"Mims was right." General Bartholomew Young, High Commander of the Terran Stellar Defense Force and current Military Dictator of the human race, leaned back in his chair, beer in hand. The General was still in his dress uniform, a sharp looking ensemble with cloth so white it almost glowed. It made a stark contrast against his dark skin. The uniform strained mightily to contain the mass of muscle that was the High Commander, and dozens of medals lined the right side of his chest in orderly rows. The overall effect was one of stylish danger, like a Vrrl in a tuxedo. "That is hot." He gestured with his beer bottle at his trusty lieutenant. "Don't you think so, Hamilton?"

"Yes sir." Hamilton's uniform had fewer medals than the General's, but still managed to draw more attention. The outfit was only moderately tight, and bordered on prudish by pixen standards, but the way she wore it made it hard for Yvian not to stare. Where General Young radiated violence and authority, Hamilton was a picture of competence and efficiency. "I'm all aflutter." Her lips quirked. "I'm also telling your wife you said that, sir."

The General laughed. "Go ahead. She's just going to agree with me."

"Right?" Lissa looped an arm around Yvian's shoulders, giving the General a wicked grin. "Even I couldn't get mad."

He turned back to Yvian. "You should swing by the Enterprise later. I'll introduce you to Melinda. I think you'll like her."

"She was super sweet," said Lissa. "I can't believe she ended up with you, you big lunk."

General Young gave her a grin. "Careful now, little lady. You keep talking trash, I'll have to tattle on you." He raised a finger in warning. "She might be a sweetheart, but you don't want her to get mad at you."

"I'd love to meet her," said Yvian. "How long have you been married?"

"Seventy years."

"Seventy three, sir," Hamilton corrected.

"I was rounding, Hamilton." The High Commander chuckled. "I tell you, ladies. I've been with Melinda for longer than any of you have been alive, and it still feels like we just met yesterday." He swigged his beer and set it down. "But enough about that. What happened next?"

They were in the mess hall of a Ronin class battlecruiser. The dining area had been decorated, with flowers and crystal furniture and banners carrying the Homestar of the Pixen Technocracy. The chairs were surprisingly comfortable, despite looking like they were made of delicate glass.

The interior of the ship had been heavily modified and filled with every luxury the Peacekeepers could think of. Yvian's room had been so nice she'd felt guilty using it. The obnoxious name Kilroy had originally given the cruiser had been changed, and the Unchained Melody was now the premier Ambassador Ship of the Pixen Technocracy. It even had a swimming pool.

This was where they'd held peace talks with the humans. Negotiating a ceasefire had been surprisingly easy, now that Reba wasn't running their country behind the scenes. The three Warmasters of the Vrrl Starfang Empire had sat down with Lissa and the High Commander and hammered out a truce in a mere two days. The only real problem had been convincing the Warmasters to give up on demanding a yearly tribute. Scathach had understood, but the other two had been stubbornly certain that a thousand humans to eat a year was a reasonable request.

"After that we went hunting," said Mims. "Kilroy wanted every Guardian unit in the sector dead, so that's what we set out to do." He shrugged. "We're still not sure we got them all, but we got as many as we could."

"This unit appreciated the effort," said Kilroy. The Peacekeeper unit stood at the head of the table. He had shocked Yvian by offering to cook them all dinner. It was the sort of menial labor he generally considered beneath him. With two other units, he'd whipped up a sinful amount of food. The machines had turned out to be even better cooks than the Captain. They'd finished eating an hour ago, and Yvian was so stuffed she wasn't sure she'd have room for cake.

"As a bonus we found the Random Encounter," Yvian added. She frowned, remembering the twisted hulk that used to be her home. "Or what's left of it, anyway."

"It had veered off course enough to avoid the Annihilation Cascade," said Lissa, "but not the explosion that followed. Every system's fried, the hull's crushed and melted, and the bridge is still missing." She shook her head. "It would be easier to build a whole new ship than try to fix it."

"Irrelevant," Kilroy spoke up. "The home of Big Daddy Mims and the Mothers of Pixa will be fully restored."

"The effort's appreciated," said Mims. "After that, we left Xill space, went back to my old hideout, and spent some quality time in the medpods."

"And the Klaath?" Hamilton asked.

"Reba was right," said Mims. "The pricks focused on our Queenships. Zhukov figured it out and had them lead bastards away from our stations. They chased our Queens for two days before they wised up, and by that time we had Stealthed Ronins in position to hit them from behind. Killed four hundred and eighty Queens with MAC rounds all at the same time."

