Janea stared at the corpse on a slab in the morgue, as if she expected it to get up and offer an explanation. Instead, it just laid there in the typical silence of the dead. Beth didn’t look the part of a ruthless slaver and traitor lying there. She just looked like a tired old woman, finally getting some rest.

Janea had gone through Beth’s things in the aftermath of the ship being captured. The old woman didn’t have much in the way of personal possessions. Aside from a few sets of clothes and other necessities, and the revolver she’d gifted to Janea, her only possession of any interest was an old worn wallet.

Janea turned it over in her hands, looking through it again. It was definitely of pre-war manufacture, mainly because there was no such thing as a “post-war” wallet. Most would find it silly to use the fleet’s limited manufacturing capabilities to make wallets for a cashless society. Janea wondered if it was real leather. She wouldn’t know. She’d never even seen a cow, nevermind leather. It felt smooth and soft, and had a faint smell she’d never encountered before, so Janea liked to imagine that it was real.

She looked through the wallet’s meager contents once again. A United Kingdom Citizen ID Card, with a picture of Beth that would have to be from at least twenty years ago. There were two twenty pound notes, and Janea felt surreal looking at them. She knew of paper currency intellectually, of course, but actually holding it in her hand felt…strange. There was a small gallery of real, actual photographs in a little booklet compartment in the wallet. Janea found herself flipping through them again, each one offering more questions than answers.

Three young women in old-fashioned Space Force Cadet uniforms posed in front of an old European building of some kind. The middle one looked a bit like Beth, but matching the old, weather-beaten face on the slab in front of her to the youthful smile in the picture proved difficult. She flipped the page.

An old man with snowy white hair beamed with pride next to a young woman in a Space Force Cadet’s uniform. With the perspective of the photo being closer, it was much easier to make out the woman’s face. It was definitely Beth. She flipped the page.

A grinning man with African features wraps his arm around a slightly older-looking Beth, who smiles gleefully for the camera. The pair sits at a picnic table with a bright green field in the background. Janea quickly turned the page. Letting her eyes linger on old photos of Earth never ended well.

Beth stands in Space Force fatigues at some kind of space port, holding a little boy in her arms who giggles as she kisses him. It’s the last picture in the booklet.

“Think she lost him?” Lance, looking over Janea’s shoulder, asked.

“Do you think she’d be here if she hadn’t?” Janea asked back.

She stared down at the body. “I doubt she has any people in the fleet, but if she does I’ll hand this off to them when I get there.” She said, holding up the wallet.

She shook her head ruefully. “She’s traitorous slaver scum, but she’s still one of ours.”

Lance nodded slowly, his eyes drifting to the body and lingering. “Yeah. One of ours.”

Janea left the morgue. Lance remained, looking down at the corpse.

“Were you really a traitor? Or were you just one last casualty?” He asked the dead woman.

She didn’t answer.

—

The disorganized gathering of recently-liberated slaves crowded into the cafeteria of the slave ship they had captured. The ragged group squabbled over what to do next, their translation implants struggling to keep up with the mess of words from a hundred languages flying through the air. One voice, the deep baritone of a particularly burly male Tlassiopei, was attempting to lead the discussion.

“The obvious choice is to make for Coalition space at best speed and allow the authorities to repatriate us from there-” the big Tlassiopei was interrupted by a young Nodexial, who cackled an echoing, musical laugh.

It stared back at the Tlassiopei with eyes as black and empty as the void. It looked like someone had crossbred a giant eel with a giant centipede and then covered it with a full body suite of bony armor. The creature rumbled and screeched, and the translators spoke.

“How long have you been in here, Tlassiopei? The Coalition is being crushed under the Supreme Commander’s boot. His fleets roam freely through space around all but the most powerful strongholds. It’d take hundreds of light years to reach friendly space, and we’d be lucky to make it a dozen in tubs like these.” It smacked on the steel floor with one of its segmented tentacles for emphasis.

A sound like howling wind echoed through the room as the horse-sized Eeyuuanoo at the rear of the room vocalized. The massive triped did not see or smell the others in the room, it instead listened to the sounds of its inaudible sub vocalizations bounce off of them with an auditory organ that took up most of its head. Its bone-chilling voice presented a good point.

