CHAPTER 21 – YOUR BRAIN GETS SMART

"Mmmmm!" Ford tried to shout at Commander Hansek, but his mouth wouldn't move. The most he could do was strain his throat.

"I wouldn't bother," she said. "The effects of the dart will take another five minutes or so to wear off. In the meantime, you can stay in this storage room. Cova will explain everything once you're less of a statue." Hansek turned to leave, then paused. "I'm sorry we couldn't do more for your pilot." Her footsteps grew quieter as she walked away.

Typher... Ford replayed everything that happened, trying to remember each detail, looking for something he'd missed, some way he could've prevented his friend's arrest. It was doomed from the start. I'm not sure how the Enforcers got onboard. Ford felt a stab of worry and guilt. I'm sure that Ben will take Vanessa to my dimension on his own, but who will help Typher?

The first muscles to come back were Ford's eyelids. He squeezed them shut, wetting his dry eyes. Frustration surged through his body at not being able to move. His arms and legs were dead weight, an obstacle holding him back. He only managed to twitch his thumb before giving out, he closed his eyes.

At least I have the crystal. The points of the box digging into his side were both painful and reassuring.

He heard a laugh. Straining his eyes, he saw Cova standing against the wall, her arms folded.

"Hold your horses," she said. "I see you twitching over there. It'll wear off soon enough."

Easy for you to say.

As though Cova could hear his thoughts, she continued. "I get it, you just lost a friend of yours. I knew Typher, you know. Great kid. Recognized his ship the instant we pulled in. Shame that the Enforcers got to him."

How does she know Typher?

Ford couldn't voice his questions, so instead he studied Cova as she leaned against the wall. Now that her face was uncovered, he could see that she was at least in her sixties. Her gray hair was tied into a long braid that came over her shoulder. Sun damage spots flecked her wrinkled face. She fiddled with her belt, her blue eyes fixed on a smoke bomb attached to her waist.

After some waiting, the rest of Ford's muscles came back all at once, relaxing from their rigid position. He stood up on wobbly legs, his head momentarily dizzy. He kept the box firmly tucked under his arm.

Cova raised her eyebrows and stopped toying with her belt. "See, wasn't so long, was it?" She walked toward a door that would lead deeper into the ship. "Follow me. I can show you where we're going and answer some questions on the way."

Going through the door, Ford walked side by side Cova as they traversed the ship. "Where do I begin? Who are you people, and how do you know Typher?"

Cova scratched her chin. "Remember that video you put on the UWC a while back? The one where you showed how the U.I.R. treats aliens they deem beneath them?"

"Of course." He could still remember the shudder of the explosion when that Republic ship dropped a lethal bomb into the Shreep's nest. He could still see the king Shreep's dead body, his fallen warriors no more than charred husks around him.

"The Black Sun Resistance is dedicated to stopping things like that from happening," Cova said. "We raise awareness and fight the Republic any way we can. Commander Hansek, the alien you met earlier, she was the one that started it all."

They passed through an empty room with dozens of lockers on the walls. Walking through a door, they entered a thin passageway.

"Listen... I'm sorry about what happened back there with Typher," Cova said. "I would've rescued him if it were possible. Back in the day, him and his dad were some of the best recruits we've ever had."

"So, they were both a part of the BSR." Ford watched a group of crew members walk past them. All of them were various types of aliens with the same black uniform. They stared at him suspiciously as he passed. "He never told me anything about this. Why did Typher leave?"

"Well, after his father was killed during a mission, he left without a goodbye. I don't know the details, and I suspect I never will. Maybe he blamed Hansek for what happened. Whatever Typher's reason was for leaving, I respect it."

They came to a large door with a symbol on it. The symbol was comprised of the letters B, S, and R standing in the middle of an eclipsed sun.

Cova pressed a button near the door and revealed a room with aliens bustling back and forth, speaking in urgent voices. A row of computers sat to one side with crew members typing away. There was a navigation deck in the center, where an alien that resembled a velociraptor with large ears watched a monitor there. The alien's yellow and black-striped face leaned in close, analyzing the ship readings.

In the window, a white circle appeared against a backdrop of stars. The ship neared the portal, which grew to take up of most of the window. Its white light beckoned them closer.

