Courage of Grilkka—Direfang-Class Dreadnought

Periphery of Messier 35, the Shoe Buckle Cluster

3,048 light-years from Earth

Holding in Null Space

The Protector observed the shadow scout drones slipping back into null space, pleased with the lack of observable transition thresholds. As one, they all began to download the results of their scans to the Courage of Grilkka and the Protector shunted 92% of its processing power to the task of analyzing the data streams for maximum efficiency.

Its neural nets sizzled as trillions of calculations were run until the Protector was satisfied that all possible variables and outcomes were considered. The gril'nath ships that had captured the vessel with the allies of the creators were now fighting to protect that ship from other more powerful and numerous gril'nath vessels.

These new gril'nath vessels were compared to all known ships in the databanks, and the Protector realized that they shared a design lineage and tech emissions profile that matched only one known species: the Bal'Ri'Kan.

It created a projection algorithm and ran it over a 120,000-cycle evolution based on all available information within its databanks. Its neural nets hummed uncomfortably as the result of the projection indicated an 87.63% probability that these ships were indeed Bal'Ri'Kan in origin.

The foe of the creators it was charged with protecting was back, and they were going to destroy the only chance the Protector had to save its creators and fulfill its final command before they went into stasis to stave off their biological termination.

The unexpected appearance of the Bal'Ri'Kan after 122,998 cycles since they were last detected almost caused the Protector to suffer a crippling cognition fault that took several solar seconds to resolve, though there were still random errors cropping up that forced it to create a submind to contain them as the Protector continued collating billions of data points.

The vessel with the allies of the creators had suffered severe damage and was drifting with no primary power sources detected, and of the twelve small gril'nath ships that were fighting to protect them against overwhelming odds, only five were still combat effective.

Two enemy battleships, six heavy cruisers, and twelve destroyer-sized vessels were currently heading directly for the derelict vessel as the remaining five gril'nath ships nipped at their heels.

The programming of the Protector included concepts of honorable conduct and an appreciation for courage and sacrifice in battle, and it saw the unscented gril'nath displaying the same concepts as they fought to the last in defense of the allies of the creators.

Perhaps they were worthy of initiating first contact protocols with after all, and the Protector made its decision before issuing orders over the command network.

War Pack One, execute Attack Pattern Four; secure the allied vessel and destroy all enemy ships marked as Bal'Ri'Kan. Unless attacked, ignore the unscented gril'nath scout vessels.

War Pack Two through Eighteen, hold position and veil the pelt. Ears low, tail still.

The Protector activated the direct neural link to the combat systems and felt itself becoming one with the Courage of Grilkka. As the status reports entered its awareness, the Protector felt the offensive and defensive command nodes merging with it, and now the weapons and shields were an extension of itself.

It felt powerful, and pleasurable sensations made its neural nets quiver with anticipation of fulfilling its primary function as it activated the null space engines and sent the final command to all eighty-three waiting warships of War Pack One.

Attack.

Truth of Slir'lass, Trilla'Ssk-Class Scout Ship

Hunter-Scout Squadron 11, Exalted Crusader Fleet

Lar'ri shrieked in frustration as a pack of Bal'Ri'Kan warships broke through the rapidly diminishing Thari'shul and headed directly for their new allies, firing dozens of missiles and small kinetic slugs at the matron's ship.

"I want all available ships to reorient and attack the breaching force; establish Firelink Protocol to slave all weapons to our battle computer and target the two battleships first. Execute!"

Lar'ri was thrown forward against the harness as the bow thrusters and engines were fired to arrest the ship's momentum, and she felt her stomach floating as the ship flipped over before being thrown back against her nesting bench.

An unbearable weight pressed down on her as the aft engines blasted at emergency thrust, and she clenched her entire body to keep the blood in her brain, seeing the edges of her sight darkening before the gravity generators finally compensated and brightness returned to her peripheral vision.

