The days went by, and the Rodger Young continued on her ballistic path to the system's jump point. Van Horn spent the time telling Mikula and Pavlo about how things worked, and also began to teach them English, since they were heading to a place where no one would know their native tongue, save van Horn.

The two lupar had also gotten another taste of microgravity at turnaround, where the ship, having accelerated continuously for days, had cut thrust and began the deceleration that was necessary if they didn't want to fly into deep space. Predictably, they hadn't liked it much, but it was only a taste of the wait they would endure later.

I am getting tired of this. Mikula thought to himself as the Young again stopped boosting and microgravity returned. Van Horn had warned them, of course, about their return to the strange state. It still doesn't make it any less disorienting.

Mikula sat in another observation lounge, though this one had been built into the skin, rather than above it, so that people could have a safe place to be during jumps. Pavlo and van Horn were, of course, with him in the lounge, the trio having become practically inseparable as van Horn struggled to teach them the things they'd know if he couldn't there to help.

Now, the group sat in a group of chairs arranged so that they could be used while the ship was underway. But they had also been equipped with belts, which van Horn had insisted they fasten for the jump.

He had, of course, spent some time explaining to the idea of faster-than-light travel, but he couldn't tell them much, since they didn't know English well enough yet, and Lupari, of course, lacked even words for 'hyperspatial physics.'

Three tones sounded over the ship's intercom and a male voice rang out. "All hands, secure stations for jump. We jump in five minutes." Mikula had learned enough from van Horn to understand the message, for which he was grateful. It's much nicer to be able to know things for myself, rather than have Earl repeat everything for Pavlo and me. Not that I didn't appreciate his efforts, but I don't like being helpless.

"I hope you both could understand that?" Van Horn asked the two lupar, who nodded in return. "Good. Now, I know I've said this before, but I'll say it again; what we're about to go through is very, very intense." He took a breath and closed his eyes as if to remember. "You will see things, and hear things, and know things that will boggle your mind and overwhelm your senses. However, don't' panic, because it will be over in seconds and everything will be fine."

Pavlo grunted. "But you said that we may feel queasy afterwards?" He asked, understandably worried since he seemed to have a weaker stomach than his brother.

Van Horn nodded in reply. "Yes. Everyone, and I mean everyone is always nauseated for a bit afterwards. This usually lasts about a minute or two." He then cleared his throat a bit before going on. "However, there are some cases where certain people can be sick for hours after a jump. It's not all that common, but it can happen. So if you're sick longer than me - since I've been through a jump and don't suffer that problem - then tell me, because then we can help you with some medicine that will make it less... Aggravating."

Mikula sighed. "You mean less painful."

Van Horn turned to him and nodded reluctantly. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I just hope that you two don't suffer from TDS as some people do."

Pavlo frowned. "Tee dee ess? What is that?"

"Oh, that's the acronym for 'transit disorientation syndrome.' Which is the fancy way of saying 'chronic jumpsickness.'" Although they had been speaking Lupari - the more to comfort the two lupar as they ventured into an unfamiliar experience - van Horn had to constantly add English words and phrases. It helps that I taught them what an acronym means, he thought to himself. Lord knows they need to know it, since the military has a fetish for them.

Before anyone could say anything more, a series of five tones played. "Here we go." Van Horn said, beating the jump by a second.

Mikula wasn't sure of what to expect, but what happened was beyond anything he could have imagined. As he looked out at the stars, as van Horn had suggested, they seemed to expand from dots of light to a million shimmering globes of blindingly bright light that then morphed into vague shapes that were filled with colors without name. Their light and a sound not felt nor heard, but experienced nonetheless assailed his senses. For an instant, the assault cleared and Mikula felt as if he could see everything, know everything, as his consciousness seemed to expand painfully to accept all the knowledge of the universe. Then, just when it seemed that he would be driven mad form the lights, sounds and knowing, the hyperspace gate snapped closed, and the Rodger Young materialized at the nadir jump point of her destination.

Mikula felt the sickness one usually associates with being thrown about in a paint shaker, and like all rational beings, he felt a strange sense of loss after having touched something far larger than himself.

But he didn't really care at that moment, as his stomach did flip-flops that made adjusting to microgravity seem tame in comparison. Like his brother, he panted to try and keep his breathing under control. "What... How... What...?" Was all he could say between breaths.

Van Horn gave a weak grin, though he himself didn't feel much better. "I told you." It was all he could say before he gulped to keep his lunch down. The three sat there for a couple of minutes, until the last effects wore off.

It is as Earl said it would be, Mikula realized as the nausea drained away. "That was... I really don't have any words for it." He said aloud.

"No one really does." Van Horn agreed. "People have tried, many times, to describe the sensation of a jump. But no words, written or spoken, can truly convey the feeling."

"Do you ever get used to it?" Pavlo asked curiously. Van Horn shook his head. "No, you never do. No matter how many times you go through one, each jump is different." He shrugged. "No one knows why."

"Strange..."

Several decks above, the command crew was already moving.

"Navigator, confirm our location." Captain Ladavic demanded.

"Sir, star charts match up. We have arrived at the nadir jump point of the SLGC-349877 system." The male navigator responded, rattling off the old Star League Galactic Chart number.

"Good. Engineering, status of the jump drive?"

"Jump core reads green, sir. Initiator coil is operational, and our sensors show that the gate has closed completely."

Ladavic nodded, clearly pleased. "Very well. Sensors, read me your contacts."

"Sir, I show nothing in the immediate vicinity. I am, however, picking up transponder signals from in-system. It'll take time to confirm, but they appear to be from the zenith jump point and from the Idaho colony."

Just as we expected, Ladavic thought. "Excellent. Now," she turned her chair to face towards one of the rear consoles, where a young woman sat. "Mr. Havre," the naval tradition was to use the 'Mr.' title for either sex, "charge the HPG and send a message once you are ready."

"Aye aye, sir."

"So, Earl, how long are we to stay like this?" Mikula asked as they walked down a corridor. Although still in microgravity, they had been given magnetic 'slippers' that adhered to the decks of the ship, which allowed them some semblance of normality. Mikula was grateful, as it indeed helped him adjust, though it was disconcerting seeing the occasional passerby walking on what his eyes told him to be the ceiling.

