The Kl’Deesius medical bay was a large affair, which had room for fifteen occupants. Triage facilities were provided for by additional sections, which were normally closed off. Additional emergency medical features provided for large-scale casualty situations such as massive ship-wide damage, fleet engagements where a vessel was heavily damaged and the evacuees were injured, and the knowledge that had been provided by the humans over the previous two years had already brought the standards of ship-board medical treatment from the mid 20th century level that the Tau Cetians had previously to the modern age that Earth had attained before it all went horribly wrong.

This availability of technology would probably save these people’s lives, but for now, the obviousness of the additional medical instruments generated fear in the survivors.

“What the hell’s all this?” One of the survivors asked. It was the young man that Stephen had noticed with the crossbow earlier, his tone held contempt. “Torture mechanisms?”

“Oh, sure, we wanna see what makes you tick, find out how to hurt you really bad,” John replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “What kind of a world do you people live in, for god sakes?”

“Our world!” the lead woman said.

“Your world. Your people! Your problems! You all seem to forget that this also happens to be our world too! Our people and our problem!” Stephen interjected forcefully.

“Stephen, get a hold of yourself-” Marlon was saying.

“Sorry sir I’m not going to stand by here and let these people make mass murderers and torturers out of us.”

“If you’re not torturers then what’s all this?” the woman asked again.

“Helen?” Marlon gestured toward a bed with its own medical equipment.

“This is a bio-scanner,” she said, picking up a small device that resembled a small scientific calculator with additional depth at the front. “We use this to examine people for medical problems. This,” she took a hypodermic type device from the table. “This is a hypo spray; it injects medication directly into the bloodstream of a patient without discomfort.”

One of the survivors took an active part in the discussion. He was an older man, in no better condition than the others but his face was nowhere near as hostile as the others were. “What’s this?”

He continued to examine other components as Helen explained what each was intended for. Stephen noted that one of the guards was maintaining a discreet distance from the pair as they examined each object, just in case the surviving human took it on himself to attack Helen. Maybe by now, Miradima had briefed the guards along the lines of added protection for Helen due to her maternal status. The others began to join in the examinations slowly as Helen continued her explanation, eliminating one potential problem and generating another, since their leader did not like it.

She approached Marlon, as the obvious leader of the human crew. “What the hell are you doing to my people?” she whispered hoarsely.

“Showing them the truth,” he replied, dignified. “We’re not here to enslave the human race. Look around you, Stephen over there, he’s human, so is Helen, so is John. So are several other members of my crew, and so am I. What would be the use to us in enslaving an already dying planet?”

“This is OUR world!”

“This is getting us nowhere,” Marlon sighed. “Very well, be as suspicious of us as you want, we’ve got far too much to do for that to be a concern.”

The woman grabbed Marlon’s arm in what seemed to be a surprisingly strong grip. “What do you mean?” her question betrayed a note of uncertainty.

“I don’t know where to begin,” he admitted. “Rebuilding the Earth is a priority for me, I just don’t know how.”

Miradima joined them both. “This is your world, it is not my place to make any comments,” she began. “But I would assume from the state of your world that the only to save the planet now would be to undergo a major terraforming project.”

Terraforming was only a concept to the humans even when the Tau Ceti left Earth. “Terraforming? We’d have no idea where to start on such a concept.”

“It is not a concept for us,” Miradima replied. “It is a technique we have used. You should be aware that Midan is a terraformed world.”

Marlon’s eyes widened. “It is?” Miradima nodded, a smile breaking out on her face. “Well… I’m speechless!”

“It’s a technique which could save your planet.”

“Wait a minute… We have nothing left to give you-”

“I mention this to you as a humanitarian option, since your people are in need of help.”

The leader of the survivors frowned at Miradima, but to her credit, said nothing.

“It would take a long time to rebuild wouldn’t it? We wouldn’t be able to form an alliance until we had completed this.”

Miradima placed a hand on Marlon’s shoulder. “All I know is that in my experience, you and your crew are good people and deserve the chance to grow into a true space-faring race with contact between the hundreds of other races we’ve discovered. I will see to it that you all get that chance, no matter the cost.” Clearly not only Marlon was affected by Miradima’s speech. The woman with Marlon was clearly disturbed, though she said nothing. “We can discuss this in more detail another time.”

Marlon nodded. He turned to the survivor’s leader. “It occurs to me that none of us have been introduced yet,” he said politely.