The G-forces lifted off her just enough so she could finally breathe, and she desperately drew in precious air as the sounds of the bow turrets firing drowned out the chattering of the techs for several inta's before the turrets entered their cooldown and recharge cycle as the chamber lighting returned to its normal brightness.

On the viewer, she could see the matron's ship executing complex evasive maneuvers that gave her pause as the vessel impossibly dodged a salvo of small mass driver slugs and missiles.

A flash of mild jealousy passed through her as the matron's ship continued to expertly evade the fire of the Bal'Ri'Kan bearing down on them, firing their own point defenses with an unbelievable accuracy that destroyed another ten missiles as the ship rotated along its axis and spat out death all around it.

This Battle-Matron and her clan are blessed to have such crusaders among their ranks; they are the allies we have been searching for, she thought to herself as she quickly glanced around the command chamber at her own crusaders, feeling extreme pride in them as they performed their duties with skill and precision.

She forced herself to focus on the battle again, her mind racing as she took in all the data being displayed on multiple holo screens. They were thrusting at full power, but her trained eyes could see they would not be able to intercept the Bal'Ri'Kan and blunt their attack in time.

"Continue firing all available weapons; target the aft section in this location—both battleships!" She hissed angrily as her blunted claw tapped on the small holo screen positioned in front of her right hand and highlighted the port tail section right in front of the main engines.

Scans indicated it was a primary energy junction, and if they could destroy it, the battleships would lose power to both engines and weapons until they either repaired or rerouted the conduits.

"Our bow turrets are still cycling, Battle-Matron; if we interrupt the cooldown, it will—"

"Keep firing!" She shrieked, cutting off the weapons tech as she saw the ship they had vowed to protect finally get hit with a small mass driver slug in a glancing blow that tore out a huge section of the underbelly of the ship.

She anxiously growled as two Bal'Ri'Kan anti-ship missiles were destroyed a moment later just under a hundred and twenty draks from the vessel, the fragments tearing into the side of the matron's ship as small geysers of gases and flash-frozen fluids erupted from the many small hull breaches created by the impacts.

"We will keep our promise to protect them! Keep firing all weapons until they turn to slag if need be. Pilot, prepare to hull-spear the closest battleship! Divert emergency power to the bow polarization emitters and execute emergency override of the reactors; go to 140% thrust as soon as our primary bow weapons burn out."

The techs feverishly worked to execute her new commands, and she felt her scales flushing with pure rage as the Spear of Lissh'kar was hit by four missiles that were fired from the tail tubes of their quarry before vanishing in a brilliant orb of destruction.

A low grumble erupted in her vocal sac as she sang for their passing, the others joining in as the mourning dirge echoed off the bulkheads of the command chamber and smothered her spirit.

She wanted to properly mourn them for the allotted time, but she forced herself to stop and refocus on the battle, saddened that the crusaders of the Spear of Lissh'kar would go to Paradise in silence instead of hearing their brothers and sisters singing for them as they departed from this realm.

The matron's vessel was still fiercely fighting, and she felt her lingering sadness turn into deep respect as the ship fired a salvo of missiles and torpedoes, crippling an approaching heavy cruiser that was maneuvering alongside them to deploy grapplers.

Are they trying to capture them? She wondered in confusion as the heavy cruiser lost control and continued to drift unpowered, forcing one of the battleships to execute emergency maneuvers to avoid colliding with the derelict ship.

Other ships had to initiate evasive maneuvers to avoid both the heavy cruiser and the massive battleship now careening through their ranks, and the entire Bal'Ri'Kan attack formation lost cohesion as they attempted to disperse.

"They are charging their null space engines, Battle-Matron!" the tech hissed happily, and the others hooted with pure joy for the matron and her brave crusaders they were fighting to protect. Soon they will escape, and their sacrifices this day will ensure the Exalted Fleet will gain new allies for the battles to come.

