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breathing units,” J’ar said.
    “The pirates might not have suspected the Prime would cut off the environment as long as some of their crew might be outside the safety of the secured location,” Mel said.
    “They would’ve only realized as their peers started to drop dead.” Only the hardiest, some of the pseudo-reptilian species or other humanoid hybrids that could go without air for a short period of time, would’ve survived to don breathing units.
    “Man, what are we letting ourselves in for allying with the Prime?” one of her soldiers muttered. His shock came clearly over the com.
    “The Galactic Alliance Council has valid reasons.”
    “Like what?” the same soldier asked.
    “The Antareans,” she said.
    Those two words would evoke recent memories from the jump station for her team.
    Mel took a breath, blocking out the too-vivid images from the jump station and more distant ones that still haunted her from childhood.
    “The Prime have protected themselves and the rest of the Milky Way for eons from the Antareans. The Antareans kill, rape and mutilate with impunity. They do not surrender. They do not give up.” Mel stopped and swallowed the lump forming in her throat, struggling to regain the control she was in danger of losing. “You have to beat them or die trying. Don’t ever forget that. The Prime haven’t, and they are still here to fight.”
    “Listen to the Captain,” Nowicki said. “She’s seen the results of Antarean land raids before in the Prater region.”
    Damn , she forgot Nowicki knew that story—one she’d only shared after one too many scotches one interminably long, sleepless night.
    “What I’m trying to say is don’t prejudge the Prime too harshly,” she said. “They are now a part of the Alliance. Their methods, although draconian by our measures, work.
    Just be thankful we only have to fight pirates this go-round.”
    “I’m betting no other pirates will ever attack a Prime ship again—after this lesson,” joked A’tem.

    Laughter at the Volusian’s conclusion came across the com. She sighed with relief.
    Her troops were wholly on board. They’d do their job and do it well for the pride of the Alliance and Gold Squadron.
    “Let’s go in. Shields on full. Take out anything moving in that docking bay.” A roaring war whoop from A’tem, J’ar and the other Volusians on the boarding team echoed across the ear-coms.
    * * * *
     
    Prime Star Ship Galanti
    Mel stood on her second blood-covered deck within the last fifty-plus standard hours. The jump station hadn’t been quite this bad, because they’d reached it soon after the initial SOS call. Here there was barely a surface that did not have blood, body parts, or bodies covering it. The Prime soldiers had put on a valiant effort, but they’d been surprised and most likely outnumbered.
    Swallowing back the bile threatening to come up her throat, vomiting was not advisable when wearing a breathing unit, she stepped around one of the dead Prime crew, his weapon still clutched in his hand. She bent over and gently closed his eyes, murmuring a benediction for his warrior’s soul.
    As she made her way through the large bay toward the perimeter and the control consoles, Mel idly wondered who the traitor or traitors had been that had shut down the ship’s security against intruders and allowed the raiders to board. She guessed she’d find out later, once she made contact with the remaining Prime.
    “Status, Nowicki?”
    She moved to stand near her second-in-command as he re-entered the docking bay with his team. The control console monitors were all dark. All power to this level was cut off, and as suspected, environmental was dead. Emergency lighting provided an eerie glow in the cavernous bay.
    “We checked the two contiguous levels, using the maintenance tunnels since the lifts are inoperable. All the bad guys we encountered are either dead or secured.” He nodded toward the opposite wall to where the