"Connection with base successful," the velociraptor alien said. "Approaching portal."

The ship passed into the glowing whiteness. The light faded until they were in complete darkness.

Lights on the front of the ship came on and illuminated a smooth, concrete tunnel. The ship headed for a bright and open area.

When the ship came into the light, landing gear connected with a solid floor. The inside of a hangar was visible beyond the window. The ship shuddered and went still.

"I'll expect you all in the mess hall in two hours. Until then, you are dismissed." Hansek saluted to everyone on the command deck. The group she was conversing with disbanded. Each member of the group had a tablet, which they traded and passed around, graphs and statistics visible on their monitors.

With upbeat conversations, all of the freedom fighters filed out of the room. A few glanced at Ford with narrowed eyes as they passed by. The velociraptor alien did a double-take as he walked past Ford, his ears twitching.

One of the BSR members patted the velociraptor alien on the arm. "Something wrong, Gandhar?"

"No, no." Gandhar turned away from Ford, shaking his head. "I thought I recognized someone."

Hansek approached Ford, her hands clasped behind her back. Now that they were standing together, Ford could see how tall Hansek was compared to him. She towered at least a foot above him. "Thank you, Cova. You are dismissed."

Cova smiled and gave Hansek a nod, then followed the stream of BSR members to leave the ship.

"I'd like you to come with me," Hansek said, placing her hand on Ford's shoulder. "We have a lot to discuss."

"That's fine by me, as long as I can get out of here quickly. I have things to get to." He kept the crystal protectively under his arm, partially hidden from view. Hansek's eyes touched on the crystal. She tilted her head with curiosity.

"A liquidation crystal," she said. "I haven't seen one of those in a long time."

"It's for a project I'm working on," Ford said.

Hansek nodded and didn't press him for details. She had a knowing look, as though she already suspected that Ford was looking to build a weapon.

Ford and Hansek followed the last trickle of crew members out of the ship and down the walkway. The artificial light overhead accentuated the hollows of Hansek's cheeks. Her fish-like face was surprisingly authoritative.

This hangar had a high ceiling, and there was a sweeping insignia on the floor that resembled a silver flower. There was a circle around it with imprinted words that said Republic Botanical Research Center.

They made their base in an abandoned U.I.R. research facility... interesting choice.

Like a mother goose would her fledglings, Hansek watched the BSR members as they entered a far-off elevator and left the hangar.

Hansek headed to a different elevator than the one the others used. The door slid aside automatically. Ford frowned at the elevator, then took up a space in the corner. The door closed with a creak, and as they were lifted upwards, Ford slid his hands into his pockets, shifting his feet as he listened to the familiar sound of machinery rattling.

The door opened and Hansek went first onto a walkway with grated floors. Ford was hit with a sickly-sweet smell as he came into the new area. On his righthand side, there were office doors with names printed on glass windows. On the other side was a railing, blocking them off from a greenhouse area far below. What might have once been a neat area with plants potted in rows was now a jungle. Some plants had exceeded their broken pots and grew to the ceiling. One tree in particular-a striped tree with pink leaves like palm tree fronds-was bent over against the top, now growing in a U shape. Fruit and decayed leaves covered the floor at the bottom. A creature with a beak trilled at them and flew across the room, swimming through the air, its body like a black ribbon.

At the end of the walkway, there was a door that said Professor Stein in faded letters, but it was crossed out with black marker; below it was the label Commander Hansek.

Hansek opened the door and stepped inside a cluttered room. Red light poured from a window on the far wall, giving the books and potted plants on her desk eerie, elongated shadows. There was a seat for Ford to take, but it was barely visible under stacks of papers and dirty plates.

Hansek took a seat on one side of the desk and Ford took the other, accidentally tipping over a stack of reports sitting next to the legs. The stack tumbled to the floor, spreading papers beneath his feet. He glanced at the titles of a few of them; they didn't seem to have anything to do with the BSR, sporting titles like Greenhouse Management and Northern Forest Toxicity Levels.

"Sorry about the mess," Hansek said. "I haven't been around to clean it lately. To be fair though, most of it isn't mine. This resistance started a long time ago, but this base is new to us. We had to find a new base of operations since our numbers have been growing. This is an old U.I.R. research facility that was forgotten some time ago."

