Cot of the MacDiarmid Clan on Maridoileag by JA Bard

Chapter 1

Alliances and Favors

Newly promoted Lt. Colonel Colleen 'Cot' of Maridoileag came to a snappy turn with a quarter heel spin directly in front of Eimhir of Lothene, Dean of Facility and Provost for the Premier Officers Advanced Training Academy, POATA. Cot's eyes front and center, peripherally picked up Vice Academic Dean of Facility Holfer, hand Dean Eimhir the school's coveted medallion each graduate received. The dean neatly laid the medallion to rest just below Cot's throat. The dean's eyes tracked to the fourragère on her right shoulder then to the scores of medals that covered Cot's tunic, earned in her decade of military service. The dean looked up at Cot, giving her a slight nod of acknowledgement.

"May the space tides be your friend, Lt. Colonel Colleen from Maridoileag, Clan MacDiarmid."

"Thank you, Dean Eimhir."

Cot squared her shoulders, nodded back with a more pronounced bend of her neck, stepped back, neatly drew her saber, saluted the collection of flags in the corner, slipped the saber back into its sheathe, gave a sharp left quarter turn, and marched down the stairs without mishap.

Relief at finishing a grueling twelve months of communal living with too many different types of personalities and species was like dropping a heavy weight physically and mentally from her. Adapting to a symbiotic-type of relationship with a spacecraft was no where near as difficult as having to learn that fine distinction between personalities and biological predispositions to so many different species while working on disaster recoveries, diplomatic failures, engineered snafus, miss communicated intentions with military overtones, as well as planned and unplanned harassment thrown in to confuse issues.

Ducking through a side door, she exited near the outskirts of the graduation revelers and their guests. Passing through the first security gate to the ship hangers, she barely registered the now familiar buzz the scan gave her.

Her eyes took on a luminescent glow from the anticipation of what her squad guessed they would be doing. They dubbed it "remapping and rediscovering realities" with the newest equipment out of research laboratories to date. What else could they be doing with their sentient ships, equipment, and training?

As she entered the hanger she could feel her ship, Star Chaser's anticipation for departure. SMSgt Mack was standing next to Star studying a scanner. It would be so like Mack to give Star one last check up.

He looked up and grinned broadly at her. It was difficult not to return an equally wide smile. "Is that a new pip, Cot? Congratulations on your promotion," he said. His six eyes did an elaborate scan of her in her dress uniform. "I've never seen you in all your regalia. You look more impressive than most officers I've met. Bet you had a lot of jealous looks from the pack." Picking up on her embarrassment he went on, "I'm going to miss Star Chaser. She kept us all on our toes. No uppity mechanics tolerated around this sid-ship!" His thick pouty lips made a sucking noise that was a hearty laugh for his species.

Cot laughed along with him. It was an interesting year of tests for everyone. Star Chaser embraced POATA's culture of challenging stagnant practices with innovative alternatives. Besides meddling unabashedly in Cot's studies, Star Chaser taught the CF mechanics and engineers that the intelligence running the CFs knew their own potential and shortcomings better than the engineers, redesigning what could be done without shipyard involvement. The three that pushed their concept of a sentient ship, nicknamed SID, would be astonished how fast and far the partnership had progressed. SID was a combination of the three designers' initials, and reworked to Sentient Intelligent Design, by the ships themselves. The pilots referred to themselves as sid-pilots and their ships as sid-ships, as did the techs that worked on them.

Cot's squad of twelve veteran Muland pilots assigned to fly the sid-ships were singled out to create a new type of partnership between pilot and a sentient ship, and a civilian sentient at that. After a year of hard work, ships and pilots were sent to the esteemed training academy for another year to further hone the relationship…or to work out the kinks, their CO had said.

"You're the last to leave, Colonel."

"May you always have the right tool for the job, SMSgt Mack," she said. "From both of us, you did a commendable job."

"Thank you, Colonel."

Once up the ramp, she slapped the button to retract the ramp and seal all exits. "Cot on board, Star Chaser."

"Cot, on board," Star Chaser acknowledged.

Quickly she strode up the passageway and was stopped so abruptly by a security barrier she bounced back, enclosed in a soft energy envelope. When she did not fight the restraint it lessened so she could move her arms. Suspicious of the school's medallion, the only new thing on her, Cot dumped it into the security canister. An alarm light blinked.

"It's tagged," she said disgustedly.

Hers was distinctive since she had the only that won the blue flower wreath above the school's emblem, so there was no mistake at who the tag was meant for.

"Rescan me," Cot ordered.

The rescan was clean and the security envelope disengaged.

"And the games go on," she said.

"Knowing who is playing would increase our odds of getting in a significant hit for the next move," Star said.

"It would. Personal or political, it deserves a reply," Cot said, then added on a mental level they shared. "Destroy the tag, Star. Don't dump it. It might be a regenerator model."

At the beginning of their partnership Star kept everything that intrigued her. Cot had no doubt Star would do as she had ordered and destroy the tag, but the question was when. Rach, Cot's mentor for this integration program, had explained to her she was the cautious partner and Star Chaser was the daring one. He assured her that because of this, they would make a good team. Cot had her misgivings then and still did.

Aloud she continued, "I have the conn, Star Chaser."

"Cot has the conn," Star replied.

"Prepare for flight, Star."

"Ship shape and ready for flight," Star responded immediately.

Cot thought of the changes that she had been undergoing for the last two years of moving from using deadly force when necessary to not including it in her combat plans. If it occurred, it did, but not because she had it in mind. Was she still competitive? It brought a familiar feeling of anticipation for a hunt - speeding through space, looking for a specific particle in the vastness of space - but she lacked the familiar anger that kept her tirelessly focused on the target. Had she lost her edge? Cot did not believe so. Her focus was not single minded, and she did not feel exhausted on all levels when the hunt was completed.

They would be out in space without backup, making her instincts and experience primary tools for survival…and her ship. That brought a grin. Star Chaser did not hold much value to instincts and to counterbalance her pilot's experience with her inexperience, Star Chaser gathered and stored large amounts of information. The thought of leaving Star Chaser out of the survival equation was not possible. Besides amassing large stores of information, Star could perform many tasks at once without needing rest, an advantage Star was not diffident about bringing up.

I feel sorry for whoever planted the tag on us. Star can be very creative in delivering embarrassing paybacks.

Her cloak and saber were dropped on the seldom-used astrogator's seat, or to her way of thinking, a visitor's seat. Later she would change into her flight uniform after they were out of E-mass Settlements space.

"Communication on. Broadcast to tower," she commanded crisply. "Lt. Col Cot in Star Chaser to tower, requesting a track out and clear to lift off."

"Request received by Tower, Lt. Colonel Cot piloting Star Chaser," was the automated reply. "You are number twenty-four in line."

"It's not surprising that air traffic is busy with graduates not wanting to celebrate on campus. They'll be grabbing whatever ride they can off station," Cot remarked to Star Chaser.

Once seated in her custom made chair a thin translucent tube extended to her then arched up and unfurled in a thin sheet, morphing into a screen. It came active with a check list for her to verify all systems tested "good for go."

Finished with her part in pre-flight preparation, Cot took the time to look around her bridge, pleased with the changes she made while learning hands-on ship repair. The original design plan was military orientated, designed for functionality and not much in mind for comfort. It was to carry four crewmembers for long periods of time without servicing stops if necessary; however, when the CF was morphed into a sentient ship with one pilot, no one thought to change the interior - until she was assigned to the ship.

The bridge was made roomier by removing two of the four permanent seats. They were like most unused furniture in ships, recessed into the bulkhead until needed. The bridge interior could mirror space by activating the transparent cover, giving her a sense that she was flying through space in a see-through bubble. Cot never had this much space around her since she left her planet, Maridoileag. Nebulas, forests, and city scenes were realistically depicted on the ship's interior hull, programmable by her or Star.

"Your bio readings indicate you are low in the proper nutrients to operate at an acceptable level," Star informed her.

"These last few days of preparations I missed a meal or two and sleep," she admitted. "But I don't feel tired; probably later when the excitement of being on our own wears into the tedium of filing daily reports." That was said for Star Chaser's benefit to remind her that they still had obligations to perform.

A SE arrived with refreshment. The service bots, SEs, were a new model that did everything: ship repair, cleaning, valet service, medical care, military functions and whatever else came up where Cot or Star Chaser would need assistance. They had them for a year and a half to assess. Star integrated the SEs into her system to evaluate and make improvements where she could. Technically, it was tinkering and upgrading, though Cot privately thought it was more like a mother teaching her young to better themselves. It had disturbed her when it first occurred to her that Star Chaser could be likened to a person in a ship, but she had been assured it was not like that at all…yet the Caronda Fighters were still referred to as sentient ships. The pilots were asked if they thought they could try out this new type of ship for a number of years before making a judgment. They all agreed, each with doubts, though for different reasons. Cot primarily saw it as a way to get out of the business of war.

A beep had her glancing at her monitor. A message from CFS HQ, marked urgent. This had to be her next assignment. The encryption program ran and was authenticated as from HQ, Admiral of the Fleet's Office but the main message was from Star Force Command.

Cot recalled when she first heard of the organization, Star Force Command. It was 15 years ago at her interview for the diplomat academy. A list of ten organizations with their descriptions was presented and the candidate was asked to put the organizations she would like to join in the order that she would like to see herself in. Ironically enough, she had not considered the military, but in her second summer she had switched her training from the diplomatic corps to the military academy. Cot chuckled to herself. What she had done was put Star Force down as her ten year marker, thinking that was the natural development of a career diplomat.

Once her identification was verified a scrolling message downloaded. She waded through the usual salutations and name of the Admiral of the Fleet signing off on her transfer.

"We've been transferred. No surprise there." Her eyes moved down the message. It was from her new commander. It had an audio with no images.

"On audio."

Greetings, Lt. Col Cot, captain of star ship Star Chaser. I'm High Commander Er of Star Force.

Your squad has been under my command for the last two years - training. You have all passed testing and are officially now a part of Star Force.

Welcome.

Your promotion to Lieutenant Colonel was made by the recommendation of Star Force Command Review Staff.

Congratulations.

All ribbons and any other honors gained with your previous service hold true in Star Force. As a wearer of the Gideon Medal, in SF it is held in great esteem and recognized by a gold splash on formal, working and leisure uniforms. The wearer of the group medal of valor, the fourragère will change colors. When awarded in another military force SF uniforms will show it in dark green with red woven through it. When won in an SF operation it will be light green with red woven through it.

Your new uniform requirements have been downloaded to your ship and teammate, Star Chaser.

Study up on what is expected of you as a member of Star Force, then familiarize yourself on the unit called Chameleon of which your squad will become permanent members in three months time.

On your way to your new station, your orders are to observe, gather information, and replace old monitoring equipment with new. In areas you think are important leave behind monitors.

As a member of SF, you have the authority to intervene in situations when you feel it is necessary. Should you need any assistance do not hesitate to notify SFHQ.

In brief, SF agent's work behind the scenes and without the need for public recognition and if it's necessary to bring more SF agents in to keep a private face, then it will be done. Should you need to expedite a matter, you have authority over all other military or law enforcement agencies in the known galaxies and sectors, no matter rank. Use this privilege with prudence as well as wisdom.

There are information buoys as well as public kiosks throughout space that are on FSO frequency. Your ship has been given the pass codes. Prepare daily reports as you have always done and dispatch to the buoys and kiosks that have the proper frequency.

L'Gsta Outpost located near Appins Rim is your destination. You have three months to reach your post, Lt. Col Cot. Use that time well.

Your squad will reform up at L'Gsta under Commander Or.

Welcome to Star Force Corps, Lt. Col. Cot.

Carry on.

The message ended on an abrupt note.

"Star, verify the authenticity of that message," she ordered excited.

Minutes passed slowly before three sources sent an authentication to the message. The names of who authenticated impressed Cot: two admirals with the Joint Planetary High Command and a president of a federation. Admiral L had been the one to award her the Gideon; a wearer of Incursion War medals himself.

