The Black

Kamarin shuffled weakly to the interrogation room under the ever-present threat of the electrode prod armed guards behind him. The last month, despite the admirals lost perception of time, had been especially brutal. The tortures and interrogations had continued, and his diet of rotten gruel had turned his Gastrointestinal tract inside out. That would have been bearable save for the loss of his hope. His beacon had finally failed, the small L.E.D. on the side had faded permanently, and yet his tormentors had refused to let him die. The back of his throat still raw, his memory wrenched as it played back the force-feeding tube filled with basic nutrients and chemicals to block his regurgitation response.

The doors opened as he shuffled into the room to find the typical tools of his torment absent. Instead, a table had been placed in the center. Two Vorath he had not seen before sat opposite him as he stumbled into the single chair and sat down.

“Ah, Admiral Kamarin. A pleasure, I’m sure.” The left hand Vorath, obviously the leader, openly sneered at the state of Kamarin’s presentation.

Kamarin simply glared weakly back. He no longer cared, nor had the energy to respond.

“No matter, I’m sure you are undoubtedly still morning the loss of your… beacon. I am Centarus, I lead the forces that take your pathetic Unity.” Centarus rumbled.

Karmarin’s gut sank with realization as the words sank in, “I see.” Was all he croaked. “Then why do I still live...” he asked, he knew he would not get an answer, at least he hoped.

“Now, it is time to ask the real questions… but first” this Centarus waved a clawed hand, and a plate of food was placed in front of Karmarin.

Karmarin’s eyes widened as he recognized his native world’s delicacies, and the fresh aromas assailed his senses. His control failed him, and he began inhaling the food in front of him. In moments the plate was gone.

“Excellent. Now, Admiral Karmarin, tell me about this new foe. Who are these new Allies of the Unity.” Karmarin’s eyes narrowed at the strange conversational tone of the Vorath leader...

“They are called, Humanity…they..” Karmarin stopped suddenly, it took everything he had to not finish his sentence, “What…” He began... his body began to warm even as his mind began swimming,

A slow sinister smile spread across Centarus’ features. He already knew that name from his dealings with the Thermians, but the confirmation was proof that the suggestion enhancement drugs were taking effect on the Kawmari’s system. “Just relax admiral. Soon enough you will tell us all about humani….” A beep interrupted him as his wrist mounted comm registered an incoming transmission.

Kamarin’s head swam, his mind drowning in the chemicals from the spiked food. His entire being burned with an artificial need to answer their question. A small part of his brain recognized what they had done, and he fought the serum with that small part of him that was still in control.

“Interesting. It appears that you have born interesting results with your beacon.” Centarus turned to the jailers at Kamarin’s back, “watch him, report anything he says.” He growled before turning to Kamarin, “By the time I return, you may be the last of your kind, or… you can tell me all, and I will spare your world.”

Kamarin’s eyes lazily followed Centarus as he departed the room.

——————————————————-

-one month previous-

Ivar and Martina nursed sore bodies and stiff drinks. They were on the couch in Ivar’s office at 303 wing’s facilities. The wargames had ended only a couple of hours ago, and the two of them were just settling in to Ivar’s on base housing for the evening out of pure exhaustion. They had finally been defeated in an exercise, but it had taken the entire complement of Delmar’s planetary defense fighter wings and two destroyers to get the job done.

It had been the destroyers that had made the difference. They had provided area denial fire that had served to corral and separate Him and his bride roughly halfway through the fight, and Ivar had quickly been engaged by his entire surviving 303 wing pilots. Martina had been forced to defend herself as well, having to deal with two entire squadrons of mixed wings. Despite That, 80 percent of the fighters and one of the Destroyers had been deemed “Combat ineffective” or “Destroyed” before Martina and Ivar had been defeated. Their link had allowed them to coordinate accurate crossfire, giving locking solutions and information back and forth despite their extended separation toward the end.

Ivar was beaming. His 303 wing had only lost a quarter of its force and had been the ones to finally fell him. At least 2 of the “Combat ineffective” losses to 303 were due to his pilots physically ripping their aircraft apart in the attempt to follow him through his very Human maneuvers and G pulls.

