Chapter 5

LIBERTY 72, above Roata 2, at 540 Light Years from Earth in the direction of the Galactic Core

            The Trucowl ship had pulled up alongside LIBERTY 72 as they both orbited 17,500 miles over the main city of the planet, moving in synchronization with the main capitol city of the planet. The groundwork for the coming Astenfaji attack was well underway. For now, the alien attack was limited to a strategy of pre-staging ships from the rapidly arriving convoys high in the atmosphere and in well-spaced locations in the planet’s oceans. The crew of LIBERTY 72 had given a great deal of thought as to the puzzle as to why so many Astenfaji had passed their ship at such a close range without scanning the Earth ship, and without firing a single shot at them. They had confirmed by long range Space Displacement Sensors that some convoys had broken ranks to head for Nunki Resort, which contained small populations of humans. Some others were headed past this planet on a new course for Tau Sag, which had the huge population center of North American military forces. The Astenfaji here, the Trucowls and Kogure both believed, would form the rear flank of the attack on Tau Sag, and then Earth.

           Having the Te-SAL-Dar-ADLAMUR next to LIBERTY 72 gave this ship some protection that was lacking for LIBERTY 95, this crew was now learning. In fact, it was hoped, the Astenfaji would infer an alliance that did not exist with LIBERTY 72 by the close contact with an ancient Astenfaji ally, the Trucowls.

           In record time, Fioha Secowm and Teresa Sanchez had studied the hard-link records database that had been transferred from the ship’s new LLS Delta to the Computer Lab located in the Command Moat under Carr’s and Rivers’ Apartments. Periodically Monique Rivers would join them, before returning to the Mission Control Center to continue emergency broadcasts to the planet begging the residents to leave the planet and seek safe harbor in the Delta Sag star system, a star system with one known inhabitable planet that had never been colonized, and also a planet that seemed to be of no interest to the Astenfaji.

           Rivers had ordered her crew to be prepared to evacuate as many people as could not be transported by the local domestic interstellar transportation on Roata 2. There were significant ships here from Earth, all capable of evacuating the estimated 185,000 human settlers from Roata 2 to Delta Sag 3, 55,000 of those humans living in the main city below. Although she had sent nearly continuous messages over emergency channels to the planet, it was estimated that fewer than 50 ships had left, carrying only an estimated 2,000 people to their new homes. Most of those ships were in rural areas, leaving less than full, and hearing the broadcasts from Rivers through the relay of Class B Survey Drones on the other side of the planet. Rivers knew fully well that once the locals would take her message seriously, in the full understanding of the serious nature of her warning, there would be no time to evacuate many, if any of the locals, and anyone who attempted to lift off during the Astenfaji attack would be attacked, and destroyed – just like what had apparently happened at Suaner 4.

           In fact, Rivers had lost her appetite and was physically nauseated in reaction to what she had seen extricated from the mirror computer images that had automatically been downloaded from LIBERTY 95. Upon hearing of the imminent return of LLS Bravo, carrying Victor Martin, Debbie Hernandez-Martin, Yukiko Kogure, Lisa Stewart, and Jonas Bu’Tan from a trip to retrieve them from the Trucowl Flagship, she made a point to meet them and bring them first to the Command Moat where the recorded devastation of Suaner 4 could be presented to them as well. Rivers knew that within hours, the same thing would happen to Roata 2 below them, and in time Tau Sag, and then Earth.

* * *

           In the Large Landing Shuttle Bay, a great number of bells and whistles were presented as honors to the arriving dignitaries once the Partition could be dropped as air surrounded the vehicle. The hatch opened, and Victor Martin was the first to notice that although the greeting was short of the traditional level of accompanying honor guards and ancient customs due the North American President with them, there may be a reason for that. LIBERTY 72 had been seriously changed in its time since leaving Earth, and there was an LLS Delta aboard this ship now, but no LLS Alpha. They were met by Rivers and Teresa Sanchez.

           “Where is Captain Carr, Miss Rivers?”

           “That,” said Rivers, “may take some explaining, Admiral Martin.”

           “He is on the planet, with LLS Alpha?” Martin suggested.

           “Actually, Antonio and Antonia DiNyro are with LLS Alpha,” explained Rivers, wondering if she could find some way to make her report sound better than it would. She could not. “Captain Carr, before his reports to LLS Alpha stopped about ten Earth hours ago,  was last known to be in some kind of a bar or nightclub in the main city, apparently attempting to leave with some woman he had met there.”

           Bu’Tan chuckled. “That sounds exactly like Joe Carr,” he said. Lisa Stewart was not as amused.

           “I honestly can’t believe Liberty Enterprises has survived this long,” she said. “Admiral Martin, I order you to take command of this ship.”

           “Actually,” said Martin, “that’s not a bad idea,” said Martin as he turned to Stewart, “but because I think it is a good idea – not because you think it is.”

           “This is within your right as Admiral in charge of the Liberty Fleet,” said Rivers.

           “Yes, it is,” said Martin. “Jonas Bu’Tan will support my decision, if you have any questions.”

           “I have none,” said Rivers. “However, I hereby inform you that if you take command, I will vacate my position as your First Officer. I can not serve two masters at once, even if you are the master of my master.”

           “You have that right, Monique,” said Martin, knowing how hard-headed Rivers had always been. “But, I do need the galaxy’s best Weapons Officer.”

           “You’ll have her,” said Rivers, with an understanding smile as Martin turned to Kogure.

           “Well, Yukiko, I need a First Officer. Do you want your job back?”

“No. I think Joe Carr would serve you well with impressive abilities far beyond mine. I already have a job – Trucowl Ambassador to Earth. Remember?”

           “I see,” said Martin. “So you can’t serve two masters, either?”

           “Exactly.”

           “Okay, I anticipate the hour of my First Officer – from wherever he is, with whoever he is.”

           Rivers turned to Sanchez. “Log for the official records my resignation as First Officer, and the preceding assumption of command of LIBERTY 72 by Victor Martin, effective immediately. Mark the change-of-command ceremony conducted in absentia. All standing orders from Captain Carr remain duly in effect until modified, revoked or implemented by Admiral Martin.” Ranger Sanchez merely nodded, with a tear in her eye. She had already seen too much drama today, and this development was not making things better for her. “Now, if you will follow me – I have something very important to show you.”

