CHAPTER 01

The SS Pioneer banked gracefully in space upon the orders of her helmsman, her streamlined hull slicing through the incomprehensible vastness of space as she was propelled by her powerful ion engines.

The massive Earth starship, the first of her kind and the only human vessel capable of reaching warp factor five, operated in a region of the galaxy that had thus far only been charted by robotic probes. These probes had been sent out from Earth many years earlier, by the human science administration known as the Earth Interests.

Svenn Holms was the ranking member of the Earth Interests, or EI, to be aboard the Pioneer. In the preceding years, when the EI had combined their efforts with the private aeronautics company DeSaab to create this magnificent spacecraft, Holms had been involved with almost every aspect of its construction.

Indeed, as a senior director for the EI, he had been the intended commanding officer for this new ship, the individual who would captain the Pioneer during her historic exploration of the galaxy. With her revolutionary warp engines driving her at previously unattainable velocities, the vessel would blaze new ground, and take humanity to countless new worlds.

But history it seemed, had in mind a different role for Svenn Holmes.

Some weeks earlier, a renegade alien spacecraft had infringed on Earth's territorial space, beginning a chain of events that had led to the Solar Defence Force commandeering the Pioneer to launch a rescue mission. The objective of that mission, had been to retrieve Captain Caesar Hans, who had somehow managed to involve himself in the affairs of yet another alien race.

The culmination of these events had deposited a permanent detachment of Solar Defence Force soldiers aboard the Pioneer, led by Captain Hans and with SDF officers holding vital positions throughout the ship's senior staff.

Holms had eventually been assigned the position of operations manager for the vessel, whilst retaining his role of Earth Interests director with the responsibility of overseeing the EI crew and the scientific operations of the Pioneer.

Privately, the director wondered how the Earth Interests vision of a deep-space exploration ship manned by the best EI scientists had gone so badly wrong. The mongrel crew of science and military officers had still to find a mutual respect and the means to work together as a unit, and the disrespect of either side was almost tangible.

Holms could only hope that somewhere along their ambitious course to this distant alien world, a planet that lay almost twelve months from Earth even aboard the Pioneer, this combined crew would discover a way to operate as a group.

The sound of footsteps nearby drew Holms from his reverie and back to the issues of the day, and he realised that he was standing in one of the starship's many corridors just outside a cabin.

Quickly, he pressed his finger against a small control panel on the doorframe, listening to the chimes that followed.

Holms wryly observed that he and the individual who occupied these quarters, were the very personification of the opposing sides of the Pioneer's crew. Holms held the position of senior Earth Interests scientist, while Caesar Hans was the ranking Solar Defence Force officer, the man who was in overall command of the ship.

As much as he hated to admit the fact, even to himself, he still felt a modicum of resentment toward Hans. The Pioneer had never been intended to be Hans' ship, and had been constructed under the auspices of the Earth Interests with Holms in mind as commander.

"Come in," a disembodied voice said, carried by the concealed communications grid embedded in the Pioneer's internal structure.

The door panel hissed softly as it retracted into the bulkhead on its tracks, the computer having recognised the occupant's command to allow the visitor access to the cabin.

Holms stepped somewhat cautiously over the threshold, and quickly glanced around the compact stateroom. Despite the Pioneer's status as the largest exploration ship ever built by Earth, space was still at a premium. Even the commanding officer of the spacecraft didn't occupy an especially large living space.

Caesar Hans' quarters were almost identical in their basic structure to the other senior-staff cabins that had been designed when the Pioneer had only existed on the DeSaab drawing boards, but the captain had added small touches of individuality.

A handful of paintings had been hung around the room, most of which depicted what Holms recognised as Solar Defence Force military spacecraft. These items of artwork only served to reinforce the director's opinion that Hans was indeed a soldier to his core.

The captain himself was seated behind a small desk, the surface of which contained a compact computer terminal. The reflections on Hans' face told Holms that the screen was active, and appeared to be displaying scrolling text.

"Mr. Holms," Hans began by way of a greeting, glancing up from his computer and leaning back in his chair, "What can I do for you?"

The Earth Interests director heard the door slid closed behind him, driven by its miniature electro-hydraulic servos, and regarded the captain. Seated in that position, Hans was framed by the vista of sparkling stars afforded by the viewport.