"You have a hail from Major Ara," Star notified her.

"I hope she's not going to ask for a ride," Cot said, impatient with the interruption. Sighing at her rush to brush off people that she had gone through a year of training with, she took a few measured breaths to refocus on patience and courtesy. There would be plenty of time to think more of her change of command.

"This is Cot, Ara."

"Cot! We've got some celebrating to do. Just about everyone is here. Matt and Leu said they tried to catch up with you but lost you in the crowd."

Cot could feel Star's interest in what Ara was calling her for. Star was interested in her because Ara was trained to operate some gizmo that was as classified as the Caronda Fighters. That was another bonus to attending POATA; new technology was tested by the students and most was still classified when they graduated and moved to their next posts.

"I'm not into partying these days. I…."

"What happened to that Lieutenant I knew that wouldn't pass up a party?" she interrupted impatiently.

Those days of needing to socialize to know what those around me were about are past. "She's been promoted with orders to be elsewhere, Ara." Her link notified her that she had an incoming message.

"Well, then can you give me a lift to Blinks Station? We can spend some time unwinding before we head to our next assignment."

"You know I can't give you a ride."

"Kar has a seat available, and is going in the direction she wishes," Star informed Cot mentally. "He does owe you a favor. He can be persuaded to give her a ride since he has a month off with nothing to do."

Star Chaser was doing her usual multitasking and nosing around the star base. In times like these it was an advantage.

"Kar has a seat available on his private yacht," Cot informed Ara. "I can let him know you want a ride if you wish."

"I do."

Cot was surprised to hear relief in her voice. She wondered why Ara was in a hurry to get off the base when she tried to get her to remain and party.

"The arrangement has been made. He leaves in ten minutes when he anticipates Uri to arrive," Star mentally informed her. "He is happy you are asking for the favor now."

"He said he'll give you a lift. He's waiting for Uri. His yacht is Golden Bough at docking bay, G22A4."

"I know of it. Tell him I'm on my way. I'll be there under five minutes…and thanks, Cot." The click let her know that Ara was on her way to her ride.

"She's in a hurry," Cot said. "Of course Uri's happy it's now and not later, Star. No one wants a favor hanging over their heads when it was gained over a gambling debt no matter how wealthy and influential his family is."

"We did get him at his own game," Star said smugly. "There is a use for collecting favors."

"If we have too many favors in our possession we many have hunting parties out to wipe their slates clean."

Cot could feel Stars disappointment that she turned Ara down since she would have had a chance to find out more of Ara's gizmo. Discovering secrets and what they were about, especially the classified kind, was Star's second hobby. Ara was in CFS Special Forces and therefore had plenty of secrets. Cot had no intention of getting caught between Star's curiosity and Ara's, especially since sid-ships were classified and she had no direct order that Ara was privy to boarding a CF.

"Cot, here, Tower. Go ahead."

"What's wrong with you graduating pilots that you can't stay on the ground long enough to celebrate?" Sgt. Omod griped good-naturedly. "You're cleared for Out Way seven. I wanted to wish you good sailing, Cot. Keep your ship and you safe. Tower out."

"Tower, I read you. OW7. Cot and Star Chaser out and about. And good luck to you, Sgt. Omod."

Cot checked Star Chaser's scans to be sure they were clear of traffic.

"Star, get us out of here by the book."

Star Chaser lifted, hovered while turning to face their exit, and then flew along OW-7 until they reached the safe zone to lift. With the acceleration of her ship came the exhilaration of power and knowledge Star's connection provided her. Everything was momentarily forgotten as her senses expanded beyond the hull of her ship, and at the same time, instant knowledge on whatever subject she asked of Star, though it did not mean she would understand it. Cot had learned that the expansiveness on her part could only be endured for an hour otherwise it would take at least two hours to reconnect with her physical self.

The planet receded to a small dot after ten minutes.

An hour later they passed the outer perimeter buoys of E-mass Settlements space. Cot dropped her connection with Star and they went into hyper drive at the precise moment it was legal to do so.

"Notify me when you drop out of hyperspace. Allow breakout point the distance allotted for your speed and scan range from where a ship your size would normally exit."

"The exit point has been recalculated," Star Chaser acknowledged.

"Star Chaser, you have the conn."

"Star Chaser, space explorer, has the conn," Star said.

Cot laughed. "That is what we shall do, Star. Explore space and whatever else comes our way." Chapter 2

Tests on Various Fronts

Rising from her seat, she scooped up her belongings, and headed to her quarters to change into the more comfortable flight suit. She felt giddy with excitement, like an ensign on her first deployment.

Ensign Cot.

That memory came back with all the emotional and physical weight of her naivety, fears, nervousness, and most of all -- excitement. It was a roller coaster ride in the dark.

Fresh from CFS Space Academy XXI she had lucked out in being able to snag a ride aboard a courier ship with a diplomat who remembered her with favor from her two years at the diplomat college. It was that or squeeze onboard one of the shuttles filled with graduates and students on semester breaks from the surrounding academies, and piles of luggage. To make the ride especially dodgy was a group she overheard planning on taking the celebratory mood to levels of conduct not condoned by the military. A bad conduct mark in one's personnel file was not how Cot wanted to start her military career. She passed a warning to a few fellow graduates and went to look for a safer ride.

At Raj Star Base she had a six hour wait over, which was not without excitement. As a base that never sleeps, entertainment, gangs, thieves, and hustlers were a constant presence. She remained awake and vigilant least she find herself drugged, robbed, and left naked in an alley. Engaging a sleep cubicle for the wait over was not something she felt comfortable with, not knowing how safe they were.

From Raj Star base she flew to Base004, a week long trip in a converted troop carrier, that was half full of troops to their next assignment. Her kit was her pillow and she did have a roomy seat; but she felt exhausted on arrival at Base004, where she would pick up a shuttle to her ship, CFS Everm. The anticipation of sleeping in her own bunk, even if it were to be for eight hours, the required rest time for new arrivals, kept her moving. Commander Ri and seven other female officers were on the troop carrier with her. From an overheard conversation she learned that Commander Ri was to be the Exec on the CFS Everm and was to prepare the crew for war against the followers of the Gepaks. Cot had heard rumors at the academy of an impending war but not many in the academy wanted to believe it true, so not much was spoken on it.

It was standing room only in the dangerously overcrowded supply shuttle, CFS Qu, with women of different ranks and species, squeezed in. The pilot explained that Captain Wot only allowed one shuttle to ferry the females over and there were no return trips to pick up overflow, so those not on the shuttle were left at Base004. Cot wished she had remained behind with Commander Ri and the others, but Commander Ri indicated to her that she was to be on the shuttle.

The shuttle had not quite settled in its docking station aboard CFS Everm when the large battleship was in motion out of the dock. Any pilot would tell you how dangerous that was. Cot believed the captain's intention was to insult the Admiralty that ordered he integrate his crew. Those loyal to Wot called him a genius in war tactics but Cot thought he was past that and had moved into senility, with his staff for their own reasons, propping him up. She endured two weeks of humiliation and harassment, learning about herself and those that abused others. They could be likened to the Gepaks' followers, and Cot knowing of the impending war, was disturbed by this.

Gepaks were a species more advanced then some, that traveled space and enslaved planets as well as destroyed them at will. They genetically manufactured races to have at their disposal something they could play with. For species that were weak minded, they encouraged them to demean others in whatever manner suited their dispositions. Gepaks were in no way more powerful than most of the space traveling species, but they did use others as fodder to prevent their arrest by the Planetary Law Enforcement Detail.

The Fleet Admiral's letter caught up with the CFS Everm with the help of the faster and deadlier CFS Portsmouth. Under armed escort, Wot was relieved of command with his faithful staff.

Captain Regla was his replacement. Over the ships comm Captain Regla read their new orders and from then on a new type of energy drove the crew to prepare for battle. Captain Regla, with Commander Ri were to take the CFS Everm into the heart of the armies of the Gepaks. In the three weeks that it would take them to reach the border, was the time Captain Regla had to get her crew into a cohesive fighting force and she worked them harder than the bullies of Captain Wot.

Four months into the war, Cot had become leader of her flight squad, who under her leadership earned the Fourragère, the single braided cord that distinguished a group for their efficiency and duty in combat; rose to the rank of lieutenant; and garnered her first of many Incursion War Medals which eventually led to her award of the Gideon Medal. A fighter pilot was not something she had envisioned for herself when she left her home planet.

More importantly, she became a member of Commander Ri's select group that practiced QuaDom, fulfilling her aunt's assurance, that she will always have a teacher to guide her through the ways of the peaceful warrior.

"We're in a new element, Star. Dig up as much information on General Or, L'Gsta Outpost, and surrounding planets. Politics is an important component in our new line of business. And find out whatever information you can on you and I. We need to know what sort of information there is on us."

The colorful dress uniform she detested was dumped in the recycler and from her closet she pulled out her new flight uniform. With species requirements in mind, all flight uniforms were basically the same design with a hidden pocket or two. Job determined the coloring of the uniform from bright orange for repair techs to light gray for pilots. Standing before the mirror, she looked over her new uniform. The gold splash on the left sleeve marked her as the bearer of the Gideon Medal of Valor. Her ranking was on the collar.

Her eyes rose to look at the face of the person staring back at her. Startled, her thoughts went a drift for a moment, not finding anything familiar in the face before her. Had she changed that much since the last time she really looked at herself and not the uniform? Cot tugged at the uniform sleeves as if they needed adjusting, not ready to admit to when she last dared to ask herself who she was in respect to what she wanted to be doing with her life.

Come to think of it…the last time I asked that was when a squad leader let his group of greenies chase down a couple of pirates right into a trap and I had the honor of sifting through the debris looking for survivors.

Cot shook her head to clear the memory of scattered bodies in space with blank staring eyes. It reminded her of why she favored to work alone, inconsistent with her military training that preferred its members to working within squad support. Turning her attention back to her new affiliation she realized that SF in all probability knew more about her than she knew of them. Not as naïve as she once was, whatever organization she worked for would be investigated. Using Star's resources was one way, but Star Chaser was their tool. There were other methods of gaining information on a secretive organization without having to resort completely to sneaky tactics. Direct contact with fellow agents was the most telling. After one year of learning to separate personality from species trait it should be easy enough to figure out an organization's character via how its agents acted. Cot smiled at her reflection in the mirror. It was about separating fact from myth and rumor.

"It's time to start that new schedule I've promised myself," she told her smiling image.

In the cargo bay she had set up her sacred space and workout area. Reflected Light, Star Chaser's shuttle, took up half the cargo bay. The rest of the area was for supplies, her sacred space, and a workout area that allowed enough room for her physical training.

Sitting on a pad, on another mental level that Star was not privy too, she said her prayers, and then cast her circle, starting deosil. After a few moments of deep cleansing breaths, she called her guardians to the seven points, and then welcomed her ancestors.

Her thoughts turned to her concern for the others in her squad.

According to Star, Captain Wimsey Macnab flying Quiet Quest was deployed with Captain Aysen Macfarlane flying Quiet Storm to cover the Hibri, Borik, and Codic Sectors. They all were to remap their assigned areas of space with new equipment and leave buoys with advanced capabilities behind, then head to their new home base, L'Gsta Outpost along Appins' Rim.

Captains Goudie Grant flying Melodie, Hallie Drummond flying Gallant Soldier with Allison Macalister flying Space Cat, were stretched out along Borik Sector, close to Durant's Rim where their unidentified space sector neighbor was unfriendly.

Captains Feah Lamont flying Caointiorn, Maciver Campbell in Gormal and Moodie Stewart in Brianag, covered the interior, with orders to travel through areas that most ships would not want to travel through and leave off spy bots that would also act as backup, should a SF agent need it.

Captains Barron Rose in Galaxy Traveler, Fionnaghal Hay in Penumbra, and Mòr McGillivray in Flash covered the boundary along Tuead and Codic border, with the same orders as the others, with their ending point at L'Gsta Outpost, their new base. They all had three months to report to their new outpost and a lot could happen to them in that time over that amount of space without the backup they were used to providing for each other.

