Torus Terminal has a sister station named Surot Terminal, about forty trillion kilometers away at a neighboring star. Like Torus Terminal, this sister station orbits around one of the outer planets, a similarly massive ice giant. Before their Anti-Euclidean Engines finished construction, both stations act as the endpoints to a length of the Laser Highway, pushing ships to luminal speeds using large laser arrays. When the Anti-Euclidean Engines went online, the distance between the two sister stations would be no more than the radius of their rings.

When that distance disappeared, the Imperial Corvette, INV Manifest Destiny, would move in and dock with Torus Terminal.

The INV Manifest Destiny was one hundred and fifty meters long and massed at five thousand seven hundred and forty tonnes. Its cone-shaped armor hull consisted of a thin outer layer of aluminum outside a layer of reinforced diamond plating. When facing their enemy, the Corvette presented a smaller cross-section of highly angled armor that could deflect as often as absorb incoming fire.

A thirteen and a half megawatt fission reactor near the rear of the ship provided its power, and three gimballed nuclear thermal rocket engines could use that power to burn methane as reaction mass. Vessels such as this spent almost all their time in free fall, even during maneuvers. Their mass was so large that no rocket could reasonably accelerate them into a tenth of a standard gravity, and even then, it could only do so for as long as it had reaction mass.

In space combat, it was how much a ship could change its velocity that described its maneuverability. The Corvette was one of the most heavily armed ships in existence that could boast the delta-V it did. Civilian ships only had Whipple Shields and anti-meteor cannons and could certainly possess better acceleration rates, but they were unfit for war.

INV Manifest Destiny supported a complement of eight eleven-millimeter automatic firing rail guns and four three-millimeter coil guns. The rail guns could fire heavier ordinances, and reload quickly. But the coil guns could accelerate their ammunition to much higher speeds, and as a result, its effective range was much longer than the rail guns.

Range in orbital combat was not effectively unlimited, although nothing would stop those bullets from finding new orbits, which might be a later danger. Fire from too far away and the enemy could accelerate out of the bullet’s path. A faster projectile reduced the time the enemy would be allowed to move out of the way. At the same range, a ship might dodge a shot from the rail guns, but not the coil guns.

Four Flak Missile launchers emerged from the Corvette’s midsection, and docking clamps shared the same section. These were weaknesses in the armored hull. The Corvette compensated with a ring of Titanium ten centimeters thick. Sixty Flak Missiles rested in the Corvette’s hangar, and with their much higher delta-V – thanks to their much smaller mass – they could intercept an enemy ship long before the Corvette could. By sending them in large fleets, the Corvette could overcome an enemy's point defense, and destroy them from afar.

But it wasn’t a ship that INV Manifest Destiny hunted. It was a pair of Human escapees.

Darenius Morgsste floated serenely in the center of his officer’s cabin on board the Manifest Destiny. In free fall, he couldn’t even be distracted by the sensation of his scales on the ground – a tradition that the Vyrăis had held for many centuries within the Empire. He’d missed this ritual while stationed with his army group on that mudball, Laetus.

It was on Laetus that the Honorable General placed that damnable Human under Darenius’s command. ‘Observe the Human’s capabilities in a combat scenario,’ he’d been told. Darenius had undoubtedly observed the Human turn traitor and assist the locals by cutting the throats of Darenius’s Seargents and leaving a squad to die. He didn’t trust the damnable creatures farther than he could throw one.

The Human had been exceptionally elusive ever since, disappearing into the forests. They only knew the little creature had left the system thanks to the sensors on the Naval Terminal in the solar system. Sensors had detected an abnormal spike in electromagnetic noise as a logistics shuttle passed through.

Imperial Researchers on Laetus had discovered that the Humans – at least the two they’d decanted by the time he’d left – let off an incredibly loud electromagnetic signal from the little disks fused to their spines. The Researchers had plenty to babble on about why, but what was more useful was that this wake could be detected.