* * *

           In the Computer Room, a very different Fioha Secowm from the one known to the new arrivals gave a concise and terrifying report of what had happened at Suaner 4, and to LIBERTY 95’s crew. It was now clear that a renegade from Roata 2 had flown LIBERTY 95 to Roata 2, only to escape on a Large Landing Shuttle when seeing the Trucowl Flagship, as an automated LIBERTY 95 then led the Trucowls on a wild chase to Phi Sag. The departure of two of six Escape Capsules from a LIBERTY 95 LLS under attack was logged, as was the destruction of that LLS, but the fate of them on Suaner 2 was not measured by the LLS computers.  It was presumed that by now, anyone alive then was dead by now.

           Finally, upon seeing in person what the Astenfaji did to Suaner 4, Lisa Stewart finally admitted that the losses her military forces would face in a battle at Tau Sag were too much for her political survival. She knew it would be impossible to evacuate North America, and that the best she could do is hope in the insinuated promise by Kogure that a way could be devised to steer the Astenfaji clear from Earth. But she also knew that with all of the combined forces of the Astenfaji and Trucowls that would attack Earth, the end result for Earth would be no different than for Gamsosa 3 or Suaner 4 – total obliteration of all life on the surface, in the oceans, and in the air. Through a communications link through the Trucowl Flagship, she used the top security reliability checksum codes to authenticate that she was who she claimed to be. Then, ordered an immediate and complete evacuation of all Wind Force Squadrons from Tau Sag, to reposition not to Earth, but to Eta Sag.

           “That was very brave of you, Lisa,” said Bu’Tan, who was actually developing a fine rapport with Stewart, and melting her icy façade to find a warm and loving person with many of the same interests in her private life that he shared.

           “Do you know what I don’t get, Jonas?” she said. “Why does the destruction trail almost go straight down a straight line until the Astenfaji reached the Suaner Star System, where the first humans from Earth were reached? I mean look – they’ve suddenly zigzagged all over the map within the last thousand light years of Earth, yet they’re passing completely over some star systems like Eta Sag. Do you have any idea?”

           “I do,” said Debbie Hernandez-Martin. “From what I’ve glimpsed from Fioha’s presentation on sidebars I’m not sure anyone else caught, Earth has always had a special place in the Astenfaji hearts, for better or for worse. The Astenfaji were on Earth – in the Mediterranean at one time.”

           “Yes, but how did you know, Deb?” asked Secowm, realizing that she may have made a huge mistake by marking her notes along the side of her presentation that she had assumed no one but her would ever understand.

           “I’ve made it a point to learn how to read the Trucowl language in the last few years. I was just trying to be friendly,” said Hernandez-Martin, “to improve relations with an admired ally.”

           “So what’s up?” asked her husband.

           She turned to Secowm. “The Isvarala can’t touch me,” she said in a private code of understanding to the new Queen of Trucowl 5, “and I hope they won’t touch you, my respectable friend.”

           “Me too,” said Secowm, shocked at the extent of what Hernandez-Martin had learned, which could be much worse in consequences than had she simply read Fioha’s diary. She had learned things that could equate to inner secrets of Trucowls that most Trucowls would never learned without dying in the process of discovering these facts – or moving to Stage Four as a young Isvarala. “Proceed with caution – please.”

           “I shall, my very dear friend Fioha,” said Debbie Hernandez-Martin. “I did not realize you had presumed I could never read your writing.”

           “My penmanship has always been lacking,” Secowm explained as she shivered in Trucowl laughter.

           “Fioha’s notes make note of an ancient Astenfaji presence in the Mediterranean. Access the records of the 2153 discovery of that so-called series of shipwrecks dating back to about 1300 B.C. off the coast of Crete.” Within seconds, Secowm brought up the records to which Debbie Hernandez-Martin was referring. “The writing was believed to be the same type of Linear-B that had evolved around that same timeframe in Greece. In fact, the writing was actually Astenfaji, as were the artifacts that were recovered – from what little remained in the wreckage of the underwater city Atlantis that was pulverized – deliberately by the Astenfaji as they left Earth. Earthquakes that in short order would destroy the human civilization that had flourished for so long could never be tied to the Astenfaji departure – even today – but the timing is suspect.”

           “So beyond the common written language,” asked Jonas Bu’Tan, “how can it be proved that humans and Astenfaji had any contact at all?”

           “Because,” said Debbie Hernandez-Martin, “we know the names of some of their leaders – or more specifically their job titles. Their leader is named Neptune in the Roman translation, but even today in the Astenfaji language the word used to describe the leader is Poseidon. Almost all of the job titles or social functions exist today in the mythology of the Roman and Greek so-called gods. It so happens that if we can reconstruct the Linear-B language, it will be possible for us to actually communicate with the Astenfaji.”

           “So what you’re suggesting,” said Yukiko Kogure, “is that we ask them directly why they’re heading to destroy some inhabitable planets while sparing others?”

           Here, Hernandez-Martin wisely chose to use some editorial discretion, not wanting Fioha Secowm to suddenly disappear into Isvarala existence. “The mortal enemies of Trucowls, from the earliest recorded Trucowl history are the Isvarala. This is why Trucowls will turn against us once we – including those of us on LIBERTY 72 engage the Astenfaji – because Astenfaji are an ancient ally of the Trucowls as we all know. The point is, the Astenfaji believe that many Isvarala have finally arrived to catch the Astenfaji, and the planets the Astenfaji believe the Isvarala occupy are the ones that are being specifically targeted by the Astenfaji – including Nunki Resort, Tau Sag, and yes, even Earth.”

           “So maybe we should form an alliance with the Isvarala,” said Stewart.

           “We have no time to build a friendship, I fear,” said Bu’Tan, “in time to save Earth or any of the other planets – and with a capability of both the Astenfaji or Trucowls to easily and effortlessly destroy Earth virtually at will, I am not sure the unproven capabilities of the Isvarala, when added to ours, would amount to anything.”

           “Exactly,” said Victor Martin. “Yuki, you’ve been with the Trucowls for a while. Fioha, you’ve been with us for a while. What exactly do we need to do to save Earth?”

           “I’ll be glad to answer that, too,” said Debbie Hernandez-Martin, to avoid conflicts in allegiances from either of the two that her husband had questioned. “There is already an ambassador to the Astenfaji – me. I actually know Linear-B quite well, as well as all forms of ancient and modern Greek that are not so far removed in spoken structure. There is an ambassador to the Isvarala – our good friend Fioha Secowm. Because of Precepts, she will not be allowed to talk to them, so I will privately meet with her in a way that will assure her safety.” Debbie Hernandez-Martin knew, from reading the Trucowl’s notes, that the Queen of Trucowl 5 was dead, Fioha was the new Queen, and that in fact she was lying to protect Fioha. She knew that Secowm in fact was easily able to communicate with the Isvarala and would in fact be the one making the required coordination with them. “The true goal of the Astenfaji is to merely reach NGC-2168, an open star cluster 2,200 light years towards the outer rim of the galaxy from Earth. It is not necessary for the Astenfaji to get there by conventional linear means, Suboptic or Superoptic.”