“What would that matter?” She asked punctiliously.

“Well… For one thing it might help us to get along.”

She frowned at him. “All right, we’ll start with the others first,” she stepped to the group, waiting near one of the beds. Many of them had already taken to sitting on it. “Get off of that bed now, kids! Now, you are?” she asked pointedly.

“Marlon. Greenfield.”

“Right, Mr. Greenfield, this is Edward Mensar,” and she gestured toward the older man who had taken the initiative earlier.

“Hello,” he said, with a remarkably English accent. “Pleased to meet you,” he added, shaking Marlon’s hand firmly.

This was the friendliest man Marlon had met so far from today’s Earth. “Likewise Mr Mensar,” he replied.

“Please, Edward’ll do fine.”

“Very well,” Marlon replied. “Edward.”

“This is his son, Jason,” and now the woman gestured to the feral boy who possessed a crossbow. He also didn’t give so much as an inch, glaring at Marlon despite his attempt at friendliness. “This is Edward’s daughter, Leila.”

“Get the hell away from her-” Jason began but was cut off by his leader.

“Silence! I handle any problems here, not you!” She continued with the introduction of the other humans aboard the ship, and then turned back to Marlon. “I’m their leader, Janet Fletcher.”

Marlon nodded.

There was a massive jolt. Everyone was set off balance. Some fell to the floor.

“Everyone remain here,” Miradima ordered, before leaving the medical bay.

The doors closed, light levels dropped to low levels of blue, and previously translucent looking panels around the room flashed intermittently in dark violet patterns. Marlon noticed the sudden deployment of harnesses from what previously seemed like innocent wall skirting, so he strapped himself in as best he could, then suggested everyone else do the same.

“What the hell’s going on?” Janet asked sharply as she strapped in. “STRAP IN YOU IDIOTS!”

“I don’t know but I bet it’s to do with those things you told us about,” Marlon replied.

“Stand-by for continued attacks,” it was Davidson, via communications channels, in Klankharii. “We are commencing evasive manoeuvres.”

“What was that?” Janet asked.

“My second in command, he knows more of these people’s language than any of us,”

Marlon replied as he tightened the harness.

It was at that point that the usually faint hum that permeated through most of the ship became a suppressed roar, likely because power was being fed to weapons systems in preparation for battle. Stephen became alarmed by this, simply because since the misunderstanding two years before, he had never witnessed nor been involved in the Kl’Deesius in battle conditions.

Another jolt sent everyone flying off-balance. Many of those in the medical bay were strapped in; some still weren’t, like Stephen. He was thrown into a nearby wall and banged his head.

The force of the blow knocked him out cold immediately.

Marlon set Stephen onto one of the beds in the medical bay, once the fighting was over. The lights had returned to normal levels and the violet warning panels had stopped. Once he had settled Stephen on the bed, he turned to the others.

“There’s more going on here than any of you realise,” he told Janet, and turned to John. “Stay here and keep an eye on Stephen, I’m going to the Bridge.” He left the group and walked toward the doors, proceeding to bump into them as they refused to open. “What’s with this door?” He tapped a panel on the wall. “Greenfield to the Bridge,” he switched to Klankharii. “The medical bay doors are locked shut. What’s the situation?”

“Ops here, the doors are sealed off because there has been a major hull breach in your section,” was the reply. “Repairs are likely to take in the region of around an hour before we can release you from that section.”

Must be pretty bad. If the Kl’Deesius was badly damaged, what about the Tau Ceti?

“Do you have sensors operational?”

“Partial sensors, yes.”

“What’s the status of the Tau Ceti?”

There was a lengthy pause, almost too lengthy. “We’ll let you know,” the communication went dead.

23:30 Hours, Day 83.

Davidson watched over the sensor data with the eyes of a hawk. So far, he wasn’t sure what condition the Tau Ceti was in, as many of the sensor systems on the Kl’Deesius had been damaged in the sudden attack by enemy ships he had never encountered before. It was imperative that they get accurate sensors back as soon as possible so that they can lock transporters onto the occupants of the vessel safely.

Damn them! Why did Adam and Caitlin have to go back to the ship? They could’ve run their operational tasks from the Bridge of the Kl’Deesius.

“Full sensors are back,” Ops announced.

“Get a lock on the Tau Ceti, full scan!”

The results were seconds away, but it seemed like hours to Davidson.

“Received, transmitting data to your unit,” Ops replied.

