millennia."
"Insufficient data, as our tame computer would say." D'Trelna thoughtfully circled the cup rim with a thick finger. "I would like very much to get to Terra Two."
"You can't—not if Harrison destroyed the portal."
"There may be another way." He turned, staring through the armorglass at Earth and the Moon beyond.
A silver spacecraft drifted by, running on n-gravs for the hangar deck aft.
"Shuttle coming in." He glanced at the wall chronometer. "American, I believe. If it's more social scientists with those quaint recording machines and inane questions, I'm hiding."
"But they're so earnest, J'Quel," said L'Wrona.
The commodore raised an eyebrow. "You were certainly very earnest with that lovely young anthropologist— the one who shared your quarters, for what? two watches?"
L'Wrona blushed. "You're a voyeur, D'Trelna."
'' Bored—merely bored.''
A moment later, the alert klaxon brought them to their feet, startled.
"Battle stations. Battle stations." The view through the armorglass blurred as the shield went to battle force.
"This is no drill," warned the bridge. "This is no drill."
D'Trelna took an MK 1A from his desk.
"Command officers to the bridge. Command officers to the bridge."
Weapons in hand, the two rushed into the corridor. Officers and crew filled the passageways, running for their posts.
Captain and commodore burst onto the bridge, the battle klaxon still rattling through the long miles of the ship.
"Status," said L'Wrona to the XO, Commander T'Lei K'Raoda.
"Mr. Sutherland ..." began the young officer.
"I requested T'Lei bring the ship to alert, H'Nar," said Bill Sutherland. The CIA Director stood to their right, by navigation.
"What is the nature of the emergency?" asked L'Wrona, eyes flicking to the tacscan up on the main board. Terran communications satellites, space junk and V'Tran's Glory standing five units off to port. AH green plotted, all normal.
The battle klaxon stopped.
"As I was having breakfast this morning, Guan-Sharick appeared, au naturel, said four words and vanished. I left the granola scattered over the floor and grabbed the next shuttle from Andrews. I didn't dare use the commnet."
"What did the bug say?" asked D'Trelna.
The nearest bridge crew pretended not to listen.
"He said, 'The portal is back.' "
"Shit," said D'Trelna in English. He sank into the flag officer's chair, behind and above the captain's.
"High alert, Commander K'Raoda," ordered L'Wrona. "All S'Cotar countermeasures into effect."
"He also said to warn you—the machines need another star drive to punch through to their home universe. They'll be coming for one of yours."
"Sir, V'Tran's' shield has been down for half the watch," said K'Raoda.
L'Wrona and D'Trelna exchanged worried glances. "T'Lei, why didn't you report that?" asked the captain.
"It's only an anomaly during high alert, sir."
D'Trelna shook his head mumbling something. He punched into the commnet. "Commodore to V'Tran's Glory."
A woman's round face filled his commscreen. She was about D'Trelna's age, with close-cropped, graying hair. The bottom edge of the pickup just caught the gleam of the starship captain's silver insignia on her collar.
"How's that shield coming, H'Tan?" asked D'Trelna.
"Just about ready, Commodore," she said. "We'd have had it sooner, but I'm short three shield techs. Shore leave."
D'Trelna grunted. "Very well. Keep me posted." His finger paused over the cutoff.
"Oh, H'Tan. Just got a skipcomm from Fleet." He smiled knowingly. "Admiral T'Bul sends you his warmest compliments."
The destroyer captain's face brightened. "D'Trelna, you've made my watch."
"And you mine," said D'Trelna as her image disappeared. He swiveled the chair to face L'Wrona. "I think we should send V'Tran's Glory our warmest compliments, H'Nar."
"Agreed." Face a graven mask, he turned to K'Raoda. "V'Tran's Glory is taken, T'Lei. Blow her away."
K'Raoda had heard the exchange between D'Trelna and the destroyer. Calling up
"Insufficient data, as our tame computer would say." D'Trelna thoughtfully circled the cup rim with a thick finger. "I would like very much to get to Terra Two."
"You can't—not if Harrison destroyed the portal."
"There may be another way." He turned, staring through the armorglass at Earth and the Moon beyond.
A silver spacecraft drifted by, running on n-gravs for the hangar deck aft.
"Shuttle coming in." He glanced at the wall chronometer. "American, I believe. If it's more social scientists with those quaint recording machines and inane questions, I'm hiding."
"But they're so earnest, J'Quel," said L'Wrona.
The commodore raised an eyebrow. "You were certainly very earnest with that lovely young anthropologist— the one who shared your quarters, for what? two watches?"
L'Wrona blushed. "You're a voyeur, D'Trelna."
'' Bored—merely bored.''
A moment later, the alert klaxon brought them to their feet, startled.
"Battle stations. Battle stations." The view through the armorglass blurred as the shield went to battle force.
"This is no drill," warned the bridge. "This is no drill."
D'Trelna took an MK 1A from his desk.
"Command officers to the bridge. Command officers to the bridge."
Weapons in hand, the two rushed into the corridor. Officers and crew filled the passageways, running for their posts.
Captain and commodore burst onto the bridge, the battle klaxon still rattling through the long miles of the ship.
"Status," said L'Wrona to the XO, Commander T'Lei K'Raoda.
"Mr. Sutherland ..." began the young officer.
"I requested T'Lei bring the ship to alert, H'Nar," said Bill Sutherland. The CIA Director stood to their right, by navigation.
"What is the nature of the emergency?" asked L'Wrona, eyes flicking to the tacscan up on the main board. Terran communications satellites, space junk and V'Tran's Glory standing five units off to port. AH green plotted, all normal.
The battle klaxon stopped.
"As I was having breakfast this morning, Guan-Sharick appeared, au naturel, said four words and vanished. I left the granola scattered over the floor and grabbed the next shuttle from Andrews. I didn't dare use the commnet."
"What did the bug say?" asked D'Trelna.
The nearest bridge crew pretended not to listen.
"He said, 'The portal is back.' "
"Shit," said D'Trelna in English. He sank into the flag officer's chair, behind and above the captain's.
"High alert, Commander K'Raoda," ordered L'Wrona. "All S'Cotar countermeasures into effect."
"He also said to warn you—the machines need another star drive to punch through to their home universe. They'll be coming for one of yours."
"Sir, V'Tran's' shield has been down for half the watch," said K'Raoda.
L'Wrona and D'Trelna exchanged worried glances. "T'Lei, why didn't you report that?" asked the captain.
"It's only an anomaly during high alert, sir."
D'Trelna shook his head mumbling something. He punched into the commnet. "Commodore to V'Tran's Glory."
A woman's round face filled his commscreen. She was about D'Trelna's age, with close-cropped, graying hair. The bottom edge of the pickup just caught the gleam of the starship captain's silver insignia on her collar.
"How's that shield coming, H'Tan?" asked D'Trelna.
"Just about ready, Commodore," she said. "We'd have had it sooner, but I'm short three shield techs. Shore leave."
D'Trelna grunted. "Very well. Keep me posted." His finger paused over the cutoff.
"Oh, H'Tan. Just got a skipcomm from Fleet." He smiled knowingly. "Admiral T'Bul sends you his warmest compliments."
The destroyer captain's face brightened. "D'Trelna, you've made my watch."
"And you mine," said D'Trelna as her image disappeared. He swiveled the chair to face L'Wrona. "I think we should send V'Tran's Glory our warmest compliments, H'Nar."
"Agreed." Face a graven mask, he turned to K'Raoda. "V'Tran's Glory is taken, T'Lei. Blow her away."
K'Raoda had heard the exchange between D'Trelna and the destroyer. Calling up
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