Beyond the Expanse: The Masters, #3

By Jeremy Reimer

As the Masters prepare for their final assault on the galaxy, the pilots and crew of the United Nations space carrier Pegasus must scramble to find new allies anywhere they can.

In the mean time, the inhabitants of Earth, still trapped under the Masters' technology-dampening field, desperately try to keep society and civilization from collapsing into chaos.

This is the final book in the Masters Trilogy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeremy Reimer
• Release date: Sep 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310250125

Jeremy Reimer

I was born in Vancouver, British Columbia on March 16, 1972, to Louis Elton Reimer and Gail Patricia (Edmondson) Reimer. Our family moved to Winlaw (close to Nelson) in the interior of BC when I was just one year old, and then again to the small town of Gibsons, BC when I was three. I grew up in Gibsons and went to elementary school there, but when it came time to go to high school I went back to Vancouver to attend Eric Hamber Secondary. Thanks to the Challenge Program I was able to finish in just four years instead of five, and started my B.Sc at the University of British Columbia when I was just 16 years old. Some detours and interesting side-adventures later, I graduated with a B.Sc in Physics from UBC, and then got my Bachelor's of Education from UBC a year later. I taught at Kester Grant College (a private ESL high school) and then Saint George's Secondary for a year, then decided teaching wasn't for me and went on to other prospects. Currently I work at a software development company in Vancouver as a software developer and technical writer. Marital status Married since 2001 to my wonderful soul mate Jennifer. Quite simply the most amazing woman in the world. She is intelligent, gorgeous, caring, funny, and just all-around amazing. Kids None. Pets A beautiful tortoiseshell cat named Zoe. Education Bachelor of Science, Physics, University of British Columbia (1996) Bachelor of Education, Secondary (Physics), University of British Columbia (1997) Certificate of 2D and 3D animation, Vancouver Training Institute (1999) Diploma of Technical Writing, British Columbia Institute of Technology (2007) Project Management Professional, Project Management Institute (2010) Vital stats Age: 40 Height: 6 feet Weight: 172 lbs (more muscle than a couple of years ago!) Teeth: Still got 'em Current computers owned 2x2.0GHz Intel Core 2 Duo MacBook runningOS X 10.5 (CYLON_RAIDER) 2x1.8GHz Intel Core 2 Duo running Windows XP (ADAMA) 4x2.8GHz Intel Quad Core running Windows 7 (TELEVISION) 1.8GHz Pentium 4 running Ubuntu Server Linux (ZOE) 733Mhz Pentium /// running Xubuntu Linux 7.0 (GALACTICA) - flown into the sun... 800Mhz G3 AmigaOne running OS 4 (JEREMY) (Sadly R.I.P. ) 500MHz G3 Macintosh iBook running OS X 10.3 133MHz Pentium running DOS 6.0 and Windows 3.1 25MHz 68040 Maci...

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PART ONE

CHAPTER TWO

The face of the enemy

Ranshid-Forn-War-Gthilnaw’s one hundred and forty-seven years as a Master had been largely shaped by his superiors.  He had experienced plenty of scorn, contempt, and indifference from the higher-ranking Masters who directed his life.

But this was new.  He had never experienced this feeling from them before.

He had never experienced fear.

Ranshid was being held inside a tiny, cylindrical interrogation room, not much larger than himself.  His three trunk-like arms were stretched behind his massive head, held in place by spheres of white energy.  His feet were similarly bound.  He wanted to scratch—no, it was more than that, he wanted to pick at his skin!—but he couldn’t.  Auuugh!  It was maddening.  But he had to concentrate on the task at hand.

Let me get this straight, the voice rang in his ear, "you claim to have found the Enemy we seek, after consulting with a human in the Matrix."

Yes, sir, Ranshid said, trying to hide the shaking in his voice.  The human didn’t want to reveal the information.  But I outsmarted it.

He heard the faint sound of laughter in the background.  That shouldn’t have been hard, even for you, the voice said.

No, sir.  But our Leadership was correct in thinking that the humans had some connection to the Enemy.

Excellent!  Ranshid could tell that his superior was pleased.  Now if you can just tell us what that connection is, then we can destroy the rest of the humans and leave their miserable world forever.

We can’t do that, sir.  Not yet.

WHAAAAT??!  Spikes of pain rang through Ranshid’s head.

