "Correct my orders. Have Task Group twelve harass them while I call Cha'rif. Get them to give the Argo a hard time, would you?"

Not far away, two cruisers and four destroyers roared up towards the Argo, getting a bead on her. They fired.

"Enemy squadron approaching!" cried Nova. "Range, fifteen megameters!"

"Dash, prepare main guns."

"Yessir, preparing guns...and missiles...ready to fire..."

"Quick!" cried Aliscea. "They're firing!"

They fired again, and part of Dash's board erupted under him in an electrical lightning storm. "No! NO!!" he yelled.

He was thrown back from his console as his board sparked. Sandor and Nova were over in a moment, followed by Wildstar. Sandor, to check the board. Nova, to check on Dash.

"He has a concussion, Derek!" she cried as she and Sane bent over the unconscious man while Derek jumped over Sane's leg and almost fell into his wife's lap.

"Get him out of the way...we're still in battle," said Derek. Nova nodded while Derek threw himself behind the board. He and Sandor checked the Combat console with which Derek was so familiar.

"Gunnery central fire control's out," said Sandor.

"We can still use missiles," said Derek. "Bow torpedoes, ready to fire! Target; enemy task force! FIRE!"

The missiles took care of the nearest ships in a ball of flame. Nova sat back down and said, "They're still coming, but we got their vanguard."

"Good," said Derek with an evil grin. "Doctor Sane, is Dash okay?"

"IQ-9 and I are getting him out of here now," he said.

"Now?" asked Venture as Wildstar sat studying the scene for a second.

Finally, Derek nodded. "Good spread. Now. Yamazaki. Stop: all engines!"

"Stop: all engines!" repeated the Engine Group Leader.

The whir of the wave engine abruptly stopped. Down below, Diane Henson grinned and said, "You guys had better get ready!"

"Why, ma'am?" said a chief.

"Our services are needed," she said with a smile.

"Engines stopped," said Yamazaki.

"Nova: Range!" cried Derek.

"Twelve megameters: and they're advancing again! They're coming at slow speed."

"Nice," said Wildstar. "Okay...Yamazaki."

"Yes, sir?" he said over the silence.

"Open the circuit to the wave-motion gun!"

"Aye, aye, sir! Opening the circuit!"

Yamazaki flicked a few switches.

"Remove safety lock!" said Wildstar.

Down below, the locking pins slid out of the wave gun's safety lock.

As the orders sounded over the speakers, Henson said, "SEE? I knew he'd do something! Get off your butts, everyone!"

"Reset ignition point!" called out Yamazaki over the intercom. "Open main cylinder valve!"

"Cylinder valve, OPEN!" barked Diane. At that, the engine began to hum ominously as the low, deadly hum began to slowly build up in the low, throbbing pulse that had meant Finis for so many of the other enemies the Star Force had met in the past seven years.

Boy, that noise sounds weird, thought Aliscea. as she strained to hear the low, thrumming noise that was creeping up through the framework of the ship itself.

"Energy charge 70%!" said Yamazaki. "Now at seventy-five percent!"

Outside, a glow began to appear within the wave gun, glowing brighter as the magnetic field that protected the gun barrel increased in strength as the tachyon energy buildup continued within the ship.

"So, you have them, Baron?" said Baron Anton Cha'rif from the B'eoneraze as V'dal looked at his main screen.

"Yes," said V'dal. "They're cornered. Cornered like little rodents in their desert hidey-holes!" At that, V'dal laughed uproariously.

"What are they doing?" hissed Cha'rif.

"They've warped away, but we've...they're sitting there...and we've got them in our sights. When every ship is in range, we attack!"

"Are you sure about that?" hissed Cha'rif. "If I were you, I'd launch fighter-bombers, and be sure the cornered beast is truly crippled before you move in."

"Let me see" mused V'dal. "How long until we're in range?"

"Less than one minute, if you're curious," said the combat officer, who was nice and relaxed as a bare-chested slave boy was ordered up to hand out victory wineskins from a big basket. Someone had turned on a sound system, and weird Rikashan music that sounded like a cross between ancient Terran Gypsy music and Arabic laments resounded across the bridge. Some mechanical officer had gotten out a tambour and was banging it against his leg as some enlisted crewman got on the intercom with a gong and began to sing to the victory music with strange, hoarse, moaning cries.