           “So what do you suggest?” asked Jonas Bu’Tan. “That we ask the Isvarala to relocate from planets they’re on so that the Astenfaji can chase them in a wide circle around Earth?”

           “No,” said Fioha Secowm. “That, President Bu’Tan, is a choice that will not work. The Astenfaji do not destroy planets necessarily because Isvarala are there. They destroy them out of fear that the Isvarala might possibly find them of use to them. Such is the deep hatred Astenfaji have had for Isvarala since ancient times. Nunki Resort, Tau Sag, and Earth are already in the Astenfaji crosshairs not because of a hate of humans, but because of a hate for Isvarala. The Isvarala have never, in all of recorded history, come so close to the Astenfaji as to even get ahead of them. The Isvarala are here to make peace at least with the Astenfaji. The Astenfaji are not interested.”

           “So why are Eta Sag, Delta Sag, and Lambda Sag spared? They all seem to have nice planets that humans and Isvarala could both call home.”

           “That is an excellent question, Ambassador Kogure,” said Secowm. “It is a matter of asset management.”

           “Well,” said Monique Rivers, “We really do need a Plan B – and at last report Antonio DiNyro, our king of Plan B’s, is still on the planet.”

           “It is simply a matter of the mathematical formula,” said Secowm. While it is complex algorithm beyond the greatest achievements of your best human scientists,” she announced, “through Trucowl mathematics, we can move the Astenfaji to NGC-2168 without even a single Astenfaji ship reaching Earth.”

           “The Queen of Trucowl 5 promised that you could,” Yukiko Kogure said, not even realizing that she had died. “She sent me here for that mission, with inadequate information exactly how to accomplish that mission. She told me that because of Precepts, I would not even be able to ask for you to volunteer this solution, but I am overjoyed that you have.”

           The new Trucowl Queen shivered in Trucowl laughter. “That is very much her style. We need to use every diplomatic effort at our disposal to get both the Astenfaji and Isvarala to a place where they can be in close proximity to the essential destruction of a star system. It is too late for Tau Sag or Nunki Resort, but I sincerely believe as Debbie suggests that through diplomacy, we can give the Astenfaji an offer they can’t refuse – to take perhaps years off their transit time including all of the rest and refueling stops along the way which can now be avoided. If we can convince them that they can be in NGC-2168 by the end of the week, they’ll be very much interested in it.”

           “Exactly what kind of power is needed to destroy a star system,” said Victor Martin, “and exactly what star system do you have in mind to offer to Neptune’s gods in exchange for sparing Earth?”

           “A uniquely Victoresque question,” said Secowm. “Admiral Vic – sir. We would require the combined forces of a Trucowl flagship’s destruction under physics parameters not unlike what destroyed Otaw 4 for the granular matter required to destroy a star and funnel its potential and kinetic energies to power a temporary vortex, and we would require a ship from Liberty Enterprises to explode under parameters set into the CAR Processors by a Trucowl algorithm, perhaps within a failed star or brown dwarf, all to create a gateway across space and time that would end in NGC-2168, virtually instantaneously.”

           “So,” said Lisa Stewart, “if I read you right, you want to blow up this ship and the one next to us to create some sort of tunnel directly from this part of space to where the aliens are headed. I’m not quite sure I signed up for that.”

           “You didn’t,” said Victor Martin, understanding exactly where the wise Trucowl Fioha Secowm was leading them, “and I didn’t, either. LIBERTY 95 – it’s almost impossible from keeping that thing from blowing, and it can very nicely go into Phi Sag 1 to create exactly the kind of modified, tailored explosion of which you speak.”

           “Exactly,” said the Trucowl, shivering in Trucowl laughter.

           “But Fioha,” said Kogure, “do you really mean to have the Trucowl flagship explode within the main star at Phi Sag?”

           “Unfortunately, yes,” said Secowm. “I have been in communications with Admiral Alxaquiem, and she has been in contact with their crew. They know what is being asked of them, and they are actually honored to accept the assignment in the name of galactic peace and stability.”

           “Do you mind if I ask Admiral Alxaquiem for a second opinion?” asked Kogure.

           “Ambassador, you may ask her all you want,” said Secowm, “but effectively your assignment as Trucowl Ambassador to Earth has ended, with eternal gratitude from all Trucowls and the Crown of Trucowl 5 for the extraordinary performance and dedication to duties. Admiral Alxaquiem has been instructed from here on out to only speak to me, and in some way I am now the new Trucowl Ambassador to Earth, and to the Astenfaji, and to the Isvarala. Are you sure you would not like your old job back as First Officer of LIBERTY 72?”

           “No,” said Kogure. “It would only mean the return of bad memories, when I watched my husband die from the Mission Control Center.”

           “Speaking of the Mission Control Center, let’s get there,” said Victor Martin.

* * *

           On the Mission Control Center at the forward-most part of the top deck of the ship, Kogure and Martin particularly enjoyed the moment that they would again be where they were on the mission that had made this ship so famous. He quickly and comfortably sat in the comfortable chair at the Commander’s Station where he could look to the five stations around him, and a new planet for this view beyond, and the huge Trucowl flagship out to one side.

           “Don’t get too used to it, buddy,” said his wife. “Go ahead and save Earth again – if you must. But after that, Mister Martin, you’re walking off this ship for the last time. Do I make myself clear?”

           Victor Martin turned to Debbie Hernandez-Martin. “Is that any way to address a superior officer?” She was not amused. “Okay, have it your way. But behave yourself, subordinate – or I’m going to trade you in for a new model. Do you understand me?”

           “You have just been sent to the spare bedroom on New Atlantis for the next year. Do you understand me?”

           Martin chuckled. “Okay – this is it – I promise. Would you please take your place at the station of your choice?”

           She went to the Surveyor’s Station as Yukiko Korgure went to the First Officer’s and Weapons Station – a place she would occupy only briefly. “Here’s where I was then I watched Akio die. Out that window, in my mind, I can still the explosion of LIBERTY 74 as if it just happened.”