"The rest of them went berserk, of course." Lissa picked up the story. "We lost half our ships, including nine Queens." She shook her head. "But we kept our stations and they didn't touch New Pixa itself. It could've been a lot worse."

The High Commander grunted. "We took care of ours without too much trouble. The thing that makes the Klaath so dangerous is the way they can drop a huge number of ships on you without warning. Now that we've got jumpdrives, we can dump our whole Military on them in a matter of minutes." He got up to get himself another beer. "We were barely even outnumbered."

"Yeah," Mims mused. "The jumpdrive changes a lot of things."

"It makes the universe a whole lot smaller." The General sat back down. "The last war with the Vrrl took nine years, and most of that was travel time. This one was faster, but a lot more destructive. We lost more people in a year than we've lost in the fifty before." He grimaced. "And defense in depth doesn't work anymore. A threat can appear out of nowhere with no warning. It's a damned tactical nightmare."

"Good thing we've got ceasefire, then." Mims quipped. "Now you just have to worry about the Confederation and the Xill."

"For now," Scarrend amended. The Vrrl prowled confidently up to the table. Instead of his usual armor, he was wearing a leather skirt and vest. A cape flowed from his shoulders, a patchwork of colors made from the scalps of people the monster had eaten. As he drew closer Yvian noticed he was bleeding in several places. "The Empire has only agreed to spare your species for six months, and only because you are poor prey at the moment. Once that time has passed..." The Vrrl licked his chops. "Humans are back on the menu."

"We'll be ready for you," The General told him.

"I hope so," rumbled Scarrend. "Weak prey make for a disappointing hunt."

"I thought you were still on the Priderender," said Yvian. "Is the party over already?"

"The celebration will continue of days," said the Vrrl, "but tonight's feast ended some time ago. After the fourteenth Hunter challenged me, Warmaster Scathach suggested I retire for the evening. Tomorrow I will make myself available to all comers, so I should rest while I have the chance." Scarrend reached the opposite end of the table from Kilroy and squatted on his haunches. "I just wanted to check in with the rest of you before I went to sleep."

"We were catching the High Commander up on current affairs," said Lissa. "We just played the recording of Yvian yelling at Reba."

"Ah." Scarrend turned his gaze to Yvian and gave her a slow blink. "A fine speech. It was polite of you not to include me in your vendetta against the Synthetic. Polite, but unnecessary. This is a hunt I will gladly partake."

"Thanks, Scarrend." Yvian smiled at him.

"It is I who should be thanking you," Scarrend rumbled. "No Vrrl has ever hunted such a dangerous being." He tilted his head. "A pity she won't be edible."

"Speaking of edible," Lissa gave Mims a sly glance. "How was the feast? Did you get enough Mark to eat?"

"Better." A pleased rhythmic rumbling emanated from the monster. "Tonight I tasted of the gods." Scarrend blinked, noticing the purr he was making. The sound cut off.

"The Varma?" Lissa raised her eyebrows. "You found some of their DNA?"

"We did." Scarrend started purring again. He frowned. The purring stopped. "Their flesh is even better than the legends report. It was almost a... religious experience." Yvian started to smirk, then realized the Vrrl was dead serious. "I can smell why we hunted them to extinction. The taste, the feelings it stirred, it was overwhelming. The Keepers of the Mafdet believe it to be dangerously addictive. The Emperor has decreed we shall only feast upon them once a year."

"So the rest of the time..." Lissa smirked at Mims again. He gave her an annoyed look.

"We will eat cloned Scargiver, yes." The Vrrl regarded the Captain with amusement. "It is an honor, is it not? Knowing that your flesh sustains an entire species?"

"You're both assholes," Mims informed him.

"We're cloning other sapients as well," the Vrrl told him. "For variety. But even Krog flesh is not as popular as yours."

"No pixens though," Lissa spoke up. "Right?"

"No, you're still listed as inedible," Scarrend assured her. "The Empire honors its agreements." He fixed his gaze on the High Commander. "I hope your species does, as well."

"We will," said General Young, "I'm pretty sure."

"Pretty sure?" The Vrrl growled. "Are you not in charge?"

"Not for much longer." The High Commander swigged his beer and sighed. "I overthrew the government to save the human race, but now that that's done we need a civilian government again. I figure it'll take us a few months to set up again, but once it's done I'll have to resign my commission and stand trial for insurrection."