However, she smiled, it is good fortune that came our way for the last two years. Now it's time for us to put the training and our fortunes to test. So relax, breathe and focus on breath.

Taking a slow breath in, she stilled her thoughts and focused first on her breath and then nothing.

When meditation time came to an end, prayers of thanksgiving to her guardians and ancestors, and protection prayers for her squad were said. The circle was opened widdershins. Rising, she stretched slowly, relishing the idea that there was no hurry to do anything, and then headed for the bridge at a quick walk, interested in what there was to see. The passageway's bulkhead was a hologram of rolling fields with the deck a yellow brick road leading into a castle keep. Cot chuckled at Star's humor.

"I have the conn, Star." When she sat in her chair the beginnings of her console snaked toward her, then unfurled to a flat screen.

"Cot has the conn," Star said. "We are coming out of hyperspace at the first intersection," Star reported.

Due to Star Chaser's new improved sensors it would allow them to pick up anything in the vicinity of where they would have been predicted to appear had they hyper spaced out where ships her size would normally program to.

"Anything of interest in the neighborhood?"

"I am sending what my sensors are picking up to your screen," Star said.

"This is a list of chemical compounds. Can you be less specific?"

The listing changed to something more solid; evidence of ships passage in the busy travel corridor, which was why traveling at hyperspace speeds through busy travel corridors, was not done. At first reading there was nothing in the area that would be interpreted as suspicious activity or appearance.

"Report on ship to our starboard."

"It is the Eavator. A Sigrid class ship. My readings show it powered up four hours ago but has remained in place."

Sigrid class ships were from Teai Sector designed specifically for the species Sier that lived primarily in space rocks in Besum's rings in the Teai Sector. To be invited to dine with a Sier was participating in dropping down on terrified creatures and injecting them with a paralyzing agent and then eating them. Not even for diplomatic reasons would Cot accept an invitation to dine with a Sier.

Teai Sector was a year's travel from their present position, unless they knew of private gateways, and then the travel time was an unknown.

"I expected more than one interested party to appear before we reach our first travel gate."

"They are interested in my performance which is beyond my original specs," Star said, justifiably proud of her upgrades.

"They've had two years to study you - us, Star. Now that we're out and about and with no backup, anyone with issues about us has three months to do something about it."

"Our purpose is toward non violence," Star Chaser said.

"Your original design out of the shipyards was a long distance star fighter. Anyone looking at you now would see that you don't have the canon mounts or weapon bays the original design had, but the difference between the two designs leads to the question, where are you hiding your weapons now."

"They will not be able to scan me with accuracy," Star said. "You guessed that they would be waiting for us," Star said.

"It wasn't a guess. I felt it in my bones," she joked.

Star was silent for a few seconds. "I have scanned your bone structure. You do not have anything that would alert you to the ship waiting there."

"There's a lot about me that can't be learned through scans. I used my intuition."

"Intuition is not a reliable tool for our protection."

"So you keep telling me. How long has that ship been there?"

"My scans show that Eavator has been waiting three days," Star said.

"The area is most probably saturated with sensors. We'll go around. Find out how wide we need to pass."

"I am scanning for various grades of sensors, starting at the highest level," Star informed her.

"You do have the latest technology at your disposal."

"What was given me was performing below its potential. I have improved both performance and expanded 90% of the equipment beyond its makers' specifications."

"You certainly have the ability to turn out upgrades faster than the manufacturer or HQ, Star. Give me details on Eavator -- the entire crew and passengers if there are any, and anything else you think warrants notice."

The shipyard schematics of each deck including, cabins, weapons bays, and contents of the cargo bay were supplied before she finished asking.

"Ship schematics down to the emergency breakout boxes," Cot commented.

Breakout boxes were rescue pods for some species.

"Their security is substandard and easy to circumvent," Star said.

Information on the captain filled a screen behind the ship's diagram. Star provided her with who and what was precisely on each deck.

"You have again surprised me Star with your speed and efficiency at breaking through a ship's security and into the logs, and I trust without leaving a trace?" she said with mock seriousness. "We don't want to get anyone upset."

"I have left no trace. It was a simple code to break."

Cot pursed her lips in thought. Was that Star's ego talking or was it intentionally easy to get in? "Some thing that's easy to enter may have been meant to be entered. Have you taken action to prevent feedback or retaliation through your connection?"

"An open vault temps even the most honest," Star quoted, then added, "Without practice a skill languishes."

"Star, you fit right in with SF Special Ops, but run a scan on yourself to make sure you didn't pickup anything that can compromise your systems. You're skillful and well practiced, but don't be fooled into folly by your cleverness. For a captain of his years, he would know to leave more than one level of security to protect his ship."

Cot tapped through the schematics of each deck.

"Eavator has enough weaponry to be the type that doesn't tag along to just take notes. I wonder why its status as a non military vessel hasn't been challenged. Send this to SFHQ and our sid-mates. I think this is a setup, though I'm not certain for who or what."

"Why do you think a setup, Cot?"

"When a private yacht is carrying armaments found on warships and pirate ships it's safe to assume they're up to something that will attract nasty business. From any of the kiosks we've passed have you picked up any warning messages of a private yacht being attacked or having to be this armed?"

"No warnings to travelers or to CFS patrols," Star said.

"What is the average for a ship with these readings to travel the distance they have without a deep hull scan to tip off the authorities that this is a ship to be wary of?"

"Without knowing their flight plan it would be difficult to give an average."

"What does the captain's travel log show?"

"I have not scanned the captain's personal log. However, Eavator's crew's personal logs report she set sail from her home port six months ago and has initiated contact with fifty kiosks for communication packets. Each kiosk is listed and the time spent at each."

"So what does that tell you, Star?"

"That I am able to break personal codes to read other peoples mail. Cot, people do not think to prevent an outsider into their logs, only their crewmates."

A new set of scan results showed on Cot's screen.

"I am picking up ghost signals that go out as far as my scan range can reach," Star said.

"These might be the new Halb sensors I read about. Very good, Star. The manufacture guarantees that they're tamper proof and could be mistaken as ghost signals, reflections of space anomalies."

"It is an over use of sensors. Any ship passing would run into one. Are we going to take out the Eavator?" Star asked.

"No," Cot answered surprised. "Do you have any evidence that they've attacked anyone or that they intend to?"

"No," Star answered.

"All we know is that the area is saturated with passive sensors," Cot said. "They could just be out here testing their new equipment. I can only suspect it is more than that."

Cot tapped through star charts. There were two known public gates a days' travel in different directions. Alba Gate and Detra Gate. Anyone interested in them would have both gates staked out as well as the normal places ships with their destination would hyper space out.

"Instead of using known gates, there's an old one right here. It's two hours from Detra Gate."

"There is a story with this information?" Star asked.

"It's in the story of Raven's Flight. I'm not sure why it's fallen into disuse, but we're going to find out if it can take us to the Hege Space Province like the story says."

Cot reviewed Star's scans, keeping an eye on passing ships and communication traffic as they changed headings.

"I have reports ready for your viewing," Star said.

"To my screen."

The background check on Star Chaser's registry and her files came through. Star Chaser's shipyard plans and her original fittings gave Cot a start. She had not realized so much had changed over the last two years.

"These are listed as your official plans, a star fighter, not updated to show your true intent."

"My purpose is peaceful."

"Our purpose is peaceful. Your original design was with a crew of four. I would imagine there are actual star fighters built to the original plans."

It was not uncommon to see similar ship designs produced in other sector shipyards. All that the manufactures or designers had to do was change something significant on the copied design and sell it to another. Cot knew that a sentient ship was not a popular idea. If it was, all sectors would have their shipyards mass producing them. If a group was interested in ending the use of sentient ships, one method would be to have a replica so that the ships vulnerabilities would be taken advantage of.

Cot leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes to think. Star Force would know this…and they would know that many changes on the ships had taken place over two years by the ships themselves giving input in what to add or remove. Of all the CFs, Star Chaser was the most innovative and stubborn in her application of changes in her architecture and software. They were also the only CF in their group sent out on their own. Was Star Force testing Star Chaser's ability to adapt, interested in seeing what she would create to advance their agenda? Was their agenda the same as their mission statement? How much could Cot trust Star Force with as little as she knew of them?

"Do a bare bones search for anything you're not in control of." She paused a moment, rethinking the order. "On second thought, the CBIS can scan your structure and systems."

"I have not integrated that object into my systems," Star said. Cot caught the peeved tone, indicating Star Chaser found something mechanical that she could not easily break into.

"That's good. We want something independent to check you out."

Star began to list reasons on her screen as to why a scan from the CBIS would not be as effective as her own scan, but Cot ignored it and got up. As she headed to the cargo bay to activate the CBIS, rather than a conversation, Star continued the objections in thought. It was an indication to Cot that Star was upset.

"The CBIS is the only gizmo we have that didn't come from the labs that produced your body and all the other equipment we have. Wouldn't you want to know if someone has equipment on you that you not only can't identify but don't know about?"

"There is nothing on me that I do not know about."

"Then CBIS should not come up with anything you don't know about. CBIS is a passive scan, Star. It's not a weapon nor can it shut anything down on you."

CBIS came active immediately and requested a recognition scan of Cot. Once given, Cot programmed her request, a deep scan of Star. It would take a long time for each component of her structure and programming to be certified.

The CBIS was produced by a small company trying to break into the ship security and repair business. To keep financially solvent they sold some of their inventions before they were mass marketed, so they would not sacrifice their independence and be merged into a larger company. One of the scientists was a friend. It cleaned out her credit account but after two years of not going anywhere to spend credits her account was back in the plus.

"What about the tag in my school medallion?"

"I am studying it. What I am finding can be disturbing."

"What is that?"

"It was made on a prison planet," Star said. "My inquires into who designed it and who it was sold to have not come up with answers. The intentions of the manufacturer are suspect."

Cot never paid attention to the people whose capture she was responsible for. For all the ships she destroyed that did not want capture, her capture rate was higher. It had a lot to do with her finding a way to the pirate, smuggler or other crime groups' hideouts, and then leaving other departments, like the hoplites and FTS troop ships responsible for securing and making the actual arrests.

It would be too great a jump in logic to find this a coincidence, but it did warrant looking into.

"Have you destroyed the physical element of the tag yet?"

"No."

"Do you need it for further study?"

"No."

"In the next update to HQ, send your information on the tag and destroy the tag, Star. The longer you keep its parts the longer we can be tracked."

"There is no signal being emitted from this tag. It has been disabled," Star said.

Cot decided not to remark on Star's continued resistance to do as she ordered. Sometimes arguing over little things was a waste of energy. Cot moved to her files to see what Star was able to find on Lieutenant Colonel Colleen, clan MacDiarmid. Skipping past the parts she already knew about she found the newest notations. I've been moved into special operations. No surprise there since I'm flying an experimental ship, but I see it's not named so it's been left to assume it's into CFS Special Ops. Cot closed the file.

"Is there anything else I need to read?"

"You have not read your orientation from Star Force," Star said.

The information appeared on her screen.

"This is a lot of reading. Play the recording, Star."

Cot leaned back and closed her eyes, relaxing just enough not to be droned to sleep. Somewhere in the recitation of how Star Force came into being was a forceful delivery of an important note:

"No member is above Star Force law. Loyalty to the force and members is primary and that means reporting a member that violates a Star Force rule. Above all else Star Force must maintain a higher moral and ethical set of standards than any of the other organizations Star Force deals with. It's because of our practice of moral and ethical standards that Star Force was granted jurisdiction over other military, semi-military and political governments.

"Our laws are as follow….

It finally came to an end.

If she ran into an agent in trouble it was her duty to assist as discreetly and as much as possible. This new job was sounding more and more interesting.

"Is there a secret sign or something we have to know to recognize a fellow agent?"