Martina had been mobbed by sheer numbers, she had “killed” every fighter she faced save for 3 before the Destroyer nearest her had gotten lucky with a predictive PAC shot. It had cost the destroyers captain his ship as 3 fox3’s fired from Ivar’s R’Cari rendered it “Destroyed” moments later. It had been a grueling fight, and Martina had been almost relieved when she “died” letting her autopilot do the heavy lifting as she left the combat zone.

“Why are you so happy, we got our asses kicked.” Marty’s voice wasn’t angry, she couldn’t be considering their bond between them now. She knew full well what Ivar was feeling and why.

Ivar pointed to the Data pad scrolling the composite data from the war game. “That’s why I’m happy, Chika. You’ve seen the debriefs from the engagements with the Vorath so far?” Ivar waited for Marty to nod, “We are legitimately more dangerous than any single vessel in this system. If they can take us, with the new tech we are developing. The enemy is in for a surprise. Also, feeling you in full fighter pilot mode was… glorious. You taught me so much about how Humans think about space and combat. I hope to put it to good use.” He finished, taking a sip of his favorite Human beverage. Mac had raised an eyebrow when Ivar had shown him the image of a bottle of Traditionally made Mead, but Mac had given him a couple of companies to try. The semi-sweet honey brew had quickly become his favorite social drink, and still light enough on the alcohol content to allow him to enjoy.

Martina was curled up next to him, settling in whilst nursing a Zinfendel. “You were no slouch either, the way Delmar process 3 dimensional space on the fly is intriguing to say the least. We’ve turned flying into a science. Your people turned it into almost an art. I wish we could teach it both ways to everyone.”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t, I’m sure some human pilots would be able to conceptualize both. I know of more than a few Delmar pilots that could use a little more science in their pilotage.” Ivar mused, taking a sip and letting the smooth Mead unravel his muscles from the inside.

The two relished in their relaxation for a few more moments before a chime alerted them to someone at the door of the hanger/base facilities.

Ivar raised an eyebrow, “It's Admiral Grarzia. Were we supposed to be at a debrief?”

“No, that was going to be tomorrow.” Marty stood, letting Ivar off the couch as he quickly went to greet the Admiral.

Martina sat up a little straighter, preparing to get up as Mac walked into the room and waved her back down into the couch, “None of that Chika, I’ll only be here for a moment.” Mac stated calmly.

“What can I do for you Admi… ah, Mac” Ivar quickly correcting himself at the ‘not you too’ look he got from Mac.

“I have a mission for you two, You are aware of Admiral Karmarin’s disappearance?” Mac began, “We may have found him, but we are sorely lacking on Intel. We suspect he is being held prisoner by the Vorath, but we do not know for sure. I can’t go myself just yet, Admiral Gwen has me tied up finishing up the… Privateer fleet” he smirked slightly at the name Cory had mentioned to him when he committed to a Captaincy. “You two are the only ones I trust to get this done and live. You will leave in a week from now. It’s going to be a long one, So I am sending you with support for the trip out. I know how much deep space missions in a small ship suck, and they will be acting as a relay for your datalink once you arrive.”

“Aye Admiral, we are ready. What’s the mission?” Martina said formally, in spite of Mac’s proclivities against formality in private. “What’s the brief?”

“Tomorrow, I’ve already messaged you the full packet. Take a few days, read through it. Come to me for a conference for questions and final touches. You two know more about your capabilities than anyone else on this side of the galaxy. Take the time to process the last set of wargames and come see me.” Mac stated, “Otherwise, enjoy your evening. You did extraordinarily well today.” Mac gave them a quick smile before seeing himself out.

Ivar settled back into the couch with Martina, “So the Vorath have Karmarin. Gods preserve him.” He whispered, pulling his human mate to him.

“How bad is it. I’ve not read much about that conflict.” Martina asked as she resumed her curled up spot at his side, still sipping on her drink.

“They didn’t usually take prisoners, unless it was to bait a trap or to torture a high value target for information.” Ivar began, “The stories are ancient, but I know that if Karmarin is alive, it won’t be pretty.”

Martina let out a little shiver, burrowing deeper into his side. “That’s never good.” She mumbled.

Ivar nodded, taking a long pull from his Mead. “No, It’s not.”

