Thoss World
Standard Orbit
Thrynn Frigate Jussru

Colonel Venn’Bk poured over records while the patrol ships of the Elite Guard pounded away with their sensors, trying to find something. There had to be some trace—some glitch in the average spatial mass of incoming freighters, some unaccountable scan echo—something. But finding them here was unlikely; better to set a trap elsewhere. The colonel reached across his console and hit the comm box to the bridge. “Captain Rssa,” he ordered, “bring usss out of orbit and ssset us on the outbound lane. Sssignal the Elite Guard to maintain their local search.”

Thoss World
The Swamps
SS Yardbird

The Yardbird skimmed just above the dense canopy as Nexbo piloted her between the hills and cliffs that wound through the vast swamps. “The sssignal isss now four kilometerss sssouth-sssouth wesst,” reported Yssk from his console. “Two minutesss approach time.” Boz stood up from his chair, threw on his gear harness and tightened the straps.

“Nexbo, you’re flying solo. We’ll be standing by aft.” Boz and Yssk made their way back to the cargo hatch through the cramped passageway and powered up the winch. Nexbo closed in on the signal, wondering where the clearing would be in the mess of trees. As it turned out, there was none, but his sharp insectoid eyes caught the glint coming up off of Grssn’s portable radar. The machinist and sometime pilot coaxed the lazy Yardbird into a hover only six or seven meters above the
transmitter.

Grssn poked his head through the leaves as the patch work space ship eased into position. He didn’t have to call to senator HvHuss who was already making his way from below; both had heard the whining engines as Yardbird made its low approach from the north. The young Thrynn detached the radar dish from its cord, folded it into his pack and then looked up to see a hatch open on the underside of their waiting rescue. A Thrynn face came into view. Yssk was leaning just over the edge of the opening and he waved before lowering a line from the winch assembly.

Deep Space
Uhlek Badlands

It was in many ways like watching the most delicate ballet. For decades, they had stumbled around space in small, disordered groups, moving from impulse to impulse. Now, suddenly, there was something to grasp and hold them. The crescent vessels moved in precise, flowing patterns, following a remarkable symmetry that matched the mental emanations of the dark lightning. The horrible creature was naturally attuned to the Leghk minds—it had been bred to that tendency. The ships moved in their intricate pattern until they reached source of the powerful mind, flying graceful circles around it. And a ship called Regepple.

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Next: “RV”

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