CHAPTER EIGHT

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Everyone on the bridge was fixated on the cargo pod as it slowly shrank into the opening of a Shun Shudo’s auxiliary bay.

“They took it,” Erik said.

“What’s next?” Yuriel asked him, still obviously concerned with the presence of the intruders on the bridge.

“Get me the Cambrian. Do you remember if Santti Cyto is still first officer aboard that ship? He’s generally more conversational than his Captain if I’m remembering correctly,” Erik said.

Yuriel silently moved to connect the two ships by a comm line. All the while, the rest of the crew were keeping the boarding party on the bridge and isolated from their weapons. Having them run rampant throughout the ship would be a nightmare nobody wanted to deal with despite the fact that the longer they stayed on the ship, the more docile they seemed. Ulrich and Nahko held the weapon cache while keeping an eye trained on At’hala, Mun’gale, and K’rah, to make sure that they didn't try anything. The safety of the entire crew hinged on keeping the violence aboard the Hellbender to a minimum. At’hala sat on the floor, watching Erik intently. The other two seemed to be speaking to each other, but no emotion could be sensed from them. There was no anger or fear. The Rostran exhibited a Zen-like peace that Erik found himself coveting.

“Cambrian online. Come in Hellbender,” said a voice that filled the bridge. “Cyto! Is that you? We’re in a bit of trouble here if you’re able to help us out.” “I see you’re in quite the predicament. Surrounded and boarded. It seems like

trouble follows you.”

“Sure. Whatever. Can you help? I don’t have a whole lot of time here. These cruisers have ambushed us, but I've been able to stall them. My ship and crew are currently not bloody debris. But I can’t guarantee that for much longer, though.”

“Recent actions?”
“Are you asking about orders? Do we have time for that?”
“My orders require it to be so.”
Erik slammed a fist into the console in front of him. The sound made several

crewmembers jump. Loud noises while in small spaces during tense situations can startle a human in distress. He looked back to At’hala. He felt his empty eyes scrutinizing, plotting.

“I haven’t received any orders since I crossed into Rostran warspace. My bridge crew was assaulted. Through heroic actions of my crew we are having this conversation. Now I have the Ros Altanna here ready to fuck me if my ship even dares to move or if anything happens to my hostages. Can we come up with a plan here?”

“I’ll have to refer to my group leader before acting. I am simply verifying the integrity of the Captain, health of the ship, and safety of its hostages. That’s all. Goodbye, Captain.”

The line went dead. Erik swiveled his Captain’s chair around to face the majority of the crew. He looked into the eyes of every human he led and every Rostran he held. The conversation with Cyto struck him as odd, although maybe people who didn't spend much time on the bridge might not think anything odd of it. I have to go with that. I have to say something to these people.

“That was Officer Cyto of the Cambrian. I want you to know that when a Ministry ship is in distress, the rescue effort becomes not unlike a- you know what- I’ll save the metaphor. You guys don’t need that. This situation is delicate, that is what you need to know. We now have to trust that the Cambrian and its group will resolve this situation.”

“Captain, we have another incoming message. Actually, it’s a wide-band message over many frequencies, probably intended for the Rostran ships. Do we patch in?” Yuriel asked him.

“Let’s listen. I know we’re all ready for this to be over with.” He swiveled the chair back to his command position.

Yuriel issued a simple command to the system. The occupants of the bridge were beginning to become uncomfortable being crammed in such a relatively small space, but if the standoff went awry, well, everyone had the same thoughts and sentiments on that issue. Some were fidgeting slightly, but stopped when they heard the voice transmitting in over the loudspeaker. It sounded like a garbled mess. It was as if there was some signal distortion along the way.

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