Van Horn shrugged. "I don't know. The crew has to recharge the jump core, since they used the charge from the lithium-fusion battery to get us here." He said, referring to the system that allowed JumpShips and WarShips to store an additional jump charge.

"I... Think I see." Mikula responded as they approached the galley. Van Horn had insisted that they avoid eating before the jump, the better to get used to it without having a stomach full of food churning. After going through that experience, Mikula found it sage advice.

His attention was brought back to the present when van Horn grunted. "Yes, well, in any case, it will take at least four, five, maybe six days to charge the drive again. And that's if the captain doesn't feel like charging the battery, as well. If she does, we could be here for up to twelve days."

Pavlo groaned at that. "I'm not sure if I like the sound of that."

Van Horn smiled a bit. "Well, in all fairness, you just need some time to get used to it. Soon enough, you'll be vaulting across empty spaces like I can."

Pavlo sighed. "I guess you're right..."

Just then, the group entered the mess hall and paused. Van Horn did mainly to look for a nice, vacant table, while Mikula and Pavlo did so because they never got tired of the smell. Mmm, I smell chee-ken. The former thought, having acquired a preference to the fried variety. Though what they call 'beef' is pretty good as well.

A tug on his shirt brought Mikula back around, and Pavlo motioned to where van Horn had moved off, towards the chow line. "Come on, Mikula." He said and walked off himself.

Mikula grunted softly to himself as he followed his brother. I think all that complaining about this 'my-crow-gravity' is just a front, he thought as he approached the line that they got their food at, because his appetite hasn't diminished much. Mikula's thoughts stopped, however, when he got another, stronger smell of chicken. Mmm, not the 'fried' kind, but still smells good. "So, Earl, what is being served today?"

Van Horn looked over the menu before responding. "We're having either 'roast' chicken with corn and green beans, or hot dogs served with flavored tortilla chips." This he spoke in English, to give the two brothers some practice understanding it, as well as to remind them of the courtesy of speaking the common language around others.

Mikula thought over what van Horn said, and then nodded. "'Hot dogs...' Those are the... The meat... Sticks on bread?" Van Horn smiled a bit at the description, but he nodded. "They are good, but I would try the 'rrroast' chee-ken."

"Don't tell me, tell the server." Van Horn said and indicated own the line, where a man in galley garb stood waiting behind the counter with a bored look on his face.

Mikula nodded, and then he grabbed a tray, as he had been shown before, and walked over to the server. The latter had the same shift, and so he was quite used to the aliens. "Hello, Mikula. What will it be today?"

"Hello, Tom." Mikula replied, remembering the server as well. "I would like the 'rrroast che-ken.'"

The server smiled a bit and grabbed the tray from Mikula. "Well, I don't think you've eaten in micro-G before, so you should be careful and listen to the good doctor, ya hear?"

Mikula nodded as the server moved strange bags to set them to the tray. Somehow, they stayed attached, though the lupar couldn't fathom how. I haven't seen those before, or that trick they're using to hold on. "What is those?"

The server smiled again. "They are food in bags. Like I said, you'll have to learn how to eat in microgravity."

Mikula frowned, his expression traveling to his ears. "I do not like sound of that."

The server shrugged and handed the tray back to Mikula gently. "Maybe not, but it's that or starve, so I think you will get used to it."

Meanwhile, a few feet away, van Horn watched the scene with an interest born of his field of study. It's amazing how the crew has started to grow fond of those two. Well, at least the crew we come in contact with regularly. He added the mental caveat after taking a look over the room and noticing that several people still gave the two natives of Bowman's Planet strange looks. Tom is always on duty when we come to eat, and Corporal Castellano's been our de facto guide aboard ship. There were others, too, but not that many. Van Horn grunted to himself as he walked up to the server after Pavlo had gotten his food. Well, I have been kinda protective of them, since I was the only one who could talk to them and I've had them spending lots of their time learning English. He had deliberately set them a tough schedule, mainly to get them ready to face human society, but also because it would keep Mikula's mind off of Alexis.

"Hiya Doc. Tough day today?" Tom asked as he grabbed van Horn's tray out of his hands. Van Horn blinked and realized that he had stood there for a second without saying anything. "Oh. Uh, sorta." He reached up and scratched behind his neck. "I just was distracted there, sorry."

"It's all right, doc." Tom said as he slung some bags onto the tray, and van Horn realized that he hadn't even told the server what he had wanted. Then again, what did I want? His selection had escaped his mind while he was thinking. Ah, well, either choice sounds good to me.

Tom apparently ignored the look of confusion on van Horn's face. "So, how'd they like the jump?" He asked, trying to make casual conversation.

Van Horn shrugged a bit. "Took it well enough as any human."

"Ah." Tom said and handed the tray back. "Well, at least they don't have TDS. It's bad enough for anyone to have that, let alone someone traveling away from home for the first time."

"Indeed." Van Horn replied. "Well, thanks for the help, Tom. All of it."

The server smiled. "Hell, what else have I got to do today?"

It had taken a while for van Horn to explain the reason for and the use of slurred food in microgravity, but Mikula and Pavlo had an inspiring aid; hunger. Thus, it had only taken a few minutes until all three of them were slurping down food that would normally be picked up with silverware.

They had been eating a few moments when a familiar face walked up. "Hiya doc. Mind if we join your table?"

"Dan," van Horn looked up to see the corporal and two other people with him. "Sure, I don't mind." He turned to the two lupar, who sat across from him. "Do either of you mind?"

"No. It is fine." Mikula said, and Pavlo nodded.

"Alright." Castellano moved to sit down near the two lupar, while the two people with him - a raven-haired women and a very large brown-haired man - sat down on van Horn's side. "Introductions: This is Jennifer Marks and Jonathan Osis." Castellano said, indicating the woman and the man, who nodded in turn.

Van Horn nodded to them. "Nice to meet you. I am Dr. Earl van Horn, and these are my friends, Mikula and Pavlo Farkas."