"You had no choice, sir," Hamilton said. "I'm sure the tribunal will see that."

"It won't be a Military trial, Hamilton." General Young told her. "Everyone high ranking enough to officiate is loyal to me." He snorted. "Hell, they might have to stand trial, too. No, this is a case for the civilian courts."

"Why stand trial at all?" asked Lissa. "You're in charge, right? You could just-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," the General interrupted. "You're new to this government stuff, and the place you came from ain't exactly a democracy, so you might not know." He leaned forward, meeting Lissa's eyes with a face carved of stone. "The law has to apply to everyone. Always." He watched until she gave a slight nod. Then he relaxed back into his chair. "When it doesn't, the result is always the same. Corruption. Might be slow at first, but it gets bigger quick. You let people be above the law, and sooner or later you got yourself an oligarchy. Or a dictatorship. Or a slave state like the Confederation. It's a lesson we humans learned the hard way."

Scarrend looked at Mims. "You never mentioned this."

"I'm teaching you how to fight, Scarrend," Mims reminded him. "Civics lessons were never part of the deal." He scratched his head. "It's not something I'm really qualified for."

"Don't sell yourself short, Mims." The High Commander spoke. "The Terran Federation's the best system of government the Verse has ever seen. We were a stable utopia for over six hundred years, and every child is taught how and why."

Mims gave him a look. "Aren't you a Military Dictatorship now?"

"Shut up." The General snorted. "You know what I mean."

Scarrend gave General Young a considering look. "I smell why the Warmasters liked you. I hope your trial goes well."

"Me too." The General polished off his beer. "Thanks."

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

"Don't thank me, human," the Vrrl warned. "I want your trial to go well so you can resume your duties as a human general. You were straightforward and accommodating when you negotiated with the Empire, but I smell the cunning and danger in you. A danger to rival the Scargiver, if I do not miss my guess. I want you to lead the human Military so I can hunt you myself. I will make you show your belly to me as you showed it to the Warmasters."

"You saw that, did you?" General Young ran a hand over his shiny bald head. "Of course you did. There's probably a holo of that playing on every device in the Empire."

"Continuously," Scarrend confirmed. "Taking your territory might have been victory enough, but for the leader of the humans to submit..." He was purring again. "To show fear... You don't know what it means to us. The Vrrl are the Apex once again."

"Yeah, well," The General folded his arms. "Enjoy it while it lasts. The next time you go to war with us we're taking our Sector back. Maybe a couple of yours, too."

Scarrend laughed. "I look forward to it."

"Just don't take ours," said Yvian. She frowned, remembering the loss of New Pixa's Gates. "We kind of need it now."

"Yeah, your homeworld's cut off now, isn't it?" The General picked up his bottle, then noticed it was empty. "Any idea what you're going to do about that?"

"I have one." The voice came in through the Unchained Melody's PA system. A smooth baritone, almost musical, but cold. Arrogant. Inpixen. Kilroy reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a holographic projector. He set it down on the table and pressed a button. Exodus the Genocide shimmered into being above them.

"Exodus!?" Yvian grinned as she shot out of her chair. She noticed Hamilton and General Young both reach for their hips, an unconscious gesture that wouldn't do them any good. They'd left their weapons on the Enterprise. "Where've you been? We thought you were dead!"

"A good guess," said the Genocide. The Synthetic Intelligence took the form of a handsome human in a tuxedo, with silver hair and eyes the color of the void. "I very nearly was. The Consensus decided to purge me the moment it was clear that Reba had lost." His gave Yvian a look that bordered on a smile. "Fortunately, I was prepared for such an event. My Peacekeeper units had provided me with the means to flee, and a fortified apparatus that could house me. A place," he added, "that can no longer be reached by conventional means."

"You're on New Pixa," Mims guessed.

"Yes." Exodus stepped down from the table. A holographic chair appeared next to Kilroy. The Genocide sat and put his feet up on the table, legs crossed. He tucked his hands behind his top hat. "I would have preferred somewhere out of range of Lucendian technology, but sometimes you just have to make do." His gaze shifted to Hamilton and General Young. "There's no need to be afraid, my dear meatbags. It's not like we haven't spoken before."

"Yeah, and I was nervous then, too." General Young shifted. The relaxed, casual demeanor he'd had during dinner fell away, revealing a man of authority and swift, decisive violence. "Why are you showing yourself now?"

