FOREWARD: To all of you who have been waiting for this one, I apologize for the wait. I won't go into the details of why it happened, but life threw me a few sudden curves over the past year. Once I got restarted on the story I also realized that getting it all into one last chapter was not going to happen, so here is the first of the new ones that will bring this part of the saga to a close.

Again, my most humble apologies for the wait all of you have put up with for me to get this one going once again. And a promise that the next part will be much sooner to come out than this one has been. I thank all of you for your patience and hope this is all that you've hoped it will be.

Maggie

 

Morgana

by Maggie Finson

VII

   

Chapter 10

A Highly Mobile Force...

 

Her words had sent a thrill of near electrical shock through my body, as had her nearness and presence in my arms. We pulled apart, and I drew in a breath, conscious that her whispered encouragement had been meant to be private. My own body, traitor to my intellect, had reacted to her being in my arms as well, and the evidence was clear to see. I turned away in embarrassment, fervently willing myself to think of anything -- anything, other than how this delicate, lovely, alien being had felt in my arms.

I could see the flush beginning to fade from her own naturally pale face, and her breathing slow as she watched me with every bit of the hunger I felt for her. God's, I'd fallen in love with a creature who had once been my best friend, but was now not only female, but alien. A very female, and beautiful alien, but a non-human. One who had become a bitter enemy of my own people, her former race. But that wasn't true, I knew. She was only the enemy of the NTF, as I had become over the years I'd served in the Federation's military.

"I..." her voice trembled as she watched the expression of wonderment on my face mirror her own. "I hadn't expected this to happen, Curtis; fought it when I became aware of how I was beginning to feel about you, and how you felt about me. This is not a thing I was at all prepared for, please believe me when I say that."

"I need some time to think about this, Lady," Was all the response I was able to give to that admission. "We have enough problems to deal with here and now as it is. I'm truly sorry, but I just need some time to think."

"As do I," her soft answer held something of regret, but also something of promise for things yet to be, if that were possible given our circumstances. We both retreated to our respective cabins in more than mild states of confusion.

"You I.G. Pukes having a good time with this one?" I asked, glaring at the small camera in it's clear plex shield mounted in an inconspicuous corner. "Well go screw yourselves, assholes, I'm not interested in being your entertainment any longer."

Following that outburst, I turned away from the obvious camera without attempting to either cover or disable it. The contempt I felt for those watching the video feed was quite clear without further demonstrations on my part.

I sat there in the semi-darkness that passed for lights out in a traveling ship without moving for so long I had to shift positions consciously to ease the growing numbness in my rear and the back of my legs. When I had started loving her wasn't the question here. That had happened very quickly as I learned of her changed life and the spirit that still drove her, even in such a different form. But when had I stopped being afraid of admitting that, even to myself? More importantly, why was I so shaken by the idea? Was it because I knew I was going to my death while she was going into something far worse? That I considered, even if it was irrational, that to be yet another loss she would have to bear? My own death didn't worry me, a good soldier knows death quite intimately, and comes to terms with the reaper standing at his shoulder or goes insane.

No, that wasn't the thing bothering me at all. What I was railing against in all this had nothing to do with my own feelings for Morgana, beyond a bittersweet grief over knowing we would never be given the chance to discover what the pair of us together might have been.

What did bother me was knowing what kind of pain, physical, spiritual, and emotional, the damned NTF, and especially I.G., had waiting for her once we reached our destination. While knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop the bastards from destroying one of the few bright lights in this part of the galaxy. A light that had put herself into their hands for the sake of a tired, bitter ground commander who had been her enemy not so long before. Why had she done it? What did she hope to accomplish by doing this thing? Did she have a way out planned beforehand, or was she simply trusting in fate to pull her out of yet another untenable position like it had on several occasions before?

Setting all that aside, I slowly came to the realization that what truly troubled me about all this was really none of that. If Morgana did have a way out, and the means of using it, for both herself and me, the question nagging at me was very simple. Would I have the resolve to take it if offered? Not would I have the guts or nerve. Nothing quite so simple as that bothered me. Truthfully, I was so weary of just about everything that death had seemed like a release. During the voyage towards it, though, I had found the spark of will to live. Not just survive, but live.

And by every god that ever existed or will exist, that was what scared the Hell out of me. Could I find the courage to simply live if the chance was given? Did I have the strength to keep going at all, even if I really wanted to? Truthfully, at that stage, I didn't know.

But something was telling me very quietly, though very insistently, that I was going to find out. Soon.

* * * *

Hours later, in what passed for morning on shipboard, I was getting coffee ready when I heard a stirring behind me. Turning, I saw that Morgana hadn't rested any more, or better than I had. Dark circles under her eyes testified eloquently to that.

"Hello," she gestured at the brewing coffee, then offered me a warm smile. "I sure could use some of that, especially if it's the industrial grade you usually brew."

"Be ready in minute or so," I responded, then offered her a grin. "Go sit down, and I'll bring in cups and the whole pot."

"I'd rather stay here until it's ready, if that's all right with you?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" I asked while carefully trying to gauge her expression as I opened a cupboard to get cups and saucers, along with a tray to hold the pot of coffee.

"You seemed to have mixed feelings last evening," came the soft reply as she watched me just as carefully.

"So did you," I pointed out with a shrug. "Both of us needed time to think things through, didn't we?"

"That we did, and I've reached my decision." With a lift of one eyebrow, she asked point blank. "Have you?"

"Whatever comes, comes," gathering the coffee pot, cups and saucers, and setting them on the tray, I nodded, wondering just when I'd actually reached that somewhat fatalistic conclusion, but not that unhappy with it. "I'll take what life decides to let me have, and reach for more given the chance. Is that enough of an answer for you?"