It’s the Enemy, sir.  They are connected to the humans.  They can feel them, can sense them.  The humans are their thralls, and are under their protection.  If we destroy them now, the Enemy will strike at more of our systems.  Turn more of our suns into supernovas.

The voice suddenly got very quiet.  Tell us how you know of the supernova, Ranshid-Forn-War-Gthilnaw, it said softly.

Ranshid flinched, waiting for the electric shock.  It never came.  He realized that he had to choose his next words very, very carefully.

The human told me that the Enemy would do this to us.  I didn’t believe him at first, but he was very convincing.  Since then, I have heard only… rumors.

There was a mumbling sound, like many voices conferring at once.  It is not usual for us to reveal this information to someone of your rank, the voice said.  We would not wish to allow dangerous and subversive ideas to spread.  However, given your condition, you will be unable to tell any of the others.  The rumors about the supernova were true.  The Enemy has hit our Home System.

Ranshid gulped.  The Home System?  How was that possible?  What… what was the damage?

More murmuring.  The worldships in the system were undamaged, although they are now trapped with no possible way to enter hyperspace.  A small group of attack ships escaped the destruction of the sun and chased the Enemy bombers.  The Enemy hit them with an unknown weapon and it scattered them throughout the Home Cluster.  Only a few of them made it back to civilization.  The rest are scattered between the stars.

This was crazy.  The human had told him, back in the Matrix, that there was no Enemy.  Was he lying?  Were his superiors lying?  But why would they lie about such a horrible thing?  It made his head hurt, trying to unravel the motivations of his leaders.

A low growl rumbled in Ranshid’s throat, trying to escape.  That damned human.  He had tricked him!  Telling him there was no Enemy, when there obviously was!  That human had also come up with the plan to tell his superiors that the Enemy and the humans were interconnected.  Ranshid had thought it to be a good story, one that would satisfy his bosses and prevent them from punishing him even more.  But if there really was an Enemy, maybe the story was true after all?

One thing was for sure: he couldn’t tell his superiors that the human had tricked him.  He was in enough trouble as it was.

What… what are you going to do? he asked.  At least he didn’t have to make that decision.  It was far, far above his pay-grade.

Our course of action is clear, the voice said sharply.  The Enemy is our number one priority.  We will destroy them, and after they are completely removed from the universe, we will return here and pulverize all the human worlds into their component atoms.

Of course.  This is what the Masters did.  What they always did.

This Enemy, however, was far scarier than anything the Masters had ever faced.  And Ranshid didn’t know a single thing about them.

*   *   *

Captain Ilya Rostov grimaced as the buzzer went off inside the phototherapy booth.  He opened the door and stepped out of the small cylindrical chamber.  He was wearing only his underwear and protective goggles.  Ouch!  His feet were still sensitive.  Why couldn’t they have put this device in one of the zero-gravity sections on the ship?

He gingerly stepped over to the cabinet and reached for his clothes, catching a glimpse of himself in the dresser mirror.

There was a lot more grey in his beard than he remembered having.  His skin was tanned and wrinkled from the phototherapy.  He hadn’t had an outbreak of eczema for decades—the nanobot creams had always been enough to keep it at bay.

Things were different now, though.  The stress was starting to take its toll.

He grabbed his watch and slapped it on his wrist without thinking.  That hurt.  The readouts on the watch’s display weren’t going to make him feel any better.  More nanobots, more chemical injections.  Science had done amazing things, but the human body could only be pushed so far.  After a certain point, it started to push back.

Rostov sighed and put on the rest of his clothes, buttoning up his navy blue uniform right up to the collar.  He stood up straight, despite his aching bones and his cracking, crusting skin, and brushed off the gold braid on his shoulders.

His own personal woes didn’t matter that much compared to the needs of his ship and his people.  They needed him, and he was going to keep going until he literally fell apart.

He took the elevator up to the bridge.  Once it got past the docking ring on the habitation section, he was in zero gravity again.  The knot in his back muscles unclenched just a little bit.  His magnetic boots snapped him neatly on to the metal floor.

Captain on the bridge! announced the second officer, Commander Duke Henry.  Rostov nodded in Henry’s direction.

Anything to report, Commander?

The tall, well-built, African-American officer shook his head.  Nothing unusual, Captain.  The Pegasus continues to operate on silent running.  We are re-entering the gravitational envelope of the Milky Way.  Several stars on the edge of the western spiral arm will be within reach in less than a day.  We should select one and jump out for refueling.

