It would have taken four hours to reach the East Gate flying through the void, but the jumpdrive got them there in just over a minute. It took another minute to speak with the Enterprise and get docking clearance, and a third minute to land inside the Federation flagship. Three minutes. Yvian spent the time watching Federation ships pour into the sector.

The humans were pulling out all the stops. Cruisers and Destroyers swarmed into the sector, forming the core of strike wings ten thousand strong. Frigates acted as escorts, and carriers launched wave after wave of lethal Gladiator class fighters. Klusters were still appearing here and there, but the human ships left them for the Peacekeeper Queens to deal with, too focused on organizing their invasion to bother with stragglers. Three minutes, and over a thousand strike wings were already making their way towards Aldara. A similar number of human ships were spreading out from the other three Gates, eager to scour the Klaath from their home system.

The Random Encounter set down in one of the Enterprise's smaller docking bays. Yvian noticed it was the only bay that was empty. A trio of gladiators floated nearby, no doubt evicted to make room for Mims' ship. The moment the Encounter set down, Mims repressurized the ship. Then he stood and walked briskly off the bridge.

Yvian and the rest of the crew followed. She thought they'd go straight to the cargo bay, but the Captain had them stop at the armory first. He handed out BR24 Plasma Rifles and Nanoblade Katanas without a word. Then they all marched down to the bay.

Mims activated the door control. The cargo bay door raised. The ramp lowered. The Enterprise's docking bay came into view. A large door leading into the flagship had just finished opening, and a frightening number of armored humans were flooding into the docking bay, weapons drawn. Yvian put a hand on her rifle, but stopped short of drawing it. Captain Mims walked casually up to the ramp, looking down at the other humans with his hands clasped behind his back.

The humans took up positions all around the Encounter. Yvian tried to count them all, but gave up and estimated there were about a hundred of them. After nearly a minute of running around with their guns out, the soldiers formed up in neat lines, rifles held diagonally across their chests. They formed a corridor between the Encounter and the docking bay door.

Three more figures entered the bay. A tall man, a short man, and a woman of medium height. Like the other soldiers, these three wore white armor, and the visors of their helmets were gold. Like the other soldiers, these three were armed with plasma rifles, blaster pistols, and swords that looked an awful lot like the one Mims had given to Yvian. Unlike the other soldiers, these three kept their weapons in their sheaths.

The three came to the bottom of the Encounter's ramp. They stopped. The tall man in the middle spoke with a booming voice. "Permission to board, Mims?" It was the High Commander.

"You know you don't need an escort," Mims boomed back. "If we were planning to kill you we wouldn't have docked at all."

"They're not here for me," General Young explained. "They're here to keep any wayward personnel from getting wild ideas. Aldara remembers, Mims."

"Yeah. I guess it does." Yvian could hear the Captain's grimace. "Permission granted."

High Commander Young turned to the man on his left. The man's body went rigid as he snapped a salute. General Young stood straight and stiff as he returned it. The man stepped away. General Young and the woman on his right both took out their rifles, handing them over to a pair of soldiers. They did the same with their swords. General Young looked up at Mims. "Mind if we keep our sidearms?"

Mims called back, "Doesn't matter."

The General gave a gracious nod and climbed the ramp. The woman followed, staying to his right and half a step behind. Mims went back to the control panel as they boarded. The Encounter's ramp retracted. The cargo bay door sealed shut.

The High Commander removed his helmet. He looked much as Yvian remembered. His skin was a deep, dark brown. His head was shaved and smooth and shiny. He had the complexion of a young man, but his eyes were grim and his expression could have been carved from stone. Yvian was sure he was old. As old as the Captain, if not older. Most likely he'd undergone rejuvenation in an Oluken med-pod just like Mims.

The woman took her helmet off as well. Blonde hair and sharp cheekbones. Eyes that reminded Yvian of green grass on a summer day. Expressive lips set in a serious expression. And curves Yvian was trying hard not to notice. Yvian remembered this woman. "Hamilton?"

The woman blinked, then smiled. "I'm surprised you remember."

A grin forced its way past Yvian's desire to appear professional. "How could I forget?"

Mims ignored the exchange, turning to the High Commander. "Before anything else, I need to hear you say it again."

"Say what again?" The High Commander asked.

"That you had nothing to do with it."

General Young frowned, but nodded. "Neither I nor any of my people set off the device that called the Klaath. I didn't know we had such a thing at the time."

Mims kept his gaze focused on the man. "Kilroy?"

"The meatbag is not lying," said the machine.

The High Commander glanced at the Peacekeeper unit. His eyes widened, then narrowed.