Ford rested his chin on his laced hands, then scrutinized the potted plant on the desk. Its leaves were black, and it had tentacles around its base, poking out of the dirt. "You rescued me at the nick of time," he said. "How did you know that I was in trouble?"

"We happened to be listening. You're important to us, Stanford. When we found that you were playing Homage, we kept an eye on you. We happened to be watching the Enforcers just before they captured you."

Ford raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Hansek smiled. All of her teeth were flat and gray. "Because you, Stanford Pines, can help us with the next step in our rebellion. You have talent, and with the reputation you've already received from your time with the Shreep, you'd be a perfect influential candidate. Everyone would know who you are.

He sat back in his seat and narrowed his eyes at Hansek. "Hang on, I didn't agree to this. I know that what the Republic is doing isn't right, but I can't stay here and help you. I have a mission of my own to accomplish."

Hansek folded her arms. "Remember your video—the one that showed the Republic's brutality on Vesta? If you could do something more to get justice for the Shreep, wouldn't you do it? Imagine all of the lives you'd be helping."

"I assure you," Ford said, his shoulders squared, "that what I'm doing is far more important. Already, I've been delayed too much."

Hansek leaned in closer, her strange, diamond-pupil eyes boring into him. "What if I promised you some time in our labs? You can work on whatever it is you need to work on here." She gestured to the crystal in his lap. "You don't have to stay with us forever. Just one mission is all we'd ask."

This made Ford pause. He glanced down at the crystal.

"I can do one better," Hansek said. "What if I told you that I know where the Republic is holding Typher?"

Ford looked up from the crystal, his eyes matching Hansek's intensity. "You know where he is?"

Hansek grinned. "Of course. Bringing down that prison is the mission we had in mind—it's the one that you're suited for, seeing as how it will take a great deal of problem solving and courage. So, Stanford Pines, will you help us?" She extended her hand. "If not for standing up to the Republic, then for Typher."

The deal seemed too good to be true. He would get time to work on the quantum destabilizer here, most likely with the help of other scientists? And not only that, but they knew where Typher was? The despair that was in him lightened at the prospect of being able to help his friend, but he couldn't help but feel a faintly suspicious, if only for the reason that he didn't know Hansek or her rebel fighters very well. Even still, he didn't know where he'd get another opportunity like this.

Besides, I'm sure I can handle issues, should they arise.

A nasty voice answered him. Just like you handled Homage? Typher's dead already.

Ford ignored the voice and shook Hansek's hand, all the while trying to keep the images of Naero and Kashek's corpses from his mind.

{}{}{}{}{}

The tree branch beneath Ford whined as he inched closer to the tip. At the end of the branch, there was a cocoon of milky white, hardened saliva. The nest made of saliva was about as big as Ford's head and was glued to the branch that he was disturbing. Inside the hardened saliva, a fire glowed, like the light leaking through a lampshade. Despite the heat inside, the den was cool to the touch. Ford pulled out a knife and cut at the nest, shaving off bits and collecting them in a tin. The pieces gave way like bits of soap.

At the moment, the mother was away, off searching for food. Ford had already sketched her—she was a bat-like creature with jaws so wide they didn't seem to fit her body. With her scythe-shaped tail, she decapitated prey in one clean sweep. Afterwards, she would roast her prey with fire from her beak. Ford wasn't sure if the nightmarish creature already possessed a name; if it did, it was probably lost amid the old documents back at the facility. He'd already come up with his own name: the grim sweeper.

If his observations were correct, he only had a few minutes to collect his sample before she would be back to protect her young. Since the nest seemed to be fire-resistant, it would be valuable to study it in case it proved to be useful for the quantum destabilizer.

A pinging noise came from his wrist. Recently, one of the scientists at the lab had modified his translator so that it also worked as a communication device. It was a simple matter of installing a bit of software, and now others could contact him through it. He pressed a button on his bracelet.

"Stanford, come to the meeting room on the second floor immediately," Commander Hansek said. "We have something to discuss."

"I'll be there in five minutes."

