Vendetta, Su'bartu Maelstrom Their new home was nothing to get too excited about. With crew and warriors from a dozen ships, there was little time for sensible segregation aboard Vendetta. The ship had a nominal strength of a little over six hundred crew and the capacity for a combat contingency of another five hundred. This was being pushed to the limit, with over seventeen hundred personnel now on board and a large number of those wounded from the bloody escape. Xenophon and his friends sat in one of the repair shops located to the rear of the ship. There were no spare quarters, and even this space was occupied by another dozen survivors of the battle. The FTL alert sounded through the room, indicating that the ship would jump within the next ten seconds.

"Here we go again," said Glaucon glumly.

The others ignored him and waited for the inevitable moment when the ship changed from its current velocity to almost impossible speeds. More importantly, every single jump reminded them how far inside the Median Empire they were travelling, and also how much less fuel they would now have. It was over almost as soon as it started, and the all clear signal reverberated through the workshop.

"What are the odds we'll find the Armada?" asked Xenophon.

Roxana sat on the floor and dragged a number of tools and rivets to her. She laid them out in an odd pattern before explaining. For a second, Xenophon was distracted by the fact that her overalls were torn at the shoulder, revealing skin and a few minor grazes. She spotted him watching and raised her eyebrow in annoyance. She picked up a spanner and placed it to the right.

"This is where we split from the fleet, right? We were on the periphery of the Maelstrom when Cyrus gave us the news. After a small number of jumps, we made it here, the location where Tissaphernes betrayed us."

She placed another spanner a short distance away from the first one. She then stood up, walked to the other side of the room and placed another tool on the ground.

"What is that?" asked one of the men from the Olympia. Roxana didn't recognise him, but he wore the patches and uniform of one of Pasion's soldiers. Roxana looked at him and nodded with satisfaction.

"This, my friends, is the border side of the Su'bartu Maelstrom."

A few of the other survivors stood up and walked over. One, an older man of about fifty years of age, laughed at her.

"Rubbish, what would you know about interstellar cartography?"

Xenophon stood up and moved to intercept the man.

"She was an Alliance naval officer, so I think she knows what she is talking about."

The soldier that had first spoken looked back to the two spanners and then to the point described by Roxana. Unlike the older man, he seemed genuinely interested in what was happening, rather than looking for an argument, no matter the subject.

"So how many jumps will it take to reach the Core Worlds at the other side of the Maelstrom?"

Tamara moved over to Xenophon and looked at the objects. She moved in an odd manner, her body twisting as she walked as though her joints were constantly seizing. Xenophon watched her and did his best not to laugh; it was an obvious ploy of hers to get the attention of the others in the room.

Such a petulant teenager, he thought.

"Even if we can make this long trip, how will we find the Legion when they are so far away? Do we even know their final destination?"

Xenophon was surprised at her intelligent observation. Even he hadn't considered the problem of what awaited them at the other side. It was not as though the Core Worlds were even a handful of planets. The name itself was a misnomer, as there were hundreds, if not thousands of worlds in that part of space. They could spend millennia travelling the stars and never find the Armada.

"Good point," he said.

Roxana nodded in agreement.

"That is a very good point. We have the last course of the Legion and a target, and that is it."

Of course, the target!

Glaucon now decided to join in with the conversation. He remained sat on the floor, but the tone of his voice implied scepticism of the entire venture.

"So our entire plan is based upon finding the Emperor of the largest and most powerful Empire ever known?"

Roxana glanced over to him and threw him a grin.

"That's about it."

He looked directly at her, toying with her on the subject.

"So what happens if we arrive first, one little cruiser and a pocketful of destroyers, against a million ships and soldiers? It will be over in a matter of seconds."

"Very true," said a man who waited in the shadows of the doorway. Everybody in the room turned to look at him. He stepped forward, but the dim lights from the ceiling barely showed his features.

"That is why I have formulated an alternative, interested?" he asked mysteriously.