"You see? We have them!" said V'dal. "You can hear the celebration starting, I take it?"

"I would be more cautious," said Cha'rif. "Those Gamilon traitors we captured told us they have weapons that match or exceed our own. I understand they have a wave-motion gun. Have you considered that?"

"What's that bright light out there?" called out a crewman. "The one that keeps on getting brighter and brighter around their bow?" he asked.

Cha'rif took a deep breath. "V'dal, that light is your cremation pyre. I wish I could help you, but I can't! Well, no need to slaughter you now...I wager it'll happen of its own accord, Idiot! "

At that, Cha'rif cut off. "They...they can't be firing now..." said V'dal until he almost dropped his wineskin. "Wait. Cha'rif told us...they had a...V'digash!" he screamed. "All ships, prepare to free warp! It's our only chance!"

"Target scope, OPEN!" said Derek as the big HUD display scope popped up. Luckily, the scope and controls were undamaged. "Set to brightness level 12! Target, enemy fleet dead ahead, range, ten point oh-oh-two megameters!"

"Energy charge, now at ninety percent!" said Yamazaki as the mighty pulse grew louder and higher until the Argo's engine was actually howling. "Energy charge, one-hundred and twenty percent!"

"Enemy fleet well in range," said Nova.

"All hands, don safety goggles," said Wildstar as the bridge crew pulled down their flash protection goggles in unison. "Ten seconds to firing! Prepare for recoil shock!" he said to both the bridge crew and the rest of the ship over the intercom.

On the Er'vartz, the drunken party had ended. Screams and cries ran through the ship as crewmen screamed out their final prayers on their faces on the deck to a Warbringer who watched the spectacle on his Dark Throne with a slightly nauseous feeling running through his being.

"So," said Ekogaru. "This is how they deal with their enemies. Fast. Vicious! Damn you, Cha'rif, why aren't you helping your stinking comrades? We have Aliscea in our grasp to take or kill! And you're letting the victory be thrown away?"

"Ten...nine...eight...seven..." counted down Derek as his hand tensed on the familiar firing pistol. "six...five...four...three...two...one... ZERO! FIRE!" he barked a moment later. Then, Derek smiled a tight smile and pulled back on the trigger.

The flashing, scintillating glow at the Argo's wave gun firing muzzle disappeared, overshadowed by a terrible blue-white light that looked like something left over from the day of Creation itself. The bright light turned into a blue-white beam that surged towards the Rikashan fleet like a raging comet as two of the fleet's cruisers warped out in a flash of light that did horrible things to the fabric of hyperspace as the two ships swirled off crazily in separate directions.

Those two ships were the only ones to escape out of ninety. As the Er'vartz began to warp out, the beam hit her head on, ripping V'dal's skin and flesh painfully off his bones. Then, the tachyons finished their work and finished ripping his bones and his drunken brain into sub-atomic sludge that glittered a little before dispersing along with the rest of the once-mighty Rikashan space battleship. The lack of D'IATS cannon in ships of that class had never been more telling than this moment; but of course, the Bolar Federation, Rikasha's most recent primary foe up until now, had never possessed such devices in mass numbers, so not all Rikashan ships had their Empire's surge cannon.

 A millisecond later, the Er'vartz's lack of a surge cannon didn't matter: because there was no longer an Er'vartz. And, less than a blink of an eye later, the cruiser and escort crews couldn't complain either because they were all dead, along with the rest of their ships, gongs, wine, and slaves.

With no more fleet left, the Argo's wave gun beam roared on, diffusing and finally spending the last of its energy on the far remnants of the asteroid field in a distant pretty lightshow that made Aliscea smile as she finally realized the great light had faded to a safe level, and pulled off her goggles.

"It's so pretty," she said with a smile.

"It's a deadly beauty," sighed Nova. "A lot of people die every time we hit one of those fleets. I don't even like seeing the enemy go that way, even though there are times...when we have to do it."

Around her, the bridge crew was cheering. Venture got up, grabbed Derek's hands, and said, "Great shooting, Wildstar!" "Oh...you're most welcome!" he said.