_______________________________________________________________

Magnarus stepped into the conference room and sat down calmly, These Humans had agreed to his requirements exceedingly quickly. His gaze fell to the console they had brought for him.

“Send your message.” Admiral Gwen stated coolly. Her gaze never leaving his eyes. Magnarus was acutely aware of how many armed Humans were in the room at the moment, but he cared very little. This was his opportunity. He knew they probably had his native tongue in their translation matrix, but that was most likely from eons gone. He would be using more… subtle techniques to send his true message.

Magnarus nodded, typing in the coordinate code, and transmitting only code for his personal Comms. They would not be able to receive using this code unless a master code was used. “Legaris, this is Magnarus.” He growled with a single blink, “I have been imprisoned by the humans since the attack on Delmar. That attack failed.” Two blinks. “These Humans wish to organize a… prisoner transfer…” four blink this time, “I am sending this at their request,” one blinks this time, “I believe myself to be one of several captured here, however I have not seen anyone else” two blinks. “They await your reply” Magnarus closed the connection, turning to his captors. “It is done, now we wait.”

“That we do,” Admiral Gwen’s voice was ice. “We will retrieve you when we receive a message, take him back to his cell.” She growled.

Magnarus was escorted back to his cell, given a modest but filling meal and left to his own devices. They had permitted him a data pad with limited access to the galactic network, but he had discarded it as the trap it obviously was. He chose instead to perform a double of his daily Calisthenics before laying down in his cot to rest. His body followed his commands, and he was soon in a semi-conscious state akin to sleep but not quite all the way there. He never felt the pinch of the micro drone as it injected a heavy sedative into his system, sending him into complete unconsciousness.

_______________________________________________________

“Fire control, target the larboard contact with the MAC! Helm, get the PAC a firing angle on the Starboard target!” Cory barked. The data he was receiving through his helmet’s alpha sink was incredible, and His Commands quickly rendered the results he was anticipating.

“Solutions locked!” both the Helm and the Tactical station called simultaniously.

Cory took half a heartbeat’s pause, feeling for the right moment more than anything before. “FIRE!” he commanded, eyes snapping open as his Vessel shuddered under the reverberations of weapons fire.

“Targets destroyed.” Came the call from sensors as the two red icons blipped from his view, and Cory swapped to the feed from his ships Optical systems to watch the marked Asteroid turned target dummies flutter away in multiple pieces.

“Stand down from stations.” Cory’s more sedate mannerisms called an end to the drill as the Vessel eased her way out of the edge of the asteroid field that bisected the Signus system. “I’ll want a full report from all sections by 1800. Helm set a course for Delmar, and Comms notify the Shipyard of our request for a post shake down inspection.” Cory stood, quietly watching his orders play out before turning to the Human sitting next to him. “Jesse, you have the bridge.” He stated to his first officer, the man who had stood at his side in the desperate defense of Celest’s bridge.

Several hours later, Cory glanced up as his office door slid open, revealing a smiling Jackie as she sauntered into the room, “Ready for chow?” She purred, settling into his lap before giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Soon, I want to send a quick note to Patrick about the PAC. It might just be my newness to Human ship Power generation, but I saw a spike I didn’t like in the report from the drill…. Aaaaand, done.” Cory pecked at his console, sending the message before standing. They were almost to the door when the Console beeped in reply.

Cory glanced over and groaned at the “urgent” icon next to the new message, not noticing Jackie suppressing a light chuckle. “Huh, it’s a live transmission, its Admiral Grarzia.” Cory activated the office Hologram and received the private Hail.

“Admiral, this is a surprise.” Cory stated as the connection stabilized, “What can I Do for you.”

“Captain, Doctor.” Mac nodded cordially to Jackie, “Firstly, how is the Shakedown cruise progressing.”

“All appears well, I’m running down some slight power fluctuations from when we fire the PAC. Other than that, Patrick and his crew are proving admirably capable.” Cory responded glancing at Jackie with a quick apologetic look.

Mac seemed to catch the expression, “I won’t keep you long, I wanted to make you aware of a quickly evolving situation. I see you are headed to the shipyard for a post cruise checkup. You will have a mission packet waiting or you there, as well as two ships and two passengers.”

“Ah, Admiral. I’m not a carrier, Sir.” Cory gave him a look of trepidation.