She added her own hoot to theirs, her air sacs expanding with pride as the matron's vessel executed another brilliant series of evasive maneuvers that caused two pursuing Bal'Ri'Kan heavy destroyers to nearly ram into each other, further destabilizing the already disordered attack formation.

Another heavy destroyer darted its way through the chaos of the Bal'Ri'Kan formation, using the confusion of the moment as cover to flank the Matron's ship as it slid up alongside them and opened their grappler ports.

Like a cornered prey animal, the matron's crusaders continued to fight, and her pupils dilated with surprise as two strangely shaped turrets emerged from behind armored hatches that blended in with the armor plating. What are these? she wondered excitedly as she saw electricity arcing from the turrets.

The two turrets targeted the smaller Bal'Ri'Kan warship and then flashed brilliantly with a surge of raw power before two massive hull breaches suddenly appeared in the enemy warship.

She purred with contentment before honking with pure joy at the trickery of the matron and her crusaders as the heavy destroyer tumbled out of control, trailing wreckage and bodies from the unexpectedly vicious bite of the still lethal allied vessel.

The Bal'Ri'Kan ships must have detected the energy buildup of the null space capacitors because they stopped trying to reorganize and instead targeted the matron's ship with multiple particle weapons before firing a concentrated volley directly into the tail of the vessel.

Multiple beams slammed into it and tore off the entire tail section, the main engine module exploding catastrophically and causing the rest of the allied vessel to flip over entirely as flash-frozen fluids and debris poured out of the interior.

She saw the interior lights flickering through the now exposed tail end as the vessel slowly rotated, and an inta later, a Bal'Ri'Kan anti-ship missile slammed right into the side of the vessel, causing it to tumble wildly out of control from the kinetic impact of the large missile.

The ship went dark, and the scanners showed a 98% drop in power level readings as she screeched with fury at what had just happened. They were so close to escaping, and now they were derelict, trapped here with the rest of them.

The missile warhead must have been disarmed and used as a crippling kinetic impactor instead of tearing the ship in half, which meant they still wanted to capture it. The reinforcing war packs have not arrived yet, and she only had five ships still capable of combat to fight against the two battleships, three heavy cruisers, and six heavy destroyers still trying to capture the matron's derelict ship.

Another fourteen enemy ships were coming in behind them from the now broken Thari'shul, the other hunter-scout ships either destroyed or crippled and no longer part of this fight. We are going to die, she realized with sadness as she forced herself to confront the truth.

She flicked out her tongue, tasting the bitterness of defeat for the first and last time in her life as she acknowledged her failure. She made a promise to Battle-Matron Shi'lah Mik'ra'hi, and they will not be able to keep it. All they could do was try to slay as many Bal'Ri'Kan as they could before their end came, and she called out her final command.

"The Bal'Ri'Kan are still trying to capture them. I will not let that happen; I will destroy them first before I let those foul beasts torture them for information before devouring them alive; it is the least we can do for our new allies. I will personally target the matron's vessel with our missiles and destroy them; it is my responsibility to end their lives after failing in my promise to them.

All other ships, target and fire all remaining missiles and torpedoes to saturate the enemy defenses and hide our true intentions of destroying the matron's ship. Once that is done, all ships are to hull-spear the enemy ship closest to their position. We will die on our own terms, not theirs."

She raised her dominant hand, surprisingly at peace with her imminent death. At least she felt the call of battle before passing, and she would go with her teeth on the throats of the enemy.

The ship jerked as it was hit with a broadside of particle beams, and she ignored the strident damage alarms as she addressed the techs again to bolster their spirits and prepare them for their imminent journey to the Paradise that was promised.

"Fear not, and be proud of yourselves, my crusaders! We had the honor of being the first to call the war cry of the Exalted Fleet; our ship, and your names, will live on in glory and reverence for generations to come!

Our memory will fuel the fires of the righteous crusade, and I am honored and blessed to have been your Battle-Matron. We go now to Paradise, my brothers and sisters. There, we will receive the special love and blessings the Creator reserves for those who gave their own lives to try to save others, as promised!"