Davidson looked over the data and ran several checks for sign of damage and life forms. The vessel was so heavily damaged that half of the habitat module was missing, and the remaining sections were exposed, debris had already long since poured out of the open sections, the severed sections still glowing with heat from the searing energy beams that the enemy used.

Marlon was still in the medical bay, and was tending to Stephen, who had just come around. So far there had been no news from the Bridge about the Tau Ceti, and Marlon was becoming impatient to know what was going on. The last he knew, Caitlin and Adam were aboard, monitoring the transmissions from the surface, when the attack struck. He was hoping that the Kl’Deesius had managed to transport them out of the ship before the fighting started.

“Davidson to Greenfield,” Davidson’s voice echoed around the medical bay, several moments later.

“Go ahead,” Marlon replied.

“Sir, Ops has just informed me that the damaged sections will be repaired in the next twenty minutes. Emergency force-fields are in place so you can move freely about the ship, but there’s a gaping hole into space so you might get some disorientation.”

“Understood. What about the Tau Ceti?”

“There’ll be a team down to open the doors in the next five minutes.”

“Davidson, what about the Tau Ceti?”

There was a long pause. “I’m sorry sir, I wasn’t able to save the ship.”

Marlon pushed for an answer on the two still aboard. “Adam and Caitlin, Davidson. What happened?” though he suspected he already knew.

“I’m sorry sir,” was the reply before the connection suddenly ended.

Marlon sat down heavily, on the nearest seat.

Caitlin and Adam… Gone?

This damned mission was taking its’ toll on them.

With the Tau Ceti gone, the crew had nowhere else to go, and with two of their number gone forever, their group was no longer complete.

What else could go wrong now?

He barely noticed Helen by his side, but when he did, he was grateful for her support even though she must be suffering from repeated shocks, as everyone else must be. She took him in her arms and they remained that way for some time.

“Is everything secure?” Miradima asked of her ops officer on the Bridge.

“The remains of the vessel’s command section have been secured in the aft cargo bay,” was the reply. “If desired, the bay can be made accessible only by the humans.”

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Miradima looked to Davidson for an answer. He was still suffering from the discovery that Adam and Caitlin had been killed.

“No,” he replied slowly. “It’s your ship; we’ll be okay as long as we have some form of access to that section.”

Miradima nodded toward the officer to indicate he was to carry out Davidson’s request. “Com, contact Klankharis Prime and inform them of our current situation, asking them for advice,” Miradima ordered. The officers continued with their duties at their respective stations. “Come with me,” she told Davidson in no uncertain terms, walking directly to a room she knew would be empty. Once there, she waited for him to arrive, and as he did, she said aloud, “Security-seal doors. Enact visual inhibitors.”

“Security seals and visual inhibitors in place,” the artificial voice of the ship’s computer system replied.

Miradima then turned to Davidson.

“What is it?” he asked levelly. Miradima walked ever so slowly toward Davidson, and as slowly as she was able to, she reached out to him. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t resist,” Miradima replied gently, gripping both of his hands once she was in reach of them, and pulling him toward her. “Let me be there.”

“I dunno what you mean,” he replied, pulling away from her. “What are you talking about?”

“You already know,” Miradima told him patiently. “Out there you might feel uncomfortable with people. That’s why you’re in here, with me and no-one else,” she approached him again. “It’s just us… Just you and I.”

Davidson sat down on one of the chairs, suddenly unresisting. “But I don’t know how anymore,” he replied, looking at her.

“Don't try not to think about it,” she told him gently. “Just stop trying to do anything.”

He did.

And he did relax.

And finally, he was able to let go.

Stephen lay still, not wanting to do anything.

He had heard the bad news at the time that Davidson had called in, and he listened to the reaction that both Helen and Marlon had had to it. He knew then, that the worst had happened.

Adam and Caitlin were dead.

Of all the people that had to have been killed, why them?

What the hell did they do wrong to anyone?

Stephen then thought, there were still others in the room.

He opened his eyes.

There were three others in the room.

Helen was treating one of two survivors in the room. Judging by the use of a hypo spray, she was likely treating them for radiation sickness. The patient was a teenage boy who looked oddly familiar to Stephen, and yet he couldn’t place the boy’s face anywhere.

Sat up on another bed, Janet Fletcher, the leader of the survivors, was keeping an eye on the boy.

She seemed stronger than Stephen imagined anyone he’d ever met.

Probably due to what they’d all been through, he thought.