His branch shook. There was a crash behind him and the sound of branches breaking. Ford swiveled around to face the noise and was met with a view of the mother's open jaws. She had rows of teeth, like a shark, and her tongue was like a black tentacle. Saliva hit him in the face as she screeched.

She's back early!

Ford yelped, then lost his grip. He tumbled through the air, his back hitting the ground. He wheezed, his rib cage protesting against the breath.

He got to his feet slowly, then picked up his journal. He brushed off the pages, which had been face-down in the mud, and sighed. The entry it landed on was still legible, but mud-stains would mark the pages forever.

The creature was in her nest now, shrieking at him, but she didn't attack him further.

Ford shook his head and walked in the direction of the facility. At least I got a small sample.

The facility poked above the black-leaved trees, its round, gray surface reflecting the constant red light of the sun. On this moon, which Ford learned was called Rifajek, the sky looked like it was in a constant state of sunset thanks to the pathetic light from the red star.

Everything there felt foreign and sinister. The trees were jagged, and every plant had black leaves to make up for the lack of light. The setting bothered his eyes. A few days had passed and he still wasn't used to the jungle of dark plants. His brain was fought against what he was seeing every time he looked around.

Ford looked up, taking in the view of the gas giant in the sky. This enormous planet was a striped orange and red, looking somewhat like Jupiter. It took up a large section of the sky, with most of it in shadow.

Ford came to the edge of the facility and walked through the door of the main greenhouse. He avoided stepping in the colorful fruit that was rotting on the floor. Creatures with black fur squeaked and avoided his step, running from the fruit and returning to it once he had walked past.

There were a few plants in the greenhouse that seemed especially odd to Ford. One of them had leaves shaped like balloons, and it glowed and hummed. Another had vines that wiggled and searched the ground for bits of fruit, once coming close to Ford's boots and recoiling. If he had more time, he would make it a point to study them, but he was currently spending most of his days in the lab.

He exited the greenhouse and entered the main part of the facility, then made his way up a flight of stairs and found a set of double doors. Pushing past them, he came to the meeting room. Four heads turned to look at him from their places around a table. He recognized Cynia, a small alien that resembled a puffball, as one of the scientists that had helped him get acquainted with the lab. Ford took a place near her. Her piercing blue fur was ridden with static electricity and stood up at odd angles. Her hand-stitched white lab coat looked as though it could fit a doll.

Hansek stood at the end of the table, her hands clasped behind her back. "Good. Now that you're here, we can start." She focused her attention on Ford. "Stanford, as you know, Typher is located in the prison on Iopedinea. I've been talking with my informants, and apparently there has been a change in wardens. This would be the best time to mount an attack. The inexperienced warden will be helpless against our plan."

Ford thought of the unfinished quantum destabilizer in the lab. There was still much to be done. While he had made great progress in the past few days, it was only a start.

What if something happens to me while I'm rescuing Typher?

His hand resting on the table curled into a fist.

The undermining voice in his head nipped at him with sharp, biting words. Don't you think it's strange that you're thinking of putting so much effort into rescuing this new friend of yours when Stanley is still adrift in space?

His brow furrowed. This is different. I don't know where Stanley is. Typher is within my grasp, and his situation is my fault. I can't leave him behind.

But what if something happened? Are you really going to risk the safety of the multiverse and your brother for this one person, even if he is your friend?

Hansek watched Ford's face as though she could read the struggle happening in his head.

"I understand if you're reluctant to leave behind the quantum destabilizer," she said. "I assure you, if you succeed—and it's likely you will—we'll give you all the time, help, and resources you need in our labs to finish your project. Cynia will take good care of it while you're gone."

Ford leaned back in his chair, saying nothing, the pros, cons, and likelihoods weighing in his mind.

Hansek breathed out, suddenly looking tired. "Stanford, there's more. I probably should've told you sooner. The Gladwell Research Center is a... different... sort of prison. The prisoners are kept inside a computer simulation for most hours of the day. While in the simulation, experiments are run by an artificial intelligence. No one except Republic officers, workers, and prisoners know what the experiments are truly like. But there have been rumors."

Ford raised an eyebrow. "What sort of rumors?"

"Deaths. Prisoners losing their minds. The AI can torture its prisoners without leaving a scratch on their bodies."