"Fair enough. Second question." Mims kept his eyes on the General. "When did we get our hands on that tech? Was it at Aldara?" His tone was businesslike, but there was an intensity he couldn't keep off his face. "The first time?"

General Young held the Captain's gaze for a pregnant moment. Then he shook his head. "I don't know."

The Captain went deathly quiet. "You don't know."

"I don't know." The High Commander spoke firmly. "And if I can't find out, no one can." He folded his arms. "There's no record of when that technology was invented. I know it's ours. We found another device. But someone went through a lot of trouble to make sure we'd never find out where it came from."

Mims composed himself. "I see."

"No you don't," said the General. "I tried to find some people to ask about it. People that might know what kind of science was being done in Aldara when it all went down. Do you know what I found? A trail of bodies." A hint of fury flashed across his face. "Three research stations, all at Aldara, with no record of what they were studying. And every single person that was on those stations died. All of them. All within five years of the incident." His jaw clenched. "That tells me something all by itself, but there's no records and no proof. We'll never know for sure."

Mims stared at the man a moment longer, then nodded slowly. He turned to Kilroy. "Where are we at with Klaath?"

"The Vrrl Starfang Empire is defending Tendril Sector," said the Peacekeeper. "This unit calculates they will be sufficient. This unit calculates the meatbags will be sufficient in this sector, as well. Peacekeeper Unit Admiral Ender Zhukov states it is unable to calculate the outcome in New Pixa Sector. Peacekeeper Unit Admiral Ender Zhukov also states there is nothing this ship can do to affect that outcome at this time."

"New Pixa's under attack?" asked the General.

"We think they're after the Queens," Mims explained. He tilted his head slightly, coming to a decision. "You want a beer?"

General Young blinked. "You have beer?"

Everyone moved to the kitchen. Mims dug some beers out of the fridge. He handed one to Lissa and one to General Young, keeping the third for himself. Yvian followed his fine example, grabbing a bottle for herself and one for the General's Assistant. Hamilton opened her mouth to protest, then closed it, frowning at the beer in her hand.

"It's alright Hamilton," the High Commander told her. "Soldiers don't drink on duty, but we're not soldiers right now. We're diplomats, and diplomats drink." He twisted the cap off of his bottle. "You can consider it an order if it makes you feel better."

"Yes sir." Hamilton popped her beer open and took a sip. She gave the bottle a considering look, and then took a much longer swig.

"That's good beer," said the High Commander.

"The most popular drink in the Technocracy," Yvian said proudly.

"Haven't had one in a while," the General confided. "I got the entire human race crammed ass to elbow in every station we could move, and we're missing about two planets worth of food production. We can't afford to spend resources on luxuries like booze."

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Yvian eyed the two of them. Had the High Commander lost weight? She couldn't tell. He'd been a mass of muscle when she met the man, and he still was. She started to size up Hamilton, but quickly changed her mind. She was dangerously close to ogling the woman as it was.

Still, if they couldn't get beer, it was likely the humans had been forced to eat whatever could be grown in bulk on the quick. Crunch, they might have been living on protein paste. Yvian's taste buds cried out in sympathy. The thought of that poor, beautiful woman suffering like that...

"Mims?" Yvian asked. "Is there any way we could make breakfast?"

The Captain's eyes flicked from Yvian to Hamilton and back. He looked down at his wrist console. "Might as well. It's technically morning, I guess." He stood, heading for the fridge.

"You want some help?" General Young offered.

"Sure," said Mims. "You can dice the potatoes."

"I suppose I'll eat as well," Scarrend rumbled. He went to the corner of the kitchen, where his personal larder had been set up. He pulled out a leg.

"Uh, Scarrend?" Lissa spoke up. "Maybe you should have fish for breakfast."

"Hmm?" The Vrrl rumbled. Then he caught her look. He put the leg back and pulled out a salmon.

"Was that a human leg?" Hamilton asked. She looked concerned.

"Yes," said Scarrend.

"Don't worry," Yvian reassured her. "It's Mims' leg. We cloned it."

"...Why?"

"It turns out the Vrrl don't eat people just for fun," Lissa explained. "If they go too long without eating sapient flesh they'll lose their minds. Go feral." She grimaced. "It's not pretty, and it's not reversible."

"What?" Hamilton's frown deepened. "How does that work? Some kind of enzyme deficiency?"

"It's psychosomatic," Lissa told her, "but it's hardwired into their DNA. Just like their worship of the Varma."

"That," the High Commander stopped cutting potatoes as he spoke, "is deeply fucked up."

"We are as the gods have made us," Scarrend said simply.

Lissa engaged Hamilton in small talk while the men cooked. Yvian joined in where she could, but she'd never been good at talking to new people. Especially pretty ones. Mims and the General worked in companionable silence, aside from a single exchange.