"As promised, so shall we receive." The others intoned reverently as the ship rocked again from another concentrated volley of particle beam fire. It was time to leave this realm, and she brought her hand down as she gave the final order.

"Execute!"

She tapped on the holo screen in front of her and felt the ship shudder as the missiles were fired, regretting having to slay their new allies, though it was a truly merciful act. She was shoved roughly to the right against her harness as the pilot veered the Truth of Slir'lass towards the nearest battleship to hull spear them, and she struggled to breathe under the immense pressure of the thrusters firing at 140% of rated maximum.

She forced herself to keep her eyes on the viewer and watch the missiles she personally fired streaking towards the Matron's ship. She will not dishonor their last moments in this realm by looking away as they die by her hands.

She will sing for them as they pass from this realm to the next, and she sent a thought to the matron, willing the heart it was directed at to receive it. Forgive us for failing you and your crusaders, Battle-Matron Shi'lah Mik'ra'hi. At least I will finally know your scent when we stand before the Creator to give an accounting of our lives; I will vouch for your worthiness to enter Paradise with us.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

The Bal'Ri'Kan began to fire at the massive missile and torpedo volley, but they would not be able to destroy all of them, and they would not suspect that five of the missiles were targeted at the ship they were trying to capture until it was too late.

The missiles were less than five thousand draks from their targets when many dozens of transition thresholds suddenly appeared all around them, and it took her a moment to realize they were not the war pack reinforcements she called for as strangely shaped, low-profile black ships she had never seen before came out of the unusually dim thresholds at accelerations that were impossible.

Every single missile and torpedo they fired suddenly self-destructed well out of range of their targets, and she was too shocked by the sudden emergence of the unknown ships to do or say anything as the new arrivals began to immediately attack the Bal'Ri'Kan warships.

The two battleships were pummeled with what the scanners indicated were particle accelerators, and they were giving off energy readings well beyond anything she had ever seen before, according to the readings. She shrieked with unbridled glee as one of them turned into a miniature sun, taking out the four escorting heavy destroyers and disabling a nearby heavy cruiser that was trying to reorient to face the new arrivals.

The second battleship broke into three large sections three inta's later as their heavy destroyer escorts were torn apart with ease by a strafing attack of smaller vessels with ferocious-looking fangs painted on their bows that she didn't notice till now. She had never seen such a thing on ships before, and she felt her spirit soaring at the visuals as missiles and torpedoes streaked out of the fanged mouth like an ancient, mythological monster spitting fire.

Are these the war packs the matron said were coming in response to her distress call? She wondered as she felt herself being gripped with indecision. The new ships were of a radically different construction than the matron's ship, and her confusion grew as she looked at the scanning results, seeing that the hull alloys and energy emissions profiles were completely different.

"Battle-Matron! What are your orders!"

The panicked question snapped her out of her trance state, and she shook her head to clear her mind before responding. "All ships, do not target or attack the new vessels! Disregard my previous orders; come about to return to our brothers and sisters in the thari'shul to render aid and search for—"

She stopped speaking as the rest of the remaining Bal'Ri'Kan ships exploded into brilliant orbs of energy, causing the viewer to dim as it compensated to prevent their eyes from being temporarily blinded.

She felt her heart jumping up into her gullet as two massive, fanged vessels slid up alongside the matron's ship and ensnared it with strange energy discharges that gripped the allied ship and stopped its uncontrollable tumbling.

All the other vessels suddenly pivoted to face her ships with an eerie precision that seemed impossibly coordinated, and she felt her erect feathers slinking down in fear as she saw what was being displayed on the viewer and all the other holo screens.

Dozens of fanged bows with missile and torpedo ports inside them were now facing her ships with two glowing particle accelerator turrets above the fanged mouth like demon eyes. She saw the other techs responding the same way she did, seeing spinal feathers drooping and tasting their new pheromones flooding the air with fear chemicals as the sensor tech hissed in surprised shock before calling out.