"As you know," Holms said slowly, "Part of the Pioneer's mandate is to chart as much space as possible as we head out from Earth."

Hans frowned slightly as he considered the other man's statement. "Correct," he confirmed, not quite understanding.

"We're currently approaching a solar-system that appears to contain a quantum-singularity," Holms explained, "Or at least that's what my sensor-analysis of this region's gravitational-fields would seem to indicate."

"A black hole?" Hans asked curiously.

Holms nodded in confirmation. "A small one," he elaborated, "Myself and the Earth Interests crew would like the opportunity to study it."

Hans pressed the tips of his fingers together, appearing to give the request some thought. "How long would your analysis take?" he inquired.

"Perhaps two days," Holms responded quickly, though he privately intended to petition Hans for more time once the investigation of the singularity was in progress.

After a few moments of silence, the captain spoke up with an answer. "We've made good progress over the last few weeks," he said, referring to their journey toward their eventual destination, "I think we can afford two days stop to study your black hole, Mr. Holms."

In spite of himself, Holms was taken aback by the agreement. He had expected Hans to be against the idea of stopping the Pioneer to investigate an anomaly such as a quantum singularity.

"I appreciate that," Holms said, noticing that Hans had already directed his attention back down to the scrolling text on his computer screen, "May I ask what you're reading?"

"Your service record," Hans replied without missing a beat.

"I beg your pardon?" the director snapped, shocked that this man was casually reading through the details of his life.

Hans looked up, a wry smile gracing his features. "No need for alarm, director," he assured him, "I've been reviewing the SDF and EI files on all the Pioneer's senior officers. I decided that it would be a good way to familiarise myself with my crew."

"I see," Holms said slowly, still reeling from the revelation that personal information on him was currently streaming across Hans' computer terminal.

After a brief pause, the captain spoke again. "Interesting time you had aboard the Beagle," he said calmly, "I had no idea you were such a warrior."

Holms felt his chest tighten in response.

Hans regarded the EI director closely. "Did I strike a nerve?"

The scientist drew in a long breath. "We all do what's necessary to survive, captain," he answered quietly, his words containing an almost deadly edge.

Hans inclined his head in silent agreement. "Indeed," he answered, obviously satisfied with the response that he had provoked in Holms through his words.

But Hans' victory was short lived.

Before either man could speak again, the deck beneath their feet shuddered heavily, and the rigid superstructure of the mighty starship groaned from metal fatigue as the Pioneer was struck.

Less than a heartbeat after the vessel was hit by whatever force had managed to jolt it so violently, alert sirens began to sound throughout its many decks, calling the hybrid crew of scientists and soldiers to their stations.

"What the hell was that?" Hans demanded, his question obviously rhetorical since his visitor had no information to offer.

As the captain vaulted from his seat and came around the desk, Holms staggered toward the doorway as the Pioneer was hit again.

Again, the spaceframe screamed in protest to the impact, and crewmembers in every section were thrown from their feet and onto the hard deck.

"These don't feel like weapons-strikes!" Holms called over the wail of alarms, deciding that it was somewhat merciful that missiles weren't impacting the outer-skin.

"Bridge!" Hans called, reaching for the intercom panel on the bulkhead beside the doorway.

No response was forthcoming from the ship's command centre at the pinnacle of its globe-shaped primary hull.

"Why don't they answer?" Hans asked, his intense eyes locking onto Holms like laser-sights.

"Maybe that first hit disabled out communications grid," Holms suggested, though he had no evidence with which to back up his theory, "Or they're too busy trying to keep the ship together!"

Hans didn't respond, he simply lunged at the doorway and threw himself out into the corridor. The passageway was illuminated by the pulsing red lights that denoted an alert situation.

Holms followed in the captain's wake, as the two men stumbled down the corridor toward the nearest intersection where they knew a turbolift junction was located.

Suddenly, the ship was struck again by whatever force was looming beyond the hull, smashing the stricken vessel to starboard faster than the inertial dampers could compensate.

Holms was flung violently into a bulkhead, his head impacting with the wall so hard that he momentarily blacked out. Fighting an overwhelming wave of dizziness, and feeling the strong hands of the captain grasp his arm, he willed himself to stay upright.