A small chorus of hellos passed between the members of the enlarged group. Then van Horn leaned a bit back - or as much as he could do in microgravity. "Osis, eh? Would I be mistaken that you're of Elemental descent?"

The big man nodded. "Yeah. Both my parents were washed out of their different sibkos and they met in the laborer caste." He paused to slurp some chicken form a bag. "They fell for each other, but didn't like the idea of staying laborers all their lives, so they got to the Underground and escaped."

"Well, there's a story you don't hear every day." Van Horn said politely.

Osis shrugged. "I make it sound more dramatic when I compress it like that. So anyway," he went on, clearly wanting to change the subject. "Me an' Jen here wanted to see the guy who decided to take on the Wobbies with stone knives and bearskins."

Van Horn blushed. "I wouldn't say we were that ill-equipped. I did have my laser rifle and some nice IEDs and Molotovs."

"A-School course 223: Improvised Munitions." Marks said with a smile that easily spread to her green eyes. "I guess it's true when they say that you can take the trooper out of the M.I., but you can't take the M.I. out of the trooper." The humans all shared a laugh at that, though the lupar just sat quietly and tried to keep up.

"Well, A-School helped, but so did these two." Van Horn said, waving to the two brothers. Mikula felt a bit uncomfortable, having four sets of eyes on him and Pavlo. And one of them belongs to a man three times as large as I am! "They knew how to fight when the going got tough." Van Horn finished.

"Well, they certainly got the look." Osis said. "'Specially that one on the corner. What'd you say his name was?"

Van Horn frowned and his face reddened a bit. "They know English, so why don't you ask him yourself?"

"Oh, uh, sorry." Osis blinked a few times, then turned to face the lupar. "I am sorry. I didn't realize you know English."

"It is okay." Mikula said, since he was the one Osis had referred to. "We know not too good your speech, so we do not talk often."

"Oh, well. Anyway, I didn't catch your name. Who are you again?" Osis asked, clearly embarrassed over his gaffe.

Mikula frowned. "Catch? I threw nothing."

Van Horn cleared his throat at that, gaining Mikula's attention. "It's a phrase, Mikula. It means that Jonathan here doesn't remember your name because he was a bit distracted."

"Oh." Mikula said. "Well, I am Mikula Farkas. This is my brother Pavlo." He moved his hand to indicate whom else he spoke of. Though I probably shouldn't have bothered. It's not like there's any other lupar on this ship.

Osis nodded. "Pleased to meet you... Again." He said, still uncomfortable with the situation, which only grew more uncomfortable for all when the silence stretched out.

Marks coughed to relieve the tension. "So, Mikula, how are you and your brother doing? I understand that your world doesn't have any advanced technology."

Mikula shrugged. "It is... Difficult, sometime. Many things to learn." He said, and then sighed. "So many things different."

"I'll bet." Marks said politely. "What is the biggest difference?"

Mikula reached up and scratched his head in a mannerism he was beginning to pick up from van Horn. "Truth is, women." He said, and he took on an embarrassed look. "You act so differently from home women. More... More...." His voice trailed off as he searched for a word. Then Mikula turned to van Horn and spoke in Lupari. "Grra ni kla korr err arrano?"

Van Horn blinked for a second to dredge up the word. "Assertive."

"Yes. Women more ah-sertive here." Mikula said, turning back to Marks, who raised an eyebrow. "Really? How interesting." She said, trying not to let any emotion into her voice.

"Yes... Interesting..." Mikula said, and his attention drifted off. Van Horn could tell where it was going, and so he decided to try and change the subject. "Well, one thing I know that is different would be a jump. These two just had their first."

"Ah. Did you fid it as strange as everyone else does?" Castellano asked the two on his right.

"It was... Very strange." Pavlo responded this time, wanting to get into the conversation. "It was like being inside out... Amongst other things."

The humans chuckled at that. "That's one of the better descriptions I've heard." Osis said. "Jumps certainly ain't the most natural thing."

"Well, neither are you, tubby." Marks said and poked the big man in the ribs. "Mr. gene-boosted super soldier."

Osis rubbed his side, pretending that Marks hurt him worse than she did. "Why, Jen, you wound me! Quite literally, since those nails of yours should be a registered weapon."

"Why you little toad," she said, using the preferred method of insulting an elemental. "I'll have you know I keep them regulation, and not a millimeter longer!"

Castellano looked at van Horn and rolled his eyes. "They're always like this. It's a damn good thing they're not in the same squad, or otherwise they'd never get anything done."

Van Horn laughed at that. God, this feels good, talking to fellow troopers, even if I am older than them. He thought. Almost feels like home.

They only had to wait seven days. Captain Ladavic, to her credit, cared enough about the terribly injured women in her ship's sickbay that she didn't want to wait for a double-charge. I can see how she's Blood Star material, van Horn thought as they again approached the time for another Jump. I wonder what she did, though? The Blood Star was a rare award, and it was usually given posthumously. The fact she's still alive shows that she's damn talented. Hell, she probably could've had almost any command in the Fleet, yet she's running a glorified troop transport.

His thoughts went on hiatus as the five tones of the final jump alert rang through the ship. Only two seconds later, the superconducting ring at the rear end of the jump drive released it's startup charge, causing a cascade reaction with the stored energy in the jump core. In a process that took only picoseconds, the energy wave expanded from the core and surrounded the ship. In a time that seemed forever yet only lasted seconds, van Horn felt his mind forced to expand so fast that it would rupture at any second. Then the energy used to activate the drive was spent, and the hyperspace gate snapped closed as the Rodger Young arrived at her destination.

Van Horn shook his head a couple of times, despite the nausea. "Even if I live to be a hundred, I'll never get used to that."