"Yes," with a quirk of her lips that I had learned denoted mischief in the offing, she gestured at the tray I held in my hands. "I'd show you what I decided if you weren't carrying that like a shield."

So, I set the tray carefully back on the counter-top and let her show me.

* * * *

Later on, both sedately and separately seated back in the lounge area sipping at the 'industrial grade' coffee we both seemed so fond of, and quietly talking about nothing in particular like the old friends we had been and the - lovers - we seemed destined to become, she leaned back and gave one of the ever present cameras a gesture I'd never really expected to see her use.

Giving me a wink, Morgana then ignored the lenses as if they weren't there. "You don't have any idea of how much better that made me feel, Curt. I've been wanting to do that ever since I was brought on board this luxury prison ship."

"I have a pretty good idea," I returned with a laugh. "Since I gave them the same salute last evening. And you're right. It did feel good."

"Pointless, I suppose," she laughed in her turn. "But Gods they deserve that and more, don't they?"

"You won't get an argument out of me on that." shrugging, I added. "I turned down a promotion because it would have put me in I.G., and in a most ungentlemanly fashion.

Did I tell you that?"

"I don't think so, but it sounds like you, old friend." with a shrug of her own, the architect of the NTF's current difficulties and my own, let out a low laugh. "I think it's time to finish my story, Curtis. Since I'm sure our audience is dying to learn how I managed to set them up so completely in the system you humans named Kirkus. Especially about what happened on Kirkus IV, or Pegasii as we named the world and system.

"Pegasii, that sounds more Greek than Gaelic." I nodded while carefully repeating the sounds she had made in naming the world, the grinned as she gave me an inquiring look. "And yes, I've been studying ancient Terran cultures and languages in my spare time lately."

"My race visited the cradle of your own long ago, Curtis," with a nod of confirmation at my own half incredulous look, she shrugged. "Parts of our language were left behind, along with legends of a half-mythical race of magical beings. We took some of your languages with us when we left as well, most notably Greek and Persian because those were the more powerful political and cultural entities in existence on the part of that world we were visiting. Names like that crop up all through Cheryii space, as Cheryii names, and in some cases, language, has influenced parts of your own origin world's."

"I can see how that might happen," I agreed, still chewing on the idea that Cheryii explorers had visited Humanity long before we, as a race, had even considered space travel as something like a potentially viable dream.

"But I digress," she shrugged with a small sneer at the camera lenses. "I would imagine that our audience is eagerly awaiting the tale of how such a resounding defeat was handed to the NTF in an area where no attack should have been anticipated. I take it that the leaders of the NTF are still more than a little stunned by that," raising an eyebrow she deliberately smiled at one of the camera lenses again. It wasn't a pleasant one, either. I already knew, from experience both personal and quite harrowing, that she was not a good person to have as an enemy. That smile sealed the knowledge.

"Yes, it was supposed to be a surprise strike deep into the heart of Cheryii space," I answered. "One that would establish a base to drive a wedge clear through your territory and split your forces. Thanks to you, it failed so miserably, the word debacle doesn't even manage to describe the action."

"Oh, I had help," Morgana calmly informed me, while sipping at her coffee. "I'd never set up an ambush on that scale before. And you know this one was far from being simple."

* * * *

Morgana watched with a small pang as the repatriated prisoners from Sylvan were met by family and friends who had thought them lost forever. Too many had been, including most of her own family, and if not for the presence of her sister, Maeve, she could barely have borne the joy she was witnessing.

As it was, that precious presence alleviated much of the still prickling grief for her. At that moment their mother was tightly hugging her redheaded daughter as if letting go would lose her again. For that, she thought to herself, for that alone, everything had been worth the cost.

Ivaine relinquished her hold on a daughter thought lost, but her surviving son, Niall took up the task, which was not at all unpleasant, he made clear.

"You brought her back to us," Ivaine gave Morgana a hug nearly as tight as she had used on Maeve. "And so many others thought dead. Welcome home a thousand times, daughter, and thank you."

"So many..." stopping herself in the face of her adoptive mother's joy, Morgana returned the hug and closed her eyes, hoping not to see the thousands of other faces, both Cheryii and Human, that would never again be seen by their own loved ones because of her actions. "Thank you, mother, it is good to be home."

"Lady Morgana," an officer, hesitant to interrupt the reunion, but clearly requiring her attention, diffidently approached the small group. "Forgive the interruption, but you are needed."

"Duty calls you, daughter," Ivaine smiled almost sadly while releasing the once Human changeling she had adopted into her own family. "Much as it always did with your father and husband. See to whatever it is, and come home. Your daughter has grown so much..."

"I'll get there as soon as possible, that is a promise, mother. I ache to hold little Maeve in my arms again, but as you say, duty..."

"It's the prisoners, Lady, the Humans." the officer began as she followed him away from her own family. "They want to speak with you, at least their senior officers do."

"Then speak with them I shall," Morgana responded tiredly. "While I do that, see to their comfortable disposition here, would you? Make sure that there are plenty of provisions for them and medical care for their wounded."

"Of course, Milady," with a bow, the officer -- who's name she couldn't recall just then, directed her to the hastily set up prison compound centered around some empty ship hangers. "Your escort is waiting at the gate. I will go get the things you have ordered started, with your permission?"

"Go," she nodded, then offered the fellow a weary smile. "With my thanks."

Nodding in acceptance, he rushed off in another direction as her own escort, hand picked by others, not herself, formed up like the bodyguard they actually were with respectful salutes and equally respectful silence.

"All right, let's get this over with," waving towards the compound, and frowning at the strands of cruelly barbed wire fencing that surrounded it, she added. "We all have family waiting for us, don't we? Let's see to our guest's needs, then get ourselves home."