With the assistance of Caesar Hans, the EI director finally reached the turbolift, the doors of the awaiting car opening on his approach. Once inside the enclosed space of the car, Holms' fingers sought out the handrail and he held it for support.

"Bridge!" Hans commanded impatiently.

On the captain's orders, the turbolift car swiftly accelerated along a vertical path toward the command centre, its own inertial damping system reducing the feeling of motion to almost nothing.

"How long can the ship sustain this sort of battering?" Hans asked, his face a mask of concern as they anxiously awaited the turbolift's arrival at their destination.

"Not for long," Holms answered breathlessly, his head aching from his fall in the corridor outside the captain's quarters, "Whatever's hitting us is pretty fierce."

After what seemed like an eternity to its passengers, the turbolift slid smoothly to a stop upon reaching deck one. The twin door panels parted, allowing the two men to disembark.

Hans flung himself out of the lift and into the command centre, closely followed by his science director. Holms surveyed the bridge, his eyes locking onto the main viewscreen that dominated the forward bulkhead.

Displaying a computerised image of space via the ship's visual sensors, the large viewer showed nothing more than the starry deep.

There was no alien warship discharging its weapons at the Earth vessel.

"Report!" Hans called out to the bridge crew, descending the series of steps to the central arena and dropping into his command chair.

At the tactical console situated on the quarterdeck that encircled the bridge, SDF Commander Antonio Levente glanced over his shoulder to address the captain. All around him, rotating schematics of the Pioneer flashed red, denoting systems damaged by the unceasing impacts.

"It looks to me like intense gravimetric shear!" Levente responded, his hands moving over the complex tactical controls with the rhythm of a pianist, "We're taking a pounding, sir!"

"Can we escape the area of disruption?" Hans asked, grasping the arms of his chair as another, less intense wave of gravity shook the ship.

Isabella Maxini, another Solar Defence Force officer, replied from the helm, where she was engaged in a frantic battle with the flight controls of the imperilled vessel.

"Not without going into warp, captain!" she called back, "And the fluctuating gravity fields are making it impossible to create a stable warp field!"

As the SDF officers exchanged information with their captain, Holms assumed his customary position at the bridge's operations console, and swiftly scrutinised the multiple sensor streams being displayed.

Despite many of the Pioneer's primary sensors having been taken offline by the jarring impacts of the gravimetric shear, Holms was able to see a familiar pattern. He touched several points on his console, reconfiguring the ship's sensors to obtain a more precise scan.

"Ion drives to full thrust!" Hans ordered from his command chair, "And divert all auxiliary power to augment structural integrity!"

"We may have a bigger problem than we thought, captain!" Holms announced finally.

"What is it?" Hans asked, turning in his chair to look at the EI officer.

"This isn't simply gravimetric shear," Holms explained quickly, "There's a storm brewing out there."

"A storm?" Levente interjected, a confused expression visible on his face, "In space?"

Holms nodded. "An ion storm," he confirmed, "We won't escape this with sublight engines, we're going to have to ride it out."

In the command chair, Caesar Hans addressed his crew after a brief pause. "Baton down the hatches!" he instructed everyone, acting on the advice of his EI operations manager, "We're going to sit tight until the storm passes us by!"

"I recommend shutting down all nonessential systems," Holms continued, "There's a good chance that they could overload if we keep them online during the storm."

"You heard the man!" Hans called, "Take all propulsion offline until further notice! Shutdown everything except life-support, gravity and lighting!"

"Should I use the reaction-control thrusters to try and hold our position?" Isabella Maxini asked, "Like dropping the anchor on a sailing ship?"

Hans craned his neck to look at Holms, silently requesting a recommendation.

Holms was pleased to note that the captain wasn't so proud that he wouldn't ask for Earth Interest assistance when necessary.

"Set them to compensate automatically for drift," Holms told Maxini, "The RCS system should be able to hold position without too much difficulty."

Maxini tapped the appropriate sequence into her console. "Setting for automatic," she confirmed quietly.

Suddenly, something changed about the Pioneer. Holms took a moment to realize that the almost subliminal pulsing of the powerful fusion reactor that drove the starship was gone.