“No, but you are the ship best suited for the job at hand, and your stealth coating is finished. The ships will be clamp docked to your hull. It’s R’Cari and Sombra. The details are all in the packet, but the trip is a bit of a run without proper quarters, and you are going to be the support vessel for this assignment. Call me with any questions after you get the packet.” Mac then smiled at the two of them, “I won’t keep you any longer, enjoy your dinner.”

Cory nodded his thanks as the Admiral closed the connection and returned his attention to Jackie, “Well, thing Just got interesting.”

“A problem for tomorrow. What’s on the menu for tonight.” Jackie mused as they walked toward the mess hall. Cory never did like dining alone as an “officer” preferring to eat with his crew.

“I’m not sure, Chef claimed it was supposed to be a ‘surprise’. I’m not sure I like surprises.” Cory mused as they entered the mess to see it packed to the gills with people. “Oh boy.” Cory gruffed as he and Jackie settled into the line for food.

“Have ya’ chosen a name for ‘er yet Capt’n?” The Human crewman in front of him bawled over the crowd.

“I believe I have. The Placards and templates are waiting for us at the shipyards.” Cory responded, waving the man back into line instead of taking the offered spot.

“Good! No hints?” The Delmar Crewman behind the two added in.

“No Hints. I’ll make the announcement soon enough. For now, we have a mission. She will have a name before then.” Cory promised.

“Good’nuff for me” The human in front of them laughed just as they all reached the chow. Cory chuckled as he recognized why the Mess was so full, Tonight’s meal included Gruvarett kabobs.

_____________________________________________________________

-2 weeks prior-

Cory and Jessie watched the Pair of Lethal Predators slink out of The Black and up to his ship. No clearance calls were made, no beacons were active, and Cory’s instincts flared slightly as they passed by his forward optical array’s. “Ready Larboard and Starboard Docking and Umbilical. Prepare to receive” He said quietly, carefully watching his Optical systems track the aberrations ghosting along beside his vessel.

A quiet clanking sound reverberated through his ships hull, signifying the two Fighters were attached and secure. He noticed the board render “green” just a moment before the report came. “Helm, Set a course for these coordinates, Maximum slip.” He ordered before turning to his First officer, “Time to receive our guests.”

Moments later, Cory was standing next to two legends. Ivar and Martina were just removing their helmets as Cory walked up. “Welcome aboard the USN Olyvia.” The Name plates had only just been installed even if her name was painted upon her hull. Her crew had taken to her name, a tribute to the Captain that Mentor’d her Master under the void.

“It’s good to be here Captain.” Ivar smirked before reaching out and snagging Cory for a quick embrace. “Its good to see you well, Cory.” The Fighter pilot beamed. All three of them were in Admiral Grarzia’s orbit and had met several times at various “Barbeque’s” that had become famous among the Grarzia clan and associates.

“A fitting name. I never met her, but I wish I had.” Martina added before getting an embrace of her own.

“My first Officer, Jesse Corbans. Jesse, Ivar and Martina Tras.” Cory introduced his slightly starstruck number 1.

“A.. Pleasure, I watched the recording of your last wargames.” Jesse stammered before catching himself, “This way, we have a cabin ready for you during our transit.”

Cory felt the now familiar hum of the engines as his communicator beeped.

*Jump ready captain* the Helm called to him through his coms.

“Commence Jump, I’ll be back momentarily.” He ordered, feeling the almost instantaneous execution as the Olyvia and her two piggy backs leapt for slipspace.

Cory settled into his cabin with Jackie later that night. Neither were very tired as the enormity of what they were embarking on weighed on them. The USN Olyvia was about to prove whether she was capable of performing the mission she was designed for or not. Their arrival coordinates plunged them deep into the Vorath Territory nearest them, following the trail of a dead beacon. Their mission was simple, drop into real space in the Void between stars and use their stealth to close to the outskirts of the Asteroid laden Red dwarf system with no name. From there, they were to be a relay, giving R’Cari and Sombra a link to the Confederation through tight beam transmission. They would be moving to silent running the moment they crossed the front line, and Cory was enjoying a final evening of amenities before power signatures were reduced to their minimums.

Jackie was softly snoring next to him as he slipped the data pad onto its charger, and a small pang of fear mixed with anticipation wormed its way through his being.