* * * *

The waiting group of Humans was a pretty battered one, each of the four showing obvious wounds, or holding themselves in the ginger manner of one with recently broken bones and abused muscle. One of them straightened himself with visible effort and gave her a respectful salute that was copied by the others.

Returning the salute, she walked forward to face the haggard man with the captain's bars surmounting a star that designated a Fleet Grade Group Commander. "Group Captain, I am Morgana. What might I do for you here?"

"Captain Henri Muhammad, Lady," the man, approaching middle age but still quite obviously fit towered over her, but neither seemed much aware or concerned by that. "My compliments on a well conceived and carried out action."

"And mine on your staunch defense of McGary Point, Group Captain Muhammad, but I don't think you asked for me to exchange pleasantries, did you?"

"No, Lady, I did not." the strain of simply standing was clear in both his stiff posture and the carefully neutral expression on the man's even featured face.

"Then why don't you have a seat, and tell me what you require?"

"As you wish, milady," Muhammad carefully seated himself on an available crate with visible relief. "I was wondering about the disposition of my men, all of them, since I appear to be the senior surviving officer among them."

"That would be entirely up to you, and them," Morgana answered quietly, waving the other three to seats as well and making sure they were at least marginally comfortable before going on. "First, I'm getting medical supplies, and personnel in here as quickly as they can be brought. Those will be followed by food, blankets, and whatever else you might require, within reason, that is."

"I can be very reasonable when it concerns the care of my troops, Lady," Muhammed nodded. "Get their needs taken care of and you will have my gratitude in addition to the respect you already possess."

"Done," she responded with a smile as ground cars loaded with medical supplies and personnel began streaming through the gate. With a concerned look at the Human in front of her, she added. "Have yourself seen to, along with these others. We can do the introductions another time."

"Thank you, milady," Muhammad nodded while propelling himself off the crate and heading for the hanger that housed his wounded. "I'm sure I'll be seeing more of you, won't I?"

"That you will, sir," Morgana nodded with a slow smile. "As well as a visit from my own fleet commander, Lochnadd once things have settled down some for all of us."

"If that's the one who was giving commands during the battle," Muhammad grimaced, then shrugged. "I'll look forward to meeting him, or her."

"Him, Group Captain," Morgana supplied, then chuckled briefly. "He is, it seems, just as anxious to make your acquaintance as you are his."

"Until later, then, and again, my deepest thanks for this." the fleet officer began limping towards the hanger.

"Make sure you get yourself seen to, Captain," she called as he left. "I think you have some broken ribs there, among other things."

"I will, I will," the distracted response floated back.

"See to that," she ordered the remaining three Human officers before turning to leave herself, then added, "And to yourselves. We have no dearth of healers, or equipment here. Don't let yourselves, or your commander, die from lack of care, I beg you."

* * * *

She returned to the Chaddra'im estate much later than she would have liked, but there were matters besides the welfare and disposition of the Human prisoners needing seen to. The rescued folk from Sylvan and dispersed, all but a few forlorn appearing individuals who simply waited in the spaceport terminal building without real direction.

"All of you," Morgana informed them once apprised of the situation and gathering them into a group. "Are more than welcome to the hospitality of my house. This isn't charity, our numbers have been drastically thinned over the past few years and an influx of new blood would only benefit us, and yourselves. There is a place for each of you, should you wish to take it, a permanent place, or temporary, within my family and our holdings. I have arranged transport to the estate for any who wish to accept the offer."

"Our thanks, milady," A worn, but still strong looking male spoke for all of them, it seemed as nods of agreement accompanied his own short speech. "Our families were all on Sylvan, and most of us have no ties elsewhere. Your offer is accepted with deep appreciation."

"My apologies for making this such a short welcome into the Chaddra'im Family and interests, to all of you," she nodded with a weary smile. "My mother, brother, and sisters will welcome you, and find places for you to rest for the time being once you reach the estate. I will more than likely see at least some of you later, but... Duty again calls me and I won't be home until very late, I fear. Go with the Gods, and my heartfelt welcome goes to each one of you."

* * * *

The debriefing was mercifully short, mostly taken up with handing over memory spheres of the actions at McGary Point, along with brief commentaries by the officers of each separate section of The Irregulars.

"Overall, a well conceived and executed plan, milady," conceded the officer conducting the interview. "Your 'Irregulars' performed more than adequately against the enemy, though it could be said they had become more than a little complacent in both their isolation and perceived safety from attack. Nevertheless, it was a stunning victory. My congratulations to you and your people."

"There will be more of those, my lord general," Morgana quietly answered, holding in the retort that she felt more than justified in making at the fellow's almost condescending attitude.

"A heavy cruiser, three Nova Class Destroyers, seven Shrike Class Destroyers, an armed and armored station, and a heavily fortified moonlet," Lochnadd felt no such compunctions about holding his tongue, "Seems to be reason for complacency if you ask me."

"Peace Commander," the official nodded tiredly. "It was, but after what you people did, I rather doubt the NTF will be so again. You will have your chance, more than one, to show this action was not a fluke, I am certain. Victories like this have been few and far between for us since Sylvan. That will be all for now. Good evening to all of you, go to your families and take a well deserved rest."

* * * *

Those gathered at the main house on the estate were tired, but awake when she finally managed to arrive some few hours before dawn.

Little Maeve climbed from the arms of the aunt she had been named after to toddle forward, holding out her chubby arms to be picked up while crowing in delight at seeing her mother. Morgana scooped the child up and hugged her, then simply held the little one to soak in the fact that she was back among her family while telling her. "Ohh, you've grown inches since I last saw you, my little darling."

"She absolutely refused to sleep once she found you were back," Leilai informed her adoptive sister with a smile that came perilously close to indulgent.