Several decks beneath the bridge, the chief engineer had brought the Earth vessel's power plant offline.

As the man slated for command of the Pioneer before the Solar Defence Force intruded upon the project, Holms was well enough acquainted with the ship's design to know that a total shutdown of the fusion core would leave the spacecraft effectively powerless for hours. The core was a hideously complex machine that couldn't simply be reactivated at the touch of a control, and would require a considerable length of time to be brought back online with a cold restart.

"The fusion core is offline," Levente announced from tactical, monitoring the shutdown of the ship's various systems via his internal sensors, "So are all the offensive and defensive systems."

"Primary and secondary sensors are also going offline," Holms added, feeling himself grow tense as the monitors around him abruptly became dark. With the shutdown of the ship's vast array of scanners, he felt the curious sensation of being blind and deaf.

Allowing his crew to carry out their orders, Captain Hans could only watch as the Pioneer became little more than a floating hulk in the path of the impending ion storm.

"Do we have any idea how long we'll have to remain like this?" Hans inquired, just as the starship began to gently pitch and roll like an ancient sailing vessel on the ocean.

Holms shrugged. "From what the Earth Interests have observed with our long-range probes," he answered, feeling the motion of the ship become more pronounced as the storm front approached, "Ion storms are relatively brief phenomena. I'd estimate a few hours until it passes us by."

"So we just have to sit here," Isabella Maxini asked wearily, obviously not particularly enthusiastic about the idea.

"I don't think we have much choice," Holms replied without turning around, instead watching as the controls of the operations station became dark as the Pioneer's computers went offline, "The area outside the ship is going to be charged with energetic particles in a few minutes, and having main systems online under those conditions would be suicide."

"Here it comes," Levente announced, feeling the trembling of the starship become more pronounced.

"Everyone hang on!" Caesar Hans cried, steadying himself in his chair.

A moment later, the full force of the ion storm struck the Pioneer.

Antonio Levente peeled open a small pack of dehydrated emergency rations even as he struggled to sat in his seat, listening all the while to the pounding that the Earth starship was taking.

He sat in relative darkness in the vessel's mess hall, the primary dining facilities aboard the Pioneer, his unappetizing meal illuminated by a powerful halogen torch that he'd placed on the table before sitting down to eat. Around him, the crimson alert strips that ran along the bulkheads pulsed rhythmically, casting a bloody radiance upon everything in the large room.

But perhaps the most unsettling aspect of the entire experience, at least in Levente's opinion, was the constant shaking of the ship, causing every object that wasn't secured to vibrate and fall to the decking. The tactical officer felt this unceasing vibration transmitted through him, making him feel that every bone in his body was trembling.

The ion storm that raged on the other side of the Pioneer's two metre thick hull had hit over three hours earlier, at which point the vessel had been plunged into darkness with the deactivation of almost all her shipboard systems.

For most of that time, Levente himself had remained on the bridge with the other senior staff, simply sitting helplessly in their seats as the ship trembled around them. There had been very little conversation amongst them as they quietly awaited the end of the ion storm, creating a remarkable tense and uncomfortable atmosphere.

This atmosphere was only fuelled by the fact that no one onboard knew how long the Pioneer could withstand such a battering before her hull began to collapse. Hull breaches could be contained by sealing the affected sections of the ship, therefore retaining a breathable atmosphere within the pressurised sections, but multiple breaches would eventually spell disaster.

As a precaution, Caesar Hans had instructed the crew to evacuate the outer sections of the ship. If hull breaches were the eventual outcome of withstanding the ion storm, then at least the first of them wouldn't cost lives.

"Would you mind some company?" a voice asked from behind Levente.

The tactical officer glanced over his shoulder, and recognised Isabella Maxini standing in the entryway, her hands clutching the doorframe for support. Even standing upright had become something of a struggle in the last few hours.

The pilot's face was illuminated by the bright beam of another halogen torch, removed from the storage lockers on the bridge at the same time Levente had taken delivery of his own.

"Take a seat," Levente replied with a smile, watching Maxini stumble across the deck toward him and drop into a chair on the opposite side of his table.

The other Solar Defence Force officer interlocked her fingers and placed her hands on the table, her slender frame vibrating in tandem with the ship.