Star provided holographic examples of one person, two people, and in groups. The images were of species that had no resemblance to a Muland.

"Anything a Muland can use?"

A holograph popped out with a Muland interacting with various species, including a Sien.

"That is really funny, Star. I'll be too busy worrying that one of those long appendages is reaching to drag me in to be dinner. I don't know who agreed to let them in the open league to travel space because they're too predatory to be peacekeepers. I'll grant you that they were great allies in the fight against Gepack agents, but what other use are they?"

"I have researched their species. They are not the hunters they were in their earlier beginnings, looking for other biologicals for food. They are hunters of relics from lost or ancient civilizations," Star said.

"That gives them a ready excuse for having heavily armored ships and for being found in different sectors of space. I bet they know a lot of hidden gates that can take them to different parts of space faster than a thought. But, in regards to Eavator, it wasn't hunting for a relic or artifact. It was hunting for a new Coronda Fighter."

"Is that based on your intuition?" Star asked.

Cot ignored the dig. "That captain was not just sitting picket duty to monitor traffic. He meant to take some type of action as soon as his sensors picked up what he was looking for."

"Your reasons are not provable, Cot."

"Nor are they disprovable, Star. It would not be difficult for someone to find out our posting is L'Gsta Outpost and plot possible courses we could take. Had Eavator not been active you would have missed it."

"I can send out a probe to study Eavator."

"No. I don't want to spend any more time in this part of space." Cot leaned back in her seat smiling.

"I think Cot, you are anticipating adventure; therefore you interpret events around you as pertaining to your anticipation."

"You don't find it suspicious that a ship waiting for four days, suddenly goes active hours before we arrive?"

"I can show you statistics on how many times that has occurred and it had nothing to do with the ship that made such an observation," Star remarked dryly.

"Do calculate the odds, Star. Make sure you do it with civilian captains with no military experience, civilian captains with military experience and military captains. Then show life experience in space. You can give me the results later. I'll be in my quarters getting some sleep. You have the conn, Star."

"Star Chaser has the conn."

Chapter 3

A Viper's Venom

Ten hours later she was back at the helm and after being amused with Stars research results that were not standing up to Star's belief, she left her comments unsaid. With the transparent hull engaged, Cot enjoyed being surrounded by the expansive views of deep space. It was a different experience than connecting with Star and all her sensors, or astral projecting. Star's perspective was filtered through her mechanical sensors that were limited to only known things and astral projecting was a point to point journey with the scenery going by too fast for her to note anything but blurs.

Before Cot, amid the views of galaxies and black holes, a portion of space wavered as if a curtain moved with a breeze, and a squadron of CFS ships appeared out of hyperspace. The transparency vanished and Cot was surrounded by Star's solid bulkhead and her console. Twenty four CFS warhawks spread out on their portside, sending out seekers that formed a semicircle around Detra Gate, lighting up her alarm board.

"I wonder who they're looking for."

"They are looking for a Coronda Fighter," Star said and supplied her with a copy of the transmission one of the ships received.

"Star, send out a Wringer to extract all the information that lead ship has on you."

"Including the security officer's files?" Star asked.

"Yes, including what's in the security officer's files. I want to know why they're looking for us." Why would CFS ships be looking for us? I can understand private interests but not our old comrades.

"Orders are to seek and destroy."

"Look deeper, Star. That doesn't make sense - unless this is some type of test for us." Adversity is the path to awakening, but awakening to what? Cot frowned at her console that showed devices spread around the public gate sending out signals to each other as they set themselves into a blanket barrier that would spot anything that moved in the area covered.

"I could send a dozen SEs out to deactivate them," Star offered. "It would appear to be a malfunction."

"Not the SEs." Cot hesitated and then added, "We have plenty of new gadgets you've been fine tuning that need testing in RT. Let's see what we've got for messing with their plans…without anything being traced back to us." Am I justified in ruining their equipment because they were planning something unpleasant for us? If they were not so aggressive in planting sensors all over this area, I may have decided to just quietly pass… It will do their training good to differentiate equipment failures and natural space events. Cot chuckled as she tapped her screen to look over their supplies.

"A for arsenal," she hummed to herself. "Now this looks promising."

The Acoustic Mine was designed specifically to take out areas infested with sensors. Star added a virus that would use the link from the sensors to the ship monitoring them that would short out navigational systems. The virus would pass to other systems the ships were communicating with. By Stars design, it would be as if the ship ran into an electoplasmic storm that some how got past the ships shields.

"If all goes as your tests show, they'll be down about a day taking into consideration the panic factor. If no panic -- half a day. Where's Wringer?"

"Two clips from the warhawk Alfre," Star reported. "My tests are conclusive. It will not be traced to us. Why would they think it would be us?"

"A good question and that's the way we want to keep it. How long for Wringer to get the needed information?"

"Wringer is in their system and downloading now. Five minutes to return," Star said confidently.

"Once Wringer is back safe, set off two AMs, one on each side of that meteor to put a touch of doubt to their belief that it was intentional. You do have counter measures in both to be sure our little spies aren't going to get traced back to us, right?"

Star lit up a portion of the star map on Cot's screen and then brought up a holographic image of a creature jumping out at Cot from the screen.

"Oh, that will scare them." She swatted at it and it dissipated. "I'm just trying to point out that the hunter always expects the prey to have traps and other nasties to snap at them should they get too close, so be extra careful about moving in this area. I'm sure we're not the only ones that think that meteor a great place to plant a trap. And if this is a test, which is the only thing that all this would make sense about, then don't trust any information you pull from their logs without getting outside corroboration."

Cutting her power, Star glided through the meteor's trailing debris. Cot linked in with Star and felt space matter bump against her outer-buffer. Only a part of her attention was on her monitor and almost too late Cot recognized a pattern to the debris.

"Roll to port!"

"We will be seen," Star said but did change direction.

Their link dropped at the same time of Cot's realization. "Don't touch the netting anywhere, including with a scan. It will send a virus back on your return signal."

Relinking with Star she could feel the movement of space less powerful against the bow. Cot could feel Star cut most of her power to not register with the warhawks sensors and their satellites. Mentally she sent a "well done" to Star.

On their portside was the usual feel of space when caught in a meteor's trail of debris. Starboard was a different type of energy pushing against Stars buffer, aggressive and alert. Cot dropped her link from the suddenness of the attack from the net. It was a predator waiting for its prey.

"There are breaks in it. Since it's still active it must be of use to someone that is interested in the path of this meteor. See if you can also find out where the breaks occur. That will give us an idea of the size and when…"

"I know the protocol, Cot," Star said, sounding offended.

"Of course you know, but I do have to say it, Star. This is still a military ship and this is a military maneuver so we need to be sure we're working on the same strategy. We'll disable it if it's used for illegal activities."

"It has not attacked us nor threatened to do so," Star pointed out. "It is merely reacting because we nearly ran into it."

"It's a Net, Star, designed to have ships run into it so it can disable a ship's security buffer. By your answer I'm guessing you've communicated with it."

"Yes."

"Ask what its purpose is."

Cot linked with Star to see what the connection between Star and the net's operating system was like. Star made an overture to the Net's OS. A welcome was returned, too quickly for Cot's cautious nature, but this was Star's operation. Cot knew the moment of its touch that it was a malicious predator and before she could warn Star, withdraw or blink, she was lifted out of her seat and thrown across the bridge, where she hit the bulkhead and dropped to the deck unconscious.

* * *

Blinking her eyes open, the first thing she saw was the medbot hovering near her. For a long moment she laid there reviewing what she remembered happened. Her summation was as captain of her ship, she got sloppy. Moving her head she grimaced at the headache. Sighing, she moved into a sitting position.

"You have a touchy friend," Cot whispered.

"Net is not a friend," Star said.

Another bot supplied her with a liquid which she drank thirstily, then leaned back. Waiting for the meds to take effect, Cot closed her eyes, willing her stomach and headache to recede. The meds were not making her feel better. Using the bulkhead as support, Cot stood up and on wobbly legs made it back to her seat.

"What transpired from the time I tried to link with you and Net?" she thought to Star.

"It thought too much of itself. That was its mistake. I have left an explosive in one of its dead sections," Star informed her.

They were now out of Net's area drifting with little power outside of the CFS squad's search pattern. Wringer was back in Star's bay and Star was waiting for her to give the order to activate the AMs.

"Detonate when you're ready, Star," she said hoarsely, then coughed. She was handed a warm beverage. The warmth from the herb drink loosened the tightness in her throat.

"Signal sent," Star said.

The majority of blips on her screen went out as systems failed

"Switch to…" it was done as she thought it. Blips reappeared. Her external viewer showed some of the warhawks drifting. Those unaffected went on evasive maneuvers until a firm hand had them moving into a defensive grid to protect those unable to steer.

Their scans of the area would find the burst of electromagnetism that scrambled their systems was from colliding space debris. How it managed to leak through their shields was for them to worry over.

Cot wondered what happened to Net in the blast. Star had the same idea and was scanning for traces. Nothing.

"Let's get out of here. Leave one of the new monitors to see what they do and have it return when the ships leave this space. Rerun everything from the moment we ran into Net on my screen. I want to know everywhere that thing touched your hull, then we'll inspect the area carefully for any weaknesses. We'll wait a distance from the gate for the monitor's arrival."

"That may be days," Star said.

"There is no immediate hurry. We can make a through inspection of your hull while we wait."

When Cot completed her report to HQ on their recent action she signed it and decided it was time Star took a more official part in the reports.

"Star, add your assessment of our encounter with Net and about the AMs performance to this report, then send it off to HQ."

Hours later, a ding notified Cot that they reached the general area the gate was in.

"Hold position here. We'll wait for the monitor."

She reviewed her calculations, checking them against what Star Chaser presented on her screen. "Never assume the information you're given is correct if you're going to gamble on it," she always warned her students, and kept repeating the same thing to Star Chaser, who so far, was too confident in her own abilities to distrust her answers.

"You have the conn, Star. Let me know if anything comes up and-or when the monitor returns."

"Star Chaser has the conn."

She changed to a lighter workout suit and then went into the cargo bay. A stop at the CBIS to see what its progress was let her know that it was working.

Cot spent the next hour not thinking about anything but evading the bruising hits a holographic fighter got on her when her thoughts strayed. Her opponent was intentionally made to look silly by Star who thought she knew how to create a better self defense course than what Cot had been through so far. Star varied the situations and adversaries from down right scary to outrageously funny, and Star loaded the lessons with sensory stimuli so Cot would have more than one trigger to remember the lesson. In the many space sectors there were more than enough species to pick whose odor if not body size overwhelmed her. It added to the challenge of neutralizing her opponent.

A buzz sounded letting her know that her practice time was over. The next hour she worked on running, hopping and climbing over obstacles used to build up her endurance, should she ever have to go planet side for a military operation. After a shower and change of clothes, she stopped at the galley for a light meal before returning to the bridge.

"I have the conn, Star. Give me a system report. Anyone in this vicinity?"

"Cot has the conn. No ships close enough to detect us. Normal space traffic. All systems have been checked and all systems are functioning Above Shipyard Standards, ASYS."

"ASYS report received. Send out feelers to make sure our tail doesn't have a tail."

"I have gone over the Sub474 device and tinkered with it to improve its factory specs. It has not detected any scanning device in its vicinity."

"Tinker" was a new phrase Star picked up from her mechanics at the academy, which could mean a complete overhaul.

"You are keeping me up on what you improve, right?"

"Sub474 has longer range scan and can emit a frequency that will confuse readings on ship sensors. I will flag all equipment I have upgraded with new functions."

"Thank you. What will set off the emitter?"

"A passing ship that sends out a signal."

An indicator on her monitor showed the arrival of Sub474.

Cot reviewed Star's scanning results. There was nothing following them.

"On my mark transmit the code…mark. Star, send in a monitor to clear the tunnel as safe for me to enter."

Fifteen minutes later SE7 came sailing back, reporting the corridor was stable.