He prayed they were ready.

-One Week before-

A quick flash of white and blue heralded the entrance of a USN Olyvia as she dropped out of Slip-Space just outside of the outer boundaries of the desolate system that missing Grand Admiral Kamarin’s emergency beacon was last heard. The Olyvia wore the same flat black coatings being fitted to the rest of the Sol/Delmar armada was currently being adorned. Captain Corellus Grarzia stood on his command center in full Exo suit. His Command was under battle stations and fully depressurized as a precaution, but the anticipated ambush never came.

“Status” Cory calmly inquired adopting a ‘parade rest’ stance as he calmly perused his HUD. It fed him sensor feeds at the speed of thought, but it could only tell him so much.

“Board’s green, Captain.” Jesse responded smoothly, “Sombra and R’Cari report ready for pushback.”

“Granted. Void’s speed, with my complements.” Cory ordered before turning to his Communications officer, “Status on our Connection to Hades?”

“Coming online now, Captain.” The Delmar Male at the console snapped off crisply, “Test codes clear, we have contact.”

Olyvia Shuddered as the magnetic clamps on the landing struts of the Stealth Fighters piggy backing on her hull shut down and released their grip. Cory flicked over to his optical array’s just in time to see the main drives of both birds of prey ignight as one and quickly put distance between him and his Vessel. Ivar and Martina had been gracious guests, even giving an impromptu pilotage primary for those crewmen who aspired to take the void by their own hands. Now they quickly disappeared from sensors as they pushed themselves to the upper limits of sublight travel before shutting down their main drives and initiating “silent running”.

“Hurry up and wait.” Jesse muttered to himself, unaware that his com’s channel was still open.

“Indeed XO, perhaps a few drills would be appropriate to pass the time.” Cory watched the flash of surprise, then mild betrayal, then a final amused resignation.

“I deserved that. Very well, what’s the Drill for today.” Jesse asked with a resigned smile.

“I’m dead, we are still under silent running, but we have deck breaches on decks 3, 5, and 8.. Go.” Cory stated before sitting down, typing in the locations of the simulated damage into the ship’s computer.

An explosion of controlled chaos, goaded forward by the confident baying orders of his first officer, was unleashed upon the Olyvia as Cory monitored the drill from his command chair.

_______________________________________________________________

Admiral Folmuri glanced up from his desk as the subtle hum changed in his cabin. His Fleet had dropped from slip space in the void between stars. He flicked his wall monitor to external view greeted by a sight breathtaking in its own right.

Admiral Stevens had successfully extracted the refugee convoy, and has stripped off USN Iowa, USN Kid, and USN Furlong to rendezvous with Folmuri’s existing fleet. Folmuri flicked his console to external view. This was the first time the Delmar Admiral had seen an Iowa class vessel in the flesh. The Three additions to his battle group were not all he had received. Deep in Iowa’s belly lay a monster… Monsters to be accurate. Asleep in a medically induced Coma were the 6 surviving Bridge Crew from the battle cruiser Symphony of Death. They were to be bartered for the missing Kawmari admiral.

All of the Terran Marines were combined upon Iowa for this excursion. 250 Men, 5 of them in the Armor first blooded in the Daring rescue that had resulted in the acquisition of the library. Captains Collins and Galanis were reunited in this endeavor. They were here for a dual purpose, and they both prevented an escape and to initiate a rescue mission should the need arise.. They all wore gear developed from lessons taken from Previous encounters. Collins and his personal team still had their MACE suits, with the rest of the contingent wearing a much lighter more simplified kits that provided significantly improved protection from what was available previously.

Magnarus had believed that he had sent his message to Legaris. He could not know that his message was diverted from the transmitters and saved to be sent to the location of Kamarin’s beacon when the time was right. He and his fellow prisoners lay in their bunks sleeping off the sedatives given for their movement. Admiral Gwen was not taking any chances considering what the contents of the Battle Cruisers computers had divulged. The concept of the “Devoted” had been a grim parallel to some of Humanities more… grim histories. His message was set to transmit on Folmuri’s command once the chips fell into place.

Folmuri keyed his Com, bringing up Captain Gleesons code, “Captain, what is our status on Canary.”