"I am forced to agree with you." Mikula said from his nearby seat in the observation lounge. He spoke in English, as he and Pavlo had improved much with not only van Horn's help, but also that of the Mobile Infantry platoon that the Young boasted as part of her 240-person crew. Van Horn was still amazed at how the platoon, known as 'Vickers' Vanquishers,' took a shine to the two wolf-like lupar. It helped knowing their story, and how they were willing to fight a much superior force to defend their friends and family. It seemed like the sort of sappy kind of feeling of camaraderie that most of Humanity derided as nonexistent - and with the Secession Wars, who would blame them? - But van Horn knew that, in the Republic at least, values and morals still meant something. And so the entire platoon got a kick out of the two Farkas brothers.

It had also helped to know that there was a severely wounded friend of theirs sitting in sickbay, kept in a medical coma. Since she needed replacement organs, Alexis' wounds weren't allowed to fully heal which, although making it much easier to prevent rejection, would also keep her in pain. When this was explained to him, Mikula had moped for days. Still, he got over it, van Horn thought as he unbuckled his restraining belts. Of course, it helped that he could visit her occasionally. Those visits had helped Mikula, even when he saw the strangeness of Alexis hooked up to machines that even many humans would find strange and unusual. But he had adapted, as had his brother.

"So, what is this place we're going to again?" Pavlo asked, bringing van Horn's attention back to the present.

"It's called the New Honshu system, after the only inhabitable planet of the same name." Van Horn replied as he pseudo-walked out of the room, the two lupar following him. "It was settled over a hundred fifty years ago by refugees fleeing the Draconis Combine. They forsaked most modern technology to live in an ecological peace with the planet." Van Horn paused to gain breath, as well as to remember his history. "Then, about eighty years ago, contact with the Clans gave us their HarJel technology, and New Honshu was discovered to be the source of the HarJel precursor chemical known as Carbonite Black. So corporations moved in under the aegis of the federal government and established a new settlement right next to the plants that would extract and refine the chemical into HarJel.

"Since the planet already had a Japanese flavor to it from its then-current residents, the city they founded was called 'Neo Tokyo," after a fictional city of the same name from some old, twentieth century story. Since then, the city has grown to mimic its fictional counterpart, and it has become one of the largest cities on record."

Mikula and Pavlo blinked as they tried to absorb the information that van Horn spilled to them. I probably shoulda just said, 'it's a biiiig city.' "The point is, is that Neo Tokyo is a massive, technological wonder of a city, since to minimize friction with the original settlers, they built it as geographically compact as possible."

He paused as the trio pressed against a wall to let a pair of naval crewmen pass, since they were carrying a large load between them. "Anyway, Neo Tokyo is also known as being the last, large city before the Republic ends and you enter the Great Expanse of unsettled, unexplored worlds."

Mikula shook his head as they walked on. "That is a lot of information to take in."

Van Horn sighed. "Yes, yes it is. Well, the short, short version is that the city is a combination of every other kind of city humanity could have ever come up with. So it has just about every kind of vice, entertainment, and generally pleasurable activity you could ever imagine."

"Yeah, it makes the Canopian Pleasure Circuses look like an Amish barn-raising." The voice came from behind them, causing all three to jump at the booming sound, their feet breaking the weak magnetic grip of their 'slippers' and causing them to float. "John, I thought I asked you to stop sneaking up on us?" Van Horn asked in mock anger as he turned to face the bulging man.

Osis grinned widely at that. "But it's so fun to be this big and still sneak up on people."

"Oh really?" Another voice said behind Osis, and he jumped, coming off of the floor and floating up to the ceiling. "Seems to be just as amusing when you aren't the size of a tabiranth." The figure behind Osis said.

"Now I wish you really would stop doing that to me, Franklin." Osis grumbled as he arrested his movement and settled himself back to the 'floor.'

The lithe fighter pilot smiled at that. "What was it you just said? 'But it's so much fun!'" This got chuckles from van Horn and the lupar, and even Osis had to crack a smile. "Damn aerojocks, you just love to turn things around so much," He lowered his voice almost conspiratorially and turned to face the others. "I think it's because they spend so much time in micro-G that they can't remember which way is up."

Another series of chuckles, this time at Franklin's expense. "Har har, big boy. Let's see you get out and fight the Wobbie aerospace fighters hand to hand next time, if you're so tough."

"Bah." Osis waved his hand dismissively. "I'd love to stay here all day, but I've got some suits to help gunny take care of."

"Oh, lose last night's poker game?" The blonde-haired pilot couldn't help but barb. Osis didn't even respond, but just grumbled and walked off. "I'll see y'all later."

"See ya then." Franklin waved, and then he turned to face the other three. "Well, so these are the little guys that the M.I. blokes have been peachy with."

Mikula brought himself a bit more erect. "Who are you calling little?"

Franklin raised an eyebrow. "Ah, so I've heard right, and you do know English. Imagine that, those grunts actually could teach somebody something."

Van Horn was starting to get the idea of why Osis didn't stick around. "Well, it generally helps that they are good learners." He said, deciding to try and keep things civil.

"Ah, yes. That does help, now doesn't it?" Franklin said with a nod. "Well, I've got things of my own to attend to. I'll be seeing you all." He nodded and walked off before getting a response.

Pavlo frowned and looked at van Horn. "Earl, I am confused. Was he being rude?"

Van Horn sighed. "To a degree, yes, he was." he shrugged and turned to head along the corridor to the mess hall again. "But you've got to remember, there's a bit of a rivalry between the M.I. and the Navy, so it might just be part of that."

"I suppose, though we've really never had much of a rivalry in our army." Mikula said decisively.

Van Horn grinned, but didn't look back to let Mikula see him. "Well, if your people had developed seafaring earlier, you'd see a rivalry. There's always one." He paused as they entered the mess hall, which was fortunate, as the ship's intercom came on. "All hands stand by for thrust."

"You heard the lady! Feet on the floor!" The head cook was in today, and his booming voice echoed across the room. Most everyone was already aligned, but a constant naval tradition in all things was thoroughness.

Which isn't a bad thing when you're riding in a steel bubble of air surrounded by vacuum. Van Horn thought as his stomach settled. At least we had some grav deck time to keep from losing bone and muscle mass. He thought as he walked over to a table to wait for the cooks to switch from microgravity cooking to 'real food.' Mikula and Pavlo had been impressed with the grav deck when it was explained that it simply simulated gravity by rotating. They were even more impressed by the variety of entertainment available in the grav deck's recreation rooms.