Then, Nova threw her arms around her husband, squeezed him tight, and said, "Great strategy, Derek! Good shooting, too. You've still got it!"

"You played your part, too," he said. "All of you did...especially Miss Rosstowski. Aliscea...shall we say...your insight was a real help?" grinned Wildstar as he winked at her.

"Oh, thank you!" she cried.

As everyone cheered, Wildstar said, "Attention...all hands. The battle is over. We've won a great victory, but we still have a job to do. All hands...resume normal work routines after our next warp. Concentrate on damage control and repair. Tiger squadrons two and four, launch and commence your usual patrols...we still don't know what's out there. That will be all. Thank you for your attention and for doing a great job today!"

"When do we warp again?" said Venture.

"Ten minutes," said Derek. "Aliscea, that Cha'rif is still out there, isn't he?"

She nodded grimly. "Yes...he is. I feel him. He's enraged."

"Then we've got no time to waste. Venture...Yamazaki...get us out of here in five," he said. "Lay in a course for Beemira, Mark. Twenty-one thousand lightyears. Get us ready for a big one."

"Roger," he said grimly.

"Engine room," said Yamazaki. "I know the Chief's dead, but we have no time to mourn now. Later on, we'll get together and remember Orion. We need to work now. Get us ready for a space warp."

"Roger," said Diane Henson as she wiped grease and tears off her face. "Okay, you people! Move your butts again! We need power, and we need it fast!"

"Warp preparations completed," said Venture as sweat ran down his brow. "Course laid in for Beemira."

"Energy level, ninety percent!" said Yamazaki.

"Prepare to warp in one minute," said Venture.

Beside him, Derek Wildstar locked his harness. Just like old times, he thought. "Aliscea," he asked, noticing the young woman beside him struggling a little. "You're all right?'

"I've...got it," she said.

"I'm in," said Sandor as Nova helped him buckle up, mindful of the fact that he had only one arm for the moment.

"Me too," said Parsons.

Homer and Yamazaki locked in a moment later, and Nova was the last one to get ready. She was just catching her breath as she looked at her scope. "Two objects approaching. Range, twelve megameters, speed, twenty-three space knots. Image to main video panel!"

The crew looked up. "Not more of them!" said Wildstar. "And we can't fight! Our energy's in the engine for the warp."

"Should we abort?" asked Sandor.

"Forty-five seconds to warp," said Venture.

Derek shook his head. "Hold on...it looks like those cruisers are just locking on! We might just make it!"

"Thirty seconds," said Venture. "Approaching warp-out point!"

"Range, ten megameters!" said Nova.

"Ten seconds!" said Mark. "Nine..." he counted down as his fist clenched around the appropriate lever. "...seven...six...five...four...three.."

On one of the enemy cruisers, the blond-haired Rikashan Captain smiled and said, "All guns...FIRE!"

"two..." said Venture, ignoring the green bolts that roared in. In the distance, they could see the rest of Cha'rif's fleet, over two hundred ships, warping in. "...one...zero...WARP!"

Venture pulled back the lever and warped the ship just as the energy bolts hit. The bursts of fire seemed strangely muffled, as if they had come through cotton wool. A few of Venture's instruments twitched, but there was no other effect upon the Argo as she warped out.

In hyperspace, the passage was fairly normal...if the weirdness of hyperspace can be considered normal, that is.

Derek looked up. "Well....we're here," he said. Then, he did a double-take as he looked at the planet. "Hey!" he said. "That's not Beemira! Beemira is a blue and green planet like Earth! That looks like some kind of desert world! Venture, where the heck are we?"

Mark looked at the astro-compass and then looked at his sensors. "We took a hit right as we were warping out. We just went another ten thousand light-years more than we were supposed to go. The hit must have affected our engine."

"So where'd we go?" asked Wildstar.

"We went off ten thousand more lightyears in a parabola off towards the Small Magellenic Cloud into unexplored space past the little cluster we mapped in the area around NGC-56121," said Venture. "I have no idea what star that is...nor what planet that is."

"Strange," said Nova as she took a scan. "Derek, this is a very weird place! For some reason, wave upon wave of hyperspatial energy and waves of time-space displacement all come together around that planet. It's like some kind of locus or junction of some type!"