Ford's mouth fell open. It's only been a few days. Surely he's still alive... but what are they doing to him there? Ford's memory threw images of medieval torture devices at him, like the brazen bull and the Catherine wheel. He shuddered inwardly. Humans in the past could be exceptionally cruel. He could only imagine what things were like in this futuristic realm with little supervision. He'd seen the Republic's brutality in the past; there was no reason to think they couldn't be ruthless now.

I can't leave him there.

That assertion seemed to make the opposing voice quiet down, if only temporarily. A final decision came to him and he felt more at ease despite the danger.

Ford leaned forward, placing all twelve of his fingers on the table, then stared Hansek in the eye. "Do you have a plan?"

"Somewhat. This prison is heavily fortified," Hansek said. "There's an AI that manages security, and our ships would be blasted from the sky if we came close. At first we didn't know how to combat this, until Cynia presented me with an idea." She nodded to a puffball sitting beside her.

Cynia stood on the table to address the group. "My plan is to have Stanford infiltrate the facility as one of the prisoners and give the AI a virus. After that, the BSR will bombard the prison and free everyone inside."

"What do you think, Stanford?" Hansek asked, her diamond eyes combing over Ford. "Can you do it?"

Ford forced himself to relax. His fingers unclenched and his breathing slowed. I'll be back for the quantum destabilizer soon. "Yes. I can."

"Excellent," Hansek said. "Cynia will take you to the lab to install the virus." She waved a hand. "You're all dismissed."

Ford left the room and followed the Cynia down the stairs. After walking for a few paces, they came to a door that was labeled as LAB. Ford came in after her, and the door clicked shut behind him.

A familiar scene greeted him. Robotic parts were scattered on the floor. A fish tank sat in the corner, but instead of containing fish or water, it was full of nuts and bolts. There was a desk off to the side covered in a spaghetti of colored wires—Cynia's usual workplace.

In the corner of the room, the crystal that Ford got from Yaven was sitting on a counter. The beginnings of a gun sat beside it, with only a frame and wires in place. Pages of handwritten calculations sat beside it. The gun was far from finished, but with help from Cynia and the other scientists at the facility, it was a good start. From what the others had told him, the only thing that would kill Bill Cipher was something that would destabilize him at a quantum level. With the crystal, Ford had the beginnings of a promising weapon. His eyes lingered on it.

"Cynia, what did Hansek mean when she said install the virus?" Ford asked.

"An explanation is in order," Cynia said. She peeked around a table and found a box that fit in her palm. Opening the box, she revealed a green computer chip the size of a pea. "This is the virus. We need to install this chip in your brain. Once your mind is connected to the AI, all you have to do is interact with it."

He touched his temple. "Are you qualified to do something like that?"

"I'm not, but our medical department is," Cynia said. "Don't worry, Stanford. They've handled worse."

She turned her small body to look at the form curled up on a workbench. The alien sleeping there was thin, with blue and black stripes covering his scaled body. Ford knew him as Gleckna.

"Gleckna, wake up!" Cynia hissed.

Gleckna jumped, then covered his eyes. Turning his head, he blinked at Ford with black eyes. He yawned and stood up from the workbench, scratching a crest of white fur on top of his head. Buttoning together his disheveled and stained lab coat, his eyes fixed on the virus.

"Is it time?" he asked.

"Yes," Cynia said. "Go get the others from the medical wing. This shouldn't take long."

"How soon will I recover?" Ford said. Although he kept an air of calm, his palms were sweating.

"With some time in a healing pod, you'll be fully recovered in ten hours," Cynia said.

Am I really going to do this?

Ford thought of Typher stuck in prison, alone, crying out with pain and writhing as the AI tortured him. Could he forgive himself if he walked away, leaving Typher to that fate, knowing full well that it was Ford's fault?

No, I don't think I could. I have to try.

Gleckna left the room and was back within minutes with two more aliens in tow. One of them was a centaur-like creature, with four legs on the ground and a torso with arms. The centaur had a pair of horns with a surgical mask hooked between them. The other alien was green, gelatinous, and had six pairs of arms. The new aliens were pulling a cot on wheels behind them.