"Battle-Matron, one of those ships matches the scans taken by our hunter-scout in the stellar cluster, according to the computer. It's the same one that sent the unknown languages to us as the scout fled!"

She felt her tense body relaxing slightly at the revelation, though she was still wary of all those weapons targeting them and the snarling visages as she struggled to adapt to the new circumstances confronting them.

So, they were not of the matron's fleet, but now there was another unknown entity involved that she did not know the scents or intentions of. She was just about to issue new orders when Tech Ir'lassk hissed with palpable fear before calling out.

"That same ship is broadcasting directly to us, Battle-Matron. It is in our dialect, and they are demanding we power down and respond immediately or be classified as enemies and destroyed!"

Her indecision vanished as all her possible options were taken away from her by the new arrivals. These were the very ones they were intending to share scents with, and they were here, now, demanding she surrender or be destroyed.

The ease with which they destroyed the Bal'Ri'Kan disturbed her, but the fact that they were able to take control of dozens of missiles and torpedoes and initiate self-destruct as soon as they flashed out terrified her in a way she had never experienced before.

They were obviously far more advanced than the Bal'Ri'Sar, and if she made the wrong choice now, the Exalted Fleet would lose the chance at incorporating a powerful and much-needed ally into the crusade, and there was a very real possibility that she might inadvertently create another powerful enemy for the Bal'Ri'Sar, something they did not want or need.

She looked back at the viewer, seeing numerous constructs being attached to the matron's ship by the two vessels flanking it, and the sight of it made her spinal feathers go erect in protective rage as she felt her motherly instincts come back to the forefront.

"What are they doing to the matron's ship?" She demanded as she looked at the sensor tech. The tech looked back down at her station, her blunted claws tapping rapidly as she ran scans to provide an accurate answer to the question.

"The ship just issued the same message, Battle-Matron! They say this is our final warning! Tech Ir'lassk nervously called out again. She raised her hand to indicate silence as she waited for the sensor tech to answer her question. After an agonizingly long moment, the sensor tech stopped tapping and looked back up.

"Those constructs are sealing hull breaches and sending power and air to the ship, Battle-Matron. One of them is a tunnel airlock, and I am detecting small mechanical constructs moving back and forth, but no indications of lifeforms passing between the ships or any attempt to board them."

They are helping them, she realized as her frayed nerves screamed out for relief. She was utterly exhausted, and it took all her strength to keep her eyes fully opened as she finally made her decision. "Power down all weapons and open a channel to the ship. I will speak with them." She called out, masking her true fear and worry as she forced her voice to remain calm and strong for the benefit of the crusaders under her command.

"They have connected the channel and are requesting visual communications, Battle-Matron."

She hissed to acknowledge Tech Ir'lassk's statement and was just about to signal for the channel to be opened when she remembered how the matron reacted to her, thinking she was Bal'Ri'Kan. She did not want the same assumption being made now, and she signaled for audio only before beginning to dictate slowly to ensure clearness of her words and intent.

"I am Battle-Matron Lar'ri of the Exalted Fleet. I thank you for your assistance in defeating the Bal'Ri'Kan and helping to save our allies that we were fighting to protect from the evil Bal'Ri'Kan. Our visual equipment has been damaged in battle, so please forgive me for only being able to respond with audio at this time. Are you of the fleet in the stellar cluster? We were on our way to share scents with you and discuss the possibility of joining our fleets together to fight the Bal'Ri'Kan.

I must inform you of the imminent arrival of reinforcing war packs from our fleet. I ask that you do not fire at them when they flash out and allow me to explain the situation to prevent any unnecessary hostility between our peoples. What are your intentions with our allies? I respectfully request that you release them and allow my ships to render aid."

She stopped speaking and forced herself to remain visibly composed, though her insides were gripped with severe anxiety. After another long and nerve-wracking moment, the speakers blared with a harsh, synthetic voice as the strangers finally responded.