*Beacon reports the Canaries are free, ETA one week. They are infilling at sublight* Came the reply after a moment.

“Very Good, please alert me to any changes in the Prisoners” Folmuri responded as he contemplated the preliminary data on the system in question.

*Wilco, Gleeson out* Folmuri smirked at his flag captain hearing the contemplation in his voice, recognizing the end of the conversation.

_____________________________________________________________

-3 hours previous-

*I’m going to have to have a talk with the Grem’s… Im cramped all over, The MK2’s are going to need some kind of Living Quarters* Ivar smirked as Martina’s mind reached out to his through the Alpha Synce, they had been under since their departure from USN Olyvia. Ivar wasn’t particularly comfortable either. R’Cari had little in the way of space. One could unstrap and float, allowing for some limited stretching, but it was not much. They had spent a week under “Silent running”. Only yesterday had they finally reached their destination, a ragged planetoid skimming the outer edge of an asteroid field that looked more akin to the rings of Saturn. These rings orbited an elderly Star with barely a Millenia left to its name.

*I promise, we will try one of your “spa days” when we get back. I hear one of these establishments just opened in Helyon.* Ivar sent back, groaning mentally as he too stretched cramped muscles and creaky joints. Ironically Delmar could handle the cramped notions of deep space travel a touch better than humans, but even Ivar was feeling the repercussions of a week stuck in a cockpit seat.

*Oh, I’m holding you to tha… hold on, we have movement* Martina paused for a moment before Ivar felt an explosion of Surprise mixed with carefully bridled rage *That’s the command ship that attacked Clint…* Ivar could feel her Growl to his soul

*The one that tried to murder the refugees’* Ivar responded absently, focusing his passive sensors on the vessel. I was nearly identical to the one they had captured in the Delmar system.

*Sending the Signal, there’s only one reason that Vessel could be here in the ass end of nowhere* Martina’s grim tone echo’d. Ivar only nodded and watched as the tight beam was focused and sent back to Cory’s Vessel.

Admiral Folmuri was sitting in on the Bridge when the transmission was forwarded to His Fleet, “I see we have what we are looking for. Time to Cast our Die. Send the Message”.

The Com station crewman nodded, transferring the prearranged transmission and sent it in the direction of the system in question. The waiting game sat in stark contrast to the carnage of the previous months. Soon enough the confirmation that the signal reached its mark was received from Canary.

“Helm, execute planned Sidestep Maneuver.” Gleeson ordered.

“Aye, Captain.” The Helm station called as the fleet synced navigation and jumped, leaving behind a sole transceiver in their place.

___________________________________________________________

Centarus sat in a private office, having called his flag captain in to review the message he had just received from the second in command of the missing Legaris. They had watched the surprising message together twice before closing down the console once more.

“What is your analysis.” Centarus rumbled.

“It appears we have confirmation of the failure of the attack on Delmar. Legaris appears to have escaped, possibly to be killed when his outpost was attacked.” His flag captain stated carefully. “I believe this to be a worthwhile endeavor. Karmarin has proven more… resilient against the serum than we anticipated. I have spoken to the Chemical Technicians; and sadly, we do not have time or the personnel to reformulate for genetic drift.”

“You believe that we may be able to get more information from the survivors than our.. barely... feathered friend” Centarus surmised.

“Indeed, We have assumed that incompetence delivered Legaris his defeat, but considering our recent encounters, a reconsideration may be in order. These Humans are not in our records from before. Our lack of intel on them is… disturbing.” Centarus crossed his arms in contemplation, unable to deny any of those points.

“We will respond, but I wish for this facility to be reinforced, If these Humans are reaching out, then it is possible the beacon was received. We will be ready, no matter what happens. They cannot have many vessels of the caliber we have faced, The resources to produce such a ship are simply too great for them to have many more.” Centarus ordered.

“It will be done Centarus.” His flag captain’s eyes burned with retribution fire, and Centarus smiled inwardly.

“You will be put in command of the task force here. I will go to the exchange, but I suspect they will make a play here. I feel your, aggression, will be better served where the fight will be.” He watched his Flag Captain perk up at his explanation, but Centarus locked him in a serious gaze, “Do not over expend our forces, we cannot bleed them if we lose a hand in the process. If I am wrong, preserve our forces, and record all the data you can. It will be more important than lives taken.”