Tamara slinked over to him and placed her hands on the man's shoulder in a provocative fashion. Xenophon watched her toying with the man but was more concerned at the stranger. He straightened his back and approached him.

"Who are you?" he asked.

The stranger stepped a little closer, and the light of the swinging lamp finally lit up his face and chest so that he could be seen. He wore the fatigues of the Legion, the dark grey, almost black material worn by all combat forces in the unit. His insignia had been removed, and in some places it seemed quite hastily added, based on the marks on his clothing.

"My name is Ezra, and I have friends on this ship who feel the same way."

The room was silent as none of those present wanted to say anything. Xenophon distrusted the man immediately. His body language and vocal tone indicated dishonesty. Ezra continued before any of them could refute his suggestion.

"If you want to hear more of what we have to offer, meet us in one hour in the aft storage depot. It is being used to store used power couplings. Don't bother coming unless you're serious. Lives depend on keeping this quiet."

He looked about the room, turned and left, moving into the darkness as quickly and quietly as he had arrived. Tamara moved back and slumped down next to Glaucon. Roxana and Xenophon moved close so that the others couldn't hear them.

"What's that all about?" asked Tamara.

Xenophon rubbed his chin as he considered the situation. It wasn't an easy one.

"Well, it is clear our journey will be a difficult one. We need to know more, though. Is this Ezra looking for a different route home, or does he have a different plan?"

"Why not just bring this up with the Dukas?" suggested Glaucon.

"You saw his uniform. All of his insignia have been torn off. Either he did that himself, or somebody did it for him. Either way, he doesn't represent the authority on this ship. The question is what do we do?"

The older soldier in the room stood up and walked to the doorway. He looked over his shoulder and back at those staying behind.

"That man makes sense. If he's right, then we need options, so who's coming with me?"

A handful of men wandered after him but said nothing. The soldier snorted in derision and then moved away.

"Look, we need to know what is going on, whether they have a useful idea, or they don't. I don't know about you, but I'd like a few options of my own."

Tamara nodded eagerly.

"Yeah, definitely, are we going then?"

Xenophon placed his right hand on her shoulder, doing his best to calm her down.

"No, Tamara, just you."

Tamara looked almost hurt at the suggestion, but a friendly glance from Roxana seemed to reassure her. The two were the closest in the group with Tamara treating the older ex naval officer almost like a surrogate mother, or possibly more an older sister.

"Your little show earlier certainly won't have escaped his attention."

"Yeah, and you do like the attention," snapped back Glaucon.

Roxana grimaced at his words and chose to ignore them.

"You should go and find out what he is planning and also how much support he has."

"What about the rest of you?" asked Tamara.

Xenophon looked about the room, checking nobody else was listening in or could hear them speak. Most were involved in their own discussion, and a small group were already fast asleep. He leaned in closer to Tamara.

"We will find somewhere nearby in case you need help. This is really important, you understand that, right?"

Tamara simply smiled back. Roxana reached out and turned the teenager's head so that they faced each other.

"They might be planning something violent. If this goes wrong, we could end up trapped on a crippled ship. This is important, really important, okay?"

Tamara looked hurt at the suggestion she wasn't taking any of the conversation seriously. Her face appeared to lose definition as she pouted in annoyance.

"Yeah, I know. I'm not stupid. I'll find out what's going on, you can count on it."

Glaucon and Xenophon looked back at the others in the room and then to each other. It looked like most of them there had little interest in doing anything other than resting their bodies from whatever hardships they had suffered in the last day. Xenophon took a deep breath and then stood, moving slowly so as to not draw undue attention. A small group of perhaps five or six seemed to be watching him. He spotted them from the corner of his eye but did his utmost to avoid eye contact. Roxana moved back to her original position, and Tamara moved to Xenophon. He leaned towards her face and pulled her close. Tamara was surprised at his movement but went with it, worried that it might be part of the ruse. He placed his mouth close her face and whispered quietly.

"Let's do this. You go first, and we'll follow in ten minutes, somewhere we can watch the routes leading to the room. If you hit trouble, get out fast. We'll be close to help you."

