Inside the warship, a sadness gripped everyone in the tiny family. An overwhelming feeling covered them and pressed in on them from every side.

"You had to," Becky said, choking back her sobs. "Or we'd be dead now."

Mother held that thought. She had done the best she could do. All she could now was hope it had been enough-because their greatest test was now before them at the gathering of fleets.

In that precious moment, she shared her near-term memories with her children.

The monitor nearest the children flashed to life with images of long ago; images of three young children running and playing through brightly lit corridors, playing games of hide and seek and games of tag. Long forgotten toys were crushed tight in their tiny embraces, and cherubic faces looked with wide, innocent smiles back at them from the consoles. There was laughter again, laughter and carefree joy in the faces that seemed so familiar, yet they were not.

The images seemed to be of another life, another time. The long years melted away and were relived together one more time.

Mother and her children were a happy family. One last time.

As Mother blacked out the last image, Jaric and Becky turned to leave, to be alone before the coming fight.

"One final item, my children," Mother began. "As the fleets engage, stay near to me. I will protect you."

A look of puzzlement came across Jaric's features as he turned to Becky. Becky, too, seemed surprised.

"We will," Becky answered halfheartedly as she and Jaric turned and left the room. Kyle alone stood in the Operations center, the heart of the great ship. This room was the place the children had always imagined Mother really lived, though now that they were young adults, they realized that she was the entire ship.

"After this is all over, we have to help Becky. You know, make her happy. A celebration maybe?" Kyle looked toward the optical viewer.

"A celebration," Mother echoed. "A celebration party."

"Yes." A shadow crept over his face. "Protect them, Mother. Becky and Jaric," Kyle said with a serious tone. "But there's no need to protect me, I'll take care of myself. Whatever happens, don't leave either of them vulnerable during the battle. Ever."

"I will protect all my children," Mother paused. "A good mother will gladly give her life for her children. I will protect you all."

Kyle shook his head. "Don't be a hero for me. Those two should be happy, they deserve to be happy.

Becky and Jaric have each other." Kyle paused, fighting his burning emotions. "They will marry after this is all over. And maybe...maybe the advanced technology of the Hrono can bring the human race back to life, with them as the first parents. The parents of a new race of humanity." Kyle looked down, a deep sadness etched on his face. "But there will never be anyone for me."

"Do not feel loneliness, Kyle. We will begin our search for survivors again once this battle is over. There may have been others." Mother paused. "Remember, the universe is a very large place," Mother said.

Kyle straightened and began making his way to his fighter. He stopped at the optical viewer.

"I will protect myself, and I'll help you protect them. But under no circ.u.mstances are you to forsake their safety for mine. I order you," Kyle said firmly. Under his breath, in whispered words so quiet that even Mother's sensitive microphones could not hear them, he spoke a final time. "There's no one for me."

Mother remained silent as Kyle left the room. He had ignored her words about searching once again for any human survivors. She discerned from his expression, and from his silence, that he no longer believed in finding any survivors.

Mother's calculations agreed.

Still, her processors burned with activity. It did not feel right to Mother, but logic and fact spoke otherwise. Long seconds pa.s.sed as she wrestled with cold logic and the warm concept of hope, and then a familiar voice came over the comm channel.

"You must remember that your life is also important, MotherShip." Minstrel's voice echoed inside her circuits. "Protect yourself. And the precious memories of mankind."

Mother's processors burned with activity.

Chapter Forty.

"Ships from theBand Bahka have joined Sarn's battle group," Commander Curja reported concisely.

"Good," Rawlon said. "That completes the greatest fleet the Kraaqi have ever a.s.sembled. All the Bands fighting together again, under my command." He motioned to his executive officer. The viewscreen came alive and displayed the ma.s.sive armada: as far as the eye could see, an ocean of warships against the velvety blackness-Kraaqi, Hrono and Mewiis.

"This day will live in legend," Rawlon said.

Curja approached the Admiral's chair and spoke in a lowered voice.

"I am still concerned with our left wing. It is true that the Mewiis have provided every ship that could fly.

But so many are underarmed; traders and research vessels only recently refitted for battle." Curja leaned closer. "I fear the T'kaan will sense this weakness early, and if they hammer the Mewiis' fleet and break through the left wing, our rear will then be vulnerable." Curja watched his Admiral intently. "We cannot be outflanked."

