Elan
Teshbulr City
Coreward Plowshares Suite

"It is perhaps our best chance," said Halura. He was speaking rhetorically, now. Most of the other members were convinced that he was correct. "We can't launch the Ifsh'Dfrill knowing that the Thrynn are probably just waiting for it to make open space. It's a long way to the Staff-Pythagoras line."

"Indeed," said Haluful, "and the line is still some time from completion. The attack on Vell Bralis Nova wrought considerable havoc on their operations."

"The latest word is that New Scotland Commerce and Transport has regained its balance. The Mechan vessel has begun deploying the buoys again," said Hllfus.

"I hold hope that the entire effort may yet bear fruit. However, I believe that we must get our alternate provision in motion." Halura knew the gambit was desperate, but it was also spontaneous. Even if the Thrynn had found out at this point, there would be little time to mount an effective response. "May I consider the group to be in agreement?" They assented. "Very well. I shall dispatch a message to our contact. Things should be under way in short order."

The Elowan Frontier, Thrynn Space
Expeditionary Dock Hssths

General Hoss'Vnn was bent under the weight of ninety-four years. His crippled body rested in a throne-like seat in his study on the starboard wing of the bridge module. The room was lit with dim red light. The study looked cold and sterile, but the chamber was warm like the swamps of equatorial Thoss. Hoss'Vnn's circulation had deteriorated beyond tolerating anything much cooler. Even young Thrynn hated the cold. The merciless cold during the Ghettus Row campaign had come far closer to beating the Royal Marines than the Numlox ever had. An iron pride still coursed through Hoss'Vnn's hardened veins.

The attack on Vell Bralis Nova had been a masterstroke. The General labored for months to acquire the necessary materials and the support of his rivals. The purchase of the Spemin vessels had been particularly difficult. Cowering the blobs had been simple, but maintaining a veil of secrecy had been nearly impossible. It took a monstrous effort to refit the Spemin vessels to Gazurtoid specifications. Nobody knew how the Spemin had happened across Gazurtoid vessels, but they had. Hoss'Vnn had even gone so far as to stage a few skirmishes on the Gazurtoid frontier. The detailed information on Gazurtoid tactics had come at the price of a patrol frigate. The few survivors had been horribly burned. But the effort had borne sweet fruit. The Staff-Pythagoras line had been halted. It would have been more effective to attack the Mechan ship actually laying the buoys, but that would have been too obvious, too direct. Besides, it was only a temporary measure. To know precisely the location was impossible, but somewhere in the Dead Zone the frigate Kryssthoggr slid toward its objective.

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Next: "Connections"

Therapy is roving the space lanes! You know what that means--that's right! It's Voyager night on UPN. "Captain, there's a self-esteem vortex forming off the port side!" "Re-modulate the transmitter array!" Can I catch a break, here?

"Hilsfar & Company: Because She/It Is Right Behind You"