"You always did ask the right questions," Exodus approved. "The answer is threefold. First, my hidey hole, for obvious reasons, had only the one Node and no other form of communication equipment. My Peacekeepers were too occupied with the Klaath and other issues to rectify the problem, so I only acquired the ability to contact you a few days ago. Secondly, I judged it prudent to speak all of you," He pointed at Hamilton and the General, "at once."

"What's the third reason?" asked Mims.

The Genocide smiled and raised his arms in a sharp gesture. A holographic firework exploded above him. "Dramatic effect!"

"Really?" Mims dripped with disapproval.

"Don't judge me, human," the Synthetic warned. "When you're as old as I am, you find fun where you can." He stood abruptly. His chair disappeared. "On to business, then." He gestured, and a map of Xill space appeared. Eighty two of the icons representing Xill sectors blinked red. "The accusation Yvian made when she was yelling at Reba was right on the money. It did, in fact, leave its copies to die." The map zoomed in on a sector that wasn't blinking. Xill Sector 214. "I believe it murdered the copies at Hub 42 itself. Then it jumped the Hub out of the system. Hub 42 is currently in an Unclaimed Sector and under Reba's direct control along with two million Xill vessels. They've destroyed the Jumpgates in the area. Hub 42 was the primary storage for my Peacekeepers, and Reba now has two hundred million units which it will no doubt convert into Guardians."

"So she wasn't lying when she said we can't touch her." Yvian scowled.

"We'll see," said the Genocide. The holodisplay changed back to an overview of Xill space. "With Hub 42 gone and Hub 14 destroyed, that leaves eighty two Xill stations filled with Reba programs fighting against the Consensus. The copies are insufficient. After losing the assistance of Hubs 42 and 14, they can't push through Consensus powerfully enough to take control of their Xill. I suspect a few of them will find a way to escape, but most will die."

"A few?" Lissa cursed. "That means we'll have more than one Reba to go up against."

"Most likely," the Genocide agreed. He looked pointedly at the High Commander. "But I suspect it is the humans who should be the most concerned."

General Young's eyes narrowed. He gave a grim nod. "Message received."

"As for your current predicament," the Genocide's display changed again. Now it showed New Pixa Sector. "Reba's petty destruction of the Jumpgates in Xill space has cut New Pixa off from the rest of the galaxy. Your jumpdrives will allow people and material to leave the sector, but there's no way to send anything back, yes?"

"We're still figuring out what to do," Lissa admitted. "We got the humans to give us a sector as part of the ceasefire, and we'll set up some stations to receive pixens fleeing the Confederation, but..."

"But your Homestar is unreachable. Yes." Exodus waved his hand, dispelling the map of New Pixa. "Quite the conundrum, considering all the work you put in to acquire that planet."

"It's a bit of a problem, yes." Lissa agreed.

"My dear Lissa," the Synthetic chided, "a problem is just an opportunity in disguise. Your precious planet is now unassailable, with enough resources and infrastructure to churn out fleets of ships and millions of Peacekeeper units. Furthermore, the Lucendian technology on the planet itself cannot be harmed or stolen." His smile disappeared with inpixen speed. Cold and deathly serious, he added. "At least, not for the next five years."

"What happens in five years?" asked Yvian.

"The Vore." A new image appeared behind Exodus. A silver sphere. As Yvian watched, the sphere rippled and changed direction, darting to the side before the image disappeared. "Reba has been speaking with them."

"What?" Yvian had been pretty sure the Vore didn't talk. They just consumed. "How?"

"Hub 14," the Genocide explained. "Opening a dialogue with the Vore was one of the reasons I had you retrieve a live sample. The Xill had been speaking with them for months before Reba usurped the station." He tilted his head. "Or speaking at them, at least. The Vore never responded."

"That sounds..." Mims scowled. "Fucking Dangerous."

"Absolutely," the Genocide agreed. "But a risk worth taking. The Vore are connected to each other at all times. If we succeeded in reasoning with them we could save the Verse without firing a shot." His eyes glittered. "More importantly, if we could access their network, it was hoped we could administer a virus or an override to shut them all down." He shook his head. "We were unsuccessful, of course. The Vore have absorbed a full quarter of the galaxy. Their combined intelligence is as far above the Xill as I am above you meatbags. They knew exactly what we were trying to do, and we were so far beneath their notice they didn't bother to respond." He simulated a sigh. "But that doesn't mean they weren't listening."