Now, however, the grav deck was secured from its rotation. Although it could still be accessed, and it was set up so that people could walk in and use its facilities even while the ship was under thrust, it wasn't optimized for it, and so its appeal diminished.

All this left van Horn's mind, however, as one of their recent friends came over. "Hello guys, care for some company."

Van Horn smiled. "For you, Miss Marks, anytime."

Marks blushed as she sat down. "Now really, I thought we were past all that last name crap?"

"Ah, yes, but then I couldn't make you blush, now could I?" Van Horn teased, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

Pavlo couldn't help but chuckle. "You two are always so strange."

"Well, don't blame me, because I ain't the one trying to make girls blush." Marks said and leaned back a bit.

"Well, I'm just glad to see a friendly face." Van Horn said with a small sigh. Marks noticed this and her face twisted in puzzlement. "What happened? Cross an officer and get an earful?" She asked.

Van Horn shook his head. "Nothing like that, I don't think. Just on the way here, John snuck up behind us like he's been doing," he paused as Marks let out a good-natured groan. "But then some pilot named Franklin startled him, and he sped off- what?" He interrupted himself as Marks rolled her eyes at the pilot's name.

"Pavel Franklin. I know him." She said with a sigh.

"Oh? Is he trouble?" Van Horn asked, knowing that in some places, the rivalry between the M.I. and the Navy got worse than friendly.

Marks shook her head. "Not necessarily. Oh, he's got the aerodale superiority complex worse than most of them, so he does look a bit down on us. But he just likes to do it because he likes being an ass." She shrugged. "He's professional, however, and he doesn't let it get in the way of anything important. Hell, he's not even that bad off-duty. Just a born asshole, like I said."

Van Horn nodded. "Ah, I see then. Well, is there anyone else on board this ship who would be worse?"

Marks thought for a second, and then shook her head. "Nah. The Young has one helluva good crew, from Captain Ladavic on down. Shakedown crew, yanno, got pride in their ability to get work done with a minimum of crap."

Van Horn grinned. "Good. Speaking of-" He stopped as he was interrupted by the ship's cook announcing that chow was back on. Although not heavily crowded, there were enough crewmen getting up that van Horn didn't want to press into them.

Pavlo, however, looked plaintively at the food line, and then he turned back to van Horn. "I'm going to get some food, then."

Van Horn smiled a bit. "So go. We'll still be here." Pavlo grinned and nodded in reply. "Alright. I will return shortly." He got up and walked over to get in line.

Mikula sighed. "He's probably going to get lost, or something." He said with the normal, big brother's good-natured derision of his younger siblings. "I'll go with him, excuse me." He got up and walked to where Pavlo was waiting near the end of the line.

Marks chuckled. "Knowing those two, I don't think Mikula decided to go just because he's worried about his brother too much."

Van Horn shared in her chuckle. "Indeed. All three of them have large appetites."

Marks looked confused. "Three? You mean the lady in sickbay?"

Van Horn blinked, and then shook his head. "No, sorry. They have another brother back on Bowman's Planet." He sighed. "They also had a fourth, younger one... But he was killed by the Wobbies."

Marks was taken aback by that. "They never mentioned that."

To this, van Horn shook his head again. "They don't like to talk about it. He was the youngest of their family, so his loss, I take it, was especially hard." He looked up and at the two as they talked with Tom again, and even some of the navy crew began to speak to them. "You can see why they'd want to take the fight back to the Wobbies."

"They're not the only ones." Marks replied, a threat in her voice. "Listen, I've read your preliminary report, as have all the Vanquishers. If you manage to get the brass to go along, I hope you'll ask us to come with."

Van Horn felt a nice, warm feeling inside. God, it's nice to know that there's still decency left in the Galaxy. "Thank, Jen. But, I don't understand, how'd you get my report?" His face twisted in confusion. "I mean, don't get me wrong, but M.I. don't usually get that kind of info at this level."

Marks grinned. "Heh. Well, Captain Ladavic is a good lady. She knows that, if the higher-ups do decide to go back, they'll be sending the Young and the Vanquishers alongside any counter-invasion force. So after she sent a copy to Port Kure in the HPG transmission, she 'accidentally' left a copy where Lieutenant Vickers could read it."

Van Horn grinned. "She sounds like a damn good captain. Which reminds me of my question that I was going to ask you before the cook interrupted." He gestured with his head over towards the chow line, prompting Marks to chuckle a bit. "About the captain?" She asked, getting a nod from van Horn in return. "All right, shoot."

"Well, when I was in her ready room giving that report, I saw some of her commendations." Van Horn said, trying to come at the subject lightly.

Marks, however, understood what he was asking. "Oh, so you want to know what she did to get the Blood Star?"

Van Horn winced. "You like to cut to the chase, don't you?"

She grinned in reply. "Oh, yes, I do."

He rolled his eyes, but winked to show her he was kidding, which got him a light kick in the shins. "Mr. Smart Ass. You want me to tell you about our good captain or not?"

Van horn held up his hands. "Alright, alright, I give. Now, what'd she do?"

Marks leaned back again on her bench chair - difficult to do, but her lithe frame accommodated it. "Well, I wasn't there myself, but she commanded a Gray Fox-class infantry transport during Operation Loki," she said, mentioning the Republic operation that coincided with the liberation of Terra. Marks then leaned in, almost conspiratorially. "Now, the scuttlebutt is that during the invasion of New Home, her part of the op went south and the platoon she had just dropped had been cut off. Apparently, it was a communications breakdown, since their drop zone was the original one that was planned, but command changed it when it turned out the Wobbies had almost an entire division there." She paused to gather her thoughts and memories of the tale. "Apparently, what got her the Star was that she took her ship in to make retrieval; Right into the teeth of the Wobbies.

"Now the part where it gets interesting is that she flew the craft herself, and she flew it like a giant-ass fightercraft, rather than like the seventeen hundred ton dropship that it was. She actually strafed a line of Wobbies and practically carved herself a landing zone out of their front lines. After that, the M.I. platoon got their asses back in the ship real fucking quick, and she got out of their faster then the Wobbies could react, due to the fact that she used the ship's transit drive to lift off, instead of its main maneuver engines."