"How are things on the bridge?" Levente inquired, prodding at his ration pack with a fork and eventually lifting a chunk of dehydrated meat into his mouth.

"Pretty much the same," Maxini said with a sigh, "Hull integrity was down to seventy percent at our last estimate, but without the computers to monitor our status we're still just making educated guesses."

As he chewed the dry meat, Levente considered the information. The Pioneer had lost thirty percent of its hull integrity in the last three hours, so it was conceivable that the overall strength of the ship's outer-skin would now begin to degrade at a faster rate.

"Holms says the ferocity of the storm is decreasing," Maxini continued, "But it's still gonna be a few hours until it dies down to a point where we can use our warp engines."

Levente nodded absently, swallowing hard and feeling a mouthful of his rations slide down his throat. "These are disgusting," he muttered, regarding the plastic-wrapped rations with a look of disdain.

Maxini grinned. "It won't be long before we can get the kitchen facilities back online," she assured him, apparently deriving a measure of amusement from her colleagues displeasure, "I think I'd rather fast until then."

Levente wondered if he should take the same course of action. He certainly didn't relish the prospect of choking down the rest of his emergency rations. Apparently, even the Earth Interest scientists who had developed the Pioneer with the DeSaab shipwrights hadn't considered it necessary to include taste in their emergency provisions.

In some ways, Levente could respect that decision.

But having tasted the result of that same decision, he wasn't particularly pleased with it.

"How is Holms monitoring the storm without having the sensors online?" Levente inquired, the question suddenly occurring to him as he contemplated which foods he would order when the ship was clear of the vast ionic tempest in which it was stranded.

"He launched a series of probes out on different trajectories," Maxini explained, "So that they could take readings from various positions. Even though the probes all have an active power-source, the storm overloading them won't pose a risk to us."

Levente nodded absently, assimilating the information as he regarded the unfinished ration pack before him. Since the uncontrolled energy discharges of the storm sought out and overloaded shipboard systems, the Pioneer couldn't risk having any nonessential systems online, including her sensor arrays with which they could monitor the storm.

Since the vessel had been designed primarily as an exploratory vessel, she had a large complement of autonomous probes that were equipped with an array of sensors. If the probes were struck by an energy discharge, loosing them wouldn't affect the Pioneer's mission.

"He's set up a passive communications link with the probes so we can receive their telemetry," Maxini went on, "Extremely low power so it shouldn't pose a hazard."

"Sounds like he knows what he's doing," Levente observed, referring to the ship's senior most Earth Interests officer.

Maxini opened her mouth to respond, but before any words left her lips, the already trembling starship lurched widely to port, then to starboard as her flight-control systems overcompensated.

Levente was thrown to the deck, managing to turn his body as he fell so that the impact was absorbed along the length of his muscular frame.

He realised that the Pioneer had been struck by an ionic discharge, her metallic hull acting as a lightning-conductor to the immense energy being generated by the storm. Fortunately, these awesome arcs of power only sought out the battered vessel infrequently.

As he pulled himself upright, using the nearby table to aid his ascent, Levente saw Maxini scrambling to her feet after being flung from her seat.

"You okay?" the tactical officer asked, tentatively touching what he assumed were bruised ribs.

"This time," Maxini answered, "But I'm not sure how long I can put up with this."

Although he recognised that Maxini had intended her statement to be light-hearted, Levente wondered how long the crew would be able to withstand the psychological pressure of being stranded within the storm. Being hurled to the deck every few minutes was enough to put anyone in a precarious mental state, even if you didn't take into account the constant shaking of the spacecraft.

Suddenly, a burst of static issued from the personal communicator that Levente wore on his utility belt, followed by the distorted voice of the Pioneer's commanding officer.

"Bridge to all senior officers!" Caesar Hans called, "Report to your stations!"

With a brief glance at each other, Levente and Maxini ran for the doors to the mess hall.

Positioned at his operations console, Svenn Holms glanced up as he heard the sound of an emergency access hatch being hefted open at the rear of the bridge.

Antonio Levente and Isabella Maxini clambered from the small opening, having climbed the ladder inside the confined shaft from wherever they had been located on the ship when Caesar Hans had recalled all senior officers to the command centre.