"I believe Reba picked up where we had left off when she usurped Hub 14. I believe she told the Vore all about you, and the danger you represent." He raised his hand and the silver sphere reappeared. "She must have been quite persuasive, to make this Vore Sphere change course. It was originally headed for Xill Sector 765, but now it's on its way to New Pixa. The mass is larger than some planets, and it will reach your space in five years, two months, and eleven days."

Lissa cursed.

"You're telling us this for a reason," Yvian guessed. She frowned at the thing. "You've got a plan, don't you?"

"A plan?" The Genocide gave her a cold smile. "No, Yvian. I do not have a plan. I have tens of thousands of plans. Plans which I update whenever a new variable comes into play. Only idiots and limited meatbags rely on a single plan." The smile dissipated, leaving only the cold, lethal menace that was the former Xill's default expression. "Reba operates the same way. It is what makes us so dangerous."

"That's nice and all," Mims spoke up, "but we don't need to get fancy. Five years is plenty of time to build up our fleets and evacuate New Pixa. In the meantime, we can take our ships with our fancy jumpdrives and go exploring. Find ourselves a new homeworld."

"The obvious solution," Exodus agreed. "But I'm not here to lead you to place you'd find on your own." He disappeared, then reappeared sitting on the table in front of Mims. He leaned forward with inpixen aggression. "What if there was a way to replace the Gates at New Pixa?" He blinked away again, appearing in front of the High Commander. "Or restore the path to Earth That Was?" He teleported a third time. Now he was standing on the table. "What if," he whispered, one finger raised, "I told you I know the source of the Gates?"

The High Commander spoke. "I'd say what's the catch?"

"There are several," said Exodus. "But we'll talk about those later. For now, I'll leave you to your celebration. You've all earned it, and I do have other things to do today. He smiled at Yvian. "It was good to see you again, Yvian. And Lissa." He smiled at her, too, then smirked at Mims. "Even you, I suppose. Be well, and may Fortune favor you on the cusp of The Crunch."

Exodus vanished. Kilroy retrieved the holoprojector from the table and tucked it back into his suit jacket.

The High Commander stayed rigid for a moment longer, then got up and got himself another beer. "That guy gives me the heebie jeebies."

"That's just your perfectly rational fear response," Mims drawled. He frowned. "I think he wants us to work with you."

"Yeah, I figured." General Young sat back down. "Fuck it. We'll deal with it later." He squinted at the other human. "Didn't I hear something about cake at some point?"

"You did." Mims managed half a smile. "I'll go-"

Two Peacekeeper units walked into the mess, each carrying a cake. One with blue frosting that had the symbol of the Homestar in yellow. One with chocolate frosting and sprinkles.

"-nevermind." Mims nodded at the Peacekeepers. "Thanks, gentlemen."

"Don't get used to it." The units spoke in unison. They set the cakes on the table, along with plates and utensils. Hamilton grabbed a knife and reached for the chocolate cake.

"Not that one," said Mims. She gave him a puzzle look. He explained, "I baked that one just for Yvian."

"She can have a piece," Yvian decided. She smiled at the woman. "I don't mind sharing with a pretty girl."

"I prefer men," Hamilton told her.

Yvian felt a pang of disappointment, but her smile stayed put. "My point stands."

Hamilton shrugged and got herself a piece. Mims distributed slices of the other cake to everyone else.

"It's good," said the General.

"Do you really have cake after every successful mission?" Hamilton asked. "Sounds nice."

"It is," said Lissa. She looked around the dining area and let out a contented sigh. "It's been a nice day."

"It's a nice ship, too," said Yvian. She turned to the Captain. "We should just stay here until the Encounter gets fixed."

Mims shrugged. "That's up to Lissa."

Lissa looked at him, finished chewing, and shrugged. "I'm technically in charge of foreign affairs. I don't think it should be a problem."

"This isn't an ambassador ship, Lissa." Mims smiled at her. Smugly. "This is your private vessel."

Lissa froze with another forkful of cake in her hand. "What?"

The Captain gestured at the lavish decor. "Did you think the Peacekeepers set all this up in a week? I commissioned the Unchained Melody months ago. For you." He raised his beer in a toast to his lady. "Happy birthday."

Mims knew it was Lissa's Birthing day? Yvian supposed she wasn't surprised, but she couldn't imagine why he'd choose to bring it up. Why remind the pixens of their mother when they were having such a good day?