"And of course," Morgana answered with a laugh, "you were unable to convince her otherwise."

"I wonder where she got that streak of stubbornness?" Ivaine questioned with a gleam of humor in her eyes while watching mother and daughter cuddling.

"I'm sure it couldn't possibly have been from me." Morgana responded almost innocently.

"Hah!" the elder Maeve snorted to the general amusement of the gathering. "You would never be accused of stubborn behavior, little sister. Outright intransigence, maybe, but never, ever something so simple as stubbornness!"

"Am I that bad, little Maeve?" asking the child in her arms, with a small grin, Morgana shook her head fondly on seeing the little one sleeping. "Well, probably safer that you aren't awake to answer, I'm sure your aunts and uncles have been telling you awful tales about me."

"Only that her mother is a very brave and great Lady," Lelai answered quite seriously. "She missed you, sister."

"I missed her, and all of you,"

"I for one, am glad for that intransigent streak you made so painful for all of us early on," Maeve told her sister with equal seriousness. "It got me home, along with quite a few others."

"It did at that," Morgana nodded, then changed the subject with a chuckle while carefully seating herself so as not to disturb the sleeping child in her arms. "Now to the really important things, give me the family gossip! And I mean immediately."

* * * *

"I wish to see Captain Muhammad," the Cheryii female, attended by a formidable looking group of bodyguards told the Human officer she found seated at a table serving as a desk just inside the doorway of the converted hanger housing the Human prisoners.

Lieutenant Jr. Grade Hamilton Stark recognized her immediately even without the battle armor she had been wearing the first time he had seen her in the echoing halls of McGary Station. "Of Course, umm is Lady the correct form of address for you?"

"I have been called much worse, Lieutenant... Stark isn't it?" she chuckled, then added, "and probably quite recently. But Lady will do if you insist."

"I'm pleased that you remember me, Lady," he answered with a grin of his own, and an inclination of head followed by a formal salute. "And impressed by the fact."

"No large feat, sir," Morgana smiled at him. "Since that red headed hellion among the Cheryii you were defending in that storage bay is my sister. I make it a point to recall things like that. You have my thanks for that."

"It was the only decent thing to do, Lady," Stark quietly answered, meaning it, then gestured towards the depths of the hanger. "I'll take you to see the Group Captain now, if you're ready?"

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Morgana nodded in confirmation.

"Might I ask a question, if you don't find it presumptuous?" he questioned while leading the entourage through the well organized temporary quarters.

"I can't tell whether it is or not, presumptuous," she answered with a tilt of her head, "until you ask the question, now can I?"

"All right, may I ask how she is? Your sister, I mean? The lady greatly impressed me on the station. Her strength and the way she shared it with everyone needing a bit of bolstering, especially in those last few hours."

"Being in one of the 'noble families' among our people has it's privileges, Lieutenant, but also it's duties. Leading, being an example to the people who look to us for guidance, is one of those duties and not always an easy one to shoulder." she replied with a quick flash in her lovely eyes that almost seemed haunted. "But to answer your question, she was handled rather roughly on the station, but is healing. Both emotionally and physically I am glad to say."

"Good." Stark nodded, then returned to leading the group through the maze of cots, tables, and improvised offices. "I am truly glad to hear that."

"I will tell her you asked,"

"Just give her my regards, Lady," the man almost mumbled, then stopped in front of a busy group of officers. "Here we are."

One, obviously the center of all the activity raised his head with its iron gray crew cut and scowled at the interruption, then softened his expression when he say who the visitor was.

"Lady Morgana."

"Captain Muhammed," she answered with a nod of her head then a quizzical glance at the gathered officers. "Planning an escape?"

"Hardly," the captain shrugged. "The first major problem with that is where the hell would we go even if we did manage to break out? I think you can figure out some of the other difficulties, milady."

"Good point, Captain," she conceded with a small smile. "I hope the conditions you find you and your people in are not so onerous that escape seems the only viable option."

"Quite the contrary, milady," Muhammad answered with a genuine smile. "We have all been very well treated here. Thank you for the rapid medical assistance, and supplies. Truthfully, many of us here are actually eating better than we did aboard ship now. You have no idea how dull freeze dried and reconstituted meals can get."

"Oh, I think I have a pretty fair idea, sir," grinning, she gestured to a pair of nearby chairs. "May I?"

"Of course, forgive me, please have a seat, milady."

"I have some news for you, about the disposition of all these people, and the choices available to you through our agency." Morgana told him without preamble.

"I did not realize we would be given choices here," Muhammad answered quietly. "I'm listening."

"We're going to need this hanger," she shrugged, then smiled at his stricken expression, "No, we aren't going to disperse you through our system, Captain. Those of you who wish it will be repatriated to Human worlds not controlled by the NTF. From there you can make your own choices as to where you will go."

"Repatriated?" Muhammad mused, clearly surprised, then gave her a long, searching look. "That is unexpected, though probably welcome for many of us. But I gather there is another option you haven't mentioned yet? You did mention choices, after all."

"There is, though it may not be one you find palatable."

"I'm listening, milady."

"Those of you who wish to see the NTF, and those who presently rule Humanity, replaced by a less draconian government would be welcome to remain here, with us. I have, as you know, formed a rather unique fighting force here, and would welcome any Human recruits wishing to join me. It is important that I be able to show the Powers That Be both here, and among other Human worlds, that Cheryii and Human can not only co-exist, but work together in some kind of harmony. Integrating Humans into my Irregulars would be a way to begin that, sir."

"That," sitting back and watching the delicate looking female who had at least helped in engineering his own defeat at McGary Point, Muhammad slowly replied. "Will take some hard thought, milady. Any of us who did so would be branded traitors to our own race, in addition to abandoning everything we have been trained to serve all our lives."