Directing his attention back toward his console as the pilot and weapons officer swiftly moved to occupy their customary stations, Holms tapped a series of controls beside his primary display screen.

The screen itself showed only the most rudimentary sensor data under current circumstances, the secondary computers running on absolute minimum capacity to prevent an overload caused by the ion storm. The communications system was likewise operating at minimum power, receiving the telemetry from the five probes and relaying it to the operations console for Holms to decipher.

"Status?" Captain Hans asked from his command chair, the request for information directed specifically at the EI director.

"One of the probes we sent out is definitely receiving a signal of some sort," Holms responded, his fingers moving deftly over the sensor-controls as he spoke, "It seems too regular to be a natural product of the storm."

"Therefore making it artificially-generated," Hans concluded, his tacticians mind no doubt already considering how best to deal with any encounter with an alien vessel.

Holms narrowed his gaze at the incoming sensor stream being transmitted by the probe, trying to make sense of the confused readings that were being displayed. "It could be another ship," he offered, "But I can't be certain under these conditions."

"Understood," Hans replied, apparently sympathetic that Holms was seriously curtailed by the lack of powerful shipboard sensors.

"I've triangulated the probe's position," Holms said, "It's approximately four-hundred-thousand kilometres away."

The captain of the Pioneer appeared to take a few moments to consider his next orders, and the best course of action to be taken.

"Can we use the reaction-control thrusters to move closer to the probe?" Hans asked finally.

"Only at low power," Holms told him, "Anything more and we risk attracting a massive energy discharge from the storm."

"Maxini," the captain called, "Use the RCS system in drift-mode to bring us within range of the probe."

The pilot gave a short nod of acknowledgement before inputting the necessary commands, firing the thrusters in short bursts to give the Pioneer some forward momentum.

"I'm adjusting the probe's course," Holms informed everyone, remotely accessing the device's onboard guidance computer and inputting new commands, "I'll try to move it closer to the source of the signal."

Tense seconds passed as the Pioneer gradually closed on the free-flying sensor probe, easing forward through the turbulence of the storm.

Finally, the operations console began to emit a series of high-pitched chirps that warned the crew of a positive reading.

"I've got something," Holms announced urgently, "It's a stationary object dead ahead!"

"A ship?" Hans prompted, pushing himself upright in his chair.

"A ship or a space-station," Holms confirmed, feeling the adrenalin begin to coarse through his veins in anticipation of an alien contact, "Approximately five times our mass."

"Can we risk powering up the primary sensors?" the captain asked, obviously concerned that the Pioneer may be facing a danger other than the constant pounding from the ion storm.

"No," Holms replied flatly, painfully aware that the high-powered scanning beams emitted by the ship's main sensor arrays would attract the lightning strikes of the storm almost instantly.

Suddenly, as if to punctuate his words, the sensor screens before him erupted into harsh static.

"The probe was just hit by an energy-discharge!" Holms gasped in shock, "It's been destroyed!"

Hans was almost out of his chair. "Redirect another probe!" he commanded, "We have to know what's out there!"

Holms punched another series of commands into his operations console, calling upon one of the other four probes to reposition itself. He understood and shared Hans' concern, since there could be a powerful alien ship looming nearby, concealed by the ion storm. If a massive Orion spacecraft was obscured by the shifting energy fields, then the Pioneer would stand no chance in a battle with so many of her systems powered down.

"Captain," Levente called over his shoulder in a warning tone, "If there's another ship out there..."

The tactical officer's words trailed off, his point already made.

"The other probe is coming into range!" Holms reported.

"Scan the object!" Hans ordered sharply.

Holms tapped at his operations panel. "It's a space-station!" he announced, "Minimal energy output!"

"Let's see it," the captain said, pushing himself to his feet and advancing across the trebling deck toward the helm and navigation consoles.

The main viewscreen, served only by the most rudimentary and low-power visual sensors, changed as Holms pressed a control.

Through the static of the electrical interference, set against the constantly shifting backdrop of violet ionic energy, was a menacing alien space station, constructed from burnished dark metals. The vast facility was almost fiercely angular in its design, long arms ending in globes that rotated around a central sphere.