"Holy shit." Van Horn breathed. "That's fucking nuts."

"Yeah. So she's a good skipper, and I'll stick my neck out for her any time." Marks finished and sat more upright.

"Who's a good what?" Mikula asked from behind Marks, who started a bit and turned around. "Jesus! First Johnny boy likes to pop up behind me, and now you."

Mikula blinked. "I am sorry, I didn't mean-"

Marks' sigh cut him off. "No, that's all right, Mikula, you did nothing wrong. I just was surprised, that's all." She stretched her arms a bit. "So, what do you got there?" She asked of the tray Mikula carried, even though she could clearly see what was on it.

"I believe Tom said it was something called 'ham,' served with green beans and mashed potatoes." Mikula said as he sat down. Only seconds behind him, Pavlo walked up and settled in as well.

"Sounds good. I think I'll need to get some. If you'll excuse me?" Marks asked, and got up with the three men nodding. As she walked off, Mikula turned back to van Horn. "So, Earl, might I ask what you were talking about that made her... What is that word you like to use?"

"'Spooked,' is the word." Van Horn replied with a sly grin. "And I was having her tell me about Captain Ladavic, and why she has an important award."

"Oh?" Mikula was interested now. Being here on this ship, I can see why van Horn says that women can take care of themselves. I wonder... "So, what did she do to get this special award?"

Van Horn grunted and retold the story he had just heard, although he had to pause and explain a few concepts that the two lupar still hadn't been introduced to, such as drop zones and transit drives. "...So that's why she has an award that's only been given out twelve times in my country's history." He finished as Marks came back with a tray.

"You stealin' my story, boy?" She asked good-naturedly as she sat down. Van Horn just grunted back. "Your story? I thought it was the captain's."

"Oh, she won't mind it missin.' Not like she tells it herself, anyway." Marks said as she picked up the flatware and began to pick at her meal.

"Well, with people like you telling it, why should she bother?" Van Horn asked with a grin as he stood up. "Now, if y'all will excuse me, I'm going to get some food before they run out."

"Good luck."

It took another twelve days of travel time to reach New Honshu, its moon and the Fleet Base known as Port Kure, since the system's star was a bright F8V type star, which pushed the jump points further out than most G-type stars that habitable planets orbited. New Honshu, however, was the fifth planet out, and so it enjoyed a more moderate climate than planets that typically orbited F-type stars.

Van Horn sat in the observation lounge again, the blister having been shut off as the Rodger Young approached Port Kure for docking. I should be belted in, but I want to get a good look at this kind of sight. He thought as he stared out the ferroglass windows at the majestic sight of a Fleet Base. "Magnificent." He breathed.

"Can we look?" Mikula asked from behind van Horn, who glanced at the two lupar behind him. "Sure thing. If you have any questions, feel free to ask." The two lupar nodded and then went to either window at the side of van Horn's.

"Look at that," van Horn said quietly and pointed. "You see that structure over there?"

Mikula narrowed his eyes a bit. "You mean the one that looks like a farmer's lattice?"

Van Horn nodded. "That's the one. It's a repair yard, and right now, if you look inside, it has a corvette in for maintenance."

Both brothers leaned to look out the window. "Didn't you say that we were in a korr- Corvette?" Pavlo asked, having to correct himself.

"Well, a corvette is a type of ship, but there are different designs within that type. The one we're in is a brand-new type." Van Horn paused as he tried to remember the class of the ship he had pointed out. "That one... Yes, that's a Vigilant II-class corvette. Very old ships, nearly seven hundred years old."

Both lupar turned in surprise at that. "Seven hundred years?" Mikula asked incredulously. Van Horn nodded and the lupar turned to look back out the window. "That's mind-boggling. I don't think many cities are that old back home."

Van Horn gave Mikula a look. "Oh, really? How old would you say Tanzano is?"

The question caught Mikula off-guard, and he paused to gather his thoughts. "Well, from the stories I've heard, it's at least five hundred years old, maybe six. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, just wondering." Van Horn replied with a smile. "Despite all that's happened, your people and your culture and history still interest me." The smile then faded. "I hope that soon, I may take up my studies again."

Mikula nodded slowly. "Allow me to join you in that wish."

"I as well." Pavlo chimed in. "After all... I do want to get back to our world sometime..."

Van Horn winced. And here I am, still unsure if we're even going to go back! He looked out the window and raged to himself as the Young maneuvered to dock with the main station. Those goddamned Snow Ravens! Goddamned Clanners! Goddamned Kerensky and his whole fucking Exodus! All of them lack the moral fiber of a Goat.

Just as soon as he thought it, though, he made himself retract the last part. Well, can't blame Aleksander Kerensky... Not his fault the House Lords were dicks, or that his own troops turned on themselves, or that his son was mentally unbalanced. He sighed, just as the intercom came on throughout the ship. "All hands, stand by for docking procedure. Code amber in effect, secure for sudden maneuvers."

"That means us," van Horn said, somewhat unnecessarily, since the two lupar had started to get a hang of shipboard life, eve if some concepts were still foreign to them. Quietly, all three went back to the seats along the wall and buckled themselves in. Damn the Clans, anyway. I don't care if they did invent almost all he military technology we use today, they're still a pack of godless barbarians!

A few sudden shifts occurred then, as maneuvering jets fired to bring the Rodger Young into the waiting docking arms at just the right attitude and velocity. It took a few minutes, minutes in which the group fell silent as the two lupar sensed that van Horn wanted to mull over his thoughts.

Another series of shifts occurred, and then a large thump more felt than heard rang throughout the hull of the corvette. "All hands, docking complete. Initiate port protocols." The intercom blared again.

"Well gentlemen, let's go see the captain." Van Horn said as he unbuckled his seat belt and got up. The two lupar followed him quietly as he walked out of the room and headed for the elevator to the bridge. A short ride and walk later and they were waiting just outside the door to the main bridge.