           “Your husband saved all of us – he was a great man. But snap out of it, Ambassador – please. This is a different time, Yuki-chan,” said Victor Martin, “and a different place. Place a call to LLS Alpha.” After a short conversation mostly composed of greetings from friends who had not communicated in a long time, she reported Martin what was happening with Antonio and Antonia DiNyro.

           “Your First Officer,” said Yukiko Kogure, “is now sleeping with a female he brought into the room and both are slow to wake up, but they have finally reached Ranger Julie Perkins successfully who is with them. They should be lifting off within the hour.”

           “Good,” said Martin. “Tell them to get the hell off that planet.”

           “I already have, Admiral sir!” said Kogure with considerable sarcasm.

           “I can’t wait to hear Carr’s story,” said Martin.

           Secowm, at the Mission Historian Station, turned to Martin. “After evaluating the history of the LIBERTY 95 records, Admiral, I now how the Astenfaji are destroying planets.”

           “Let’s hear it, Fioha,” he said.

           “By some transformative process, they convert the molecular structure of a planet’s stratosphere so that a chemical process producing great heat is produced, and carbon results. The carbon falls to the planet’s surface as hot coals, for lack of a better term, and then in time the carbon is thus transformed into heavier and heavier elements going to plutonium and far beyond.”

           “And that explains the radiation,” said Bu’Tan. “Do we have any way of interceding, stopping, or mitigating the process?”

           “No,” Secowm lamented. “Not even Trucowl technology has devised an antidote.”

           “Then,” said Lisa Stewart, “you had better find a way to keep that from happening to Earth.”

           “We will, Madame President,” said Victor Martin as she turned to his wife, and then to Secowm. “I hope.”

 * * *

Roata 2, at 540 Light Years from Earth in the direction of the Galactic Core

            “Oh boy,” said Julie Perkins as she finally was able to sit up in her bed following her short conversation with Antonio DiNyro on LLS Alpha through her portable communications device that had been hidden under her pillow. “I have a twelve alarm headache.” She looked to the naked couple in the other bed, made visible through an irritating beacon, no doubt from a modern adaptation of the ancient neon sign that was sending the most unnerving light pulses through the window with the regularity of a lighthouse, and casting colored shadows into the otherwise dark room. She could hear the sound of loud music and the crowd of revelers, but this time instead of coming from the large main bar-room to the south of her where she had been in her last memory, the sounds were coming from the city outside a northern window that unfortunately seemed to have a set of thick protective metal bars tightly attached to the outside of the window. Their escape would not be as easy as they had envisioned.

           Suddenly Perkins realized that she, too was naked. Using the illumination of the marquees across the pedestrian path on the building across the way, she found her clothes, as well as those belonging to Cynthia Ferrando and Joseph Carr, bundled and tossed together into a corner. Walking back to her bed with her naked body she found a portable computer she had also left under the pillow. But all other equipment was gone, including the other TAF Weapon.

           She quickly put her clothes on, and then as she noticed that an undeniably beautiful naked body had been hugging Joseph Carr’s, she made a decision to merely place their clothes by their pillows, and then to pull the sheets over both bodies. Then, she dared to speak to her superior. “Joe! Joe! Wake up!”

           In time, he finally came to consciousness. “Looks like I overslept.” He then noticed that Ferrando was firmly hugging him as she slept comfortably. “Wow – what did I miss, anyway?”

           “Who knows?” asked Perkins. Could be the thin, hot, dry air. But if you ask me, Captain, we were drugged.”

        “No surprise,” said Carr.

           “He wanted that other TAF Weapon and more,” said Perkins, and he got them. Our uniforms and her sundress were removed, in case you were wondering, while we were out cold – and if you want to get dressed, now’s the time. And did you see that?” asked Perkins as she pointed to the metal bars covering the windows.

           “Without TAF Weapons,” said Carr, “escape will be a challenge – but certainly not an impossible one. Have you been in contact with LLS Alpha?”

           “Yes, I have. We need to get back to the ship as soon as we can. More than that, I think the Astenfaji are screaming into the atmosphere as quickly as they can – I can hear them, and see what looks out the window like a non-stop meteor storm. I told Antonio where to meet us – he’ll come over when he see us there – or when we call him from there – whichever comes first. The Astenfaji are beginning to systematically make our communications down here ineffective, though. It sounds like white noise over data.”

           “Were you naked too?”

           “As naked as a Captain Ferrando is. Look at her – she’s crawling all over you. Do you think she likes you?”

        “I think she needs to relearn how to like herself first. But … I will certainly be in great need of her help in getting out of here. Cindy Hope!” said Carr as he moved the drugged unconscious sleeper to consciousness once his own clothes were on and both she and her clothes were under the sheets near the pillow. “Cindy Hope!” The other two had awakened slowly, but Ferrando’s consciousness came in a split second as she sat up, dropping her sheet to her pelvis. “It’s just your friends … Joe Carr and Julie Perkins.” Realizing what had just happened in the exposure of her perfectly restored skin to Carr and Perkins, Ferrando pulled the sheet up and then sank back to the horizontal position, finding her sundress and never knowing Carr had ever been in the bed with her. “That’s the spirit, girl. Up and at 'em. We have a big job, and then a big jog ahead of us.”

 * * *

           Once all were fully clothed, the room light was turned on as they studied the physical challenge of leaving the room through the northern window. Carr and Ferrando agreed on timing, running across the room and targeting their assigned bars with their legs first as they each extended their legs with the speed and strength to push whatever anchors had remained between the outer wall and the bars that had been screwed into a metal plate. They had successfully crossed through the large, wide window, and were now in the street north of Martinez’ night club, now mysteriously quiet in the night. The metal bar had caused no damage to any of the impressed pedestrians as they marveled at what they saw as two people had leaped into the air and catapulted, with a securely attached metal bar set ahead of them, onto the street belowl. Avoiding the broken sharp transparencies still forming daggers in the outer perimeter of what had been a window, Julie Perkins barely escaped in time before Carlos Martinez had broken into the room, firing the TAF Weapons at her with the intent of using deadly force. The TAF Weapon only succeeded in causing the flashing sign on the next building to explode and catch fire.

           They had escaped. Immediately their run took them through the city towards an easterly direction as Perkins had mapped ahead of time, as they passed windows or open doors to briefly see humans of many ages and lifestyles engaged in deviant behaviors beyond their imagination of anyone’s imagination.