“I.. understand Centarus, I will not fail you.” His captain swore.

Centarus mused over his options, before finally opening his Console to record his response.

_____________________________________________________________

Karmarin’s head pounded. His body had reacted poorly to the chemicals that had been in his spiked meal, but that was not what had awoken him from his unconscious state. Two Vroath Jailers were physically dragging him through the corridors. His claws were dragging on the slick deck plating. He tried to speak but quickly realized that his beak had been wrapped shut.

His Captors noticed his return to the waking world and a heavy fist slammed into the back of his head, very nearly but not quite knocking out Karmarin. He did not allow his torturers the second chance, falling limp into feigned unconsciousness as the grinding pain pressed his senses. He assumed he was being dragged to his death. It was a strange relief mixed with fear as he realized that he would soon be permanently at peace. The dragging stopped, and Karmarin felt the hiss of an airlock as he prepared himself for the end only for the dragging to resume, the tell-tale thrum of a starship hummed through the deck plating as Karmarin discreetly peeked at his surroundings.

He recognized the design ques as Vorath as he was dragged bodily down into the belly of the vessel, and they did not quite throw his body onto the cot in the Brig, making sure to not actually kill him. Moments later the Thrum of the plating changed as the Vorath Battle Cruiser jumped for subspace.

______________________________________________________________________________

Cory Sat uncomfortably in his captain's chair. He did not like this plan, even though it was his. Upon hearing the response, The 8 Vorath Prisoners and the entirety of Collins First Platoon were onboard, and the Olyvia lay to her station keeping thrusters alongside the Texas. He was the only ship that was small enough to facilitate the prisoner swap, but big enough to be able to dock instead of land in one side’s or the other’s hangers. The Response had been startlingly quick. This “Centarus” all but confirmed, by his presence, that Legarus was at the very minimum missing from his failed attempt at Delmar. Giving the enemy news that He had indeed escaped the fighting was unpleasant, but it was resulting in the exchange of an ally.

Cory looked up from his thoughts as his Helmet’s hud notified him of a subspace contact. A massive Vorath Battle Cruiser boiled out of subspace and began burning for the rendezvous point. Cory steeled himself for the coming interaction, flicking his internal Com over to Captain Collin’s channel, “Ready your men Captain. The show is about to start.”

*Understood* the Marine’s voice stated.

Dozer closed the connection before turning to his men, “Show time, Boys” He growled. As his men readied their weapons and began the march to the improvised brig where the rest of his contingent were standing guard. Soon, the 8 large Aliens were roused from their chemical slumber and readied for transport. Two or three of them snarled at Dozer upon seeing the Dagger at his hip but did not act. Their Eyes shone an intimate understanding of violence that awaited them should they be so inclined.

*Folmuri has made contact, we dock in 2 minutes* Captain Grarzia’s voice crackled through his helmet. Dozer was in full MACE battle rattle, as was the rest of his squad, with the rest of the platoon wearing more advanced versions of the armor issued to them when they left Sol.

“Copy, moving to the air lock” Collins replied, and the group of prisoners and guards began their walk to the Airlock. The walk took just enough time for the docking to have finished as they reached the appointed place. Dozer and his men readied their weapons, prepared for anything as the tell tail clicking and hissing of clamps locking and atmosphere equalizing made themselves known.

*Airlock opening* Capt. Grarzia’s voice announced through the platoon channel moments before the doors hissed open.

Instantly every Marine tensed. Across from them stood a Vorath Officer that appeared to be a mid level of some kind. He was escorted by 4 Vorath Crewmen in a strange armor that was almost a mix of load bearing equipment and a Victorian Era Spanish Cuirass. The most notable exception was the crackle of energy that seemed to denote a type of personal shielding technology. Their plate armor seemed to seamlessly blend into a void suit with an equally shiny helmet and visor.

“You have our men?” The officer asked slowly, his voice translated through the helmets of the faceless helmets that Dozer’s men wore. “Show me.”

Dozer turned to step aside, pausing when he heard a hiss of rage as the Vorath noticed his dagger for the first time. Simultaneously everyones weapons raised in responded to the fuse lit on the powder keg this transfer was quickly becoming.