“I want to return to my home and herd, as I’m certain all of us do. What would you have us do? Hide in this storm until the Great Decay?”

More music filled the room as the Nodexial chuckled bitterly once again. It swiveled its massive head over those of the others in the room to look at the Eeyuuanoo.

“If your ‘home and herd’ isn’t on the fringe or in the core worlds of the Coalition, it’ll fall within the [1.86 Earth Rotations] anyway.”

Its head swiviled again as it surveyed the room, eyeing each of its inhabitants. Its vocalizations grew louder, like it was giving a speech instead of speaking to a room full of translator implants.

“The only option that’s reasonable is to find the nearest neutral spaceport that isn’t overrun by the Diln and then each of us goes our own way from there. I have no interest in being dragged along on any suicidal adventures into former Coalition space, but I have no desire to bar others from trying.”

The Tlassiopei growl-hissed its disapproval. “No! Our only safety is in numbers. If we split up then we become fodder for the Diln.”

The shrill cry of a Noqqou perched on a handrail butted in. It flapped its four brightly feathered wings and let loose a torrent of shrieks from its scaled maw of razor sharp teeth. It didn’t look all that intimidating compared to the Tlassiopei’s massive bulk: it was only the size of a particularly large bird.

“And who declared you our ruler? You Tlassiopei may think you run the Coalition, but here we are all equals!”

There was an uproar as old wounds tore open and the Coalition in miniature collapsed into infighting. Ti-Ro cleared her throat and tried to speak.

“Perhaps-” The uproar drowned it out. She cleared her throat again and raised her voice.

“I have a-” Again, it was barely heard.

A series of deafening thunderclaps reverberated through the room.

“SILENCE!” A terrifyingly powerful baritone echoed. All in the room obeyed and looked at the source of the noise.

Kaleet’s massive form sat atop a stack of crates, a dent in the floor where his foot had recently been used as a drumstick. With there being no clothes anywhere on the ship that would fit him, he had taken to wearing a massive cloth wrapped around himself that, combined with his mane of beautiful feathers, made him look like some ancient, regal Emperor. His wife and the three stray Ponfet females who had gravitated into his orbit over the last few days lay reclined at his feet, which only added to the effect.

The ponfet male glared daggers at the room, before finally deigning to speak again. “Mistress Ti-Ro wishes to speak.”

He turned his head and looked back at Ti-Ro expectantly. The zani woman felt like her heart was about to leap out of her chest as all eyes were suddenly on her. She cleared her throat for what felt like an eternity, and then somehow managed to speak.

“M-...my homeworld, Hent, is quite close, relatively speaking. Closer than the nearest non-Diln civilization, if this ship’s star charts are to be believed. If we all head there, my people can protect us, and we can all recuperate from this ordeal. In time, my people can arrange passage for those individuals who wish to leave.”

The small crowd took a moment to digest that. Predictably, the Nodexial was the first to speak.

“If you’re here, then the Diln know of your planet’s location, surely. You expect us to rely on the protection of primitives?”

Ti-Ro started to answer., but the Nodexial interrupted.

“No, wait, let me guess. Is it bombs? You think your nuclear missiles will protect you from a Diln battlegroup?” the alien mocked.

“I grow tired of your snickering, serpent.” Kaleet rose to his feet, ignoring the placating hand Galiwa tried to place on his massive thigh.

“Ah, yes, how could I forget about you. I feel safer already. More primitives to throw spears at their battlecarriers for us.” He shook his head violently, ignoring Kaleet as the ponfet struggled against the grip of his female counterparts holding him back.

“This is absurd, is there anyone who honestly believes we’d be safe there?” He said, surveying the room.

“Our fleet will protect you.” The voice that spoke was not an alien shriek or howl, but human speech. Janea stood up at the back of the room, Lance looking up at her in horror.

