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Uritski for habitation. A civilian facility, Uritski Station had some limited armaments to stave off any would-be pirate activity, but the station wasn’t meant to hold off a full-scale military assault on its own.
    “Report,” Pettigrew commanded as the crew brushed off the effects of translating from hyperspace into realspace. It hit different people in different ways, but it always hit, causing dizziness, nausea, headaches—something. The effects passed quickly in some people and Pettigrew was usually lucky in that regard.
    “Translation complete. Ship secured, all stations report green,” Knox said as he clung to his console off to the captain’s right, fighting away the last of his vertigo.
    Taylin Adams spoke up from her station, located in front of the captain’s chair. “Picket drones away. Sensors constructing visuals of Uritski Station. On viewer.” A 3D viewscreen popped into sight at the front of the bridge and what it showed was not encouraging.
    Parading in front of Uritski Station as if it were taunting any onlookers was an unidentified vessel. Whereas Tempest and other Union warships were oriented horizontal to the elliptic plane of a star system, this vessel seemed to adopt a vertical orientation—it was ‘tall,’ while Tempest was ‘wide.’ The unidentified ship was about the same size of Tempest , and from top to bottom, its silhouette looked like a crescent moon. As it passed back and forth in front of the station, the ship periodically discharged what looked like some sort of energy beam. Farther out from the station were two separate clusters of floating debris, the remains of the two frigates assigned to protect the outpost.
    Pettigrew waited for data to be collected and analyzed. “Ensign Davis,” he turned to the communications officer. “Make challenge on that ship. Order them to stand down.” He knew that probably wasn’t going to happen, but he wanted to play it by the regs, at least for now.
    “Captain,” Commander Knox reported. “No other hostiles in the system. Several civilian ships are outbound, but none of them appears to have been attacked. They’re all just running away.”
    “Have either of the settlements on the planet’s surface been hit, Mr. Knox?”
    “Negative, sir. No evidence the station has been boarded either.”
    Taylin Adams took a deep breath and spun in her chair to face Pettigrew. “Captain, preliminary report on Bandit Alpha. Origin unknown. Configuration is unfamiliar and many elements of this vessel do not conform to any known spaceship technology. They’re running some sort of sensor block that we’ve been unable to penetrate—so far. Engine type unknown. Crew compliment unknown. Hull composition…”
    “Ms. Adams,” interrupted Knox, “is there anything you can tell the Captain that we actually DO know?”
    “Yes, sir,” she responded, shooting Knox an icy glance. Most of the crew understood that there was no love lost between Knox and Adams. Some felt Knox was threatened by her competence and many felt she should have gotten the position of XO when it became available four months ago. “We DO know that the unidentified ship has a mass tonnage roughly equivalent to Tempest . We’re also reasonably sure those energy weapon’s they’re firing at the station are some type of particle beams. All of the station’s weapons have been destroyed, but the station itself has sustained only minor damage.”
    “Yeah, that’s odd to me,” Pettigrew commented as he rose and walked closer to Knox and Adams. “Look at those two frigates, both of them totally destroyed. But there’s Uritski Station, which has been under attack for how long, around six standard hours now? Roughed up, but essentially still in one piece. How does a Class One space station survive for six hours, when two armed frigates were blown apart long ago?” Pettigrew pointed at Knox as if he were a professor in a classroom demanding a student answer his