"I didn't know you cooked," the General had remarked.

"Someone has to," Mims had replied. "The girls baked me a cake once. I thought they were trying to kill me."

"That was one time," Lissa had protested.

Breakfast was simple but plentiful. Bacon and eggs. Pancakes and fried potatoes. Yvian and Lissa got more beer. The humans drank orange juice or milk. By unspoken agreement, conversation was abandoned as everyone ate. Yvian had thought the Captain cooked more than they needed, but after General Young and Hamilton each helped themselves to a third plateful she wondered if he'd made enough.

"Oh my god," Hamilton leaned back after swallowing one last bit of pancake. "I forgot how good it can be to eat real food."

"That was a real kindness," the High Commander agreed. He smiled at the pixens. "Good to see you girls haven't changed."

"It's good to see you, Bart," said Lissa. She smiled back.

Mims offered more beer. Hamilton declined, but the General accepted. Lissa took one, too. The Captain sat down, frowned, then got up to get another bottle for himself. "Alright. I guess we should get down to business."

"I guess we should," General Young agreed. "It's been a hell of a year, hasn't it?"

"I've had worse," said the Captain. "But not many."

"Tell me about it." The High Commander grimaced. "I thought last year was bad, what with the Vore and the Xill, but last year's got nothing on this. Most of the government got assassinated, half our stations got shot up, and then humanity's greatest enemies all formed a coalition and came after us." He swigged his beer. "Now my whole fucking species is hiding out with a bunch of pacifist squid people."

"Yeah, how are the Taa'Oor?" Lissa took a drink of her own. "I don't know much about them."

"They're sweethearts," said the General. "Weird, but sweet. Kinda hard to talk to, though. They communicate by changing the color of splotches on their bodies, and each one uses different patterns. It's like you have to learn a new language for each individual, and it's played hell with our translators."

"The Taa'Oor have been very helpful," Hamilton added. "They seem really happy to be dealing with us instead of the Oluken."

"I don't blame them," said Lissa.

"I should probably feel bad for dragging them into this," General Young admitted, "but we didn't have much of a choice. Between the Vrrl and those goddamned Klaath Queenships we can't win a straight up fight." He gestured with his bottle. "How the hell did you find a way to control those things, anyway? The Klaath fuse their ships to their nervous systems. I didn't think anyone else could use them."

"Xill technology," Lissa told him. "An artificial nervous system linked to a Peacekeeper unit."

The General grunted. "Anyway, moving to Wet Sector took us from certain defeat to a stalemate. We don't got the forces to take New Pixa, but you can't get to us, either. You try and we'll just cut the Gate. The Taa'Oor won't even mind." He shrugged a shoulder. "They'd rather live simple on their homeworld, anyway."

"Stalemate might be a bit optimistic," Mims told him. "You've lost both your planets, and you've got more people then you've got space for, let alone food. You can't keep hiding much longer."

"We can," the High Commander disagreed, "but I don't want to. This war's cost us too many people already. I don't want starvation to add to the toll."

"Surrender then," Mims suggested. "Take the ceasefire. We didn't want a war in the first place."

"This unit did," Kilroy objected.

"And the Empire as well," said Scarrend. "But we're willing to consider your surrender. If we kill you all now, there will be no humans to hunt later."

The General gave Scarrend a considering look. "Are you able to speak for the Vrrl?" he asked. "Negotiate on their behalf?"

"No," said Scarrend. "A negotiation will require all three Warmasters, and the proposal will have to be approved by the Emperor."

"Damn." The High Commander took another drink. "I was hoping we could get this done today."

"We can still lay the groundwork," said Lissa. "You've got our initial proposal."

"A proposal we can't accept," said the General. "We already lost Dorado to the Vore. I can't give up another planet."

"You've already given up your planets," Scarrend pointed out. "The ceasefire would let you get one of them back."

"Can't do it," General Young repeated.

"We know you don't really expect us to give up Aldara," Hamilton cut in. "You're starting high so we'll have to bargain you back down."

"No," said Scarrend. "We're telling you the price of survival."

"Uh... Scarrend?" Yvian interrupted. "Hamilton's right. We weren't going to take Aldara."

"Yvian!" Lissa snapped at her.

"What?" Yvian met her sister's outraged eyes. "That's what you said, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Lissa let out an exasperated breath. "But you're not supposed to tell them that."

"It doesn't matter," Mims decided. "We can't do peace talks until the Warmasters are available, anyway." He leaned forward. "We've got something more important to talk about."

The High Commander eyed the Captain, then set his beer down. He gave a single, grave nod. "Reba."