Dozer slowly turned to face them as the Vorath Officer spoke, “Where did you get that. It Belongs to the House of Vorincia. Give it to me… NOW.”

Dozer slowly reached up to activate his helmet’s external microphone, “I will not. I know your culture believes in the spoils of single combat. We have a lot of information on you. Would you risk your ship for a single blade?” He spoke slowly, “AD VICTOREM”

The Officer stiffened as if fully comprehending the situation for the first time since his outburst. The Hatred burned brightly; however it was now retempered as the Vorath turned and gave his stand down order. Dozer’s men slowly lowered their weapons and allowed the Vorath prisoners to step forward.

“No, I think not. There will be plent of time to pry my family’s blade from your cold hands.” The officer growled before giving a curt order and a ragged bag of bones was almost thrown bodily into Olyvia’s side of the airlock. The Vorath prisoners were given a prod, and they walked across to the Vorath ship, and the Vorath officer slammed the button to close his own airlocks as Olyvia responded by closing her own before releasing her docking clamps.

Cory gave the order and Olyvia immediately burned for a quick jump into Slip-space, followed by the Texas, leaving Vorath Battle Cruiser behind. Dozer quickly pulled off his helmet and knelt down next to the ruined body of Karmarin. Slowly feeling for a pulse. “Jesus Christ.” He breathed as he took in the Unity Admiral’s state, and he quickly keyed his coms. “captain, I need Medical down here ASAP.” He snapped as his Medic slipped past him to begin frantically working on the Kawmari male. “my medic is stabilizing him but… It’s bad. I don’t know how he is still…” He was interrupted as the Karmarin burshed aside a needle, grabbing at Collin’s armor, eyes desperate.

“Kawmari… “ the Admiral croaked, “They… Rawkir… invasion.” The admiral faded as the Medic’s needle delivered its sedative.

*Captain Collins, did he just say what I think he said?* Cory’s voice was dripping in shock.

“He did Captain.. He seems to think that the Vorath are going to invade Rawkir.” Collin’s replied.

*Understood. Doctor Young is on her way. Grarzia out* Cory cut the connection just as Doctor Jackaline Young and two nurses careened round the corner with a gurney and bags.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Two weeks later, Karmarin woke up from a medially induced coma. He had been transferred to the main hospital on Delmar, and had undergone multiple operations to correct the sever trauma his body had gone through. He felt the fog of medication cloud his brain as he struggled to sit up slightly, only to have a gengle, but firm hand pressed him back into the bed.

“Easy Grand Admiral. You are lucky to have survived.” He looked up to the familiar face of Ambassador Gwen as she sat back down in the chair, an old style hardback paper book neatly placed on the end table where she had set it.

“Rawkir… Safe?” he croaked, nodding his thanks as The Ambassador of the Human race spooned a few ice chips into his beak. It was enough, and soon he felt his voice return to him. “The Vorath. They want to Invade Rawkir. Centarus, their leader. He told me before you contacted them.. I don’t know if it is a trap.”

“We have a pair of Canary’s in your home system as we speak. Its not trap.” Gwen said gently. “It looks like the battle for orbit has begun.”

“then it is too late.” Karmarin croaked slowly sinking into his hospital bed as defeat and shame washed over him. ‘I failed, my people… They..’

“I would not say that, Admiral. I have two fleets on their way as we speak. The Unity has committed themselves fully to defending your world. They are losing, but they are losing slowly. They know we are on the way.” Gwen’s voice cut off Karmarins thoughts as he stared in shock at the Ambassador.

“How…” he stopped himself, remembering the piggyback jump his ships had made during the defense of Delmar. “How fast are your ships.. That.. That should not be possible.”

“When you are better, I will show you. We need your leadership, and your presence to help us coordinate with what remains of the Unity Navy. Rest, I will come by when you are released. I promise, I will reveal much after you are healed.” Gwen put a gentle hand on the cast that engulfed karmarin’s right arm. The Doctors had been forced to rebreak a third of his bones before setting the nanites free in his system to facilitate the extensive repairs to them and the rest of his internal organs.

“I… Thank you..” Karmarin croaked, laying back in his bed. A small spark lit in his core; one he had not felt since his beacon failed.

Hope.