She waited, still confused and unsure as to what to do next. Xenophon could see a number of people watching them, probably wondering what the hell they were doing.

This isn't good, he thought.

He squeezed her arm, the pressure making her gasp a little. He then whispered.

"Hit me, and then go."

Tamara looked at him and gave him the biggest grin he'd seen in a long time. She stepped back and slapped him across the face; the impact was loud and heard by everybody there.

"Bastard!" she snapped and stormed out of the room. Xenophon turned to find Glaucon looking right back at him with a massive grin on his face. Roxana shook her head in amusement at the turn of events.

"Shut up, both of you!" retorted Xenophon, but it was useless, they were already laughing along with half a dozen of the others in the room. He moved back to his friends and slumped down next to Glaucon. His friend leaned in and spoke quietly.

"Well played, my friend, I don't know what your game was, but they bought it."

He rubbed his face, surprised at the continuing stinging sensation in his cheek.

Damn, she can hit hard!

Tamara entered the aft storage depot and instantly felt pangs of doubt and worry. She had been keen to do her part, especially as in the last few days she seemed to end up being more of a hindrance than a help to her friends. She wore, as usual, her Legion overalls but with her black leather jacket over the top. It was hardly regulation, but the Legion wasn't like any other military force. She moved inside to find nearly thirty people, almost all men, and all of them grimy and angry looking. Once through the door, it slid shut with a clang. Her bright blue hair appeared almost dark grey in the low light, and it took several seconds for her eyes to adjust.

"Is that it?" asked an unseen voice at the far end of the room.

The sound of feet moving about threw her off before another spoke. She could now see their shapes and a few faces in the low red lights being used for discretion.

"Looks like it," said another.

A ding of metal striking metal indicated the start of the meeting. The first man spoke, his voice low and serious. Tamara moved to the right and leaned against one of the dozens of cases, each one presumably containing a number of used power couplings.

"Thank you for coming here. I expected a few more, but this will do."

He said nothing for a moment, but the red glow increased slightly until the room was lit well enough for her to make out the outlines and shapes of the others there.

"Dukas Xenias is on a suicide mission, and you are here to find out what alternatives we have to offer. We have people in the command staff as well as a number on the destroyers out there," he said, lifting his right arm and pointing to the wall of the room.

"If we stay on this course, there are very few outcomes that will work well for us. We have a vast distance to travel, hostile forces all around us and what do we have? One ancient cruiser, packed with dead, wounded and infirm. Just one Median cruiser could take us on, right now."

There was a murmur of discontent from the other side of the room. At least two, perhaps three men started to argue about what the speaker had been saying. A third man managed to prise them apart and turned back to speak to the man running the meeting. Tamara recognised his voice as Ezra, the man that had visited them in their quarters.

"We understand the problem, tell them, and tell them our plan," he said in a firm, impatient tone.

The speaker paused, possibly for effect or maybe while he gathered his thoughts.

"We have checked our route and the state of supplies and have calculated that this ship, with its standard crew, could make its way back home."

The room broke out into uproar as the myriad of figures started muttering, shouting, some even flailing about to strike the others. One of the men struck Tamara and she slid to the ground, unsure as to whether it was intentional or not. Ezra called out to the others.

"Stop this nonsense and listen!"

It took almost a minute for them to calm down and even then a few continued muttering in the background.

"If we follow the old slavers' route, we can make it back to Bissus. It isn't an easy run, but in two weeks we can be back in Terran territory."

"Bissus?" asked another.

"Yes," replied Ezra, "it is one of the old border worlds. From there, we can take transports to any planet or colony."

A few seemed placated by the destination, but Ezra spoke again.

"There is a price though, and it is a steep one. We would have to move the wounded to the destroyers. We would need the space for extra fuel and supplies."

Tamara was confused at his suggestion.

"What about those left behind?"

"What about them? If we choose this option, they will have to manage with the four destroyers."