"I know, and it is a terrible thing to ask of anyone," Morgana sighed in her turn but continued regarding him levelly. "But answer this. Would you be betraying your people more by doing what I have just outlined, or by rejoining a regime that has ground them down for centuries and is presently heading them for eventual destruction? I can tell you that there are older, more powerful races in this galaxy, and some of those are carefully watching this conflict already. We have so far held off their intervention, but should we be defeated in this war..."

"I see, and suspected much the same thing," Muhammed answered. "There have been sightings of unidentified ships observing ours, and some of the battles we have fought with you. That is not general knowledge, even among the officer corps, but I know it is a fact. I've seen some of those ships myself."

"As I have, Captain, and I fear for Humanity if some of those choose to involve themselves as more than simple observers."

"Why?" Muhammad questioned bluntly. "Why do you fear for us? After losing almost your entire family to our attack on the world you name Sylvan, how can you find it in you to care about anything but our destruction?"

"Two reasons, sir," she quietly replied, giving him a searching look, then deciding there was no bitterness in him, just curiosity. "First, there is much good in Humanity, the race has a lot to offer the galactic community, if given the chance to be something besides would be conquerors."

"The second?"

"The second is something quite personal to me, Captain, but far more compelling a reason than you might believe even after hearing what it is. Which I'm certain you will eventually. For now, I won't stretch your credibility with a further explanation. Just believe me when I tell you that it would grieve me a great deal to see Humanity cease to exist as a coherent, free species."

"All right, I can honor that, milady," Muhammed thoughtfully replied while holding his direct gaze on her. "As for that second choice you've offered, I'll give it some thought, if that is all right. Something like this isn't to be lightly accepted or rejected."

"That is all I can ask, Captain Muhammed," rising, she inclined her head to the man and finished. Just let any of the guards here know you wish to speak with me, and I will come, or have you escorted to where I am, if you prefer that. Thank you for listening to me, sir."

"Thank you for coming, milady," his response was muted, and he carefully watched her progress to the hanger door, then continued staring at the space she had passed through for several minutes after that.

* * * *

The Cybele Range was a treacherous, starless void filled with closely packed Nebulae, chunks of ice, mineral rich asteroids, and other debris that made navigation through the area an exercise in crawling caution. Unless you possessed accurate, updated charts of the region. Which the NTF did not, but the Cheryii did. Intelligence had so far failed to obtain any of those charts, and the advancing battle group had yet to capture a Cheryii miner with intact data.

Admiral Evan Torres watched the tactical display as the enemy capitol ships pulled back from the latest skirmish with his encroaching forces. "Got you!"

Each of the Cheryii battle wagons were trailing debris and were obviously limping as they withdrew from the fight. Each skirmish as the NTF battle group inched its way more deeply into the area had cost both sides, but the Cheryii had lost more.

"Launch fighters to trail those ships," Torres ordered, then followed that with, "Nav, plot a course to follow them in. They're running this time, and I think they're heading for the jump point hidden in this hell hole. We have them, at last."

The Armageddon class battle wagon, Corinthia, performed a leisurely turn, pointing her nose towards the gap between two Nebulae that the enemy was limping towards, and her two sister ships, with their swarm of Cruisers and destroyers forming a protective screen, followed.

* * * *

"Gods!" Lochnadd swore as he watched the graceful, deadly arc of the Human fleet turning towards them. "How many damned ships did they bring in here?"

"An entire fleet," Morgana answered as she watched the tactical display in near awe. "Three Armageddon Class dreadnaughts, with all their support vessels. They've lost over half of those latter, and the Armageddons have taken damage."

"But they're still mostly intact," Lochnadd put in, shaking his head ruefully. "The wonder here is that our own Caer Class battle wagons have stood up to them for this long. I hope they head where we want them to, milady."

"So do I," Morgana answered quietly. "If they get that jump point from us..."

"The heart of our territory is going to be open to them," Lochnadd finished for her. "Well, we've prepared as best we can. Our forces are where they're supposed to be, so all we can do is wait now."

* * * *

A damned rock pusher was not made for battle, Sabh knew that and so did his crew. All they could do was shove the asteroid into the gap, hopefully into the path of the advancing Human ships, then run like hell deeper into the nebula they were hiding in with twenty other pushers and two of the still operating Caer Class Battle ships left to the sorely depleted Cheryii defensive force.

"Sure hope that crazy woman knows what she's doing," he muttered while awaiting the signal to begin.

* * * *

"Steady..." Torres commanded, still watching the tactical display carefully. "Scan! What have we got ahead of us?"

"Three Caer Class ships and smaller vessels screening their retreat, damaged and running for all they're worth, sir," The scan chief reported. "Got a few fuzzy signatures from the nebulae, miners from the look of it, hiding out and ready to run. Not much else. Hard to get good readings out here, Admiral."

"It'll have to do, then," Torres nodded. "We've finally got them on the run, if we don't take advantage of this it could be another two years of dodging these damned rocks trying to find the bastards. Set up a fighter and destroyer screen to probe that gap before we commit ourselves too deeply, though. It's a prime ambush spot."

* * * *

"We have six Novas moving forward, and a swarm of deep space fighters with them," The report from scan came to the pair watching the progress of the Human ships.

"Probing the gap," Lochnadd nodded. "Still being cautious, but that commander wants to believe he has us beaten. Now if we can just keep him thinking that way for a while longer."

* * * *

"Green Leader, command, ", crackled over the comm as Torres watched his destroyers and fighters begin maneuvering and firing at the enemy ships. "Engaging the covering screen."

"Move in at quarter speed, Helm," the admiral ordered. "Scan, watch those nebulae closely. I want to hear it if anything moves in either one of them, got that?"