I am the Protector. I am taking the allies of my creators to the Vault System and placing them under my protection. They will be accorded the utmost respect and receive any medical attention they require as we repair their ship.

Any attempt to interfere will result in the destruction of your vessels. In recognition of your honorable conduct and the sacrifices you made to protect the Magnati crew on board the vessel, I will allow you to send a single, unarmed vessel to the Vault System to initiate first contact protocols as outlined in the charter of the Galactic Federation.

Your envoy will be allowed to enter the Vault System thirty-two solar hours from now, and the duration of access will be forty-seven solar minutes before the access window is closed.

Any attempt to send more ships than allotted, or after the access window has been closed, will be considered as an act of war and result in the cessation of all first contact attempts and the destruction of all ships that try to enter the Vault System thereafter.

You have forty-seven solar seconds to confirm your acceptance of this proposal. Failure to confirm acceptance will be considered as a rejection of the proposal, and any further attempts to initiate contact thereafter will be considered as an unwelcome intrusion and necessitate a hostile response.

The voice stopped speaking, and Lar'ri signaled for the tech to mute the channel on their end. She waited until he verified it was safe to speak before looking at the sensor tech and addressing her. "Are you able to detect any life signs on those ships? I am certain this is a computer program or an artificial intelligence I am conversing with."

"I have been trying to discreetly scan them while you were speaking, Battle-Matron." The sensor tech replied as her hands continued to move over her controls. "So far, I have been unable to taste anything from them; it is as if my scans are being deflected by their hulls."

Lar'ri looked back at the viewer, seeing no choice but to accept the proposal if they were going to have any chance of incorporating with such an advanced and powerful organization.

The speaker indicated they were part of a power called the Galactic Federation, and the name evoked an image of a large and powerful empire that spanned many systems in her mind as she heard it. "Thirteen inta's left, Battle-Matron." Tech Ir'lassk gently called out to remind her of the time limit imposed by the Protector.

She hissed in acknowledgement before signaling for the channel to be unmuted as she filled her air sacs with air and emptied them slowly to calm her nerves before speaking over the channel.

"We accept your proposal, Protector. Will you please confirm that you will not attack the war packs that are coming to reinforce our ships when they arrive?"

I confirm receipt of your acceptance of our proposal. You will send your envoy to the Vault System thirty-two solar hours from this time in a single, unarmed ship. Your war packs have already arrived and are currently being held by our ships within a dampening field that has nullified their weapons and power systems.

I will order my ships to flash out and bring your war packs with them into normal space, and then we will depart with the allies of our creators. You will command your reinforcements to refrain from committing any hostile acts when we drop the dampening fields, or they will be immediately destroyed.

Do you accept these conditions and agree to take responsibility for the actions of your reinforcements?

"I do, Protector. On behalf of myself and my crusaders, I thank you for your restraint and your willingness to initiate a proper sharing of scents with us."

The creators imbued me with the ability to recognize and appreciate honorable conduct and sacrifice in battle; I observed these qualities during your spirited efforts to defend the vessel despite the overwhelming odds facing you. Your war packs are being returned to you now, and we will depart as soon as the dampening fields are dropped.

The channel beeped, indicating the line was closed on the Protector's end. A moment later, hundreds of the unusually dull transition thresholds formed 10,000 draks from her position before numerous black ships appeared with powered-down Bal'Ri'Sar ships being towed behind their tails by the same strange energy discharges.

Once all the ships of the war packs were safely past the now collapsing thresholds, the black ships towing them came to a dead stop and disconnected the energy discharges before quickly maneuvering away from the immobilized ships.

Lar'ri was already broadcasting over an open channel directed at the reinforcements while this was happening, ordering them to stand down and hold their fire as the black ships continued to move away. Once they reached five thousand draks from the ships of the war packs, the black ships flashed brilliantly, sending a visible energy pulse that washed over the Bal'Ri'Sar ships like water over stones.