"Mr. Pines, I'd like you to meet the best surgeons in the Resistance." Gleckna gestured to the surgeons. "This is Balzar." He motioned toward the centaur, "and his pal, Guynon." The green alien made noises that sounded like bubbles popping.

"Nice to meet you," Ford said.

Gleckna rubbed his clawed hands together. "Mr. Pines, please lie down on this cot." Gleckna gestured towards the cot.

Ford rested his back on the padding, which was surprisingly soft. He rested his hands on his stomach and twiddled his thumbs with nervous energy. The aliens peered over him, their heads blocking out the intense overhead light.

"We'll be done soon, Mr. Pines," Balzar grumbled in a gravelly voice. "We're going to inject you with a serum that will knock you out. When you wake up, the procedure will be complete."

Guynon raised a syringe, which was filled with a deep red liquid that resembled cherry syrup.

At the sight of the needle, his heart rate picked up without his consent. No, relax. Just breathe. Concentrate on what you have to do. It'll all be over soon.

He closed his eyes as Guynon pierced his arm with the needle. He winced, but the pain quickly faded. As Ford drifted off, the voices of the surgeons became muffled and indistinct. He suddenly wasn't worried about the surgery. Even if complications arose, they were a future Ford's problem now.

{}{}{}{}{}

Ford groaned and squeezed his eyes tight. He rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, tasting the dryness. His fuzzy mind collected itself, slowly rising to the surface of consciousness. He felt like he was underwater, with something unseen filling his ears and muffling the ambience of the room he was in.

Opening his eyes, he found that he was in a darkened room. There was a single lamp standing in the corner, giving off soft light. Glancing around him, Ford saw that he was in what looked like a hospital room. A sink sat on the far wall beside tools that were attached to the wall. On his right, there was a window with curtains drawn. Red light slipped through the curtains onto the tile floor.

"Hey, Stanford, are you awake?" a voice whispered in his ear.

"Eyah!" Ford jerked away and immediately regretted it. He gripped his head as it spun and looked at Cynia, who had shied away from his sudden shout, her fur fluffed out. "Er, Sorry," he said.

"T-that's okay." Cynia gave her fur a shake, settling it. "I'm glad to see you're doing well."

Ford felt the right side of his head. There was a white bandage the size of his palm there. They had shaved his hair where the surgery was; he would probably have a rectangle on his head for a month or so.

He sat up. The grogginess was like a haze in his head.

"They put extra painkillers in your system," Cynia said. "You shouldn't feel any pain. As far as I can tell, the surgery was a success. I've tested this technology before, but not on a human. I just hope..." Cynia trailed off. She bit her fingers.

"Cynia," Ford said gently, "I'm sure it'll work fine. You made it, after all."

Cynia dropped her stubby hand and smiled at Ford, her mouth barely visible under all of her fur.

"Oh, and another thing," Cynia said, "I told the surgeons that you were looking to fight Bill Cipher, and they thought it would be a good idea to install a metal plate in your head to combat his powers. That should stop him from controlling your mind should you ever run into him."

Ford blinked at Cynia. "They... installed a metal plate... in my head?" He knew he should've been saying thank you. Ford had been concerned about the issue, seeing as how his past deal with Bill made him vulnerable to his control. Still, he couldn't shake the sense of violation.

"Is it a problem?" The adorable puffball tugged at her fur with her tiny hands. "I'm sorry. I thought you'd like it."

"No... it's just..." Ford sighed and smiled at the blue puffball. "Thank you for doing that. Are you sure it will work?"

"Certain," she said.

Ford's fingers traced the rectangle of bandage. It was hard for him to believe that under his fingers was a metal plate.

"I'll go report to Commander Hansek," Cynia said. "She'll want to know that you're awake. Rest up. We'll bring you to a healing pod shortly."

Cynia hopped off the chair beside Ford's bed and skittered over to the door. She slipped through the automatic door, leaving him there alone.

Ford thought about getting up, but he was suddenly overcome by a wave of lethargy. Laying his head deeper into his padded cot, he filled his mind with plans for the future. If the best-case scenario happens, and I rescue Typher and complete the gun early here, then maybe I can find Stanley.