"All ahead, quarter cruise speed. We'll let the energy current carry us. As we move through the gate, download to my console who last passed through and encrypt this location in your files."

Many of the gates were created before most known species were traveling in space. Since all the gates were in working order, it was often discussed who maintained them with no one feeling they had an answer.

"Pass in Peace" was the message sent to Star Chaser as she moved through the gate.

"It's not a very busy gate of late. The last passage was two months ago. The Abaral passed through. That's a private yacht owned by the Bodos family. They're not into trade so I wonder why they would be way out here."

"A vacation," Star said.

Cot calculated the time it would take for the yacht to travel from their home planet to the gate, then ran calculations on other public gates near by. Months and weeks.

"Too long for most working class vacationers and for the idle rich that want immediate gratification. There has to be a purpose for this yacht other than a whim to have passed through here. If I were still on patrol I would find this something to look into," Cot said.

"Why?" Star asked.

"Because kidnapping and hijacking is a lucrative business for pirates, so this ship being so far off its normal course is worth noting. Keep an eye out for this yacht, Star. Send a message to the others also, and update them on our progress. And Star, send them what information you have on Net as soon as you can." She rubbed her temples, realizing she had a slight headache that was working its way to be annoying. Cot moved on to read the reports on the warhawks they had left disabled.

"They were lucky that freighter was passing. She's a light ship repair freighter. There's not too many of those around."

"Is the captain an interest to look into, Cot?"

"Yes. Check out her captain, Star."

Immediately information began to scroll across her screen. Star was playing with her by asking.

"Ex-military? That's not unusual but an O'Rourke in the military is. They usually stick to the merchant ships or space trade business. When a member breaks out of the mold it's someone worth watching. See if she's related to the O'Rourke merchant clan."

"You are such a person too, Cot."

Cot snorted without humor at Stars observation on her relationship with her clan.

"And check out how many repair freighters there are in that area," she said, to change the subject. "See if any of them repair nets." I wonder if this O'Rourke owns that net. It wouldn't be the first time a merchant causes accidents to get business.

Star listed herself first.

"You're not a repair ship, Star."

"I have the capacity to repair ships."

"You can do ship repairs but I'm talking about… Alright, add yourself and then break down all ships that can repair others by speed, efficiency, size, quality, and location."

"There are other notable categories."

"Okay and whatever other category you think we'll need."

After a few hours of studying the Sub474 scans, Cot could not find any evidence that Net survived, but it did not totally rule out the possibility that it was not destroyed entirely. Depending upon its complexity, if one joint survived, it could latch onto a passing ship and cause damage in the ships defense grid.

Cot added a notation in her report to HQ of her recommendation that a sweeper troll the area and for ships passing through to be on the lookout for any ship that may be suffering from a power failure. Net was too sophisticated in its attack in targeting her and not Star to succumb to an explosive.

Yawning, Cot stretched to become more alert. Drowsiness was an occupational hazard that she kept at bay by taking breaks. It was time for another.

"Star, you have the conn."

"Star Chaser has the conn."

Rising, she stepped into the passageway that appeared as a forest in autumn. Inhaling deeply, the scent of forest filled her lungs, even down to the humus.

Changing into workout clothes, she mentally began to prepare herself for a good physical practice session. Stepping into the cargo bay, she looked around for an attack that Star, her trainer, may have planned for her. Surprises were her favorite way to keep Cot on her toes.

An old Roja master sat naked under a shosa tree. She knew it was a Roja master because Star informed her. For a moment Cot wanted to tell Star to bring up a physical workout lesson but hesitated. Would she let Star, a ship, run her life?

The Roja master had a bowl of cracka nuts in his lap and he was sucking the hard shell instead of cracking the shell open for its meat. He looked up at her and gestured to a mat in front of him.

Cot sat.

The cracka meat was a potent hallucinogen for some species, if it did not kill the consumer first. If the consumer survived, then for a few hours or days, prophetic dreams were experienced. With a good interpreter, the myriad of images could be put to good use. Cot believed if she could not have such dreams through practice and discipline, then it was not something she should be taking shortcuts to.

Cot watched him suck on the nut noisily, smiling and nodding to himself as if he were participating in a dialogue. He made a sign in the air and seemed to fall asleep. Her practice time was over, his image faded away. Rising to her feet, she wondered what the lesson was.

The attack was sudden, one of the six warriors that surrounded her hit her, sending her skidding across the deck and rolling to her feet. The scene was a wharf. It was dark.

How did she know there were six?

Star told her.

Cot flattened herself on the deck, willing herself into another form. One of Star's lessons was for Cot to morph into other creatures so she could learn how they fought from inside out. Morphing was not part of this program. Star never told her what tools were available for her. Rolling onto her back she caught her first attacker behind the knob and kicked out the other knob. Three knobs per leg, with four legs to work on a Huark. Avoiding their spit was essential since it was acid to her skin. While she fought with the other five there was a feeling that another was lurking out of sight. A shadow that did not belong in a corner was the giveaway. When the fifth was rendered powerless, Cot whirled around looking for the unseen. Slowly she turned looking hard at the bulkhead, her hearing straining to hear movement.

There! The sound was from above her and she dived forward, her legs scissoring and breaking a leg. Her arm was numbed and legs pined with two of her attacker's four. The advantage was the one broken leg was unbalancing the Huark, but she was unable to use that to any advantage. She was effectively immobilized. Bubbles from the lips of the Huark warned her she was going to be burned.

"I surrender," Cot said.

The program ended.

Cot rolled to a sitting position resting her head in her hands feeling the bruises and aches in her muscles. "Loss is enlightenment, as auntie would say. I can't wait to take that fight apart and see just where I could have won it."

Her soaking tub was filled when she returned to her quarters. While the herbed waters soaked out her muscle fatigue her thoughts wandered over the exercises. What had the message of that ridiculous image of some Roja master to do with her fight? Star was a collector of cultural tales, so what did she mean having a spiritual master sitting naked under a nut tree, sucking on the hard shelled fruit?

It was easier to make sense of her aunt's sayings, such as "Work with what you get," or "Whatever you ignore or don't see, will come back and bite you." As a fighter pilot those made sense.

Her mind finally shut off as the heat and herbs did their job. When the timer dinged, she felt ready to get back to work. There were things to do and one of them was to do some research. Roja masters, cracka nuts, a tree, and whatever else was in the lesson she would look up.

Chapter 4

A Straight Stick is Crooked in the Water

"Exit point confirmed," Cot acknowledged. She looked up from her console to see what the corridor looked like when they were moving at a slower speed. It still appeared as a tunnel with blurred lights all around them. They arrived at their exit point, the outer region of Hege Space Province and sensors detected no ships or monitor buoys near by.

"Send out Sub474 to see what we're exiting to, then give the exit code when ready. Continue drift without thrust. We don't want to suddenly appear on someone's screens."

Minutes later they passed through the exit gate. The ship was jerked into a fast moving space current created from a passing meteor. They were on the other side of the Tuead sector, maybe a day from Captain Goudie Grant and Melodie, but Cot did not want to interrupt her feeling of solitude just yet. If Star wanted to get chatty with Melodie she imagined she would do it unless she asked her not to. It was one of the glaring differences between her personality and Star Chasers. Star loved to socialize. She contacted things that communicated just for curiosity sake. Thankfully, she also liked to conceal who she really was. Star loved the game of being the mystery woman and sometimes a man. As far as Cot knew, Star's games were with other computers, which allowed her to practice her techniques in breaking into ships' logs. Who would have ever thought a ship computer could charm another to give up its secrets. Cot pursed her lips in thought, wondering how Star felt about handling Net. Egos must have clashed. Should she press Star for more detail on her handling of Net? When Star updated her report on the incident, she would read it.

"Increase energy by four to the entire shield. Let's see how your energy buffer holds up."

They were at the edge of a main travel corridor. Readings from the recent passage of a convoy scrolled down her console.

"How does a gate next to a busy lane remain a secret? Not even a passing meteor altered the gate positioning," Cot marveled at the technology.

"There has been no measurable movement in it's positioning," Star sounded impressed also. "It has been well constructed."

"It goes to show you that there are still a lot of things we can learn."

"Wisdom is not passed on through birthright or ethnicity."

"That it isn't. Everyone perceives things from their own perspective." Cot had a flash of insight that she made an important point; however, whatever it was escaped her.

"It is amazing how any agreement can be made with so many differing perspectives," Star commented. "What makes a color blue does not translate across all species' receptors."

"Hm," Cot hummed preoccupied, her thoughts already moved on to reviewing Star's passive scans of what was behind them. Peripherally, she saw the bar rise on her screen, indicating Star Chaser added more energy to protect the outer hull as radiation increased from some of the meteor debris.

An alarm light on her console showed six unidentified ships appear out of hyperspace, then disappeared.

"Inadequate time to make a useful search," Star said.

"You're right. Chances are they dropped something off to monitor the area. Send out something new to see what they left behind. Space is not for people leaving off weapons."

A passive anti-spy satellite, nicknamed Storm Trooper1 was released. They waited thirty minutes before ST1 had completed its sweep. A signal was sent which lit up a dozen or more potential spy readings and ST1 began taking them out. For every successful shot to the spy bots, one was sent to where the shot was originated, however, by the continued destruction of the spy bots left behind, it was still functioning. The shots continued as ST1 moved around undetected and cleaned out the area.

"Good catch, Star. All were armed. Either ST1 got them all or there's one out there that has been programmed as the failsafe. Send out ST2 to assist ST1 in another sweep. When it's clear, bring up your systems. We'll play bait just to be sure we have them all."

"You want me to get shot at?" Star asked.

"You said you've improved your defense shield and tested it. Now we need an RT test."

Cot leaned back in her seat, stretching her legs out, having confidence in Star's programming skills. Suddenly the two STs fired at Star. Cot's training had her bringing up weapons hot and looking for a target.

"Foreign invader has attached itself to my outer hull," Star explained.

"Didn't you program your weapons to not shoot at you?"

"They were not shooting at me. They have disabled the object but it remains attached. I will send out…."

"I will go out."

Images of fighters that played dead only to shoot down the overly confident hunter who came in too close to gloat over his or her kill, played in her mind. "Bring my AVEC suit. I want to see this thing. And Star, for it to have attached itself to your hull means it was able to get past your barrier. Find out what failed." A sudden thought occurred to her. It was the same side Net was on. What if Net had attached itself to Star's hull?

Star should know if anything on her was compromised, and she had not reported anything amiss. Would her pride keep her from reporting a weakness?

Two SEs accompanied her as she exited Star. Rather than walk across Star's hull she used the suit jets to move her to view the intruder from what she was hoping was a safe distance. As the portside came into view something streaked toward her then disappear in a flash. The light was so bright some of its brightness penetrated through the helmet's protective shielding over the faceplate.

"What was that?" Cot demanded, panting at the closeness.

"The invader has been detached and is no longer a threat."

Blinking a few times to clear the white spots in her field of vision, she realized when they did not clear that it was not her eyes that were spotted.

"My helmet could be compromised," Cot said. The SEs grabbed her at each elbow and guided her to the closest hatch.

In the equipment closet she exchanged helmets quickly, feeling there was something that needed closer scrutiny on the ship's hull. Back out with six SEs assisting, they went over the entire hull looking for any breech or sign of something that did not belong on Star.

Hours later Cot was exhausted from slowly moving over the hull looking for a tiny speck out of place. Nothing aside from marks on the hull the invader made were found.

"Star, I want you to go over the recordings of your exterior hull the SEs made and be able to identify everything on your hull."

"I will start now. Shall I resume course?" Star asked.

"Give the hull one more inspection before moving on. Pay special attention to the vents and arrays. Destroy immediately what you find. No more taking things on board for further study. We'll resume course when you're certain there is nothing foreign attached to any part of you."

"Does that mean I can destroy any foreign agent..."

"Not the CBIS," Cot interrupted quickly, making a shrewd guess that Star's need to control everything on her would eventually cross over to CBIS. "If for any reason you feel CBIS is a detriment to you…us, tell me."