Darenius refused to let the Human’s betrayal go unanswered. When the General sent his report to the Emperor, Darenius had begged for the opportunity to track the Human down. It was his willingness to lose his honorable position as an Imperial Lieutenant that Darenius believed had shown his dedication.

The Emperor had responded with the crest of the Inquisitors – their crossed swords immediately recognizable – and command of the INV Manifest Destiny. For the duration of his investigation, he had also granted him the provisional title of Provost, allowing him to appropriate resources in the name of his duty.

Tracking the Humans had been simple enough; he’d only needed to follow the trail of sensor noise they left in their wake. The Humans had each adopted a different strategy. The female hopped ships regularly at first, desperately and blindly fleeing her pursuers. The male had been more careful, and only boarded vessels headed in a specific direction. Oddly, both trails ended at Surot and then disappeared.

Investigation of Surot Terminal had suggested the Human male had been on the station. Darenius suspected the dock riots ten years ago there had been the Human male’s doing, though he had little evidence. It was too convenient that the riots had occurred so soon after Darenius suspected the Human had entered the solar system. And in the chaos leftover, the female had slipped through the area as well.

Several elite families died painfully in those riots.

If Darenius were right, though, they wouldn’t be going back to ground on a planet. It made sense if they were trying to hide, the electromagnetic field of a habitable world would mask the noise from space-based sensors. But Darenius had taken the measure of the male Human himself and knew that that would not satisfy the creature.

If the Human was anywhere, it was where he could amass power without molestation, and then quickly return to the fight. Humans were disturbingly patient, as the protracted chase on Laetus through its many forests had shown, but when they fought, it was with the same ferocity of a Vyrăis. And if the Human was to return, staying in space was more accessible than going to ground and digging himself back out.

The only escape that left was the light riders that had been going back and forth to Torus Terminal during its construction over the last decade.

“Provost Inquisitor,” the intercom buzzed, shocking Darenius from his introspection. “The Terminals have begun preliminary start-up sequences. Interstellar communications are coming online,” the Captain of the Manifest Destiny informed him.

“Excellent, Captain,” Darenius hissed as he stretched out of his relaxed pose and gracefully pushed himself toward the intercom. “When will transport be ready?” he asked.

“It will take a few days, sir,” the Captain reported after a short delay. He likely relayed the question through the communications officer, who had to navigate communications with Torus. “We are going to begin our orbit change to join with Surot, and we will arrive soon after the connection.”

“Good,” Darenius hissed. “Contact Torus and ensure one of their patrol boats can meet us once we arrive. We will need help securing these criminals.”

It was time to find this savage creature and put him back under the Empire’s heel.

~,~’~{~{@ ((●(●_(●_●(○_○)●_●)_●)●)) @}~}~’~,~

Torus Terminal was disturbingly similar to a terrestrial city minus soil, fresh air, and wildlife that wasn’t a form of disease-carrying pest. Narrow streets and wide causeways split collections of building-like modules into a grid. Although, things became more complex as modules were added to older sections of the Terminal, creating strange amalgamated buildings that stretched and arched through the station. Like a terrestrial city, trash and sewage were a severe problem, especially in more impoverished or overcrowded areas.

One of the most significant differences – setting aside its position as an orbiting space station – was the Blocks of Torus Terminal. Blocks, not to be confused with a block, was a section of the station which made up the great torus of Torus Terminal. And between each Block was a set of tunnels and bridges which spanned the gap and became the access points to the many ports and Laser Arrays that ringed the station. From these bridges, the claustrophobic streets contrasted a reinforced plexiglass view of the stars.

They were popular gathering areas, and hubs of traffic of all kinds: tram rails, pedestrians, and for the uber-rich the occasional electric vehicle.

Such electric vehicles were rare sights within the narrow streets further in the city, especially near the cramped and oddly stacked modules that made up Star’s apartment complex. No one noticed when the sleek plastic hull of the vehicle slid into a space that blocked the only entrance from the street level into the unit.

Star had been quite proud of her little studio apartment, with its kitchenette against one wall separated from the facilities by a few inches of the floor. It had, after years of bunking in brothel rooms and poor houses, been something she could truly call her own.