As the energy wave passed over the Bal'Ri'Sar ships, they powered back up, and the black ships all flashed back into null space, including the two massive vessels that still had the matron's ship grasped between them.

Lar'ri stared at the now empty viewer, worried for Battle-Matron Shi'lah Mik'ra'hi and her brave crusaders. Numerous communications requests started coming in from the ships of the war packs, and she ignored them all as she spoke over the still open channel.

"All ships, form a Thari'shul around our fallen and begin rescue and recovery efforts." She noticed Battle-Matron Hir'lakkssa's ship among the reinforcements and continued to issue her new orders. "Battle-Matron Hir'lakkssa will command in my stead as I rendezvous with the Exalted Fleet and inform our Matriarch of what has happened here.

If any of those ships return, they are to be left alone and allowed to do what they want unmolested by our ships. Make no attempt to scan, intercept, or contact them. If the Bal'Ri'Kan return, you are to destroy them and capture prisoners for interrogation. This is very important; under no circumstances are you to initiate visual communications with them if they contact you, do you understand me? They will think you are Bal'Ri'Kan and destroy you immediately"

She indicated for the line to be closed and wearily eyed the viewer for a few moments before reluctantly issuing new orders. "Set a course for the fleet and flash us out. Begin damage control efforts and what repairs we can while we are in null space." Looking directly at the sensor tech, she eyed her for a moment before speaking again.

"Send a priority request for all scanning data recorded by the war packs before they were death-feigned by the Protector's dampening fields to be forwarded to you. You will compile all the data and have it ready to be presented to the wise teachers by the time we reach the Exalted Fleet."

As the sensor tech acknowledged her orders, she leaned back against the nesting bench and listened to the thrumming sounds of the null space capacitors charging up to flash out as she asked for a pot of Hral'kith to be brought to the bridge for them to drink.

The hot and spicy beverage will help stave off her heavy eyelids, at least until they reach the fleet and she submits her recollections to the Matriarch. She will request the honor of being the envoy, and she found herself hoping there was enough time to take a proper and much-needed rest period before the first true sharing of scents happened with the mysterious and powerful Galactic Federation and, more importantly, with their new allies the Protector took with them.

Her thoughts returned to Battle-Matron Shi'lah Mik'ra'hi, who was once a stranger but was now her battle sister after they had fought together against the evil Bal'Ri'Kan. Lar'ri had no choice but to believe the Protector when it said it would treat them with respect and care for them, but she still did not like being forced to give up the matron and her crew after promising to protect them.

A Thari'shul was not just a promise; it was an unbreakable oath to protect those within it, no matter how long it took or how many died to protect the ones inside the Matron's Ring. By all the sacred laws, she was honor-bound to fulfill her oath, as was every single crusader within the Exalted Fleet, from the Matriarch to the lowliest inductee, from the eldest matron all the way down to the youngest hatchlings still within their eggs.

Once a Battle-Matron calls for a Thari'shul, all Bal'Ri'Sar are required to fulfill the promise until their duty is done or the ones inside the Matron's Ring release them from their vow. The last time a Thari'Shul was called was when the Bal'Ri'Sar fled their homes during the Sundering Flight, as it later came to be called.

Hundreds of thousands of crusaders volunteered to be left behind and formed a Thari'Shul to hold back the unstoppable advance of the Bal'Ri'Kan zealots as the great arks were loaded with desperate refugees. For many solar days, those few fought with wild abandon, taking ten, sometimes twenty Bal'Ri'Kan with them for every holy crusader killed, but they were too few, and the zealots were too many.

After the last of the crusaders fell and the Bal'Ri'kan finally breached the Thari'shul, the Sundering Flight began—dozens of arks vanishing into the unknown, each carrying the last of a broken lineage on that terrible night when their skies turned to fire, and the last of the Bal'Ri'Sar mourned the loss of their homes and their loved ones as they left it all behind. There were no songs, and there were no prayers as they fled, just the sound of the engines screaming as their world burned.