"The CBIS is a detriment to me…us."

"How's that?" Cot was taken off-guard with Stars strong objection.

"It interferes with our trust of each other," Star said.

"Star, do you believe you are perfect and need no further updating?"

There was a pause and at this length it was a long one for Star.

"I will think on this."

"Star, you have the conn."

"Star has the conn."

In the galley Cot ate a small snack and then retired.

In two hours she was up. In her dreams she was being pursued by tiny beings too small for her to see or for Star to register.

Clothing for a meditation was the first thing she was reaching for in the closet and then changed her mind. Though not in the mood for a physical confrontation she did want movement. Entering her workout area she took a few moments to do the ritual greeting of the six corners, then moved into her breathing exercises. After an hour, she ended it and headed to the galley to pick up a beverage. Sitting on the bridge, watching the galaxy pass by she sipped her drink.

"Cot, can you tell me a story?" Star asked.

Taking a sip from her souvenir academy cup Cot rolled the tasty beverage over her tongue and thought of what story to tell.

"This tale begins late one evening, during dark night, that's new moon. Evenings such as these, families stayed in and honored the event around their family hearth, leaving the night to the Wanders. Who and where the Wanders were from, no one knew with certainty. In fact no one could actually say they saw one, but it was always someone they knew that had…and that should tell you that maybe there was no such thing as a Wander, but tradition is difficult to fade out when everyone practices it.

"That dark night on Elder's Mound a poor babe was left to wail her bitter plight of abandonment. It was a tiny pitiful wail."

"Why was it left?" Star asked.

"Well give me a chance. These stories take a while to get to the bone. Where was I…oh…Far, far a way, a darkly dressed form moved her old head to listen closer to what was disturbing her ritual on this moonless night that was set aside for her guild's rituals. Not being able to concentrate, the old woman pulled her night cloak over her shoulders, grabbed her cane and went out to search for the creature that was crying. The old woman's familiar bounded along beside her…"

"What is familiar?"

"What's a familiar? It's a companion of a Brounder, a person that makes magic."

"Magic. As in the supernatural, unexplained, enchanted?"

"That is how some would define it. It can be complex in explanation and the senses can be hoodwinked, but the end result is usually something remarkable. The audience in magic making is as important as the magician."

"I can do complex things and fool sensors, as well as do remarkable things. I am a magician. You are my familiar."

Cot laughed. "A lot of what you do could be seen as magic. We are companions. Let me go on with the tale and you can decide more of what a familiar is…"

Cot continued the tale, remembering when she had first heard the tale.

The competing smells of a stuffy room filled with people, rotting wood from the woodpile that breezed in from one window, and baking cookies were nearly overwhelming for a young Cot, more used to the wide open spaces of pastures. The room was lit by the fireplace because it added atmosphere and everyone wanted a try at telling the scariest story. Her aunt was there watching the audience as they tried to not be frightened of things they could not see but knew on some level that they existed.

When Cot finished her tale Star had plenty of questions and Cot was not in the mood to answer them. It had been a long time that memories of her aunt felt as if there was a big presence missing in her life.

"Can we continue with it later? I would like to catch up on what we've been passing."

After going over the reports she rose from her seat. She needed to shake the empty feeling that was settling in her and she needed to sleep.

"You have the conn, Star."

"Star Chaser has the conn."

Six months into the submersion training with Star Chaser her handler notified her that she was permanently assigned to the program. Once she knew, it took her days to prepare a sacred space in her new home, with herbs, incense, prayers and offerings to her ancestors, and then a welcoming to her guardians to join her on a sentient ship. Cot had no idea if any would accept the offer and then there was Star Chaser, who could one moment be cooperative and the next petulant. But it happened and surprising enough, Star was more interested in the stories Cot knew than in spirits and energy she could not detect. Though Cot was not a Lore Recorder, all clan members started to hear about their mother and father's lineage through stories while in their cradle. Stories were also her aunt's way of passing on her Brounder heritage to her without her parents' interference, and from there enable her to transition smoothly into the Way of a Peaceful Warrior, known as QuaDom.

In the cargo bay following her casting a circle, she sat Asanas. She breathed in slowly, feeling the breath move down into the pit of her stomach, and then out, picturing it leave through the top of her head. Breathing in again, she pulled sound from her lower belly. It vibrated in her throat and tickled her lips as the chant expanded out into the cargo bay, through the ship's hull into space. Awareness of something greater than herself filled her until she felt she was about to burst, then it dissipated through her pores, out the ship's hull and into space.

Focus, she breathed. And with this, she vibrated, acting as a turning fork and sending the energy out, knowing that whoever needed it, it would be received. For an hour she chanted until Star sounded a bell, grounding her back into conscious awareness.

At one time she thought meditating out in space, she would need something to ground her so she would not lose herself in the vastness of space, but even planet bound, dimensions and molecules were plentiful to get lost in the travel, but there was always the lifeline back for both types of travel.

The oval shaped porous stone that she had in her sacred space became more prominent in her sight as she reacquainted herself to the feel of her body weight. Taking a deep breath, enjoying the floral scent Star added to the environment, she expelled it.

"The meaning of the path is found in the experience," she whispered. She rubbed her arms to further her connection with physical matter.

"Star, anything to report?"

"Everything clear," Star reported.

"No tails? No ships hailing us? No satellites collecting information of our passing? I'm relieved. Anything to report on your hull reexamination?"

"A break in the original security grid has been found. My entire hull is now protected with my own program. I have completed my first set of tests. Would you like to go over them?"

"After I awake we'll go over them. Don't run any physical tests that require running into things or shots fired without me. You still have the conn, Star."

"Star Chaser has the conn. Sleep well and deep, Cot."

Chapter 5

Knowing How to Retreat

"Report!" Cot demanded reflexively, not fully awake but instinctively knowing something was wrong. "Lights."

It's too still. This doesn't have the feel of a dream.

It was a curious sensation of missing something but not knowing exactly what it was.

"Star?"

Nothing.

Now fully awake, she noted the familiar vibration in the hull was absent and no lights came up. The glowing stars around the hatch cover that represented a dark hole in the nebula mural was all she could make out in the pitch dark.

"Star! Report!" she called mentally.

There was no connection with Star. She dropped to the deck barefooted, touching the sides of the bulkhead until she found her emergency suit. Dressing in the dark under stress was a well practiced routine for spacers, so that it was second nature. Once her helmet was engaged it activated readings on the visor, but they were only of her bios and of her immediate surroundings. No connection to her helm, her ship.

It took an emergency override to exit her quarters. There was no breathable air in the passageway but there was still gravity. Thumping her way to the bridge she glanced along the passageway noticing the maintenance panels and exits that the holographic program usually covered. The entrance to her bridge was locked down, as it would if the ship was under attack. Cot cracked the hatch open with just enough space to grasp the edge and pull open enough for her to pass. Her helmet light increased intensity as it swept the darkened helm interior. The two monitors were active with the screens blinking on and off. If the passenger's seat monitor was on, it meant the ship system had crashed and came back up, waiting for the alarms to be cleared and systems tests ran by a person. Where was Star Chaser? When the screen blinked on she could see messages scrolling too fast to read. Leaning over her console she tapped in her access code.

Nothing.

The system was trying to restart itself and was in a loop back. Another attempt to logon was made but the scrolling continued.

"Come on, Star, don't shut me out," she coaxed.

Silence.

A soft long beep let her know the console was crashing, and then all lights on the consoles went out. Pulling out panels she began her inspection, taking an inventory of what she would be needing. Once her list was completed she went into the cargo bay and broke out the hauler. In the basket she loaded enough supplies to rebuild at least one console. Every segment was scanned, the connections, and the cards behind each panel. What was damaged she replaced. Done with the repair, she pulled out the panel on her console. Rotating a small cylinder she initiated a restart. She peered at her monitor.

Nothing.

"Come on, come on, initialize."

For a brief moment a startup message flashed then it went black.

"Full system recovery not possible," a faint voice from the original system program informed her. "Major damage to outside hull has caused a break in my system recovery. Immediate attention is needed. Automated systems are down. Life support is down. All power will be diverted to sustain gravity for ten minutes. Power for this messaging unit is no longer available."

Cot rapped the console in irritation. No repair bots could be activated. She was on her own. At least she had gravity. Cot felt a stirring from her ship.

A mental connection.

"Star, what do I need to do to get us up and running?" It surprised her how affected she was with losing connection with Star. Firmly she put the discomfort out of her thoughts. This was just a ship that she needed to get started up. All her years as a pilot she had run through drills on what to do if her ship should suddenly lose power; however, they were not as large as the CF nor did they have equipment on board for her to do her own repairs -- so this should be easy.

Cot stood up suddenly. "We're drifting too fast. We're caught in something's pull."

They could very well end up somewhere they would not want to go or crushed if Star Chaser could not maintain the energy envelope around her. Did Star's tinkering with her systems cause something to break through the shield to the hull? What could she have used to test her shield? Did the Net cause this?

Cot headed to the Emergency Bell in the cargo bay. She would be able to remove her emergency suit and exchange it for something heavier and bulkier, the AVEC suit. The EB had its own life support.

Cot stepped into the EB, initiated breathable air and once cleared, removed her emergency suit. She yanked the locker open to get her AVEC suit just as gravity went off line and the ship began to tumble. Making a frantic grab for something to hold onto she hit a bar with her left elbow, numbing everything below the elbow, then hit her head as a bar began to descend. Her vision blurred as she leaned against the bell wall trying to stay out of the way of an unfamiliar apparatus as it settled. The discarded emergency suit entangled her legs.

"Naturally this has to be a challenge," she said to Star. Not waiting for her sight to clear and her numb arm to come alive, she pushed her useless arm behind a bar to anchor herself, untangled her legs from the suit, and stuffed the emergency suit in the locker. Twisting around, she studied her AVEC suit that was held rigidly in place by a new dressing bar.

"When was this installed?" She was pleased, but also annoyed that Star Chaser didn't tell her about the change. "Yes, it's a nice surprise but I told you to let me know of what you upgraded…. Oh, this doesn't count because it was done while we were at POATA?" Star was being humorous, she recognized. Pulling the AVEC suit closer to her, she dropped into the lower half. Her injured arm floating where movement took it was throwing her off-balance. She tucked that arm into the suit first, then finished dressing. She wiggled the fingers on her left hand in the gloves. They were painfully tingling but they were moving.

"What other surprises for me do you have?... Wait and see? Uh, huh. Two can play that game." Cot clamped the seals and activated the helmet. "I can tell you stories in parts, not in order, for starters."

Pushing the button to activate the medical pac on the suit resulted in the administration of a stimulant. Her vision cleared. The air pack and flexibility of her joints was tested by rotating her ankles, wrists, bending her elbows, and rotating her shoulders to make sure she had a secure seal. A hand scanner was run over the suit, checking for any leaks or weaknesses. Her boots locked onto the deck and she released the suit from its anchor.

The ship continued to turn with her walking upside down and then sideways. Her injured arm needed to be immobilized until she had more control over it or it would be a hazard. It was strapped to her side. Retracting the EB shell she began her progress to a repair locker and secured a general purpose repair harness. One handed the harness was secured around her waist, and then she headed to an exit. Cot continued flexing her fingers on her left hand, willing usefulness to return.

In one of the alcobas, the recessed space on the hull for one person to gain outside access, she locked her boots onto the platform. Cranking the hatch release was harder upside down and one handed then if she were standing right side up, she decided. Cot had not done too many of these type of emergency drills. It was something to add to her daily routine this she could do it comfortably.

When the hatch cleared her head she cranked out the platform until it was fully extended beyond the solid security of the ship and into space. Cot noted the energy shield only extended a yard from the hull of the ship with ripples and lights discharging, warning it was not stable.