"A ceasefire won't mean shit," said Mims, "as long as she's running the Federation."

"There isn't a Federation," the General told him. "Not anymore. It died two months ago, when some asshole overthrew the government in a Military coup."

"There was no choice, sir," Hamilton reassured him. "The selection process was compromised."

"All the candidates were in Reba's pocket," the General explained.

"And you're not," Mims guessed.

"If you heard the orders President Boyd tried to give..." He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. It's done." He picked his beer back up. "The worst part wasn't the war, you know. Wasn't even that we're losing. The worst part was finding out humanity's been manipulated by a goddamned computer program for six hundred years. A program," he added, "that doesn't care about keeping us alive anymore."

"Does that mean you kicked her out?" Yvian asked.

"We did a lot more than that," said the High Commander. "Pulling everyone to Wet Sector wasn't just a way to keep you from conquering us sector by sector. Reba was in control of the Nexus. I had to get everyone in one place, where we could communicate without Nodes. And I needed to get my hands on every ship, station, and computer capable of holding a Synthetic Intelligence."

"The Connor Protocol," Mims breathed. "You actually did it?"

"What's the Connor Protocol?" asked Lissa.

"A failsafe invented after the Singularity War," General Young explained. "A plan. You already know we don't allow remote controlled anything. Even our beam towers are manned. But there's all kinds of shit an SI can do without direct control, and they can download themselves into anything with enough processing power. If an SI like Reba infiltrates the Nexus, there's only one thing we can do."

"Shut down the Nexus completely," Hamilton elaborated, "and scour every single computer one by one."

"Then we had to search our planets for hidden servers along with every asteroid we could get to," the General continued. "That's what my people were doing on Terra Nova when you showed up." He grimaced. "I thought we got her until she set off those Klaath beacons."

"You couldn't have got her anyway," Yvian told him. "She's in Xill space, trying to take them over."

The General stared at Yvian, then swore. "If she takes over the Xill we're all fucked."

"We know," said Mims. "Exodus is trying to stop her."

"Never thought I'd see the day I rooted for Exodus the Genocide." The High Commander shook his head. "Does he think he can do it?"

"No," Mims admitted. "I think he's just buying time."

The General swore again.

"Do you have a plan?" Hamilton asked. "In case she comes after you with the Xill?"

"We're working on it," said Mims.

"So no, then," the General's rigid posture slumped. For just a moment, he looked very, very tired. "I need a vacation."

"It will be alright, sir," said Hamilton. "We'll find a way."

"Of course we will." The General pulled himself back together. "I'm just a little tired is all." He drained the last of his beer. "I'm a Military man. I never signed up to run a country or..." He gestured with the empty bottle. "all of this."

"Welcome to my world," said Mims.

The High Commander grunted.

"So..." Yvian frowned. A thought that had been niggling her for most of the conversation finally climbed to the surface. "I guess this means you're not getting Blingy."

"Blingy?" The General raised an eyebrow.

"The Lucendian ship we gave to the Xill," Lissa explained. "After Myrsa defected, we assumed you'd use her to get it."

"We figured Reba would hand you the ship," Mims added. "We didn't know you started the Connor Protocol."

"I don't think Reba's gonna be handing us much of anything," said the General. His brows furrowed. "Why'd you want us to get our hands on a Lucendian ship?"

"So we could take it from you," said Kilroy.

General Young grunted. "Figures."

"Wait." Hamilton frowned. "If you thought... Why take her back?"

Mims glanced sharply at the General's Assistant. "What?"

"Why take her back?" Hamilton repeated. "Why recapture Myrsa if you thought she's doing what you wanted?"

"We didn't," said Mims.

"Someone did," the High Commander told him. "Someone who doesn't show up on sensors. Someone who slaughtered their way to Station Control in under a minute." He fixed a grim eye on Kilroy. "It was Peacekeeper work. I'm sure of it."

"Negative," said Kilroy. "All Peacekeeper units are accounted for. No Peacekeeper units have entered Wet Sector."

"No one else could have done it," the General insisted. "We were sure it was you."

"Negative," the Peacekeeper denied again.

"It wasn't us." Mims agreed.

"Then who?" The General asked. "Because it wasn't anybody human."

The Captain's eyes narrowed. Then they went wide. "When did this happen?"

"About an hour after the Klaath showed up," said the General.

"Kilroy." Mims stood, pulling out his helmet. "How long would it take to get us to Hub 14? "

"Six hours," said the Peacekeeper unit, "forty seven minutes."

"Sorry, General." Mims donned his helmet. "But we're gonna have to cut this short."

"It's a set up." The High Commander stood. "Isn't it?"

"Don't know yet," said the Captain. "But better safe than sorry."