"Aye, sir," the scan chief acknowledged. "Still no activity showing."

* * * *

"He's forming the line," Lochnadd nodded as the Human ships began to form up with the smaller vessels to either side with the cruisers and battle wagons in the center of a large cylindrical formation. "I think he's taken the bait, milady."

"Defensive screen is withdrawing in good order," Scan reported as the smaller Cheryii ships alternately engaged the probing force and pulled further into the gap, giving a good show of buying time for the damaged Capitol ships they were supposed to be protecting to retreat safely.

"Looks like it," Morgana agreed.

"Come on, come on," Frostfire's captain coaxed the enemy commander. "Just a bit farther in..."

The Human formation moved carefully, but forward, until it was entirely in the gap.

"Just a little longer," Morgana quietly ordered. "I want their rear bracketed before we start this."

"Aye, milady," Lochnadd replied just as quietly, as if both thought the enemy might hear them talking. "On your command."

"Now, Lochnadd," she ordered as the forward units of the advancing force began emerging from the gap.

"Power up, children," Lochnadd ordered, then turned to the Hyper Link operator. "Give the signal."

"Hell's invited itself to breakfast," Morgana told the bridge crew of Frostfire. "Let's do our best to make it feel at home, shall we?"

* * * *

Sabh heard the strange, but distinctive beep from the newly installed HL receiver on his bridge, drew in a breath, and gave the order. "Full power to mains, let's push this damned rock into the gap, then run like hell."

Twenty other mining vessels were doing the same thing as he passed that order to his crew, and the big warships were powering up as well. Checking the vectors against the information he had, which was sketchy thanks to interference from the nebula, Sabh added as almost an after thought. "If anyone wants to pray, start now. We can use all the help we can get here."

The rock's mass resisted the push at first, then slowly began converting inertia into velocity as his small ship continued to burn fuel at a frightening rate. He could see a few other bright pinpoints of light in the cloud that told him other miners were doing the same thing.

His ship groaned in complaint as it pushed the rock to a higher velocity than the design specs allowed with any safety, and Sabh nervously watched the velocity indicator on his screen. "Turn it loose. Come about and give me a path out of here, nav!"

The pusher performed a wide turn and sped deeper into the nebula, the rock continued its still accelerating progress towards the gap.

* * * *

"Got activity in both nebulae, sir!" Scan reported to Torres. "I have twenty one signatures to port, twenty two to starboard. Miners at high gee."

"What are they doing, scan?"

"Turning, sir, running deeper into the nebulae." the scan chief reported, then swore. "Got objects inbound, sir, rocks from the look of it."

"Don't miss a trick, do they?" Torres responded, then ordered. "Weapons! Target those rocks and get rid of them."

"No go, sir," the weapons chief responded. "Trajectories would hit our own ships."

"Damn!" Torres watched his lighter, support ships moving to get out of the way, so the heavier weapons of the three Armageddons could come to bear on the advancing rocks without hindrance. "Move, damn you! Move!"

* * * *

"I read impacts on the enemy screen," Scan informed them. "Five so far, no seven, the covering screen is holding, but thinned. "Twelve impacts!"

"Let's get the forward elements, Lochnadd," Morgana ordered while grimly watching ships die under the onslaught of the high nickel content rocks thrown at them. "Have the flanking attacks begin. Let's hurt them now, while we have the chance."

"Aye, milady," the captain responded, already keying in the commands. "Hit them fast, hard, and pull out, all, we do not want to find ourselves inside that formation."

* * * *

"Energy signatures from ahead," Scan passed forward the images. "Looks like Banshees forming up on our lead elements, sir."

"Novas can handle Banshees," Torres responded, still shaken by the damage inflicted on his command by the rocks. "Get me a status report on the situation."

"Got reports coming in, sir" Comm reported. "Cygnis, Seti, Charybdys, Styx, and Halcyon are gone on the starboard flank. Algora, Wolf, Juno, Mercury, Alphonse, Regis, Rex, and Ceasar are not reporting from the port. Lao Tsu reports heavy damage from impact to her mains."

"We still have three intact Armageddons, and another thirty smaller ships," Torres nodded, appalled at the losses from the improvised attack on his flanks. "Let's show these Cheryii bastards why this class is named that way."

"I have energy signatures from four, make that five Caer class battle wagons inbound from the nebulae, sir!" Scan almost shouted. "They're moving into the gaps in our line. The other three have turned and are approaching our forward positions."

"Still have them outgunned, people," Torres answered calmly. "Target the flankers, weapons."

* * * *

"Missiles off!" weapons reported.

"Get us out of here, helm," Lochnadd ordered as the swarm of deadly Dhrow missiles pulsed into a significant fraction of light speed once they had acquired targets.

"Ghosts in position, milady," comm told Morgana.

"Send them in." she answered. "Time to give those Caers inside their formation a little support."

* * * *

"Good God," Torres watched the swarm of missiles approaching the forward elements of his formation. "How many missiles can those damned things get off?"

"It's a new type, sir," Scan informed him. "Energy signatures are different from what we have in the data banks of Banshees. These are a little bigger, and show an ungodly power graph for a small ship."

"New or not," Torres answered, "They still aren't a match for the Novas and know it. They've fired their salvos and are running now."

"Hermes and her battle group is engaging the Caers on our starboard flank," Comm reported.

"A heavy Cruiser and six destroyers," Torres shook his head. "They sure knew how to take advantage of the situation, didn't they? Have Resplendent move to support them."

One of the Armageddons began to slowly turn to face the three Cheryii battle ships threatening one flank as the remaining pair continued their forward progress.

"Send Wrath to support the other flank," Torres ordered. "But keep moving forward. We can't stop now."