She looked across at him then, an indecipherable look crossed her face before she resumed her usual frown, and then she resumed her watch over the boy.

“I’m all finished here,” Helen said, with none of her usual animation. “He’s just fine.”

“I should think so,” Janet replied gruffly. “I saw to it that he and all the others were inoculated while down there.”

“Understood,” Helen replied, her voice sounded too tired to argue.

“I want to speak to him,” Janet demanded, gesturing to Stephen.

This surprised him.

“He’s in no condition to speak with anyone,” Helen replied in a stiff tone.

“Why not?”

“Why not?” Helen gaped at Janet in surprise. “Why NOT?”

“Don’t raise your tone at me, I asked a question that’s all,” Janet snapped back. “Why can’t he speak to me now?”

“Because he’s recently suffered a concussion to the head-”

“Happens to us all the time.”

“Because he’s recently just lost two people he knew well-”

“And there’s nothing new there-”

“AND BECAUSE YOU DON’T HAVE ANY MANNERS!” There was a lengthy silence. Eventually, Helen broke it. “Why the urgency?”

Stephen could see Janet’s jaw line tightening. “Forget it,” she said as she headed toward the door.

Stephen closed his eyes again, and laid his head back on the table.

He wished everyone would leave him alone.

“Message has been relayed from Klankharis Prime,” the com officer told Miradima sometime later, when she was back on the Bridge. She had sent Davidson to rest – he had vented much of his pain and though he didn’t get angry or thrash about, those emotions had drained him, as they did her, so she sent him to sleep until he was rested. “High priority.”

“Let me hear it,” she ordered.

The message was played out over the audio systems on the Bridge. “Ship Commander Miradima receiving from Klankharis Realm Command. We have been made aware of your situation and will be sending a fleet of ships as support. Your mission is to eliminate the enemy threat and provide whatever logistical support the remaining population of Earth require. Further instructions will be sent with the support fleet. Message ends.”

The channel closed, and Miradima turned to the com officer. “Open a ship wide channel,” she told him.

“Channel open.”

“This is a ship-wide announcement. Our standing orders have been set for this current situation. This ship will remain in system to provide logistical support to the inhabitants. In addition, a fleet of ships is being sent to provide military support against the enemy for us. We will remain in alert status until further notice, see to it that each of you is ready for battle-stations at all times. That will be all.”

“Transmission from the Kl’Orix,” the com officer announced.

“Open a channel,” Miradima ordered. “Kl’Orix, what is your situation?”

“Kl’Orix reporting for duty, Ship Commander. Our status is go on all systems. However, the Kl’Lanar reports drive malfunctions caused by an attack in the Kolaris Outpost. The Kl’Fenet is heavily damaged from an engagement in the Torkhoris System, and the Kl’Daktha, Kl’Mizlak, Kl’Drenen and Kl’Pzirnakh were crippled while in formation with us en route from Midan. The enemy know of our knowledge of their activities and had an attack waiting outside home system.”

“Understood Kl’Orix. Time Of Arrival?”

“Fleet speed has been compromised, we’re keeping formation to protect the damaged vessels. Time of arrival is fifty-seven hours.”

“Understood Kl’Orix. Best of fortune to you and your ships.”

“See you on our arrival,” was the final reply before the connection was cut.

This was not good news, and meant there would be a hell of a fight in system. If too many ships entered the battle, the Kl’Deesius, standing alone for several days, would most likely be destroyed.

She would need to make the humans aware.

“Take command,” she told her second in command before leaving the bridge.

“I’m afraid it’s worse than we anticipated,” Miradima told the others, now gathered in the conference facilities nearest the medical bay. “I ordered a fleet of ships despatched to our current position. That fleet was intercepted and severely damaged as it left our home system. Some elements that were recalled from nearby systems were also attacked,” Miradima took a deep breath. “They knew we were here!”

“What?” Helen gasped.

“They were lying ready for an ambush right outside of the home system!” Davidson repeated for Miradima.

“The most likely possibility that they knew about this is that they’ve had spy vessels around all of our major outposts for some time. They could’ve intercepted our transmission for assistance earlier and acted on it.”

“But why don’t they attack you directly?” John asked.

“An attack by them on our home system at this point would never succeed,” Miradima replied gently. “Our technology and the power of our ships, means that a direct attack for them would be a waste of ships. We haven't been resting and we haven't become complacent since the last time we faced them. Our ships are far more powerful than they were the last time we faced them and we defeated them then.”