Rostov eased himself into his chair.  Indeed, he said.  Lieutenant Yiang, please bring up the map.

Aye, Captain, the young Lieutenant replied.  She moved her slim fingers over the console.  The lights on the bridge dimmed, and in the center display a three-dimensional hologram of the galaxy appeared.

Show us the route we took to get to the Masters’ home cluster, Rostov said.

The map zoomed in and highlighted several stars, then joined them together with a solid green line.

Sol, then Epsilon Eridani, then Gamma Cephei, then HD-1690, then Cerberus.  Each jump longer than the last.  When we return, we should take a different route, just in case the Masters are following us.

Do you think they might be? Henry asked.

Our able communications officer should be able to tell us if they are, the Captain said, nodding at Lieutenant Josef Krant.

Krant turned around, smiling.  There’s nothing.  I can pick up those Masters’ ships from half a galaxy away.  They don’t even try to be stealthy.

Good, Rostov said.  If our deception with the Reaper bombers went according to plan, they wouldn’t be looking for us anyway, they’d be searching for… what was the name of the pretend race you and Andy came up with?"

Krant’s smile grew larger.  It was nice to see.  Rostov hadn’t seen anyone smile on the bridge in months.   We called them the Xachtanthi, the communications officer explained.  Andy designed a whole language for them, although we only used a tiny bit of for the fake radio chatter.

They sound like a dangerous bunch, Rostov mused.  I wouldn’t like to meet them in a dark alley.

That got a smattering of chuckles from the rest of the bridge crew.  Good.  Nice to see the tension around here dissipate a little bit.  It had to, if they were all going to keep their sanity.

So we just have to decide where to go.  HD 278942 seems like a nice choice.  The rich nebula there should make for some easy refueling.  It will take a lot longer to collect the hydrogen, but the stresses on the ship will be much less than diving into a Jovian planet’s atmosphere.  We can use the time to make some much needed repairs.

And after that? Henry asked.

After that, we’ll have to decide what to do.  Our mission to the Masters’ home world was a success, but it severely depleted our resources.  Rostov rubbed his chin.  We have to start thinking long-term.  We proved that we can hit the Masters and that we can hurt them.  But they hold thousands of worlds.  If we are planning to defeat them, we’ll need more than a single strike force.  We’re going to need more ships.  We’re going to need allies.

And where are we going to find them?

Rostov frowned.  It’s a good question.  It’s a big galaxy, but thanks to hyperspace it’s possible for us to reach every corner of it.  Yet despite countless visits by our deep space probes, we’ve only ever come across three other spacefaring civilizations: the Zruthy, the Ke’ea, and the Starfarers.  Both the Ke’ea and the Zruthy were in our own stellar neighbourhood.  Commander, have you ever heard of the Drake Equation?

Henry nodded.  I was always fascinated by it.  Frank Drake was one of my heroes.  Basically, he started with the 100 billion stars in the Milky Way and kept multiplying by fractions based on how many would have planets, how many planets would have life, and so on.

I always thought it was pretty forward-thinking for over four hundred years ago.

I know!  He didn’t have very good estimates for the fractions back then, but the basic idea is still the same today.  It’s the last value that’s still the hard one.  Henry’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper.  The expected lifespan of advanced civilizations, he said.

Mmmm.  Never did get that one down.  The big problem is that civilizations are so damned mutable.  The Zruthy aren’t even the original civilization that evolved on their homeworld.  They were the robotic servants built by the Chor-Atha.  Then you have the Starfarers…

They just transferred their biological minds into their starships, didn’t they? Henry asked.

"Sure.  That’s what they tell us.  Who knows what really happened?  In any case, it was millions of years ago.  But if they’re telling the truth, and given that we know the Zruthy have been around for a while, civilizations should last at least a million years, on average."

But that would mean, given all the other coefficients that we know…  Henry’s voice trailed off as he ran the numbers in his head.  No, there’s no way that could be right.  That would be at least thirty-five thousand civilizations in our galaxy alone!

"Indeed.  So where are they?"

Henry’s eyes opened wide.  You don’t think…

I do think.  I can’t escape this conclusion.

"But that’s… I mean how could they even… thirty-five thousand??"

Maybe not all at once.  Maybe it took them a long time to build up enough strength.  Maybe our little corner of the galaxy was all that was left for the Masters to wipe completely clean.

The bridge was completely silent.