                For everything Ferrando had been though, her shock at some of what they saw came as a surprise to Carr as his stomach turned to a natural repulsion as men were expressing themselves with men, women with women, and groups with groups of any variety. This was not against Carr’s moral codes so much as it was against his instincts and personal preferences, so despite the imagination expressed in some of the open windows or doors they had passed, he fought to ignore what he saw and to keep moving forward to their destination.

            Some of what they had seen would have possibly even shocked the ancient Earth Emperor Caligula, if not the residents of Sodom and Gomorrah. But it was the activity victimizing what were obviously innocent children taken to Roata 2 through human trafficking that caused both Carr and Ferrando to pause with the intent of taking some action in the name of human morality to stop what they were seeing. Yet, it was Perkins who assumed command of the Commanders, urging them to go on for the sake of saving Earth itself, leaving the victims left behind in the care of the God who would soon have possession of their souls. The explosions, sonic booms, and streaks across the night sky were increasing in intensity and in frequency. The Astenfaji were coming to destroy this planet tonight.

         They knew that they had to cut south a few blocks and then climb a large hill that had a somewhat winding road to the top. The hill was thin and perhaps in the form of a half-buried seashell, and they would have to navigate the rim to their meeting point with LLS Alpha.

            At the base of the eastern end of the city, after passing revelers in the thousands amazed at the running strangers, Julie Perkins finally collapsed in exhaustion, putting her face firmly into a cinder-laced patch of ground beyond the sidewalk which met her arm, breaking it.

            She was exhausted, and Carr looked up into the night sky to see more and more meteorites and the resulting sonic booms. It was now or never. Ferrando and Carr could now move at their speed, without having to wait for the lethargic normal human, Julie Perkins. In many ways this was a blessing in disguise. Carr and Ferrando would take turns carrying Perkins in their arms or over their shoulders as they would rapidly climb the mountain.

            There was a mudslide near the top, and they were not within line of sight to see LLS Alpha yet, so they were forced to cross through the security fence of someone’s back yard fence in order to get around the mudslide.

           Carr easily scaled the 8-foot tall fence with a single bound, and then successfully caught Perkins as she was thrown over the fence by Ferrando. Then, Ferrando leaped the fence with a single bound, and with Perkins back on her feet for the remainder of the trip, gently protecting her broken arm, they crossed the side of a house. Upon approaching the front of their house and the main road, they were met by someone who appeared to be an apparently upset landowner.

           “Do you see that sign?” asked the woman in an angry tone. She was veiled for some reason attributed to health or religion, and her tone did not indicate her mood to be a charitable one mostly assigned to a religion.

           “Actually,” said Carr, “please forgive us. How could we have seen the sign until now? It’s in your front yard – we crossed from the back yard.”

           “And I,” said the woman, “am even angrier about that. So please read the sign, now.”

           “It says,” said Ferrando, as she read the dim sign in the front yard by the light of streetlights and a constant celestial illumination from incoming Astenfaji spacecraft, “Becky Davis. Under that it says, No Trespassing.”

           “So, that begs the question. Are you Becky Davis?”

           “No,” Perkins admitted. “We are not. We must assume that must be you.”

           “Yes,” she said. “I am Becky Davis. So, that means you’re trespassing through my garden! I’m more curious in how you didn’t trip my sensors on the fence.”

           “The Lord … and modern technologies work in mysterious ways,” said Carr, sensing some familiarity with her dress code and wishing to exploit that recognition to the best fate possible in what was inevitably going to be a bad situation on this planet.

           “Perhaps. Do you know how hard it is to grow tomatoes on this planet? Do you know how many meals you might have just ruined?”

           “Our apologies, Ma’am,” said Carr. “I hate to break the news to you, but the harvest may be a little disappointing this year for all of the crops on this planet. We are trying to get off the planet - we were simply blocked in by the mudslide, and all we want to do is reach our escape from this planet.”

           “In a spaceship?” asked Davis.

           “Yes,” said Ferrando. “Again, we apologize, and we must be going now.”

           “Not so fast,” said Davis after they had moved past her. “Stop right there! You’re not getting off so easy,” she said whimsically as she held out her hand. “Gratuity, please.”

        “Unfortunately,” said Carr, “we forgot to bring Spenderos.”

        “Well,” said Davis, “You look to be a fine young man. Don't you have anything to offer as payment for violating the sacred land owned by a lonely old woman? Company? A good story? Anything?” Carr pondered the cost and consequences of staying for just a few minutes to give some solace to a woman who would almost certainly be dead by morning as he jumped momentarily at the extremely loud twin sonic booms that occurred as another streak came across the sky – much closer than before, as the Astenfaji continued their migration to this planet. “Perhaps since you have a spaceship, you’re able to tell an old simple minded woman like me why we’ve heard so many of those falling stars and explosions as they come over our skies tonight. I hear that on the next continent over, the human villages are literally burning to the ground. Are we next?”

        “Yes,” Carr admitted. “You will all die tonight. My ship has attempted to convince everyone to leave. Few have.”

           “That's a good start,” said Davis. “But it still doesn't cover gratuity. What else can you offer me?”

        “We can offer you your life if you would like to come with us.”

           “Can you offer life abundantly?”

           “No,” said Carr. “We can’t save even a fraction of these people. That appears more your specialty,” he said, banking on the possibility that his instincts were correct.

           “You’re so perceptive,” said Davis, recognizing that he recognized her blue and white clothing for what it was.

           “This whole planet is about to be leveled, by an ancient species called the Astenfaji. They intend to soon do the same to Earth. By tomorrow night, you'll all be dead. Since I seem to owe you so much, please come with us, and you'll live to see next week.”

           Davis was simply amused. “Dear child of God, you’re in Liberty Enterprises, aren't you?”

        “How did you know?” asked Perkins.

        “It is because the vision of your heart seems to extend past the next political election or the next corporate stock portfolio, such as in the case of Earth governments or Sunshine Mining. I am really Mother Becky Davis, from the Order of Our Lady of Kilimanjaro. I’m a Catholic Priest from the Diocese of Moshi in the United States of Africa’s Tanzania Region.”

           “You and Jonas Bu’Tan would get along great,” said Carr.

           “Oh, Jonas and I were classmates growing up,” said Davis. “I see something great in all three of you – a gifted ability to move beyond the tactical advantages – in search of greater priorities and strategies. I have a good friend in your organization – Mother Anna Harper. Is she still with you?”

        “I’m not sure,” said Carr. “She went on sabbatical to Santa Barbara, in order to try against all odds to save the soul of Sunshine Mining’s Dan Brenner.”

        “Win some, lose some,” Davis said. “Mother Anna always appreciated the tough fights.”