The room went even more quiet then it had at Kaleet’s outburst. Humans tended to make people…uncomfortable. The sight of a human brought up an unpleasant truth to the minds of every other species: the Ivos were still out there, as unstoppable as ever. Every human was a walking reminder that, as bad as things were, they could get much, much worse. The aliens in the room looked at the bald ape standing at the back of the room with some apprehension because of this, but they still gave it their attention.

One alien, however, was unperturbed by the implications brought about by the presence of a human. The Nodexial bellowed in the most bitter laughter it had produced yet. “What, so the species that couldn’t even protect its own planet is going to protect this one? This is foolish.”

Janea did not react to the callous disregard for the murder of her civilization. She just stared at the Nodexial. Others began staring as well. It was Zyp who broke the silence.

“Oh, child. You’re showing your age. I was around when the humans fought the Diln, nevermind the Ivos. If their fleet has one tenth of the courage shown in their war with the Diln, or one millionth of the courage in their war against the Ivos, then we could not find better protectors in all the galaxy.” She looked at the Nodexial with some measure of sympathy.

The Nodexial took a moment to look around the room, and then it bowed its head to Janea. “That was ignorant and low of me to say. I apologize…but,” He looked up, pitch black eyes boring into Janea’s.

“It is not your courage that I doubt, it is the size of your fleet. Your superdreadnought might tilt the scales in your favor against a single battlegroup, but what happens if the Diln come in with two? Or an entire fleet?” Despite his ignorant comments earlier, many in the crowd could not help but admit he had a point.

Lance was the one to cut in this time. “If the Diln have the resources to spare an entire fleet to conquer the most backwater sector in the Arm, then that means the Coalition has fallen and we’re all doomed anyway.”

That quashed most misgivings on the spot. It was difficult to argue with the morbid reality of the times.

Lance glanced at Janea and went on. “Janea, Ti-Ro, and myself were on a mission to bring a message to the Fleet and bring them to Hent. WIth this…detour, things have changed. Should you elect to go along with this plan, I will bring all of you to Hent. From there we can secure passage to independent ports as needed while Janea and Ti-Ro go on without me and come back with the fleet.”

Janea glanced sharply at Lance, but then looked away quickly.

There were mixed reactions in the room to Lance’s words. The Nodexial gazed at Lance.

“You’ll allow us to go to a neutral port, truly?”

Lance nodded (not that the body language would mean much to the giant alien). “As soon as transport can be secured, yes.”

The Nodexial rumbled for a bit, then seemed to make up its mind. “If you speak the truth, then this plan has my vote. ” It was hard to read such an alien creature’s body language, but Lance strongly suspected that this was a very bugrudging agreement.

With the greatest voice of decent silenced, it wasn’t long before the denizens of the slave ship voted on the matter, and elected to go to Hent.

—

Lance, Janea, and Ti-Ro were heading back to the airlock to make their way to their quarters on Albatross. Janea shook her head. “I can’t believe we convinced them.”

Lance glared at her. “I can, seeing as how you told them a blatant lie. Humanity isn’t allied with Ti-Zahn. Hell, aside from you, me, Sandra, and Akito we don’t even know they exist.”

Janea looked away. “I…know, Lance. But you know as well as I that this is the best hope any of them had. There’s nowhere else for them to go, not anymore. I’ll convince the fleet…somehow.”

Lance grabbed her and whipped her around, pointing a finger at her face. He looked at her with an uncharacteristic glare. “You damned well better. You just dragged almost a hundred innocent people into our mess, without talking with me first I might add. I don’t care if you have to abduct Admiral Khatri and hold him at gunpoint, you will get that fleet out there.”

Janea pushed him away. “You seemed all about this plan in the cafeteria.”

Lance shook his head. “No. You made a play, and I backed it up, even though it was a bad play.”

Janea glared back. “It was the best play we had.”

Lance sighed. “I hope you’re right, Janea. I really do.”

With the humans no longer at each other’s throats, Ti-Ro jumped in. “Perhaps our odds of convincing your fleet are better than we thought. If the Diln are on the verge of victory, then perhaps your leaders will be more open to it.”