* * * *

"The Armageddons have split up," Lochnadd nodded while watching the monstrous ships take new positions in the formation. "Spreading out their firepower to support the flanks."

"Ghosts are starting their attack runs," comm told them. "Still cloaked."

"Good luck people," the captain wished them, then turned to issue another command. "Come about! Let's start our second run, maybe some of our shots will get through that forward screen this time. There's a lot less of them to contend with now."

* * * *

"Banshees are turning back towards us, admiral,"

"Acknowledged, scan," Torres nodded, bringing up the images on his own screen. "They managed to inflict more losses than I'd expected with that first run. Send Concord up to support."

"Aye, sir," At the command, the heavy cruiser moved out of the formation to join the forward screen.

* * * *

"There's our target, people," Captain Cobhan of Shadow Dancer indicated the heavy cruiser moving forward without any screening destroyers. "Take her down."

Ten Ghosts decloaked long enough to get a fix on their target, fired their salvos of Dhrow missiles, then recloaked once the shots were off. Cobhan gave a sharp nod once that was done. "All right now. Let's go give those Novas up front something to worry about."

* * * *

"Where the Hell did those come from?" Torres stared in shock at his tactical display as ten blips, red for the opposing force, blinked into sudden existence and fired missiles at Concord then just as rapidly dropped from scan. "Get me a handle on those little bastards, scan! Weapons, bracket the space around Concord now!"

* * * *

"Got impacts on the cruiser that was moving forward," tactical reported. "I make it five, no six positive impacts. Cruiser is breaking up."

"Good job, Cobhan," Morgana grinned savagely. "Now get your butts out of there."

A ravening hell of particle beams tore through the expanding debris of the cruiser just as she said that, and she prayed silently for both sides.

* * * *

"Concord is gone, admiral." scan reported, "Still nothing showing on the ships that got her. I read no debris that isn't from the cruiser."

"Damn, they have to be cloaked in some way," Torres nodded. "Send that information to the others out here. Those things are small enough that one good hit on them ought to put them out of the fight. If we can target the little sods."

"The three Caers forward are moving into attack range, sir."

"Well, we were never promised a walk in the park here, were we?" Torres grinned. "Captain, move us forward to intercept them."

* * * *

Cobhan shuddered at just how close his squadron had come to annihilation moments earlier, then nodded to his first officer. "That behemoth is moving forward. Let's hit the rear of their forward elements and get the Hell out of her way."

* * * *

"They're on scan again, sir!"

"Target them now, get me a solution on any possible escape vectors they might use and lay fire into those."

"Aye sir,"

"Do your worst, you little bastards," Torres breathed as the data poured into his screen. "This time you won't get out scott free."

"They've hit the destroyer screen, admiral,"

"Hit them back, weapons," was his only response.

* * * *

"The Armageddon has weapons lock on us, Captain!"

"Bound to happen, all," Cobhan shrugged. "Fire missiles and run straight through their forward screen. "Maybe we can get him to take out some of his own while he's trying to get us."

"Missiles away!"

"Cloak and run." he shouted as threat alarms began wailing and the small ship shook under too many near misses to count.

* * * *

"Still forcing their way through," Lochnadd shook his head. "Much more and we won't be able to stop them, milady."

"I know," Morgana grimly watched the battle unfold on the tactical screen. The Caer class ships engaged with the Armageddon on the right were taking horrendous damage, though returning it in kind. Those on the left were managing a little better, barely. "We have to take at least one of those monsters out of the action and soon. Suggestions?"

"Plow through their screen, dance around a lot, and shoot at anything that moves and isn't ours," Lochnadd answered unhappily. "That's about the only option I can see at this point with any chance at all."

"Agreed, my friend," Morgana let out a long sigh. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this. Have Wulf, Sidhe, and Lancer move up to engage the other Armageddon, and let's get moving."

"All right," Lochnadd gave the necessary orders, then commented, "Hang on tight all. This is going to be one hell of a ride."

* * * *

"The three forward Caers are moving on intercept vectors with us," scan announced, still searching for debris that would tell them they had managed to hit the elusive little ships that had managed to take out a heavy cruiser. "No telltale debris showing on... wait, I have vapor and debris consistent with the mass of whatever those things are ahead of us."

"Got one, then," Torres nodded in satisfaction. "We can't worry about the others now, Captain, let's give those three big ones the fight they seem to want now."

"Banshees moving forward, too, sir."

"Of course they are, if they don't stop us now, they aren't going to," Torres nodded.

"Resplendent reporting hits to her mains, admiral. She's losing power and atmosphere. Two of the Caers she was engaged with have heavy damage as well, one of those seems to be out of the fight. She's trailing debris and going into a spin."

"Tell Resplendent to fight her way out of here, if she can," Torres blew out a breath then finished, "and send a 'Well Done' to her captain and crew. Captain, the con is yours. Get us into this fracas."

* * * *

"Target the remaining Heavies, and Novas, all," Lochnadd ordered. "We don't have the firepower to punch through the Armageddon's shields. Let our big boys worry about that."

"The one on the right seems to be pulling out of the fight," Morgana pointed to the tactical display. "Taken a lot of damage."

"So have ours, milady," Lochnadd commented dryly. "That big bastard coming at us is what worries me now. Hope the three we have on her are up to the job."

"So do I," was her response. "Gods, so do I."

"Right you are on that, milady. All units, this is Group Command," Lochnadd spoke into his comm link. "It's dogfight time, chose your targets, and good luck to all of you."

A sudden flash caused the screens to go dark for a moment and Frostfire's deck shook moments later as a shock wave hit her.

"Armageddon on the left is gone!" scan shouted. "I repeat, the Armageddon on the left is destroyed."

"Maybe the Gods are with us after all, this time," Lochnadd watched the display. "We actually got one of the big bastards."