The idea brought with it an image of their reunion. He imagined meeting Stanley, dirty and battered from traveling in the multiverse. After being frightened and alone, Ford would return and take him back to the realm of the familiar. And after that... well, they'd likely part ways again. Stanley hadn't changed much since their time in high school. There was no reason to think that he wasn't still the selfish person he'd been then. Their fight over the journal had proven that.

I'll set all of this right. Everyone just has to hold on for a little longer.

{}{}{}{}{}

Off to the side of the docking area, a ship stood proud and tall despite how small and beat down it was. Ford stood beside the ship, looking at its poor condition, his hands on his hips. The outside wasn't as sleek as the other ships; it was like comparing a minivan to a lot filled with sports cars. It had a battered white paint job with a red stripe down its side, and a name on the tip that read Supernova.

After some time in one of the many healing pods in the medical wing, Ford felt just as he had when he came, if not better. Now that he had recovered, it was time to stare down the next phase of the plan: infiltration.

A few others were there as well, wishing him luck. Cova stood among the small crowd, her arms folded and her face neutral. If she was worried for him, he couldn't tell. Everyone else seemed either excited or nervous. Gleckna was grinning broadly and kneading his hands with eagerness. Cynia, on the other hand, was fidgeting and pulling at her fur.

"I'm sorry about the ship," Commander Hansek said beside him. "It's the only thing we can afford to lose. Be careful not to bump it too much. It's just barely passable for interstellar flight."

"It's no trouble," Ford said. "I'll make it work."

"Good luck!" Gleckna called out.

Ford walked to the keypad on the back of the ship and input the correct code on the clunky interface. The keypad made a happy electronic jingle and a door in the back unlocked. Ford walked into the cool interior of the ship. Lazy artificial lights flickered on.

"Welcome Captain," a woman's automated voice said.

The inside of the ship was cramped, with crushed cans littering the walk-in lounge area. The smell of old food hung in the air. There was a thin box of something that looked like purple ham sitting on the floor in the center of the room. Something black and fuzzy sat in the box. When Ford walked in, it scurried to somewhere more obscure, no more than a blur of movement.

Ford wrinkled his nose as he stepped over the box and entered the cockpit. There was a film of dirt on the white upholstery. Ford brushed the dirt away as best he could and sat down in the pilot seat. The console was filled with buttons, and half of the labels were scraped off. He didn't dare to touch anything.

"Computer?" he said tentatively.

"Yes?" The computer answered.

"Can you switch this ship into autopilot? I need to get off the planet."

"Affirmative. Beginning take-off."

Ford breathed a sigh of relief as the ship roared to life. Its frame shook more than the Maverick's as it lifted into the air, moving itself to the open tunnel. The ship darted into the tunnel and gathered speed, zooming out over trees and heading skyward into the open dark blue. Stars winked at Ford from beyond the atmosphere.

"Computer, take me to the nearest Republic territory with a lot of Enforcer activity."

"Understood. Navigating to Republic sector zero-zero-nine."

I hope this works. Ford sat back in his seat, trying to relax despite how tense he felt.

In the distance, he could see a faint pink cloud. He squinted and realized that the thing in the distance was a nebula. He couldn't tell exactly how large it was, but from this distance, he could see its entirety. Bright stars glittered like gems from within.

Wow... it's one thing to see them in a textbook, but to see this much of space in person... it's almost unfair. I know a few astronomers back home that would kill for this view.

Just as Ford was getting used to the stars, they turned blue. Although Ford had seen Typher used FTL travel once before, he still wasn't prepared for the stars to stretch and squish. He gripped his seat and flinched away from the window.

Within minutes, the ship stopped. The nebula was closer, taking up most of his view.

Ford waited.

A voice crackled on the ship's intercom. "This is the Republic enforcing squadron of sector zero-zero-nine. Your intergalactic travel registration is out of date. Please stall your ship so that we can scan it and everything inside."

That was fast. "Computer, stall the ship."

"Understood."

The ship slowed, coming to a stop.

"Holy—" the intercom crackled. It came back on, and this time the voice was hesitant. "S-Stanford Pines, you are under arrest for crimes against the U.I.R. and... and an out of date intergalactic travel registration."

Here we go.

Irug grhvq'w nqrz zkdw nlqg ri phvv kh'v jrwwhq klpvhoi lqwr.