“The only hope for them at this point,” Davidson added. “Would be to operate secretly. Probably they were looking to build up their resources on Earth, already dying because of our own senseless fuckin’ stupidity-”

“Davidson,” Marlon interrupted, gripping the man’s shoulder gently.

Davidson stopped, looking at a wall. Then he turned back to the others. “They had our resources on tap and could plunder them as long as they wished. Our arriving home probably interrupted that.”

“Yes,” Miradima continued. “They planned on using a single ship to destroy your vessel, but our ships are designed to be invisible to their type of detection systems. They wouldn’t have been able to track us until we were within visual range of them, and by that time, they were committed. Their ships are as fast as ours. That’s how they were able to strike so quickly. If they would have aborted their attack before striking, they would assume we would initiate pursuit until they were destroyed.”

“So they struck anyway?” Marlon asked.

“Yes, and they began attacking your ship immediately. Our transporter operator wasn’t fast enough to save your crew, and for that I’m sorry.”

“No apologies,” Marlon replied immediately. “No-one could’ve known they would take that action.”

“Hindsight is such a wonderful thing,” John retorted. “We always know what we should have done once it’s too late.”

“What?” Helen asked with a hint of annoyance.

“In other words, what we need to do is not dwell on what’s happened and decide what to do next,” Davidson replied. “It’s likely that the enemy will attack again so we need to be ready for when they do.”

“Agreed,” Marlon replied. “What can we do?”

“What do we have available to us to do anything with?” John protested. “Everything we had was on the Tau Ceti, and that wasn’t much. There’s nothing much left on the planet below.”

Edward joined them at that point. “I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation, but I might be able to suggest something for you.”

Marlon turned to face him. “Please, do.”

Edward nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, you see, during the war of thirty years ago, foreign powers developed lots of technology and hardware that you might find useful. Self-guiding tanks, artillery platforms, aircraft, none of them remotely controlled or piloted by humans, but instead had autonomous control systems. Without any orders to act on, the machines that had been built simply ceased to advance against us.”

“Wouldn’t it still be dangerous?” John asked. “After all, they have their own processing systems. They can probably still defend themselves.”

“It’s a start at least,” Marlon replied. “We can cross the bridge when we come to it. Where can we find examples of this technology?”

“There’s a unit near our old shelter that’s been damaged and inactive for thirty years. Maybe we can examine that,” Edward replied.

“Can you tell us exactly where it is?” Miradima asked.

“Yes.”

“Very well, I will show you a global map and you can point out exactly where. We can then retrieve it for examination,” and with that, Miradima headed toward the exit.

“Shall we?” Marlon gestured flamboyantly to Edward.

Stephen was still lying in the medical bay at the time.

Things were going to hell, and there was nothing he could do to stop any of it.

Earth was in ruins, the population slowly being killed off.

An alien race was trying to take over what was left, killing more humans.

That same alien race was responsible for an attack that cost the lives of Adam and Caitlin, and they then proceeded to cause massive damage to the Kl’Deesius.

What could any of them do against such a menace?

The doors opened, and Edward walked in, followed by Marlon.

“Stephen, we need your input,” Marlon said immediately.

“What?” Stephen asked stupidly. “What’s going on?”

“We’re trying to find ways of using what there is down on the surface,” Marlon replied. “There’s some technology available to us that might help.”

“Like what?” Stephen asked, irritated. “What could we have to help us from Earth that might work against an enemy of that magnitude?”

“Stephen, what the hell is that?”

“I’m just sayin’, what’s the point?”

“What’s the point?” Marlon repeated, his words laden with derision. “How about if we don’t do something, we’re all going to be wiped out?”

“How about we’re all dead anyway?”

“You self-pitying son of a bitch!”

“Bastard! Adam and Caitlin-”

“ARE GONE!” Marlon seethed, grabbing Stephen and hauling him off of the bed he lay on. “But this is no time to give in! If we’re gonna survive we have to fight back, and I don’t intend to give in now! I’m not gonna let you either!”

Stephen sniffed derisively. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Not until you start fighting back yourself,” Marlon replied in a tone that brooked no argument. “We need your skills and I don’t have time to argue. Get up to the briefing room on the top deck once you’ve eaten something-”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten for some time,” Marlon replied. “Go eat!”

“Yes sir,” Stephen replied, and Marlon released him before leaving the medical bay.

Stephen wondered why he didn’t take him to task for calling him ‘sir’ again?