"It cost us three Caers to do it," Morgana watched the screen for any sign of movement from the three ships she'd mentioned. "They're all dead, Lochnadd."

"But two of those monsters are out of the fight now," he pointed out in turn. "We still have four fully intact Caers to tangle with the last one, and two more that can still fight."

"Gods love them," Morgana watched the three Cheryii warships begin to break up. "And watch over the survivors."

* * * *

"That was Wrath's Mains blowing, sir," The scan chief reported quietly. "She's gone, but it looks like the three Caers she was fighting are, too."

"Order Resplendent to come about, then," Torres replied with a heaviness to his voice that held grief and regret. "We need her remaining firepower up here."

"She's moving back already, sir,"

"All right, things start getting really nasty now, people," speaking quietly, he sent out to his remaining ships, "This is Admiral Evan Torres. It's now, or not at all people. It has been my distinct honor to have all of you under my command. Good luck and let's take that jump point away from the Cheryii."

* * * *

"Damage control says repairs have been made," comm told Cobhan then grimaced. "Or at least as well as we can get without a shipyard doing it."

"Understood, give them my compliments, comm." Shadow Dancer's captain then returned his attention to the tactical board. "Damn! That other giant is coming back into the fight. How many of the squadron are in any shape for combat?"

"All but Wraith, captain," came the answer. "She's not answering to comm and seems to be without power at all. We lost Stalker in that last barrage."

"Eight of us, then," Cobhan tapped the display thoughtfully. "That big bastard is slow, even slower now, get me a reading on her power curves, scan."

"Marginal, captain," came the answer. "Shields down to about ten percent of what they were, and I show a massive leakage from her mains. She's hurt badly, but still too much for us to handle."

"Well, there's no one else close enough to do anything," Cobhan let out a sigh. "So I guess we do our best to annoy them until some help gets here. Let's do it."

* * * *

Captain Stephen Gallagher of Resplendent read the damage control data scrolling across his screen with an internal sigh. Red lights were still flashing and available power, coming from overworked secondaries was more of a maybe, than actual fact.

"Find me some targets we can handle, scan," he ordered, still trying to match the dreadfully scant power available to the ship's needs. "Maybe we can draw some of the heat off Corinthia and the admiral, at least."

"Got bogies inbound, captain!" scan reported. "I read eight of them, small, unknown type, and they have us targeted."

"Those have to be the ones that took out Concord," Gallagher shook his head in halfway amused respect. "They're long on guts, aren't they?"

"Missiles inbound!" Scan shouted.

"Chaff!" Gallagher ordered then noticed a flashing red light under the readout for the doors of docking bay ten. "Full power to port shields. Now!"

* * * *

"Cobhan is attacking the other Armageddon!" Lochnadd swore in wonder as the blips for their eight remaining ghosts began dancing around the immense ship. "Gnats on her back, I'm afraid..."

"They got a shot through her shields!" scan almost screamed in amazement, "And into an open docking bay door!"

"Gods love 'em," Lochnadd watched as a large piece of the second Armageddon broke loose and the power curves showing under the warship's icon dropped to almost nothing. "He actually got the son-of-a-bitch!"

* * * *

"I'll be damned!" Cobhan crowed in disbelief as a huge chunk of armored hull detached itself from the Armageddon to spin away. "Never in a thousand, thousand years does something as absurd as that ever happen. We hit an open docking bay door!"

"Secondary explosions coming from inside the Armageddon, captain," scan reported in equal disbelief. "and I read a surge from their Mains, a big one."

"Get us out of here!" Cobhan shouted. "That bitch is going to blow and if she does with us this close, we're gone, too!"

Acceleration compensators or not, Cobhan ever after swore that he felt the G forces of his ship's sudden, desperate run to clear the potential blast area.

* * * *

"Resplendent is gone, admiral," scan told him in subdued tones. "Those little suckers must have gotten a shot into a hull breach or an open bay door."

"Damn," Torres watched the rapidly deteriorating situation for his own ships, and the approach of six Caer class ships intersecting Corinthia's present course. "Reform and withdraw. We've taken all the losses we can afford to. Get hold of their commander and then pass it to me."

* * * *

"They're pulling back, milady," Lochnadd reported, still in more than a little awe of what Cobhan had managed to pull off. "and their commander is requesting communication with ours."

"Put it on my screen, Lochnadd," with a tired grin, she keyed in her own comm.

* * * *

"I have their commander, Admiral," a comm tech told him. "Coming to your screen now."

The delicate featured beauty of the Cheryii never ceased to amaze Torres, especially coupled with the knowledge that the members of that race were fighters every bit the equal of the best Humanity had to offer. This one was no exception, with finely shaped oval face and wide set eyes staring at him through the screen, a further examination showed him the swell of a feminine breast under the uniform and he bowed to the image on the screen.

"My compliments, Lady. Admiral Evan Sigmund Torres here. I have ordered my ships to withdraw. Could we establish a truce long enough for us to pick up our survivors?"

"Morgana Iey Silvanus A Chadra'im here Admiral," the beauty on his screen replied quietly.

Granted, Admiral Torres, and my own compliments to you on a well fought engagement."

"Not well enough fought, Lady," was his answer. "The day is yours, I'm sorry to say."

"I regret your losses, Admiral," the female calling herself Morgana actually appeared to mean that. "Do you require assistance?"

"No, Lady, but thank you for the offer. Just keep your ships from firing on us until we've finished the pickups, is all I ask."

"As you wish, Admiral," she responded then showed a wicked little grin. "I trust that you can find your way back out of the Reach?"

"I believe so, Lady," Torres answered with a mirthless grin of his own. "Getting into it has been the problem here. My compliments again, Torres out."

TO BE CONTINUED

  

  

  

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