The nature of such modules was that they degraded over a decade, and the Terminal tore down modules too degraded to be properly habitable and put up new ones. The spider-like arms of the construction equipment hung over the city on heavy rails with giant claws and cutting blades waiting for their next job. They were an ever-present reminder that evictions were not a suggestion when the Terminal was the one who ordered it.

The Terminal built Star’s new apartment only four years ago, practically brand new. A place she might have been able to call home for years instead of months or weeks. It was an aspiration she’d only dared to consider in her wildest dreams, and it had finally become a reality.

Star was deeply regretting turning down the General’s offer to move. However, as she threw another of her glass plates with the tentacles on her flank at Charlele Hisste, Star felt like she’d signed her death warrant. The dishes were actual glass that Star bought with her own money that she’d earned with honest work. The plate fell well off its mark, but it did make the giant of a woman pause in her approach.

Star didn’t have a proper weapon, though the General had offered to arrange training for her if she could find the time. As an astrogator, even when she left with the General to go to war over a distant world, the greatest danger to her life was from the ship-to-ship ordinance, not close-quarters combat. So it hadn’t seemed as important as her studies.

It felt more critical now that Charlele and one of her Vyrăis friends had knocked down her door and shot the T’nann boys that the General had sent to watch her. They’d been such nice boys, too.

“One of them got out through the fire escape, Charlele,” the other Vyrăis growled as he swaggered across Star’s ruined room. He kicked a stack of Star’s astrogation textbooks over as he returned to the door and took up a guarding position with his handgun. “Let’s grab her and go,” he said with a dismissive expression.

“It’s wounded, it won’t get far, Caius,” Charlele hissed, turning away from Star to glare at the male. “This will go better when I’ve convinced Star to come quietly,” she said.

Star shivered at the sound of Charlele’s dismissal, the tone all too familiar to the dismissive way Charlele always treated Star. Star looked back at the day she’d allowed her Madam to convince her to take a Vyrăis for a night with great regret, that terrifying night had never ended. Charlele was rough and uncaring in bed but had held Star so tenderly afterward that she’d convinced herself it wasn’t all bad.

But she’d kept coming back, and refused to pay for anyone else but Star. The tender moments after Charlele’s dismissive attention had, for a time, convinced Star that the Vyrăis woman cared for her. When Star’s contract had gone up for renewal, Star allowed Charlele to persuade her to come and live with her for a short time, and things had gotten much worse.

Charlele’s family and friends were much worse than Charlele was. To them, Star was little more than a toy – one they felt just as entitled to use for their entertainment. And Star put off finding a new contract because of Charlele, who either convinced her that the dismissive attitudes of her fellows were not significant or somehow Star’s fault.

It was a short and damning part of her life, and the day Charlele had been sentenced was now a day she looked back on with great relief. The General had taken her in after that. He’d bought up her contract, and at first, Star had worried she’d traded one foul fate for another – but instead, the Human had just talked with her.

It was the first time in Star’s life that she could remember someone was genuinely interested in what she wanted instead of what she was willing to do. He’d helped her realize how fascinating astrogation was. Somehow he had even made the maths enjoyable – something that her brief public schooling had convinced her was well beyond her interest or ability.

Star spent all her free time from then on absorbing every morsel of knowledge she could on the subject. Something that only the General’s resources had made possible. And now, she knew how to calculate slingshot maneuvers and intercept courses, and how to read orbital and interstellar maps! With study, she laid bare the intricacies of the ballistic universe and used them to her whimsy.

Star had never felt so powerful, and Charlele had shattered that illusion with her presence alone. Star had been able to maintain her position at a brothel to make money for her apartment, but when Charlele had been released, it had almost been like a nightmare. Charlele had gone right back to demanding Star’s services, only now with fervor and desperation that truly frightened Star.

She’d quit working because of Charlele, and for a time, it had kept the woman away. But apparently, Charlele had her own ways of finding things.