So you all know how important our task is, Rostov raised his voice to address the room.  Don’t let them hear the fear in your voice.  "I know it feels like a lot of responsibility, but we aren’t going to face it alone.  We have the remaining Ke’ea, at least one Starfarer, and as many Zruthy as we can reactivate.  There may be other civilizations in the galaxy that have survived, perhaps gone into hiding.  If so, we’ll find them.  They’ll have reason to listen to us.  We’re the first damn civilization to go into Master space, and hurt them, and we got out alive."

The bridge erupted into applause and cheering.  A grin the size of a galaxy spread over Rostov’s face.

*   *   *

You are to tell me how your patient is doing! Commander Fortus bellowed at the small man in the white coat.  Why wouldn’t this human ever give him a straight answer?

Dr. Ghangas smiled.  I understand you are very concerned about the health of your friend.  I have good news for you, at last.  The incubation tanks have finally done their work.  Tolnaire is going to make it.

A chorus of angelic notes rippled through his internal circuitry.  I am to thank you, he said.

You can go see him, if you like.  Try not to get too upset by his physical condition.  He’s really going to be fine.

Fortus extended one of his claws and Dr. Ghangas shook it heartily.  Just a few minutes, okay? Ghangas said, extricating his hand from Fortus’ steel grip.  You’ll have plenty of time later on.  He needs his rest.

The Commander rolled across the room so fast that his cape billowed out behind him.

Tolnaire was lying in the middle of a pure white bed, wrapped up in a pink blanket.  His tiny frame was attached to dozens of plastic tubes.  His fur, which once covered his whole body, was now reduced to a few wispy patches around his head.

He opened a wrinkled eye at the robot’s approach.  Is that you, Fortus? he whispered.

It is to be me.

The Chor-Atha let out a long, plaintive sigh.  I am sorry that I look so horrible.  The Doctor has been really good to me.  He tells me that I am going to recover fully.  Tolnaire coughed, and a tiny blob of red spittle rolled down his cheek.  I hope he’s right.

Fortus leaned closer to his friend.  I am to be sure that he is right.  You are to tell me what happened to you.

Tolnaire laughed, but the laughter turned into coughing and he had to stop.  You’re still so commanding!  You haven’t lost your Zruthy love of the imperative infinitive form!

We are to have taken our language directly from your species, Fortus said softly.  It is to be hard for me to speak using other patterns.  You are to have been more flexible in your language usage.  I am to hardly hear you use the infinitive form any more!  I am to think it is because you are to have been spending more time with the humans.

Maybe.  I’ve certainly had to adjust my thinking on a lot of things.  Tolnaire wriggled in his blanket and managed to sit up slightly.  You know, I hated you for what the Zruthy did to my people.  I never thought I’d even be able to work with you, let alone become your best friend.

It is to be the Zruthy’s great shame that we were to have subjugated your race, to have kept you as our pets.  Many of us were to have thought we would one day pay dearly for such crimes.   They were to have been right.

But we Chor-Atha originally created you as slaves!  We paid for our foolishness as well.  At some point, the cycle of retribution has to end.  I’d like to think the ending began with us.

I was to have felt my core reactor grow cold when I thought you were to have died, Fortus said.

That’s sweet.  I guess I’m tougher than I look, huh?

That was certainly true.  Please, to tell me what happened out there.

Tolnaire’s eyes closed at the memory, and his face broke into a smile that cracked his lower lip.  It was glorious.  I felt so proud, to be the only Chor-Atha to have qualified to fly a Reaper bomber.  We jumped out at Cerberus, and from there it was a very long and boring trip out to the Masters’ globular cluster.  But we made it, and I remember firing my bomb on their sun.  Then we jumped out.  The Masters chased us and hit us with an endless stream of missiles.  My ship was hit and I was burned.  He strugged his tiny shoulders.  Then I woke up here, and the Doctor put me into the tank.

You were to have been very lucky.

Tolnaire nodded slowly.  Not all of the pilots were.  We lost a lot of them in the initial attack, and more when we were fleeing the Masters.  Dr. Ghangas won’t tell me how many.

I am to be aware of the fates of all two hundred and fifty-six of my Reaper bombers, Fortus said.  One hundred and seventy-two made it back to the Pegasus in various states of disrepair.

Tolnaire let out a soft moan.  That’s terrible… I had no idea it was that bad.