"Are we still in our own time and space?" asked Derek with a lump in his throat.

Nova and Sandor looked at the scope together; Steve had gotten up because he was curious at Nova's discovery. "We are," said Nova. "And we're also in about ten other time streams at the same time. And possibly in five other universes at once...all simultaneously? What kind of place is this?"

"Is her scope working right, Sandor?"

"Unfortunately, it is, Wildstar."

"Wildstar! I'm getting a message; audio-only!" said Homer. "She wants to talk to us...but...it's weird. Switch to main speakers?"

"Derek, be careful," said Aliscea. "I sense something very weird about that woman. Something even I can't figure out."

"What is it? Is she dangerous?" said Wildstar.

"Yes. And no. And she has been to the end of time and back. Perhaps she is..."

"Who?" said Derek.

"She has many names, if she is whom I am thinking of," said Aliscea with her eyes closed. "You are about to speak to the strangest woman in the known Universe."

"What the...?" muttered Derek.

A low, authoritative feminine voice suddenly came over the Argo's speakers. "Welcome, Yamato. I was expecting you."

"Yamato?" murmured Wildstar. "Whomever you are, this ship isn't called the Yamato anymore. I mean...uh...she was for a brief time...as a space battleship, but Captain Avatar renamed her the Argo. Who are you and what do you want of us?"

"I have been through time and back," said the mysterious woman. "I am in space but one with it. I travel through space and time forever. You are at a focal point in your mission, Captain Wildstar. Or, is the clan name really Kodai? I called your great ship Yamato because she has been known and will be known to me always as Yamato. Long ago in my youth on Larmetal I learned of your ship. I hoped I would meet with her someday in her youth. It is an honor to meet with you as you were in your youngest days, Captain. Great to meet with Yamato as her kami is still young and burns with love and brightness. As do all of you. I must leave you soon. I have arranged a meeting between you and two men and a woman who can help you regain your bearings and help you leave this planet, Heavy Melder, safely. Two of these men have existed together throughout history, meeting here and again, again and anon. They are together again, the shorter with the woman he loves. When you come here, Captain Wildstar, you and Nova must come together in civilian clothing. You will come to a small population center called Gun Frontier in the southern hemisphere of this planet, like a Western American town of ancient times. There, seek out Harlock, Tochiro, and Emeraldas. They will help you on your way out of this unexplored space, and help you with important information."

Wildstar was puzzled. "Who are you? You know about us, but what is your name? Can we trust you?"

"If you are stopped in your mission, Ekogaru's Empire shall become the Mechanized Empire, worse and more virulent even than it is in my time. They shall take the whole universe with their weapons. As for me, my name is..."

They heard a strange, high-pitched voice saying, "Come on! We don't have much time! The train is due to leave!"

Nova's ears went up as she heard something that sounded like an ancient steam train whistle in the background.

Then, the woman said, "My name is Maetel. I travel forever on Three-Nine. I must leave you now. The best of luck to you, Captain Wildstar."

"Thank you," said Wildstar as the transmission cut off. He and the rest of the bridge crew looked at each other with mystified eyes. "Aliscea, can we trust her?"

"As much as you can trust me," said Aliscea enigmatically. "Strange woman. I heard her in a different sense and a different voice than any one of you mortals. She can be trusted. Now, come on, Derek and Nova. I think you have an appointment?"

Derek and Nova looked at each other with mystified looks as Aliscea left. Finally, Nova said. "Uhh...I'll scan the planet. See what I can find at the Southern Hemisphere, and see what the climate's like."

"Good idea," said Derek. "Strange...I heard of a Harlock somewhere, but I can't remember where. I read about him in a history book someplace...I think. Something about him being a pilot...something about the Owen Stanley Mountains..."

"You want me to take command, I take it?" said Venture.

"Yes," said Derek. "It shouldn't take us too long down there. We'll keep in touch."

"So you're going?" said Sandor.

"Do we have a choice?" said Derek. "Aliscea said we should. Maetel...or whatever her name is...said we should. Nova, you can find me in our quarters."

And, on that note, Derek left.