        “Father Paul Alders is the replacement priest on my ship,” said Carr.

        “I’ve never heard of him,” said Davis. “But it is a big Church, and one which has always valued patience for the right time for the right outcome for everything. No one questions why the Church took so long to allow – and it is an allowance – for women to become Priests in the Church. For everything there is a time, and for me, my time is here and now. The reason I came here was because of dreams I had on Earth that this planet would need someone here to pray for the humans on this planet at the hour of their death.”

           “Can’t you pray just as well from the safety of our ship?” asked Perkins.

           “No – I must be here, for those who come at the last minute after avoiding me for more than two years. I'm here to save souls. This whole planet has been living for sin for a very long time. At the last minute, as I am not sure Angels will be here for these people when they finally turn to God, I must be here for them. I will be praying every known prayer, plus some that haven't been invented yet, for the conversion and salvation of the souls of this planet, until the very end of my life. And then, I'll keep praying from wherever the Lord takes me. I only have one request for you when you get back to Earth.”

           “What’s that?” asked Carr.

           “Tell Mother Anna she still ain’t got no rhythm – tell her to give it all up to God and to Taizé – she’ll know what I mean.”

           “A strange request,” said Carr, “but I’ll honor it.”

           “I should not keep you no longer,” said Davis as yet another twin sonic boom and light streak across the sky appeared – this one even more profound than the last. “Thank you for being so kind and generous to me. It is not often that people your age take the time to appreciate their elders. We're considered disposable and over the hill. Thanks to science, we are now living much longer than we did before. But are we really? You really made my night, and on a personal note, I want to thank you for your willingness to treat me like a fellow human being. It is so rare, especially here.”

           “The pleasure was all ours,” said Ferrando. “God Bless, Mother Davis. And all I can really say is that it looks like you really have your work cut out for you here.”

           “Indeed,” said Davis. “Soon, I'll be with our Creator in heaven, and I'll be putting in a good word for you. If you cut across the street, you'll find a rock stairway that will lead directly to the path to the top of your mountain since you seem to intend to rendezvous with the Large Landing Shuttle that has been hanging out in the harbor.”

           “You knew! A voice from God?” asked Perkins.

           “No,” said Davis, “I am just an observant resident. Anything from Liberty Enterprises stands out like a sore thumb here – including you.” She then motioned her right hand to motion across the bodies of the others. “May Almighty God bless you in the name of the Father, and the son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.”

           “Amen,” said the others. With that, they were rapidly on their way through a significant shortcut Davis had shown them. With Perkins in the arms of Ferrando at first, and then Carr for a while, they raced to the top of the mountain at super-human speeds, even as the air became foul with the smell of smoke as the planetary transformation into an Astenfaji target became more and more evident. The horizons on all sides where land could be seen were ablaze.

           Antonio DiNyro would be the pilot to take LLS Alpha back into space, doing everything possible to pray that the Astenfaji attackers would realize that by the fact the Trucowl allies were so close to their ship, by extension this LLS would also be considered to be a friend as they climbed into space. First, they would have to get LLS Alpha through the defenses of the city to rescue the stranded crewmembers.

           “There,” said Carr to Ferrando as they climbed the steep road to the large rocks overlooking the city to one side and the harbor to the other. “Now you owe your life to me, so now you have to do whatever I say, Cindy Hope!”

           “That’s not exactly what Martinez said to me,” said Ferrando. “But all the same I am grateful to be here to argue about it.”

           “Is your memory starting to return yet?”

           “A little. I have to say you're certainly an improvement over what I had last time in Martinez. Tell me, Joe. Have you ever loved someone? I mean, really loved someone?”

           “I suppose you are supposed to tell me now that you remember who you married?”

           “No, but I do have memories now of the events leading up to the loss of my ship. I’m Cynthia Esperanza Ferrando, formerly by now I assume the commander of LIBERTY 95.”

           “Your memory is spot on – so far. Keep going,” said Carr.

           “When I was sleeping before we left, I had dreams for the first time in a long time. It sort of straightened my mind out a little. Things are starting to come back to me. There is an evil species that we found on Suaner 4.”

           “Yes,” said Carr. “They are the Astenfaji and last I heard they were on their wait to destroy this planet, then Nunki Resort, then Tau Sag, and then Earth.”

           She shivered at the thought of pondering what he had said. “I can tell by the explosions. It's the same sound, and the same smell as what we found on Suaner 4 when that place was destroyed. Joe, I’m in love with Greg King, who is in charge of my LLS Bay.” Carr’s stomach fell out from underneath him in lamentation and sorrow that she was taken, but such jewels usually were. But, as the noble gentleman that he was, he would not allow the focus to be on what he was thinking. “But, things became... complicated between us, and we decided it was time to separate for a while. I dropped him off for a vacation at Nunki Resort on the way out to Suaner. I told him I'd be back for him soon. Please, if you can do anything for me, get him out of there before the Astenfaji kill him.”

           “Nunki is a target,” said Carr. “By now the Trucowl ship is here and through a relay I’m sure LIBERTY 72 has ordered everyone out.”

           “No,” said Ferrando, “you don’t understand. Nunki Resort is filled with the most affluent and successful Capitalists Earth has to offer. It’s sort of prima donnas that used to be happy in the Cayman Islands – they won’t leave any quicker than people in the Caymans would evacuate when they heard hurricanes were coming. For better or worse the people in the Caymans turned out to be right. Nunki has the same misconception, but not the same luck, and this time they’ll die as sure as people died around Suaner or Roata. They live under an illusion that it could never happen to them – they’re too good for fate. They’re wrong.”

           “When we get to LIBERTY 72 we’ll assess the situation. Right now it will be a race to get LIBERTY 72 there before the leading convoys of Astenfaji get there.”

           “Promise me you’ll try anyway, Joe Carr.”

           “Okay,” said Carr. “I’ll promise I’ll try. That’s all I can promise.”

           “Do you know what happened to my ship and crew?”

           “I have people on LIBERTY 72 piecing together that puzzle even as we speak.”

           “I remember more than I’d like to remember. We docked at a station and I was lured to the surface. My ship was hijacked and my crew confined to a station that exploded right before my eyes. Last know LIBERTY 95 was drifting in interplanetary space, and if anyone is alive on that ship, they’re on the wrong team.”

           It doesn’t a rocket scientist to know you’ve been through a lot.”

           “Do you know what else?”

           “No, Cindy Hope. What?