"How big is that place?" Isabella Maxini marvelled, the distinctive sound of awe present in her voice.

Holms empathised with the young helm officer, feeling a similar sensation move through him as he stared at the object that lay before the starship.

"According to these readings," the EI director replied, "It's approximately fifteen-hundred-metres in diameter, and has a mass of over seven-million metric tones."

Caesar Hans was hovering above the two flight-control stations, his eyes locked on the alien structure that dominated the viewscreen. "Is it crewed?"

Holms shook his head. "I'm not detecting any life forms onboard," he said, "But I can't be certain."

Hans paused. "Open all hailing frequencies," he ordered, "Keep the communications system at low-power, use conventional radio signals if you have to."

"Frequencies open," Levente confirmed.

"This is Caesar Hans commanding the SS Pioneer," the captain began, raising his voice to carry to the audio receivers on the bridge, "Please respond."

Holms held his breath as the bridge crew awaited a return signal from the space station that loomed above the Earth vessel.

"I'm not receiving a response," Levente said finally.

Hans turned to issue another command to his tactical officer, but at that moment the Pioneer was struck but the most powerful ionic discharge yet.

The viewscreen flashed a blinding white for an instant as the awesome arc of power lanced out of the storm, hitting the starship like a lightening bolt and driving it backward through space.

The hull screamed under the force, as her hybrid crew of soldiers and scientists were flung violently against the bulkheads and decks. Alarms cried out in every section, warning of extreme damage to the ship's systems.

"The storm's getting worse!" Holms called, shouting over the sound of alert sirens.

Before anyone could respond to the EI director's report, another discharge smashed into the Pioneer somewhere near her starboard warp nacelle, sending geysers of sparks out into space amongst shattered pieces of hull plating.

"Report!" Captain Hans demanded, managing to remain in his central command chair as the vessel was subjected to the jarring impacts.

"We're leaking drive plasma!" Levente announced, "It's coming from our starboard exhaust port!"

Holms gasped as he listened to the tactical officer's words, painfully aware of how dangerous the high-energy plasma being haemorrhaged by the ship could be, especially under such conditions.

"That plasma will attract the ionic discharges like a lightning-conductor!" Holms told everyone frantically, "We have to stop the leak!"

Hans reached for the miniaturized keypad embedded in the arm of his chair, seeking out a specific control before remembering that the ship's internal communications grid had been taken offline. Angrily, he snatched the personal communicator from his belt, speaking quickly into the compact device.

"Bridge to engineering!" the captain snapped, "We need the breach in our starboard exhaust port sealed immediately!"

From a dozen decks below the command centre in the bowels of the Pioneer, the voice of the ship's chief engineering officer responded within moments.

"I realise that, sir!" Jolana Kahn cried over the cacophony of the engine room, "But this sort of breach can only be repaired by going EVA!"

Monitoring the exchange from his operations console, Svenn Holms winced as he realised that if Kahn and her engineers were to stop the flow of energetic drive plasma from the vessel, they would need to don pressure-suits and risk a spacewalk.

"They can't do that, sir!" Holms interjected, "Going outside the ship while we're in this ion storm would be suicide!"

"I'll take the risk!" Kahn snapped, willing to put the safety of the whole crew above her own.

"It's not a question of risk!" Holms shot back, privately impressed with the young women's bravery, "You wouldn't get more than ten metres from the airlock before you were crushed against the hull by the pressure!"

But even as he spoke, Holms realised how pointless his words were. Ensuring that Kahn remained aboard the vessel only meant that she would perish along with her colleagues, since the Pioneer was currently a lit match amongst barrels of gunpowder.

It was only a matter of time before the ion storm sought out the leaking plasma and lit the proverbial fuse, causing the lonely Earth starship to erupt like an exploding fusion bomb.

Suddenly, a revelation struck Holms like another ion discharge.

"The space station!" he shouted.

Hans' head snapped around to face the Earth Interests scientist, but Antonio Levente was already following Holms' train of thought.

"Something that big has to have a docking-bay!" the tactical officer cried.

But Hans was still looking at Holms, apparently searching for confirmation.

The EI director nodded quickly, endorsing Levente's proposal.