“Come with me, Sweetmeat,” Charlele cooed, extending her clawed hand toward Star. “This station isn’t safe anymore. We can go back to the way things were,” she purred, and the words sent shards of ice dancing up Star’s spine.

“Stay away from me!” Star tried to sound confident and threatening, but her voice cracked and tore, and she didn’t feel very much of either. Star fumbled to wield her final plate aggressively even though throwing things was an awkward process for a species that relies primarily on grasping appendages along their backs.

Something outside the apartment drew Caius’s attention, and he stepped into the hall with his handgun raised. “Go back inside!” he snarled. Someone in the hallway let out a surprised shout, and a door slammed shut. Caius returned to the doorway with a satisfied smirk, confident no one else on this floor of the building would bother them.

“Come on, Star. We don’t have time for this!” Charlele huffed impatiently, taking another step toward Star. She didn’t even react when Star threw the plate this time, not that Star really had a chance of hitting her. “The station’s not safe. We can talk about this once we’re on our way-“

“No, Charlele, please!” Star begged.

Charlele’s expression darkened, and she quickly crossed the distance between them. Star tried to scramble away, but her knees turned to water, and she fell against the shower stall at the end of her kitchenette.

“Don’t make this difficult, Star. You’ll only make things worse for yourself,” Charlele growled. She lunged forward, and her claws grabbed a handful of the nape of Star’s neck and crushed a few of her tentacles in her harsh grip. Star shouted and thrashed in pain, but Charlele didn’t react as she began to drag Star across the floor.

“Do you hear that?” Caius snapped, stopping Charlele in her tracks. Star continued to writhe and mewl in pain, and Caius hissed, “Shut her up for a second, would you?” Charlele clamped her other hand over Star’s mouth to silence her, and a new sound drifted through the apartment.

Star didn’t recognize the tune, but someone was singing a most peculiar song. Music was typical of many species, but they were usually calming, ululating things reminiscent of long-dead religions. This felt different in a way that Star couldn’t find the words for – it was as if the singing had a hold of her heart, and Charlele’s too. And that hold was not gentle as it directed her emotions.

“... the fourth, the fifth! The minor fall and the major lift!” the voice sang, falling and rising hypnotically. Charlele and Caius swayed in time with the song, caught in the strange emotion of the sound. “The baffled king composing Hallelujah!” Star was amazed that not only could she feel the emotion embedded in the word, but it was also a complex mix of elation and sadness that tugged at her hearts in a delightfully painful way.

Charlele was so struck by the sound, that her grip loosened and finally released. Star’s hypnosis was broken in that instant, and she shuffled quietly away from Charlele. She put as much distance as she could between them as the voice transitioned into a verse about being conquered by love at first sight.

The moment was not to last, however, as Charlele realized her hands were empty. She growled subtly and glared back at Star, a silent promise that her disobedience would not be forgotten.

“Caius!” Charlele hissed, startling the male from his own hypnosis. Caius’s gun snapped up to a ready position, and he shook his head as he gathered himself. “Where is that useless cousin of yours? He was supposed to be watching the door!”

Caius hissed at her, but dug in the pocket of his robes and retrieved a folding communicator. The little devices were somewhat expensive as access to the relay networks were privately owned, but Charlele’s friends certainly had the resources to have them. Caius tapped at the buttons and held the little device up to the hole in the side of his head that served as an ear. After a moment, he hissed and shook his head.

“He’s not answering,” he explained as he tucked the device away again.

“Damnit! It must be the Human,” Charlele hissed.

Caius scoffed. “Then he’s finally come out of his hole,” he growled. “I’ll be right back.”

Charlele choked on her protest as Caius disappeared through the entryway, but he was gone before she could form her thoughts properly. The singing grew louder, and Caius didn’t shout like he had before. Charlele hissed, and Star could see the tension in the larger woman growing as she nervously disentangled her own pistol from where she’d tucked it into her robes near the base of her spine.

“If you had anything to do with this, Star,” Charlele growled, leaving the threat hanging. She turned a glare to her that whithered the hope where it grew in Star’s chest.