Normally, such actions would be presumptuous, but van Horn had had a message relayed to him by a yeoman the day before, stating that the captain wanted him and his friends to come aboard the station with her so that they could see the station's commander. So van Horn waited, wondering what the captain would have to say to him now.

The door opened then, disrupting his thoughts. He then stood more erect when Captain Ladavic strode out alone. "Follow me." She said civilly, but with a tone that commanded obedience. Part of van Horn wanted to feel chafed, but his sense of duty won out and he trailed behind Ladavic, Mikula and Pavlo following behind him.

They went n in silence until they got to the elevator. While waiting for it, van Horn finally realized that Ladavic was not average in height. She's only a bit larger than Mikula! I guess it's true what they say about 'larger than life.'

When the elevator arrived, all four of them got on, again in silence. It was only after they began to move upwards; towards the docking ports that Ladavic spoke next. "Dr. van Horn, it has come to my attention that your friends there have gained a kind of fandom among my crew." Her tone was unreadable, neutral, and van Horn couldn't decide what she felt.

He decided to be simple. "Well, captain, I don't think 'fandom' is quite the word I'd use, but yes, your crew seems to have warmed up to them."

"Yes. And as an extension, to the young lady that is even now being transferred to the station's facilities, prior to being shipped to the K.O.M. Hospital on the planet." Again, she used the neutral tone.

"Well, in all fairness, captain, if Alexis, as that 'young lady' is named, was as alert as these two, then I guarantee you that extension would have been even greater. She is a smart, friendly person."

"So your second report said." She paused then, and breathed deep. "So, doctor, you were willing to risk your life for these people?"

Van Horn's face turned red. "I not only would, I have and will again, if I get the chance."

Ladavic nodded as the lift stopped and they got out into a narrow hallway. "What you do today may determine whether you get that chance. But before then, I ask you this." She stopped, prompting the others to do so. Looking up, she stared into van Horn's eyes before going on. "Tell me, face to face by your God and our laws that helping these people is right. That it's worth the deaths of good men and women."

Van Horn returned her stare, and he nodded after she had finished. "Captain Ladavic, I not only swear to that, I swear by the principles for which this Republic stands. Freedom from Tyranny, Freedom from Fear, and the Freedom for Democracy. Men have died for these principles in the past, and I stand ready to die for them now. Even for people that are not my own race, nationality, or even species." He paused for effect. "By all that I consider good with the universe, I consider it right."

The silence stretched, and Mikula and Pavlo each wrestled with what was being said. I know that Earl has said that his people value helping others... But so much that you'd die for it? Even as he thought this, Mikula realized that it was true. Weeks we've spent, leaving our world and traveling here, and all that time, I've forgotten the terror of bouncing around in that vehicle as van Horn risked his life to distract the Wobbies from Hercor, and again, he stood with us and freed even the kurrnaki from the invaders' grip. How could I forget? He felt a bit ashamed that he couldn't even see, after all this time, just how deep van Horn's convictions ran.

Then he got proof that it was not just van Horn who had deep convictions. Ladavic nodded, finally, after a long moment. "All right, van Horn. One thing I pride myself on is being able to tell the bullshitters from the ones who actually care. I can see from your reports, and especially your eyes, that you do care." She sighed. "I'll go to bat for you on this with the Admiral."

Van Horn blinked. "Th-Thank you captain." He said, flabbergasted. "I don't know what to say."

"If what you told me is true, then you don't need to say anything." Ladavic said as she turned and began to walk again, prompting the others to follow. "Because you're not the only one who feels that we have a duty to perform for our ideals."

It was another hour before they got to see the Admiral who commanded Port Kure, and who was the de facto military commander of the region. In that time, Ladavic had Dr. Jennings himself oversee the transfer of Alexis' still-unconscious form from the Rodger Young to a specially designed medical shuttle. Mikula had elected to go with her, since van Horn didn't know when he could get down to the planet. Pavlo stayed behind, simply feeling that he had to stand by his friend as he pleaded the case for his planet.

Now that he stood in the brightly lit, white-painted outer office of one Rear Admiral George Fitzpatrick, however, he felt some regret at not having accompanied his brother. Short ride, van Horn said, only an hour or two. But no, I had to come here. Still, when he thought more about it, he decided that he was where he should be. Dunno why I think that, but I do.

Pavlo spared a look at van Horn, who also seemed nervous as he fidgeted next to where Pavlo stood. Beyond him, however, Captain Ladavic stood still with an icy calm demeanor that Pavlo found himself envying.

Just then, the doors to the inner office opened, and a female yeoman that had been attending the desk in the outer office walked out. "Admiral Fitzpatrick will see you now." She said and held the doors open.

Ladavic was the first to enter, of course, followed by van Horn. Then it was Pavlo's turn, and despite the sudden increase in his nervousness, he managed to walk in without sticking his tail between his legs. I just thank the Gods that this office is on this place's 'grav deck,' otherwise I might have vomited by now.

He walked to where van Horn had stopped to the right and a couple of paces behind Ladavic, who was herself a few paces from the front of a large, oaken desk. Pavlo stopped by van Horn, to his right, but equal with him. Just as instructed.

The man behind the desk finally looked up from the computer terminal on which he had been typing when the three had been let into his office. Upon seeing Ladavic, he smiled and stood up. "Mary, how good to see you." He said and reached across the desk, offering his right hand. "How're the kids?"

For the first time that Pavlo had ever seen, Ladavic smiled. "You mean grandkids, George. And they're fine, all right as rain and smart as a whip." She said as she shook his hand.

"Glad to hear it." Fitzpatrick said as he unclasped his hand. He then sat down and indicated a chair for Ladavic. "Have a seat."

At that, her smile disappeared and she stood almost at attention. "Sorry, George, but this is a business call."

The friendly look on the admiral's face disappeared too, and he looked over van Horn and Pavlo. "Ah, yes, the Bowman's Planet affair." He sighed. "You know how much the bureaucrats are gonna ride my ass for this? You brought back a passel of aliens to my station, and now a couple of them are heading to KOM in Neo Tokyo." He shook his head. "If it wasn't for the Snow Ravens getting all the attention, half of the General Staff would be here chewing my - and your- ass out."