"Get us to that station!" Hans commanded, directing his order toward the helm.

Isabella Maxini focused on her controls, tapping the necessary command sequence into the panels and easing the Pioneer forward.

Holms turned in his chair, watching as the immense object that they'd discovered in the centre of this ion storm began to fill the entire viewscreen as the ship drew closer.

The meagre sensor-readings being transmitted from the nearest probe told him that this station was over one and a half kilometres in diameter, larger than any space going structure ever conceived of by humanity's engineers, and was probably capable of supporting at least five thousand people even by Holms' most conservative estimates. The largest orbital habitats in the skies above Earth were home to no more than a thousand.

Driven forward by her thrusters, the Pioneer soared through the writhing energies of the ion storm, a long tendril of energetic drive plasma trailing in her wake. The starship quickly closed on the immense alien station like a tiny remora pursuing a shark, the eyes of her bridge crew locked on the primary display.

"It looks ancient," Caesar Hans muttered absently, narrowing his gaze at the ominous facility. At such a close proximity, even the impeded visual sensors could convey the extensive chemical corrosion evident on the station's vast hull.

Holms agreed with the captain's assessment, and found himself wondering why the builders of this place had allowed it to deteriorate into such a state of disrepair.

"Can you locate a docking bay?"

It took a moment for Holms to realise that the last statement had been directed at him, and spoken by Captain Hans. He surveyed his sensor boards intently, using the free-flying probe to examine the station's exterior.

"I'm detecting an opening approximately two-hundred metres in diameter," Holms said finally, "I doubt their docking facilities will be compatible with our own but we can use the bay itself to shelter from the storm."

"Allowing Kahn and her people to go outside and repair our starboard exhaust," Hans finished, turning to the helm, "Take us inside."

Maxini brought the Pioneer into a gentle turn, carefully lining the starship up with the entry to the docking bay and using the deceleration thrusters to slow their approach.

Holms held his breath as he watched the main viewer, feeling the curious sensation of confinement as the Earth vessel slid slowly into the large chamber. Around him, every primary control station began to softly chirp a proximity warning that solid matter was less than thirty metres from the outer hull. He had never heard these collision alarms outside of the EI space dock above Earth.

On the viewscreen, the ship's powerful and seldom-used searchlights lit up the bay like sunlight, having been activated by Maxini a moment earlier. The rear wall of the bay was less than two hundred metres from the opening, and was now drawing dangerously close to the bow of the Pioneer as the ship eased itself fully into the compartment.

As she slowed to a relative halt, floating debris skittered across her hull, shards of spinning metal that reflected the light being cast by the Pioneer's searchlights. Dozens of work platforms were clearly visible, some anchored to the walls of the bay and others drifting freely.

"We're at full stop," Maxini announced.

With his ship sheltered within the alien docking bay, Hans looked over his shoulder at his EI operations officer. "Are we protected from the storm?"

Holms nodded. "The station should absorb any more ionic discharges," he confirmed, "We can power up our some of our secondary systems."

A slight smile formed on Hans' face. "Excellent," he commented, rising from his chair and straightening his SDF uniform before speaking into his handheld communicator, "Bridge to engineering."

"Kahn here," a disembodied voice replied promptly, "Tell Maxini she'd better not scratch my hull reversing us out of here."

Hans grinned, glancing down at his helm officer. "Assemble a team to go EVA and repair the exhaust port," he instructed Kahn, "Mr. Holms assures me that you'll be protected from the affects of the ion storm."

"Understood," the chief engineer acknowledged, "Kahn out."

As she signed off, Hans ascended the steps to the upper-tier of the bridge where Holms was seated at the operations console. "I'm taking an away-team aboard the station," he informed everyone briskly.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Holms said quietly.

"I'd like some answers," the captain explained, "If this place is inhabited we should probably explain our presence in one of their docking bays."

On the other side of the bridge, Levente pushed himself away from the tactical console and rose to his feet. "When do we leave?" he asked enthusiastically, obviously having assumed that he would be part of the away-team.

"Immediately," Hans answered, placing his hand on the EI director's shoulder, "Mr. Holms here will accompany us. I'm placing Lieutenant Maxini in command of the ship until we return."

"If we return," Holms muttered under his breath.