"I have placed three Kraaqi battle groups in reserve just for that eventuality. The Mewiis are not a warrior race." Rawlon stroked a horn in thought before he continued. "But they fight for their children.

They will not be easily defeated." The admiral's face grew grim. "But I do have a concern." He turned to a junior officer. "Get me a comm link to Admiral Tarlog. At once!"

Rawlon leaned forward in his chair as he brushed his hands through the narrow black mane that ran over the top of his head and down his shoulders.

The main viewscreen came alive. The grim face of Tarlog, topped by the ridge of upturned scales that extended over the top of his hairless head, gazed sternly back at the Kraaqi Admiral.

"Report, Rawlon. And be quick. I must place my formations into their final positions." The Hrono's eyes burned with impatience. "In accordance toour plan of battle."

"And that of the MotherShip," Rawlon growled.

"Yes," the Hrono admiral snorted Rawlon sat down, his posture one of relaxation in his commander's chair. "Look at your viewscreen, Admiral Tarlog. Look closely." Rawlon pointed. "Gaze at the center of the greatest battle line the universe has ever witnessed." Rawlon eyed the image carefully. "See the courage and valor of Kraaqi.

All Bands have answered the call-all ships are battle ready. Over one thousand warships, and twice that of fighters." The taloned finger pointed at the Hrono like a weapon. "But where is the rest of the Hrono fleet? Do we see again the treachery of Hrono here, on this Day of Days?"

A nervous tic began in the etched corner of Tarlog's scaly face. Raising a hand over his mouth, theHrono admiral whispered to the aide standing beside him, eliciting a wolfish smile from the younger officer. Tarlog turned back to face Rawlon.

"The Hrono keep their word- our ships will come. We do not practice treachery as an art form as do the Kraaqi," Tarlog said.

Rawlon was instantly on his feet. Curja reached over and quickly grabbed Rawlon's arm, holding him fast as he reached out at the taunting visage with his fist.

"I am not the enemy. Not today," Tarlog reminded them.

Rawlon's eyes narrowed. He nodded at his aide, who then released his arm.

"We must both remember that fact-I as much as you." Rawlon nodded silently to himself. "Come, today makes history for another reason-Kraaqi and Hrono fight together for the first time in history. Our mutual enemy even now draws close."

The Hrono admiral's eyes seemed to look past the Kraaqi, and then his eyes refocused back.

"Yes, we are allies." Tarlog paused. "What is your request, Admiral?" He asked with military bearing.

Rawlon turned and sat again in his chair, his muscular arms resting casually across it.

"Where is the rest of your fleet, Tarlog?" Rawlon asked firmly.

The Hrono leader did not hesitate. "They are in a reserve position...within attack distance."

Rawlon's eyes narrowed. "Where is the famed Home Fleet? Is it still around the Hrono home world?"

The Hrono commander stood slowly and stepped closer until only his face filled the viewscreen, hiding the rest of the Hrono battle cruiser's bridge.

"They are in position-in reserve. The Hrono will hold the right wing of the battleline. Don't worry."

Tarlog smiled. "You must remember, my Kraaqi friend, that though we do not build our warships on the same scale as you, our smaller ships are better armed with superior technology and speed. Though unseen, they are close enough to strike. Trust my judgment, and the technology of Hrono." Tarlog chuckled under his breath. "Our technology has always ensured our superiority."

"We know that you worship your technology, you G.o.dless Hrono," Rawlon countered. "But it has never enabled you to defeat the warriors of Kraaqi." Rawlon pointed his taloned finger again at the Hrono.

"Just make sure that when I call for the Home Fleet, that they are there when I need them.. The MotherShip has estimated that all ships of the Three Kingdoms are needed, just to equal the T'kaan Third. And remember...Rawlon is still the appointed commander of this a.s.sembled fleet." He stared, defying the Hrono to counter.

But Tarlog only nodded in agreement. "Yes, we fight under you, Rawlon. This day. The Home Fleet is ready-out of sensor range." Tarlog bowed toward Rawlon. "The entire Hrono fleet now await your orders. As do I."

Rawlon seemed almost shocked at Tarlog's last words. He nodded. "Many centuries of warfare are hard to discard. The Kraaqi value your ships, Admiral Tarlog." Rawlon paused a brief moment, and thenadded. "We value the courage of the Hrono. May our enemies tremble at this great battle fleet a.s.sembled before them."