           Tears came to her eyes. “I was so down on Tanya Rasputin and Steve Taylor. I was so disappointed in what they did – arranging for my ship to be stolen to attack a bunch of alien fish. But now … now all I want to do is catch those Astenfaji and scale by scale, fin by fin, torture them to a slow and painful death by ripping them apart – all of them. Does that make me evil?”

           “It makes you human,” said Carr as he hugged her. “Cindy Hope, you’re overdue for some appointments with some professionals. Who wouldn’t be. If you don’t take care of yourself, the only one who’s going to be tortured is you. I love you too much – as a good friend and as a fellow Liberty Enterprises Ranger at heart to let that happen to you. Understood?” Her tears streamed down her face as she hugged him.”

        “I love you too, as a good friend and fellow Liberty Enterprises Ranger at heart. You’re not the first person to call me Cindy Hope, you know.”

        “Who’s the other?” Carr asked as LLS Alpha came to their side and they climbed aboard the vehicle through the open side hatch as it hovered with precision.

        “Greg King – of course,” said Ferrando. “Great minds think alike.”

        Just as the fire and brimstone had begun locally, with western parts of the city already ablaze including Martinez’ night club, Carr, Ferrando and Perkins boarded the Large Landing Shuttle, welcomed by Antonio DiNyro. Had they waited even seconds, a hailstorm of hot embers would have fallen upon them. Ferrando’s sun dress, unlike her duty uniform left in Martinez’s night club, was spared any holes this time.

 * * *

 LIBERTY 72 LLS Alpha, leaving Roata 2, at 540 Light Years from Earth in the direction of the Galactic Core

 

        Antonio wasted no time in notifying Carr that upon the arrival of Admiral Victor Martin, Carr had been relieved of his command in absentia. Had this been the Antonio DiNyro that left Earth, the news would have been delivered with an immature glee and eternal internal happiness. But this was a different Antonio now, and it truly was in a sincerely sorrowful and regretful tone in which the news was delivered.

        Privately, Carr was crushed, but he put on a brave game face, doing his best not to take it personally. Martin had always been an unconventional and unpredictable leader, which perhaps made him the best man for the job at this point. Had it not been Martin leading the mission of LIBERTY 72 in the Spring of ’68, it might have become a much different galaxy, and a very extinct Earth.

        As the vehicle performed its minus-Z maneuver to line up with the back of LIBERTY 72, most of the passengers observed the huge size of the nearby Trucowl ship, beautifully arranged in high-tech ceramic tiles with lavender, lime green, pink and gold hues. Several sections appeared to have suffered battle damage, but it was not severe. Carr, on the other hand, studied the planet they had left out the other window, realizing that by now, anyone not on ships bound for the safety of Delta Sag 3 was already dead. From coast to coast, the entire landscape was ablaze, and the ocean surface was boiling.

 * * *

LIBERTY 72, leaving Roata 2, at 540 Light Years from Earth in the direction of the Galactic Core

           The two ships had left orbit together as soon as LLS Alpha was back on LIBERTY 72, and Kogure had already transmitted the orders Fioha Secowm had prepared for her to Admiral Alxaquiem, and with a sense of sorrow and dread she watched the Te-SAL-Dar-ADLAMUR alongside at some distance as it departed for its final mission, after perhaps being in space service for as long as humans were trying to invent the wheel on Earth. Planet Roata 2 had already fallen far behind like a dropped basketball, and even the star’s motion against the ships was apparent as they reached 0.25c together. With a much more old-fashioned departure than the Trucowl version – one requiring a reaction propulsion system to move LIBERTY 72 out of orbit, the twin Linear Spike Engines had fired for twenty minutes, and were now being turned off as the crew pondered which destination should be their next. For the Trucowl ship, there was no doubt. They would go to Phi Sag 1, and then wait to see if their Astenfaji allies would accept an agreement to meet with them near that star. For a brief moment the Semitiers within the trailing cylinder behind the main spherical hull turned as bright as a sun, and then the ship was gone – off to Superoptic speeds and visible only to Space Displacement Sensors on LIBERTY 72.

           Finally, showered and with a change of clothes, Carr, appeared through the entrance of the Mission Control Center. “Ranger Carr reporting for duty,” said Carr. “Did I miss anything?”

           Bu’Tan slapped his shoulder as Debbie Hernandez-Martin hugged him, and Victor Martin left his chair, although briefly, also to hug the son he never had, but would have loved to have adopted. “I need a First Officer.”

           Carr turned to Rivers. “Monique?”

           “For now, I’d be more than happy to be your Weapons Officer, First Officer Carr. You’ll need a good one, and I’ll help you with the paperwork if you need help.”

           Carr smiled. “I’ll manage. We can’t be far from home, anyway. Can I get a situation report?”

           “Lisa Stewart believes we should go back to Earth now,” said Bu’Tan, “after we make sure everyone got off Tau Sag. And now that we’ve lost the Trucowl Flagship, we’ve lost communications capabilities again.”

           “I see, Admiral,” said Carr.

           “Obviously,” said Bu’Tan as he smiled and winked at his new best friend, “President Stewart has no authority in Liberty Enterprise, so we’re going to deny her request.”

           “I still think we need to go past Tau Sag,” said Carr. “The Astenfaji downrange might not have received the memo about the change of plans.”

           “You seem to know a lot about the situation for someone who has been gone while most of that situation developed,” said Martin.

           “Let’s just say I have a Mission Historian who has kept me three steps ahead of the rest of you. Do you all now concur with my plans to corral the Astenfaji and convince them not to go to Earth?”

           Debbie Hernandez-Martin turned to Carr. “Phi Sag seems to be the best place,” said Debbie Hernandez.

           “I was thinking more along the lines of Psi Sag,” said Carr.

           “That might work, but we have Hidden Treasures that makes Phi Sag even better,” said Martin.

           “Hidden Treasures?” asked Carr.

           “Captain Ferrando’s ship is there, in that star system, on the verge of blowing itself into a miniature supernova.”

           “And,” said Fioha Secowm, “if properly placed, it can ignite the guided vortex we need to move the Astenfaji to NGC-2168 – and the Isvarala. We will force that peace treaty the Isvarala have been seeking – while in transit of the artificially created vortex.”

           “I don’t know,” said Carr, feigning ignorance for the benefit of the others there. “Sounds to me like even LIBERTY 95 will be a little underwhelming in creating a vortex that goes that far. At most, they’ll simply cause the gas giant to ignite into a star.”