Ladavic shook her head. "George, this isn't about bureaucracy."

"Admiral." Fitzpatrick said sternly. "You want this to be business, then you call me admiral, captain."

Ladavic gave him a bit of a sour look, but she nodded. "Very well, admiral. Let me lay this straight, then. We have a responsibility to send enough forces to Bowman's Planet to kill every one of those Blakests dead."

Fitzpatrick leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. "Oh? And how do you figure that?"

Ladavic raised her right hand and balled it into a fist. "For one, it's our responsibility to ensure the defense of this nation." She stuck out her index finger. "Those Blakests represent a threat to our security, sitting as they are within two jumps of one of our most important industrial centers.

"Two," she stuck out the next finger, "we have a responsibility to finish what we started. Even if those bastards never attack us directly, they can still move out and threaten the rest of the Inner Sphere. Our responsibility here it to increase our standing with other nations by taking care of a threat and not leaving loose ends."

Ladavic then held out her thumb. "And finally, we have a moral responsibility. Those people on that planet are totally helpless against those bastards, and we have, technically, extended protectorate status over Bowman's Planet. We can't abandon it now because it's 'inconvenient.'"

Silence reigned as Ladavic finished and put her hand back down. "You always liked to go for the throat, didn't you, Mary?" Fitzpatrick asked quietly. "But it's not so simple as you say.

"First, let me address the security issue." He picked up a noteputer and laid it out before Ladavic. "There is a deployment order sending in the Battleaxe, Broadsword, and the Ajax, for starters." He picked up another noteputer and placed it down beside the first one. "This is another order, sending in the transport JumpShips Daedelus and Phonecia, each carrying a mixed assortment of assault and fighter-carrier DropShips. That's three WarShips and six attack DropShips, plus fighters. I guarantee, those Blakests aren't going anywhere, because unlike them, we'll blast an enemy JumpShip right outta the sky." Fitzpatrick leaned back and took a breath before going on. "Now, with the Wobbies bottled up, they can't move out, so that takes care of security and standing with our 'peers.'"

Ladavic stared back at Fitzpatrick. "What about morals? Or did they take that away from you when you got that shiny star of yours?

Fitzpatrick wined visibly. "Mary, I can't send a military mission out on moral support alone."

"And why the Hell not?" Ladavic asked. "It was morals that sent me and the Young out to get Dr. van Horn, here." She paused to point to him, and van Horn felt his head warm as the admiral gave him an icy once-over. Fortunately, it ended as Ladavic continued. "And don't tell me it was politics, either, because you and I both know that Bowman's Planet is - or, rather, was, one of the best-kept secrets in the Republic." She took a breath. "You could've let him sit there and rot, but you sent me. Now, if that isn't morals, then what is?"

Fitzpatrick shook his head. "Damnit, Mary, that's one thing. Van Horn's a human, and former M.I. If we left him there it would've been terrible for morale."

"And leaving a planet to be ruled by oppressive Blakests won't do the same?" Ladavic asked. "You can't keep this secret, George. My crew knows all about Bowman's Planet. They know all about him," she turned and pointed to Pavlo, who finally gave in and let his tail find shelter between his legs, "and they know about his brother, and their friend who's going to Otomo Memorial. You can't keep them bottled up without losing a damn fine crew, you can't keep us out patrolling the boondocks without losing morale, and you can't shut them up.

"So, admiral, if you're worried about morale, then it's too late." Ladavic crossed her arms. "My crew's become fond of these folk, and their morale is linked to their story. And once word gets out, then other crew will follow the same way. They will ask, 'how can we fight for our nation when it won't even stand up for it's own values?' And you know what? They'd be right to question it."

Fitzpatrick stood and slammed his hands down on his desk. "God damnit Mary! Don't you pull this shit on me. I remember how you blitzed Admiral Whitefeather into letting you do that fancy smash and grab that got you the Blood Star, but I will not have it happen to me!" He took a second and control his breathing and temper more. "The military does not make moral decisions, captain. We cannot be trusted to decide morals, because who will stop us if we're wrong?" Fitzpatrick then stood up from his leaning position over his desk. "That's why we have elected leaders, captain. And there is your moral responsibility. We have a duty to obey the chain of command, and to not overstep our role as protectors of the people. Not their leaders."

An uncomfortable silence stretched for several moments. "So, admiral, what does the Chain of Command have to say about this?" Ladavic asked neutrally.

Fitzpatrick sighed. "They haven't gotten back to me. And don't give me that look! I sent an HPG transmission out as soon as you arrived in-system, and those... 'Esteemed Gentlemen' have yet to get back to my request that military forces be released for Operation Last Call."

Ladavic blinked so hard that van Horn could have sworn he heard her eyelids clicked. "You mean that you've wanted to do this op all along?" She paused as Fitzpatrick nodded his head. "Well, why the fuck didn't you say so, before I go and make a damn fool outta myself!"

At that, the admiral smiled. "Because you're cute when you're pissed off." The smile died then, though a ghost of it remained on Fitzpatrick's lips. "And because, captain, sometimes you get some damn fool idea in your head, that's based too much on adrenal thinking and not enough planning. I wanted to make sure that you were absolutely sure that this was something you'd be able to carry out, no matter the cost."

Ladavic nodded. "Aye, sir. It is."

"As I've noticed." Fitzpatrick said and sat down in his chair. "In any case, Captain Ladavic, since your ship is standing down for post-sortie maintenance, I would recommend that your crew get full R&R. Although, it might be wise of you and Lieutenant Vickers to travel to New Honshu and discuss... 'Proactive defensive plans' with the militia commander."

Ladavic grinned again. But this time, Pavlo didn't see the warmth of someone greeting an old friend. She looks like a kraso ready to pounce on an unsuspecting danier, he thought, thinking of a native predator that resembled a Terran Alligator, only the kraso was a warm-blooded reptile of the dinosauria variety and could keep up with fast prey. Thank the Gods these people are on our side.