"Sir!" A junior Kraaqi officer announced to Rawlon as he stepped beside him. "The MotherShip and the fighters of the three humans have just arrived and joined the lead battle group of Kraaqi fighters."

"Good, I have a.s.signed them to the Death squadron-now under the leadership of Rok. They will all proceed to the forward point to engage the enemy first." Rawlon growled under his breath in thought. He nodded. "Send Chagak and Krazak with their Frigate battlegroups to join them."

Rawlon waved his taloned hand in salute toward the viewscreen. But even before he could ask for a comm channel to welcome the honored allies of humanity, another officer suddenly raised his head from his station and spoke in a calm voice.

"The T'kaan fleet has just come into sensor range, sir."

Chapter Forty-One.

Each Kraaqi Captainwatched as their viewscreens filled with the horned prows of the T'kaan war fleet.

On they came, multiplying before their eyes like hordes of insects. The Hrono officers and the Mewiis watched in shared silence inside their own ships as the T'kaan multiplied across their own viewscreens- hundreds of warships, and then thousands.

And more.

Kyle reached down and readjusted the controls on his sensors. But the numbers kept increasing. He pounded the control panel harshly, as if that would make the numbers stop rising. But it did nothing.

Everywhere the eye gazed, there were T'kaan warships-from ma.s.sive formations of battle cruisers, to wave after endless wave of fighters; from tightly packed squadrons of the deadly frigates, to the battle lines of the huge horned Battleships. Still they came, and still the ships multiplied.

"Something's wrong!" Kyle barked as he began adjusting his sensors again.

Mother's processors began a.s.similating the vastness of the approaching fleet and for the first time in her existence, she felt confused.

"I've got incoming," Becky shouted as a wave of Scout fighters stormed down.

One hundred and forty-four ships closed with them-a single formation of T'kaan fighters. "Becky! Take half the Death squadron and close with them." Jaric ordered. He looked over at another wave now veering directly towards him. "I'll handle this group. Kyle, we need reinforcements. Now!"

Even as the words were spoken, a formation of nine T'kaan frigates came into weapon's range.

Four Kraaqi frigates observed this maneuver and quickly moved in position to engage them. Silently the T'kaan frigates turned as one, showing their full profiles in a battle line opposite the line of Kraaqi warships as they flew in parallel.

"Fire!" Krazak ordered to his Kraaqi frigates.

Almost simultaneously, the T'kaan fired their full broadsides. Blaster bolts crossed each other and blossomed across the shields of each ship like electric flowers, brief and fantastic.

Mother's alarms rang out. She turned to engage six more T'kaan frigates that had suddenly drawn into range.

From his flagship, Rawlon stared dumb-founded. Slowly he stood as the horde of ships became clearer on his viewscreen. His hands reached out blindly as he walked between his officers' stations, straight toward the viewscreen that continued to hold him hypnotized.

Inexorably, the T'kaan warships multiplied before his very eyes.

"How many ships, Curja?"

But all the officers around the bridge were frozen at the reality of the nightmare unfolding before them.

"Curja!" Rawlon shouted, as he continued staring into the sea of horned ships. Like everyone else who couldn't take their eyes away, a feeling of sudden, impending doom filled his heart. Finally, he let out a long breath and spoke in a hushed tone.

"Get me the MotherShip."

But Mother was busy. Her primary weapon was primed, but she held it as she launched a spread of torpedoes at the formation of frigates, even as they fired at her.

"How can there be so many?" Kyle shouted as a T'kaan fighter exploded in his sights. His ship shuddered. Kicking his thrusters, he began rolling away, trying to see where the fire was coming from.

In a vast swirling spiral of ships, Becky led her Kraaqi fighters in a free-for-all punctuated by frequent showers of explosions. The tracers were thick around her ship and coming from every direction.

As soon as she finished off one horned fighter, two more engaged her. Wiping her blonde hair aside, she saw that her shields had already dropped below fifty percent, and just five minutes into the battle. She targeted another T'kaan and took it out.

A second T'kaan frigate broke in two as Mother brought her twelve guns to bear on a group of fighters that had swooped upon her flanks. Mother felt her shields diminishing under more direct hits from the frigates as she prepared to fire a third spread of torpedoes at them.

Her sensors suddenly registered the T'kaan markings on the ships she was destroying. For amillisecond-an electronic eternity-all her internal processes froze at once. But the image was double-checked, and would not go away.

Mother immediately sent the urgent signal back to Rawlon's flagship.