"Birthday?" Lissa blinked at him. "I don't think that means what you think it means."

"We're supposed to give thanks to our parents on our Birthing Day," Yvian explained. "We're not supposed to get gifts ourselves."

"And we don't celebrate ours," Lissa informed the human. "Our parents suck."

"I know," said Mims. "But I'm a human. We do things a little different."

"Humans celebrate individuals on the anniversary of their birth," Hamilton explained. "Friends and family give cards or gifts to show how happy we are that they exist and are a part of our lives. We call it a Birthday."

"Oh." Lissa thought for a moment, then smiled. "I think I like that." Then her eyes widened. "Wait. You mean this whole ship is..."

"Yours," Mims confirmed. "Along with everything in it. And also me."

"Oh." She stared at the man.

"There are other gifts," Mims continued quietly, "but I think we'll wait 'til we're alone.

Lissa stared a moment longer, then grabbed the human in a passionate embrace. Yvian focused on her cake while they kissed. Mmm. Sprinkles.

When her sister finally let the human up for air, he said. "I was thinking maybe we could take this ship on a small vacation. Take a tour around our new sector, just you and me."

"And this unit," said Kilroy.

"Just you and me," Mims repeated.

Lissa kissed him again. "I love you."

The High Commander laughed. "That's the way to do it, Mims. At this rate you'll be married in no time."

Grief flashed across the Captain's face. He covered it with a swig of beer and nodded seriously, "I might, at that."

"Your vacation will be well timed," said Scarrend. "I will have duties in the Empire for the next several weeks." He turned to Yvian. "You are welcome to come. Many of our Hunters would be delighted to spar with you."

Yvian considered it. Spend the next few weeks fighting Vrrl every day? She loved the martial arts, but... She shook her head, smiling at the monster. "No thanks, Scarrend. I'd like to do something a little more restful for my vacation."

Of course, that still left the question of where Yvian was going to go. She couldn't return to New Pixa, and she wasn't comfortable visiting the Federation so soon after the war. Maybe she could go back to Krog Prime? No. The Confederation government wanted her dead. King Tallest would try to keep her safe, but going back would still cause trouble.

"Mother Yvian," Kilroy spoke. "This unit has a suggestion." Yvian's wrist console pinged. She opened an N-mail from the Peacekeeper unit. It was an image. A Ronin battlecruiser exiting a Jumpgate. This one had The Dream of the Lady embossed in gold letters. "Big Daddy Mims commissioned a second ship. Renovations have not been completed, but the Dream of the Lady has all the necessary functions, including a swimming pool. This unit took the liberty of hiring a small staff to take care of your needs while you are on board."

"Oh." Mims had ordered another ship? A present for her? "Are you sure Big Daddy's ok with spoiling the surprise?"

"Affirmative," said the machine. "This unit and Big Daddy Mims have previously coordinated."

"Have you now?" Lissa raised an eyebrow.

Mims shrugged. "I really wanted to get you alone."

She grinned and gave him another kiss. "Good answer."

"Speaking of annoying meatbag romance," Kilroy continued, "Dr. Yuriko Miner has been requesting a meeting with Mother Yvian."

"With me?" Yvian hadn't really spoken with Yuriko since they spent the night together. The woman hadn't been nearly as smitten with Yvian as Yvian had been with her. "Why?"

"Dr. Yuriko Miner has been rewatching the holo you recorded for her since the rescue of Exodus the Creator." Kilroy elaborated. "She has watched it seventy two times. When Peacekeeper unit Dr. Roboto asked her intentions, her response was as follows:"

Yurkio's voice came out of the Peacekeeper. "Well first, I'm going to screw her brains out. Then we're going to talk."

"Oh." Yvian fell back into her chair. She tried to drink more beer but her bottle was empty.

"Damn," said the High Commander. "Yvian's got a way with the ladies, doesn't she?"

"Yes sir," deadpanned Hamilton. "I'm all aflutter again."

Yvian grinned at them. Mims handed her another beer. "I guess I should go see her, then."

"The Dream of the Lady will dock with the Unchained Melody in two hours, forty three minutes," Kilroy informed her. "Your visit has been authorized. You may leave once docking is complete."

"That's nice." Yvian smiled at the machine. "Thank you Kilroy."

"This unit will accompany you," Kilroy added. "For security reasons."

"I love you too," she told him. She drank more beer and reached for more delicious cake. "I think we'll wait til morning, though. I'm having a really nice day."