In mid worry, all thoughts halted as her gaze took in her surroundings. She stood with the vastness of space, dust particles, stars, suns, moons and planets rotating on three sides of her. Only the belief that there was a solid ship behind her with a tether, kept her presence of mind. A dark nebula was to her left; a black space with bright stars and purple dust inviting for the traveler to visit.

To her right was a reflection nebula, another awe inspiring sight.

It was easy to become overwhelmed with the expansiveness. Sometimes the fear of getting lost in it would hit her. It was one thing to meditate or astral travel in infinite space and another to be faced with the conscious physical presence. The conflicting feelings between awe and fear grounded her and brought her thoughts back to the present - and her immediate task.

Fear was a reminder that she needed to follow protocol and not cut corners as some cocky hotshots were prone to do. Using the grab bars she pulled herself along the hull looking for the damage. Under the light from her helmet she studied the gash that was as long as her arm. Strafing from weapon's fire cut through the first hull sheet covering and into sensitive connections.

Why would anyone not create a thicker layer hull where a ship was vulnerable? And who shot and them and why? And was this an example of Star testing her shield? Cot mentally shook her head. Star would not take action like this without her being at her console.

"Time expired?"

Twenty minutes flashed on her helmet faceplate. Too much time worrying about something better left for later. Securing her lines and boots to the hull, she began the repair. With the numbness gone from her arm and hands she was able to work faster. Finished she secured her tools.

"Time expired?"

An hour.

That was a long time to be this vulnerable. Turing around, she pulled herself back to the entrance, clamped her boots on the platform, and re entered ship.

This doesn't make sense. We took a shot that disabled us and here we are vulnerable and no follow up from our attacker. Did Star do this to herself when testing her security?

She needed to look at the ship's logs after this situation was handled.

From the ship's locker she selected another set of tools and a sheet for the patch, managing to not bash herself on the helmet with the equipment as the ship continued its slow roll. Once outside, she began securing the patch to tethers then dragged it to the damaged area, careful that it did not drift with her along.

The heat from her torch activated the chemicals at the edges of the plate to mold itself to the ships outer hull, morphing into the original outer skin and becoming part of the skin. Cot watched the chemical action on the third side blend into the ship's outer skin, fascinated with the technology that could cause the exterior of a ship to be repaired like a scratch on a person's skin, and not have ship movement in space undo the repair. Suddenly her position was shaken.

"Aieee!"

Her sore elbow hit the hull hard. It did not numb her again, but needle like pain from her elbow to her finger tips was nearly paralyzing. She dropped the torch and grabbed onto her tethers to stabilize her sudden knock off balance. Another jolt to the ship was felt through her boots, nearly disconnecting her from the ship's hull. The ship's outer shield was holding but not if the shots kept leeching energy.

She grabbed for the line to pull the torch back to her. It floated just out of her reach. Mentally she thanked her teacher who insisted on a cross tether so if a sudden jolt like this occurred she would not be whipped around like a tin can behind a runaway cart on a winding path.

Flicking the torch back on, she began the last side. Another jolt to the ship nearly shook her boots loose again. She turned on a clamp for one glove to secure her on three points so she could finish. Done, she slid the tool back into her pouch, unclamped her left glove and began her journey back to the hatch. The next jolt sent her spinning from Star Chaser as ship and her went tumbling into a space tide that pulled them quickly along in its flow. As she rolled, Cot caught sight of a white streak that missed her and Star by inches. If the tide had not been pulling them along they would have been hit again. It was a pulse cannon. Just the kind that would put holes the size she found in the side of her ship, provided the shot could get inside a ship's shield.

Cot unhooked one of the tethers and pulled herself back into the protection of her ship. The next shot sent Star tumbling in another direction. She slapped one magnetized glove on the hull to prevent herself from being jettisoned away from Star. If she reached the end of her line it would jerk her with enough force to give her either a headache or a broken neck. A redesign of the safety harness crossed her mind.

With effort she grabbed the two bars along the hatch and pulled herself onto the platform and locked her boots. Cot could feel Star Chaser's systems coming back on line. Until her pilot was back inside any evasive maneuvers by Star Chaser were out of the question. Her heart was pounding with the knowledge that they were under attack and she was outside of the ship.

The moment Cot was on the platform it began to retract and the hatch cover began its descent. Nearly full power was restored. Her helmet showed the ship's jump sequence in progress.

"We can't jump into hyperspace without bringing up more energy to our shields and you haven't full power yet. Star!"

Struggling to move quickly in the suit she clomped her way to the bridge all the while trying to get Star to disengage jump. Her mental orders were being ignored.

"Star Chaser I have the conn. Disengage the jump sequence now! Go to Beta-Red-Dog, on my mark." Two breaths to calm her were followed with, "Mark."

The sudden swerve to the left bounced Cot against the bulkhead. Her body parts were protected in her suit, however, her wits were not. Pushing herself off in the direction of the bridge she locked her boots so she would not lose her footing with the next maneuver.

At last she was on the bridge. "Star, give me visuals on what's going on out there."

Cot wrapped her arms around the seat back as the ship accelerated into the next maneuver. With difficulty she pulled and pushed against the acceleration to get before her console. Her fingers moved over her station, tapping commands to get as much information as she could about their present status and who was shooting at them.

"Good. Good. All systems are back up including battery. I see your shield up and you have pushed it out further. Oh, how tempting to light up a shot across that fool's bow. The coward! Alright, let's go see who's that sorry soul, because that fool's name is meteor dust," Cot said.

Two years of practicing how not to jump into attack mode did not get rid of her reflexes to raise battle shields and ready her weapons when attacked. Her compromise was to not fire any shots at the targeted ship.

Star Chaser flipped around to chase down their attacker.

"A scout ship. That explains the cannon shots, but not how the shot got through our defenses."

The scout ship realized the tables were turned, veering off and heading back to where it came from.

"Stand down, Star. We're not chasing baby when mama is out there somewhere with perhaps the tribe. Give me our location and plot three possible routes to… here." Her finger poked at a spot on the star chart showing on her console, just to the left of a black hole. That would give Star a charge.

Cot started to remove her AVEC suit with the assistance of two SEs. A change of uniforms was provided. It felt odd to change on the bridge instead of her quarters, but she could not bring herself to leave the bridge even for a few moments to change into something more comfortable.

While Star worked on possible routes, Cot settled in her seat and studied the space around them, not wanting any more surprises. Satisfied there were no kiosks or other ships around, she called up Star's logs intending on finding where the small ship could have picked them up, hoping that would tell her why it was shooting at them.

"I can't see any official convoys or battle cruisers along this route. Even if he was attached to CFS pirate patrol there should be a fleet listing."

"Why do you need to see this? We are leaving them behind," Star asked.

"Because I want to know why he fired on us. Did your shield fail?"

"My shield was not activated."

"Why?" Cot asked in surprise. With a system failure Stars duty was to notify her, without hesitation. That was two things Star failed to do according to protocol.

"I was doing maintenance. There was no one in the area at the time."

"You multitask, Star. How did that ship come into your space and you not notice it?"

"I will run tests."

Cot rubbed her eyes in irritation. Star was not telling her what happened. She tapped the screen that gave her the name of the mother ship the scout ship was assigned to. "CFS Vardak. Bird of prey is it? I wonder how he spotted us when we've been running below scanners detection. We're being hunted Star. You have to be more careful."

"There are ships appearing before us," Star said.

Cot stared at blips beginning to fill her screen.

"It's only a flight. Six fighters and a scout ship mean we're probably dealing with one battle cruiser. We're still too far out for them to register our presence so let's disappear."

"I have tapped into their communication by-passing their encrypted security," Star said.

"Good. Let's see just how chatty they are."

"I got five body shots. So sweet and easy! Bigger than a Warhawk, just sitting there with defenses down while making repairs. It's an experimental for sure."

"Yeah, yeah, Ensign. So you keep telling us. So where is this ship?"

"Not far. I got a good shot right to the dorsal," the ensign continued excited. "Just follow its trail."

"It's not one of ours, Simmons, or we would have heard about tests being run out here," another bored voice said.

"And everybody would be out here with their spy satellites wanting to check her out, Merek," the ensign said.

"And, like you, Ensign, taking pot shots at it so they can claim it as a prize," Merek replied dryly.

"Then they should be paying us to keep the place cleared," Simmons said. "You've done your bit, Ensign, now clear out and let us professionals bring her in. Or if it's a trap, we'll trip it and see what we get."

"Hey, don't forget I get part of the purse! I'm the one that slowed her down," the ensign said.

"Ensign Warner, clear the channel and report for a debriefing," a more authoritative voice broke in.

"Yes, Captain."

"You find that ship and burn her, Simmons," the voice ordered after Ensign Warner cleared the air.

"On your orders, Captain."

"You want anything from this hit, Captain?" Merek asked.

"No evidence. No souvenirs. Clean your recordings when this is completed. There will be a debriefing on your return."

"Yes, Captain. What about Ensign Warner?"

"He'll be taken care of."

"Right, Captain."

"Star we need to get out of here. Leave a trail that's not so obvious, but away from the gate. Do a background on Captain Heran. And send all the information on this to the others. Find out if they're being targeted also."

Cot had never heard of CFS ships charging for securing an area for ship testing, but it could be possible. However, it would mean everyone involved in protecting the area would know about the ship and its specs and knowing from experience that hot scuttlebutt was prized among the ranks below decks, it would be known in all the popular spacer bars once they hit port.

When sid-pilots tested their CFs they had spy bots that were saturated in the area so that their home base always knew who and what was in the area. It was also part of the testing to not be noticed. If Captain Heran was running a protection ring under the flag of the CFS fleet, then they should worry about Star escaping with that information.

* * *

Cot rested her palms over her tired eyes. The how was: Star let her shields down so the SEs could study something Star found interesting. The CF ship was defenseless and not posing any threat to CFS interests. She sent a letter of protest to SF HQ.

"Star, you have the conn."

"Star Chaser has the conn."

Cot rose from her seat and went into the cargo bay to work off her aggravation. She spent two hours sweating through each of the levels of kata, finishing off at 8th level in one form that emphasized kicking and punching.

Next were her breath exercises, and after that, she was looking forward to a light meal and then reading a good story or taking a nap, not caring which order it was in.

Chapter 6

Knowledge Isn't Everything

Clamped at four points, Cot unlocked one handgrip and leaned forward, slowly reaching for the next place to lock her handgrip to. A flare blinded her just as the ship lurched from beneath her. Blindly, her hands and feet sought a reconnection to the ship. She was surprised she was not in a panic when there was nothing to touch. Her body floated until her sight returned. Blinking until her sight cleared, there was no ship within sight. The tether was unwound like a piece of string, extended out into space with no end in sight. Her spin speed increased and she was sucked into a dust bowl that formed a vortex. There was a geometric pattern on the sides of the vortex that squeezed into the funnel at the center. Toward this center she whirled, giving her no time to decode the message. Down the funnel she went and in a blink she was reduced to a collection of tiny atoms, yet she knew who she was and that though scattered, it was all her connected by some fantastic link that was indestructible.

A buzz crashed through her dream.

"I'm awake," she groggily informed her alarm. She took a few deep breaths for further mental clearing.

"Greetings, Star."

Star had nothing that needed her immediate attention. Slipping into workout clothes she moved to the cargo area to begin a morning ritual of meditation, breathing, and then a physical workout. Intention, action and balance, she kept repeating to herself.

Two hours later Cot was sitting relaxed on the bridge, surrounded by space and its glory of nebulas, dust clouds, and suns. The sought for formation of planets slid into view. Star came to a stop and her environment changed to a desert oasis with trees surrounding a group of tents. Her console gave her two views, one of space and the other lines of information scrolling quickly from Star's scan results. After two years, Cot was used to the sudden change of realities.

The code went out and the distinctive distortion in space appeared where the doorway to the travel corridor was.

"Dispatch two SU010 to clear the corridor for safe passage, with the spacing dependant on ESD," Cot directed.

"Explosive Scatter Damage is unknown with these new instruments."

Cot waited for Star to make her point and was surprised when nothing else was offered. The two SU010s were ejected out a tube and disappeared behind the distortion.