It is to be obvious that we are to be unable to repeat such a mission any time soon.  Was he saying too much?  Was Tolnaire in any condition to be hearing any of this?  The Doctor says I should let you rest.

Please, before you go, can you tell me about one pilot?  Lieutenant Sarah Admunsen.  She was my instructor.  She fought for me to be allowed training, even when the other pilots laughed at me.  She was… my friend.

To be confounded!   He was not wanting to lie to Tolnaire.  But to see him sitting over there, so pathetic and frail, it was to be cruel to tell him the truth.  Sarah was to be most likely dead, killed in a courageous sacrifice to save the rest of the Reaper fleet.  He ground his gears.

I know that sound, my friend, Tolnaire croaked.  You don’t want to tell me.  But please, I need to know.

Lieutenant Admunsen was not to have returned to the Pegasus.  However, there are to be no records of her ship’s destruction.  It is to be possible that she has survived.

Possible, but not likely.

Fortus said nothing.

Dr. Ghangas called out from the doorway.  It’s time for you to go, Commander.  My patient needs his rest.

I am to comply with your wishes, Doctor, Fortus said.  You are to let me know the moment it is to be safe for me to visit again.

Of course, Commander.  The Doctor bowed slightly as Fortus rolled past him.

*   *   *

The alarm sounded.  David waved his hand through the air to shut it off.  Ten minutes later it blared again.  He wasn’t going to give it the satisfaction.  Alarm, off! he shouted.  Nothing could make him get out of bed today.  He hadn’t gotten out of bed for six days straight.  Maybe he could try to set a Navy record.

The door buzzed.  David, are you in there? a concerned voice shouted.

Damn.  Guess he wasn’t going to set that record after all.  Give me a minute, he yelled back.  I’m not dressed.  Where was his shirt?  He turned around in his tiny quarters for a few moments.  Ah, there it was.  He grabbed it and pulled it over his head, then answered the door.

It was Lisse.  David, you haven’t been out of your room in days, she said.  People are starting to worry about you.  She looked at him more closely.  Also, your shirt is on backwards.

David shrugged.  "I don’t have any official duty.  None of the pilots are flying right now.  I don’t have to come out of my room.  And I don’t care about my shirt."

Do you mind if I come in?

Suit yourself.

Lisse walked past him and sat down on his unmade bed.  Why did she have to do that?  How was he supposed to concentrate with her sitting on his bed?  He stood there, his hands shaking slightly.

A lot of the pilots are feeling the same way you are, David, Lisse began.  It’s perfectly normal.  We lost a lot of good people.

You don’t understand, David said.  "Those other pilots aren’t dealing with the same things I am.  We lost Jack and Sarah because of me.  It was my fault."

Lisse’s eyes widened.  It wasn’t your fault!  I’ve read the after-action reports.  You weren’t to blame in any way!

"Oh, so you’ve read the reports.  Were you there?"

No, David.  Why don’t you tell me about it?  What happened?

He sighed.  She was the last person he wanted to talk to right now.  But didn’t he owe her an explanation?  For Jack’s sake, at least.

Okay, he said.  Sarah was running low on afterburner fuel and couldn’t accelerate as fast as the rest of the group.  She was falling behind, and the Masters were going to destroy her.  I started to go back, to help her…  He caught his breath.  He couldn’t break down sobbing.  Not in front of her.  He swallowed hard and continued.  Jack ordered me back.  He went instead, in my place, to try and save her.  But his ship was damaged!  I could see it, the starboard rear engine had a huge dent in it… anyway, his ship blew up and…  He couldn’t go on.

You were just obeying your orders.  You couldn’t know what was going to happen.

"But if I’d gone instead, I could have saved them both!"

You might not have.  And you might have died with them.

"No… look, you don’t get it!  His eyes were getting watery.  Jack was my best friend!  And before we left, I treated him like shit!"

Oh, Lisse said quietly.  I understand.

I was acting like some high-school kid, mad at him for stealing my girl, and… and you weren’t even my girl!

Lisse stood up and reached for his hands.  No, I wasn’t, she said.  But I knew you liked me.  I shouldn’t have gotten involved with Jack, knowing this.  It wasn’t professional.  It’s my fault that all of this happened.  She sniffed.  I’m sorry, David.

No, look…. Damn it all.  It’s not your fault!  You did nothing wrong!  He wanted to hug her.  Was that a good idea?  She looked like she was about to cry.