           “Simultaneously, with great precision,” said Secowm, “the Te-SAL-Dar-ADLAMUR will be in the interior of the Trucowl star when they ignite their own systems. The simultaneous detonation on both celestial bodies will create a vortex pointed directly to the interior of the globular clusters.”

           “NGC-2168 is quite a leap through the galaxy,” said Stewart. “Are you sure that will work?”

           “We’re not sure any of it will work,” said Secowm. “If Admiral Alxaquiem disobeys her orders from the Trucowl Crown in the interest of saving her ship and crew, then that ship will still be lost, the gas giant will indeed ignite into a star, and everyone on this ship will be killed when the concussion blast rips this ship apart right through our EFFB’s, as well.”

           “But,” prodded Carr. “I think we can tell them now.”

           “The destination of the vortex will not be NGC-2168,” said Secowm. “The Astenfaji believe that is where they are going, or they would have never agreed with what was ultimately a Trucowl plan to save Earth from their vicious ancient ally. The destination will be along the same line, but the target destination will be NGC-2158.”

           Martin’s forehead wrinkled as his eyes squinted. “Miss Rivers, show me what Miss Secowm is talking about on your displays.” From the central computer, on one of her displays the view of NGC-2168 appeared, also marked in parenthesis with the oldest name, M35. The view was as it would appear from Earth, looking outward in direction along the galactic midplane away from the Galactic Core, on a Navigational heading of 187 from Earth, and from this location as well. But there was a smaller ball of tightly grouped stars off to one of that cluster’s sides, NGC-2158.

           “It is an optical illusion,” said Rivers as she brought up the other display showing a view of the galaxy as seen from far over it. “Here is Earth – here is NGC-2168 out on a heading of 187 from Earth, and this … this cluster near the outer rim of the galaxy among the oldest known stars - 16,000 light years from Earth is NGC-2158. That’s where we’re sending the Astenfaji.”

           “Yes,” said Secowm. “Even if things don’t work out in the attempt to finally reach peace between the Astenfaji and Isvarala so that the Astenfaji will quit torching every planet they believe might be of use to the Isvarala, we will be giving Earth another five months or so before they can get back to Earth. In a nutshell, you will have that long to evacuate Earth before the Astenfaji and their allies – the Trucowls will decimate the planet - if you need those five months.”

           “Let’s think positive,” said Martin, “and have confidence that Admiral Alxaquiem will give up life and ship so that we’ll all enjoy lives and planets.”

           “Admiral Martin,” said Secowm, “I have patched to my communications gear in my Apartment from here – against Precepts I might add, and I am looking at a tactical readout of the Astenfaji. The ones at Roata 2 are now leaving for Phi Sag, as they had agreed. There is one smaller convoy headed for Nunki Resort that has not turned back. The group headed to Tau Sag is almost there. This is the group that has so far not checked in with the others. It is, I might add, also the group that contains the Poseidon. Fortunately, or unfortunately – take your pick, that group only contains a small convoy – a convoy that this ship could successfully challenge – if needed.”

           “You see?” said Stewart, “Evacuating Tau Sag was a waste of time.”

           “And what would you have done, President Stewart?” asked Bu’Tan.

           “I would have challenged and defeated them – as is my duty as an Earth-loving human.”

           “Fioha didn’t say we’d win in a battle,” said Martin as Carr smiled in complete anticipation and agreement. “She said we wouldn’t lose. Set a course for Tau Sag and prepare to lock the Poseidon’s vessel to the top of our Sun Deck once the Chopstick Tow captures it.”

           “Why would the Astenfaji leader be there with so little protection – with an attack force so limited?” asked Rivers.

           “Because,” said Secowm, “by our actions in evacuating Tau Sag, we gave the Astenfaji leader one last chance, without opposition, to show his bravery and prowess in the eyes of his followers. They won’t ever know Tau Sag has been evacuated. By defeating Earth’s best defense base with only a few ships, he will return to his main fleet victorious and certain that he will remain a legend for the inspiration of generations to come.”

           “Admiral,” said Carr, “I have a special request – and with all due respect in the manner in which you assumed command without getting my side of the story, I think you owe me at least one.”

           “I’ll always entertain requests, Joe,” said Martin. “After all, there could only be three answers – yes, no, or maybe.”

           “Were I still the Commanding Officer, Sir, there would only be one answer to my request.”

           “State your case.”

           “We need to divert to Nunki Resort on the way to Tau Sag.”

           “Interesting. Pull it up on the charts, Miss Rivers.”

           Immediately the planet and its star system not far from Phi Sag appeared, and indeed it would only be a small diversion from here to Tau Sag to go there. Martin turned to Secowm. “Didn’t we order that planet evacuated as well, Fioha?”

           “Yes, Admiral,” said Secowm. “The Astenfaji outer ranks headed to Phi Sag are closing in within a few hours to destroy the planet. But … per Admiral Alxaquiem’s version of our Survey Drones, she has confirmed that per the latest distress call from the planet, about fifty people including men, women and children didn’t get off in time, and now they’re stranded.”

           “Darwin Award nominees,” said Stewart. “I say let’s get to Tau Sag. They were warned what would happen to them if they stayed. It’s a little late to cry for help now.”

           “Madame President,” said Secowm, “I think First Officer Carr is correct – we should try to save them.”

           “There’s no time – we can only catch the Astenfaji when they’re traveling Suboptic. We have to be prepared to catch them at the right moment,” insisted Stewart. “We can’t be late. You wouldn’t want to hold the President of North America up for a mere fifty settlers who should have known better, would you?”

           “Stranger things have happened,” said Secowm. “It has been known that a Monarch would lay down his life for a mere Commoner.”

           “Maybe in your space-time continuum,” sneered Stewart as Martin assumed it to be a Christian reference, while Carr knew full well it was a reference to the late Queen of Trucowl 5.

           “Okay, Joe,” said Martin. “I’ll give you a maybe as the answer. We’ll do a high-speed approach to Nunki, and then we’ll drop to Suboptic, and then at 0.25c we’ll drop you on a LLS to go down to Nunki Resort to get everyone aboard. By the time we come back – on a high speed pass at 0.25c exactly in the trails we leave going in, you had better be there. If you’re not, we’ll come and get you whenever we can – which could be years from now. In short, if you’re late, you’re good as dead along with the foolish leftovers on Nunki Resort.”

           “Fair enough, Admiral,” said Carr. “I’d like to take Captain Ferrando with me.”

           “Denied. I need her expertise when we get to LIBERTY 95. No offense, my friend, but at the moment you appear to be a little more expendable to our mission than she is. But, I do wish you good luck on yours.”

* * *