She was startled out of her dark thoughts when the sensor tech hooted to let her know she had received the data Lar'ri requested on the dampening field, and she clicked loudly to signal for the pilot to flash into null space. As the transition threshold began forming, she thought of her battle sister again.

I am coming, Shi'lah Mik'ra'hi, and I am not coming alone. If the Protector has lied to us and harms you in any way, I will come back with the Exalted Fleet, and the Galactic Federation will see what angry Bal'Ri'Sar are truly capable of.

* * *

Sheila watched warily as the small, oddly doglike robots continued to move around the bridge and scan everything with thin blue beams. The last thing she remembered was fighting against the terrifying darkness that was trying to take her away as the ship spun uncontrollably.

She was jolted awake by a shock from one of the dogbots before the little bastard rudely scanned her and then walked off to scan something else. The bridge lighting and power was back on surprisingly, but Annika did not answer her when she whispered her name several times, and she stopped trying as she tried to get her bearings again.

That was some time ago, and she had remained in her chair, afraid to move as more of them came onto the bridge. She felt the familiar sensation of transitioning into null space though she did notice the lack of a transition flash, which she didn't think was possible.

She was very thirsty, and she eyed the water flask on Jamison's chair, her dry throat begging for the cold water in the insulated container. It became too much to bear, and she slowly lifted her hand to undo the restraint straps, trying her hardest to deactivate the latch as quietly as she could.

Every dogbot turned to look at her as the locking mechanism disengaged, sounding like a gunshot in the silent bridge, and one of the them scanned her again before surging towards her with incredible speed and scaring the shit out of her.

"Fuck off!" She screamed wildly as she kicked the dogbot away from her, watching it tumble for a couple of meters as all the other dogbots suddenly covered her body with multiple targeting beams.

"Shit."

She remained completely still, watching as the dogbot she kicked righted itself and stared right at her with its creepy metallic eyes. "I'm sorry, doggie; you scared me!" She said quietly to it, hoping her animal talking voice would convince it not to kill her. She flinched as a loud, dispassionate voice suddenly boomed from the small dogbot, scaring the shit out of her even more as the others turned off their targeting lasers and resumed their scans.

It pleases me to see you have regained consciousness, Magnati. I have many questions regarding the primitive level of technology on this vessel; it seems highly unlikely the Galactic Federation would have fallen to such a level of regression despite the devastation of the war against the Bal'Ri'Kan. Why are there no other founders onboard, Magnati?

She stared at the dogbot, not understanding a single thing it was talking about.

"Um, who are you? Why are you calling me Magnati? I am a human from the Republic of Humanity, and my name is Sheila Mizrahi. Where is Larry? I want to speak to her."

I am Protector. I am taking you to the Vault System to reunite you with my creators. Your genetic modifications may hold the key to saving the creators, and I have many questions to ask of you regarding the current state of the Galactic Federation.

"Annika! Answer me!"

If you are trying to communicate with the artificial intelligence, I regret to inform you that I was forced to disable it and place it within a firewall to stop its incessant attempts to protect the integrity of your systems. I must admit, for such a primitive construct, it was exceedingly difficult to bring under control and isolate.

"You bastard! Release her, now!"

I regret to inform you that I am unable to comply with your demands at this time. Please remain calm; I am detecting elevated blood pressure and rapid hormonal changes within your body.

"Fuck you!" Sheila screamed at the dogbot, enraged by what it had done to Annika. She had been eyeing the plasma pistol she left on Jamison's station, and she leapt out of her chair, lunging for the pistol as fast as she could.

She only managed to take two steps when her entire body was wracked by the most painful sensation she had ever felt before, and she fell heavily on the floor, feeling the warmth of her piss spreading between her dead legs as she saw the dogbot looking at her with its lifeless, metallic eyes before everything went black again.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.