He compromised and held her hands tightly.  I feel like… like a part of me was just ripped off, you know? he whispered.  Like my arm or something.  I just sleep all the time, I barely eat… I don’t know what to do.

I know how you feel.  It’s like this great empty hole in me, eating me away from the inside.  I felt that way when Warren died, and it wasn’t until I started dating Jack that I began to feel better.  Now he’s gone.

David wiped his eyes.  I’m crying, he said.  This is stupid.  I’m behaving like a child.

It’s not stupid to have feelings.

No?

No.  Look, we’re going to get through this, somehow.  We can talk about it.  It’ll get better.  Did she really believe that, or was she just trying to convince herself?

Do you think so? he asked weakly.

She gave him a hug.  I really do.  She looked deeply into David’s eyes.  I might not be your girlfriend, but I’m your friend, and friends look out for each other.  If you ever need to talk, I’m here.  Now, I’m ordering you to get dressed properly and come with me to the canteen.  Okay?

David wasn’t able to suppress a giggle.  Oh, you’re ordering me?  You’re an officer now?

She snapped him a smart salute.  Might as well be.  Now are you coming, or not?

David returned the salute.  The giant knot in his chest unwrapped slightly.  Yes, sir!

*   *   *

K’Rorthak saw David and Lisse entering the mess hall out of the corner of his eye on the right side of his hammer-shaped head.  He turned his other eye towards his wife.

Look who just walked in! he whispered.

Ambassador Keila Elbethian turned around discreetely to check.  Oh, that’s good, she said.  I was getting worried about him.

He’s a damn good pilot.  Did I tell you he saved my life out there?

Only about half a dozen times, sweetie.  But I won’t mind if you tell it again.

K’Rorthak wiped his tiny mouth on his napkin.  I had the combat-assist AI off, of course.  Seemed to be helping.  But suddenly, out of nowhere, there were three of these drones on my tail!  I looped around and took one out, but then I flew right past the other two.  I tried to turn around, but they were coming straight from the sun, and I couldn’t see them!  Then out of nowhere the Lieutenant comes roaring past, lets off a short burst of plasma fire, and takes out both drones in a single volley!

Well, I should go over and give him a great big kiss for saving my hero fighter pilot!

K’Rorthak laughed.  It was so great to hear his wife joking again.  She had been extremely relieved when he returned safely from his mission, but it had taken her a while to get her sense of humor back.

So, my love, the blonde-haired Ambassador said in a low voice, I have to tell you something.

Oh?  K’Rorthak’s large eyelashes raised up.  What was she going to say?

I’m actually really glad that R’Talia made it back safely.

This was a surprise.  I thought you didn’t like her, he teased.

I may not be her biggest fan, she said, but she’s a strong leader, and the Ke’ea will need people like her in the upcoming fight against the Masters.  There are few enough Ke’ea surviving as it is.

K’Rorthak nodded slowly.  And you aren’t worried about her stealing me away anymore?

I was wrong to ever doubt your heart.  Or my own.  Oh, sweetie, will you ever forgive me?

There is nothing to forgive, little bird.  I’m just happy that I made it back to see you again.

She put her arm around his thin grey shoulders and rubbed his downy fur.  I think we’re stuck with each other, you and I.

He wrapped one of his wings around her and they nuzzled for a bit.

Do you remember the day we met, honey? she asked.

Of course.  It was such a beautiful day, and I took you flying.

Mmmm.  Your whole world was so beautiful.  It was so tragic, what the Deathspawn did.

K’Rorthak let out a deep breath.  It was.  There may still be beautiful days on Ke’ea even now, but we will not be able to walk upon its surface again for hundreds of years.  Maybe thousands.

I had this strange dream last night.  I saw thousands of Ke’ea landing on a brand new world, a terraformed planet, that became like the world I remembered.  I felt so peaceful and happy.  I haven’t felt that way in a long, long time.

Well, if we somehow manage to win this war against the Masters, maybe that dream could come true.

I hope so, sweetie.  I hope so.

Keila offered her husband some of her french fries and he let her have some of his garden salad.  They ate in silence for a few moments.

So, how is the conversion of the civilian fleet going?

Keila put her utensils down in disgust.  "Not well at all.  The Captain doesn’t want to negotiate on self-government.  He says that we basically need to conscript every person on every ship— the fuel tankers, the cruise liners, even the pleasure craft!  I keep trying to