Star shook her head desperately, and tried and failed not to flinch away. Star could honestly say she’d never heard anything like this before, even now the hypnotic song tugged at her attention – its melancholy tones somehow a balm to the terror. But, after a moment’s consideration, she realized it couldn’t be anything else. No culture she knew of had songs like this.

It couldn’t be the General, she didn’t think his voice had that kind of range, but she had seen another Human at his office only a few days ago ...

The singing stopped without warning. A final, chilling “Hallelujah,” echoed through the building and left a damning silence in its wake. Charlele and Star both froze, expecting a gunshot, shouting, anything. But all they heard was a single set of footsteps approaching the door.

Charlele carefully aimed her gun at the door, but couldn’t suppress the shaking of her hands.

The footsteps stopped outside the door, and the singer – absent of its hypnotic power now – spoke clearly. “Please don’t shoot me, Charlele,” it asked politely. “I’m unarmed.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Charlele snarled. “Come out slowly with your hands where I can see them,” she demanded, gesticulating with the gun.

“You can call me the Singer,” the voice said as the Human stepped slowly into the doorway. Her hands were held up near her face and wrapped in a silky looking material that made her palms look quite bulky. It was the same Human Star had seen skulking in the shadows of the General’s office, and she was just as beautifully alien as he had appeared to Star.

Her face was softer than the General’s, but those same piercing eyes flicked around the room. The Singer, much like the General, also rippled and swayed in that strange almost-fall that was as precarious as it was graceful.

“Caius!” Charlele roared. “Caius, where are you?”

The Singer shook her head. “He’s having a rest, and he won’t be waking up for a while,” she explained.

Charlele hissed and adjusted her aim on the Singer, pointing the gun at the Human’s center of mass. “What did you do to him? Is this one of the Thief-Taker’s tricks?” she demanded, waving the weapon for emphasis.

“I choked him until he passed out,” the Singer admitted with a slight grimace. “And there’s no trick. It was my idea to come to talk to you.” She tried to make a placating gesture with her hands, hiding a small step forward, but Charlele caught it, and her aim steadied suddenly. The Singer froze as well, though not nearly so entirely as a Vyrăis could. “We all want out of this without anyone getting hurt, don’t we?” the Human finally asked.

“That would be preferable, yes,” Charlele growled. “And what about the two I came here with?”

“They’re unharmed, and we’ll let you leave with them,” the Singer assured her. “If you agree to leave peacefully, there won’t be any violence necessary,” the Singer carefully said. “You have my word, the Thief-Taker won’t stop you from leaving. But you have to leave peacefully.”

“Fine, step out of the way, and I’ll collect Star and be on my way,” Charlele said with narrowed eyes.

“And there is the problem,” the Singer said with a wince. “I can’t let you take Star,” she explained, her expression hardening by just the barest margin.

“Then we appear to be at an impasse,” Charlele growled. “Or, we would be, if I wasn’t the one with a gun.”

“But you don’t want to shoot me, Charlele,” the Singer insisted, drawing the Vyrăis to a pause. “I didn’t come alone. And if I’m right, you’ll be using frangible bullets. It’ll take one heck of a lucky shot to kill me with one bullet, and that’s all the time you’ll get.”

“I think you underestimate how quickly I can pull this trigger,” Charlele growled. Her subtle shake returned, and a scowl grew on her face. “I’m leaving with Star. And I think I like my chances,” she hissed.

The pistol in Charlele’s hand barked, and Star felt the sound rattle her skull and leave her ears ringing. The Singer flinched, and a cloud of powdered metal exploded from her chest. The bullet powder ripped the thin clothing the Human had been wearing, revealing the Kevlar vest underneath and the splatter where the bullet had impacted.

The Singer’s breath whooshed out of her lungs, squeezed out with a creak of her ribs from the impact. But to Star’s surprise, the Human only stumbled back a single step. In a fluid motion, the Human dropped into a crouched position and lunged at Charlele.

In the same instant, the lights in the apartment winked out, and Star’s next moments were filled with darkness and the noise of gunfire.