Lance shook his head. “That big bony fuck was exaggerating. The Coalition has been “losing” for the past ten years. The war is far from over, even with that big battle they lost while we were on Hent.” Like everyone else, Lance had been doing some catching up on the news from the slave ship’s computer. The last data package was from two weeks ago, but it was still more up to date than Albatross’s news package.

“Still, it might push the government off of the fence.” Janea said. “They go on and on about the ‘future of the species’, but we have no future if the Diln rule everything. We have to get involved, like it or not.”

Lance shrugged. “Don’t tell me, tell it to the Admiral.”

—

Two humans and a zani walked through the cramped corridors of a captured Diln slave ship. A little white dog happily trotted after them.

“This isn’t right Lance, this is your ship. You stole it fair and square.” Janea said, half serious.

“Yeah, which is why you’re going to bring it back to me. I swear, if you get attacked by pirates again, I’m going to start thinking you’re cursed.” Lance teased. He looked at Janea. She seemed unconvinced.

“Look Allie is home, I get it, but she’s not her best self right now. I burned off most of that radioactive muck we generously called ‘fuel’ in my little escapade. We’ve also been here for over a week. If the fleet hadn’t moved off before, it definitely has by now. Which means you’ll need a hell of a lot more fuel than Allie can hope to carry to get back on its trail.”

He stopped at the airlock of Grrg-Dentfa, the Krrg vessel he had captured. “This is the most intact ship we have in this little flotilla. We need the Fleet’s help, we can’t risk you not reaching them because we sent you out in some pile of pirate junk we salvaged.”

Janea smiled. “Thanks, Lance. I promise to bring it back in one piece.”

Lance put a hand on her shoulder. “Bring yourself back in one piece. Both of you.” He said, eyeing Ti-Ro.

“You too, Snowy.” He said, looking down at the little dog. The dog turned its head quizzically at Lance’s words.

Janea put her hand on Lance’s. “I know I’ve said it before, but you have no idea how glad I am that you didn’t die on that ship. I thought I was used to loss. I mean, what human isn’t, right? But, seeing your…corpse. It was as bad as when I was a little girl. Worse,even.”

Janea wasn’t used to emoting like this, but it just kept pouring out. “It’s just…when does the wheel turn for us? We claw our way to the stars, finally start to move past our differences, and it all gets turned to ash by some alien civilization we’d done nothing to provoke. Then we drift around for twenty years, and finally find some friends, only for the entire Arm to be on the verge of falling to the Diln.”

Good God, am I crying?

She looked up at Lance, fighting back tears. “Why us? Why humanity? When do we finally catch a break?”

Lance squeezed her shoulder. He was more than a little taken aback by Janea’s change in personality since her captivity. The Janea of old would’ve sooner jumped out an airlock than cry in front of someone. He couldn’t help but comfort her, though. It would’ve been inhuman not to.

He squeezed her shoulder. “We play the hand we’re dealt, Janea. If it hurts this bad to lose it, then that means it’s worth fighting for. We can’t give in, never. For Them, remember?”

Janea dried her damp eyes. She nodded.

“For Them.”

There was an awkward alien cough. The two humans looked at Ti-Ro. She gave an unsightly zani grin.

“I’m glad you’re alive too, by the way.” she said.

Lance grinned back. “Thanks, Ti-Ro. Come home in one piece. And make sure she does too, will you?”

The alien shrugged, scratching her neck with one of her tails. “Eh, no promises. She has a talent for getting people to want to kill her, and I’m only one zani.”

“Good enough for me.” Lance said. He knelt down and scratched Snowy behind the ears.

“Take care of these two lunatics, okay girl?” Snowy licked his hands in response.

Lance nodded sagely. “It’s always good to know that there’s at least one person who’s judgment I trust with them, thank you.”

He stood up swiftly. “Alright, get out of here. Every minute spent here is another minute for the fleet to get further away.”

The pair nodded and made for the exit, Janea scooping Snowy up on the way. The airlock slammed shut. Lance cracked his neck and stretched.

They have to convince humans to pick a fight. I have to convince a ship full of aliens not to rip each other apart. I think one of those jobs will be a hell of a lot easier to pull off than the other.

Lance wandered off down the hall, bracing himself for several days of arguing with the logic of alien minds.