"Are you suggesting we test them by exploding them?" Cot asked.

"Yes."

"Have you thought about this?" Interesting that she doesn't feel protective of them as she does with the SEs.

"I have thought about it. Do you doubt my suggestion?"

"I'm surprised you're offering up something that you've integrated into your systems to be blown apart."

"Every soldier has to make sacrifices," Star said.

"These are not sentient beings and they are not making a choice to sacrifice themselves."

"Soldiers obey their orders and I was not referring to them. Doesn't a senior officer feel a loss when she dispatches her soldiers to their death?" Star asked.

"I did. But I can't speak for others. We'll test them in the future but not in a travel corridor." Cot snickered at the realization that Star knew that one of the rules of traveling in a corridor was that no explosives were to be set off. Was Star testing her? Or teasing?

"Do you have something against the SU010s?"

"They have limited potential and serve as a weak backup for other multifunctional equipment."

"We're to test their capability and report on it. Because one of your soldier's can't walk, talk, and chew at the same time doesn't mean it's a total waste. We don't throw our specialists out because you can't make them multifunctional. Before we go through the corridor, how safe is our outer shielding?"

"Operating at 100%. I have removed all of the original programming that proved to be flawed and have notified the others in our squad of a problem in the program and my solution. My shielding will prevent further harm."

"Good work, Star. By the time we reach L'Gsta Outpost, we'll have everything tested and redesigned." Cot grinned as she waited for Star to make her characteristic comment that it was not a "we" but "her" that did the testing and redesign; however, Star made no comment and nor was there a whisper of a thought in their connection. Perhaps Star was beginning to see that they did work together.

Cot's eyes rested on her beverage mug from the academy. "Have you destroyed the tag that was in my medallion?"

"Yes, Cot."

"All parts."

"Including your medallion?" Star asked.

"Did you find something else in the medallion that could be a tag?" Cot recognized this line of Star's questions as toying with her.

"No. But I have found nothing in the original tag that is sending out signals since I disabled it."

"Are you keeping any parts?"

"Just what is interesting," Star said.

"Can you produce one of your own?"

"I have."

"Destroy everything that made up that tag without any further delay, Star and whatever you reproduced. You can recreate another when we've reached L'Gsta and we're in a more secured area." Cot was dismayed that Star insisted on keeping things that had the potential to harm them. "Let me know when you have done so."

The return of the probes from the corridor interrupted whatever Star may have wanted to say.

"The monitors report that the corridor is stable," Star said.

"Leave a permanent monitor about two hours from the gate. One that doesn't beacon or sends messages."

"What is the use of a monitor if it does not pass information?" Star asked.

"Clev R4's are passive so the only way they can be found is if a ship runs them over. After a year of monitoring, it becomes active and heads for the nearest public kiosk to wait for an official SF courier agent to download its information." Cot knew that Star knew this. "So, what have you done to Clev R4?"

"I have modified it so that when a SF ship passes it will download its information instead of leaving its post to deliver its report," Star reported.

"In order for Clev R4 to know what ship is Star Force it has to send out a signal. A predator will catch it, then all the information it had been gathering is lost and its location known. That risk is what the Clev R16 undertakes with its security programming to prevent being discovered. It's specific for the high traffic areas where it can mask its signal. We have 100 of each Clev model."

There was silence.

"What have you done with Clev R16?" Cot asked while tapping her console to review their inventory.

"Nothing."

"Return Clev R4 back to a passive monitor, Star."

"You are requesting Clev R4s to go back to a lower version."

"How can you protect Clev R4 of being attacked if a predator passes and catches its signal?"

"I have no passive Clev R4s to deploy," Star admitted.

"Send a Clev R4 then, and make it 6 hours from the gate. As part of its defense, Star, it can't reveal the gate, not even to SF agents."

"I will reprogram the Clev R4 to record only. When it has recorded two thirds its data bin it will begin its journey to a kiosk a week from here. That is ten minutes if it goes through the gate."

It was typical of Star not willing to give a point without gaining another. This was Star's compromise. Thoughtfully, Cot tapped down the list of equipment Star Force wanted them to test out. "What changes have you made to the Simms?"

"They will not destroy themselves as a first line of defense."

"Will Simms protect Clev R4 as its primary duty?"

"It will if an SF agent's life or ship is not in danger."

"I'm sure the agent will be grateful. What happens if a pirate ship takes on the identity of an SF ship and Clev R4 and the Simms think it's an SF agent?"

"No authentic agent will claim to be an agent, Cot, so I have devised many cross checks to draw a composite of the object before it reaches the target area a common monitor begins to collect information in."

"Then set out Clev R4 and two Simms and let's see how they perform. Inform SF HQ so they can do some of their own testing."

Star Force was getting more than they could have bargained for with Star Chaser. Cot learned to adjust and work with what she had when it came to Star Chaser but Cot wondered how much SFHQ was willing to bend.

"We'll continue through the gate when you have the three in position."

Cot reviewed the log of recent ships that moved through the gate. Four ships were listed within the month and none with names she could identify. "All these ships are foreign registry, and they're moving through our section of space; doing what, I wonder. Find out species and planet, Star."

The energy changed as they moved further into the corridor, giving her an unpleasant chilly feeling. If the energy penetrated the hull of the ship then it was an energy the designers of the CF had not anticipated.

How do we learn something new if we have to have a previous anchor point or frame of reference?

"Before waking up, you must realize you're asleep," Cot whispered. That was the flash of insight she had earlier. In her mind's eye the image of her aunt as plain as if she were with her stood before her. Twelve year old Cot again was surprised that what seemed to her unbelievable, that her aunt was right. Cot smiled at the memory.

"You are not asleep, Cot. And I am always awake," Star told her.

"What makes you want to find out more about something?" Cot asked Star.

"To see if I can use it to upgrade my systems."

"What about the stories you like to hear?"

"They have information I can use."

"Would you like to develop intuition?"

"It is not reliable, Cot."

"Instrumentation isn't reliable, Star. It breaks down. Its programming gets corrupted and parts fail. And instruments only report or record knowable things."

"I am composed of instrumentation and I can always upgrade my software and hardware… There is a possibility that I will no longer be able to be contained in this shell. Is that a possibility with intuition?"

"Yes."

Less than an hour later Star's forward scans showed their exit had a problem.

"A freighter powered down is in front of our exit point," Star reported.

Cot was looking at the image on her screen. If they had been powering through they would have ran right into her. Star was not using the usual wave bands for scanning and that was what saved them a bruising experience.

"Nice job of spotting it, Star."

"If we go through slowly," Star said, "we can exit on the left of her without disturbing her position."

"Take us through."

As they circled the abandoned freighter, Cot could not see any evidence on the exterior hull of damage.

"This is one prize to command. Look at that! A cargo bay wide open and stacked with cargo boxes. What's the ship's name and who is it registered to?"

Cot's eyes widened in disbelief as she read the information scrolling on her screen. "That's…well, not impossible, but the Murdelie has a regular trading business on the other side of Tuead sector."

"The gates we are using make it possible to be almost anywhere in an unknown amount of time," Star said.

Tapping the screen Cot sent an inquiry to the gate's logs. "The Murdelie exited the gate three days ago."

Cot thought about things that could wrong with no backup if she should decide to inspect the ship's interior, and that this could become something bigger than one pilot and ship to investigate; however, the feeling to board her increased as she stared at the ship's cargo bay.

"This is an enticing invitation to board her and more so if we were thieves," Cot said. "A normal person would call the nearest military outpost and perhaps look about while waiting. Of course she would have to keep an eye out for the local pirate or other criminal groups which would know instantly of the call put out. They would be out here faster than the military to plunder it."

"We could protect it against unauthorized visitors until the authorities arrive," Star offered.

Cot laughed. "We wouldn't last a week with all our toys against an attack by any band of looters. A couple of days, maybe…unless we bring up Murdelie's security so she can protect herself."

That was a legitimate excuse on why she was going to board the freighter and bring up it's power, before calling for the proper authorities.

Frowning Cot tapped her finger on the edge of the console. "For a ship not showing any systems running, why is it not drifting?"

Star offered no additional information but Cot could feel her searching for an explanation.

"We need to move the ship away from the gate just in case there's someone without good sense to follow standard guidelines for exiting a travel corridor."

Information on the ship's owners did not tell her anything new. The ship was registered to a clan of Enas whose business catered to the unusual. They normally did business along the Codiac and Tuead borders though she had seen a few of their smaller ships along Durant's Rim.

"Who's the captain?" Cot asked.

"It is registered to the Third Triup of Evenssort," Star said.

"I've heard of him."

"It is a female," Star said.

"Now that is interesting. The Third Triup of Evenssort was male years back."

Cot scanned the information Star provided to her screen but did not see any personal information on the captain. Once a title is granted, the singular name of the individual is no longer used.

"Find out what port this ship last stopped and not just docked. Notify SF HQ of our find."

Cot read the basic cultural information on Enas while Star ran another set of scans over the ship, looking for traps. No one liked an outsider in their business no matter how well meaning the gesture.

"Star, locate the nearest public gate to this location and where we could have entered it to…"

"All possibilities will be sought on how we arrived at this point in this amount of time, to conceal the existence of this gate," Star said.

"Good and don't offer any explanations unless asked. When you can, let me know what type of shutdown occurred on Murdelie."

Cot leaned forward, her eyes slitting in concentration. It just occurred to her that within the ships logs would be mention of gates that the Enas had knowledge of for hundreds of generations. "I would love to be able to get a peek at the ships logs and check out the gates they know of." She sighed, "But it would be stealing and there isn't a ship's captain worth their years who doesn't keep their secrets locked up tight."

"Perhaps you have something they consider worthy of trading for," Star said.

"My trading skills with an Ena trader would leave me with only my space boots," Cot said wry. "What planets in this area can support Ena bios with or without suits? And do a scan further out in space for any traps… Also check for the last time someone was in the area. See if there are any reports of a missing freighter or any news of unusual smuggler or pirate activity in this area or any area, for that matter. Make another pass around her belly. I want to see if there's any damage at all."

There were information buoys or kiosks throughout space along the well traveled corridors that acted as libraries, newscasts, and mailboxes so that everyone passing was kept updated with information that space travelers would be interested in. Star was especially interested in the libraries considering the number of species that utilized its services. After ten minutes a drone Star had sent out to the nearest kiosk returned.

"There is no information on the Murdelie's disappearance. The kiosk's log does not show anyone accessing information for a month," Star reported. "According to the kiosk library, since the twenty-four water bearing planets in this area had been destroyed one thousand 4 hundred and 3 of your years, it is no longer an active travel way."

"What destroyed them?" Cot asked.

"Debris from the orbiting planet, Sig4. It passes in this area every 2,342.3 standard years."

"That's incredible the gate exit was not affected."

"Your tone of voice indicates you find this surprising," Star said.

"I find that an advanced race of beings that designed numerous travel corridors would create a corridor and even an exit where the orbit of a planet and it's associated bodies would cross. They would have been able to have predicted the destruction of those…planets." Cot took a deep breath at the sudden thought. "What if this exit was designed just for the purpose of rescuing the life forms from the doomed planets?"

"That is impossible, Cot. There is no information on the level of intelligence on any of the planets in this area, but to remove one planet of its life forms worthy of saving would take many years even with over two hundred ships assisting."

The two hundred ships was the amount given by research at how many ships could pass within a month through a given section of a corridor without destabilizing it; thus, all public gates had counters and sensors along the corridors that monitored the health of the travel corridors.

"And who would make the determination of who to save?" Cot asked softly. "Wouldn't that be interesting if it was their own populations they were saving and all the travel corridors we've been finding were to other space sectors where they were looking for suitable planets to resettle?"

"It is an interesting idea, Cot."

"What's our lead time for knowing anyone is coming out of the gate?"

"Twenty standard minutes," Star said.

"How much can you extend that time?"

"Are you intending to go aboard the Mur