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being boarded by Antareans was especially scary. The new scourge of the galaxy was the stuff of nightmares. It was amazing the young woman wasn’t on the floor in a fetal position. “What can I do for you?”
    “There’s an emergency call for any Alliance military ship within this region.” The young woman swallowed. “It’s from the Galanti . It’s a Prime starship that came through the jump about one galactic standard hour before we were attacked. They’ve been attacked also, ma’am.”
    “By Antareans?”
    “No, ma’am,” stuttered Ms. Baldwin. “Or, at least—”
    “Replay the message for me, please.” Mel strode over to the com-panel.
    Ms. Baldwin keyed in the code. A deep, gravelly voice boomed from the speakers:
    “This is the Prime ship Galanti , carrying the ambassadorial delegation. We’ve been boarded by pirates. We are under a Code Argenta. Repeat, a Code Argenta. Any Alliance ship within ninety-six standard hours of this message, please respond as quickly as possible. Contact Prime Military Command for specifics on Argenta.” The message then repeated on an eternal loop.
    Mel shivered. The voice of the unknown Prime male pierced her very soul. She knew she would do anything possible to reach him—them—in time. Especially since she knew very well what a Code Argenta was.
    “Code Argenta?” Ensign A’tem muttered. “What does it mean?”
    “It means,” muttered Mel, “if we don’t get to them within ninety-six standard hours of this message, they’ll blow the ship.”
    “How do you know that, Captain?” Nowicki asked.
    “I helped my father translate some ancient Prime military treatises. I thought that the self-destruct tactics were eliminated as wasteful and barbaric several centuries ago,” she replied, frowning.
    “I guess they brought them back.” Nowicki grimaced.
    Her second-in-command’s distaste over the order of mass suicide by a military captain was obvious in his demeanor. The thought of having to make such a command decision made her sick to her stomach, but she understood the ancient Prime reasoning. It was a “scorched earth” philosophy: if we can’t beat you, we won’t leave you anything to help you kill our people. Maybe the Prime’s ongoing battle against the Antareans had necessitated the re-institution of such a drastic measure.
    “I guess,” Mel finally replied.
    Capturing Nowicki’s gaze, she issued orders rapidly as she strode to the jump station control room exit. “Get ready to disembark. Leave one of our battlecruisers here to aid the jump station staff until the M.P.s get here. Send a message to Alliance Command that we will respond to the Galanti ’s distress call. Then contact the rest of our squadron and Warten’s. Give them the Galanti’s coordinates. Tell them to get there as soon as they can, then hold position well away from the Galanti. Figure safety distance for a total fission reaction and then add half again as much.”

    “Should I contact the Galanti and tell them help is on the way?” Ms. Baldwin called out.
    Mel stopped and turned. “No. I don’t want any other enemies in the area to know we are on the way. We’ll contact the Prime only if we cannot make it to them in time.” They’d make it—or die trying. She wouldn’t allow the Prime captain to sacrifice the Ambassador and his delegation or the ship’s crew.
    She led her men out the door and into the corridor leading to the docking spokes.
    “Tell Warten that I want his ships to keep anyone other than Alliance ships from approaching the area. Plus, I don’t want any pirates escaping the Prime ship. Only the Leonidas ’s teams will approach and dock. I’m not taking any chances on blowing up anyone else.”
    “So, we get to be the only lucky ones, huh?” Nowicki quipped.
    “Yes. Isn’t that why you signed on to this dog-and-pony show? For the thrills and chills?”
    Nowicki just laughed and saluted as he waved her ahead of him into their