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humor in a bad situation.
    Smith scooted closer, setting his hand on her back while he attached two alligator clips to the fiber optic cords dangling from her nape. His leads disappeared under the sleeves of his blue uniform. “Stop moving.”
    “I have a job to do, Civilian Smith,” she snapped but stopped struggling.
    Bei focused on resurrecting the targeting system. He kept meeting dead ends in the mainframe. The hair at the base of his neck rose. Only a physical cut could do that. Had the Starfarer taken a physical blow from flying debris?
    “So do I.” Smith tucked the commander’s hair behind her ears, allowing her to glare up at him. “You’ve sustained damage to your spinal column, severing most of your auxiliary connections. The only place you’re going is to the infirmary.”
    Bei choked on his snort. Commander Keyes would die before going to the infirmary. His amusement faded as quickly as it came. Too many Syn-Ens were willing to sacrifice. Not this time. The commander’s subordinates could handle the problems. Already he felt them searching the decks looking for the manual tear. He sent the command overriding her mobility core. “You’ll return to duty after a medic and tech okay you.”
    “But, I have to restore the com link.” A spasm curled her into a fetal position and locked her in place. Anger flashed in her dark eyes. “Admiral, I need to do my job.”
    Ignoring her, Bei searched for Chief Rome’s signal on the WA. Where was security when he needed them? Bei switched his focus to the waiting tech. “See to the captain.”
    Smith nodded, flipped open his pack, then leaned over Captain Penig. Slim ebony fingers danced over the older man’s torso before slipping into the white hair and tugging free the fiber optic cables. “Hey, Captain. I came to make sure you weren’t trying to get out of that fishing trip on Terra Dos.”
    Captain Penig’s head twitched. Drool glistened in the corner of his mouth.
    Bei watched the civie closely. If he so much as treated the captain with a picogram of disrespect, the tech would find himself at the bottom of the access shaft.
    “I’m going to turn you now.” Smith gently rolled the captain onto his left side. Quickly connecting the alligator clips, the tech smiled at the readout on his arm. “No liquefied or scrambled brains, just a few burned out circuits.” The civie flicked back a fingertip and unscrewed the plate covering the back of the captain’s neck. “Guess you’re glad I insisted you try my upgrades, huh?”
    The captain jerked again then lay still.
    “No chariot ride for you, not until you’ve caught a fish.” A soft twang infused the civie’s voice. “It should only take me a minute to replace the leads, then I’ll see to you, Admiral. A man’s toes and face should point in the same direction.”
    Bei leaned against the hub. The tech definitely needed a closer look. Captain Penig would live because Smith had done what other humans refused to do, upgrade the older Syn-Ens. Static filled the LCDs. Bei glanced at the white screen.
    “Guess, I trained my crew pretty good after all if they got the com system up and running so quickly.” The commander craned her neck.
    Ensign Faso’s smirking face filled the LCD. “Hello Syn-En. I’ve taken control of the ship’s com and tactical systems. If you don’t comply with my demands, I’ll use all the Syn-En life pods for target practice.”

 
     
    Terrorist: An individual or group that uses illegal methods,
    including fear and violence to obtain an end, usually at odds
    with the established order. Solution: immediate termination.
    — Syn-En Vade Mecum

 
     
    Chapter Three
     
     
    “What? Nothing to say? Did you even miss me, Admiral?” Burkina fixated on Bei’s face filling the square screen embedded in the cargo bay’s interior wall. Around her, wreckage from the fleet’s lost ships floated in the low gravity. The huge salvaged parts waited in a scorched metal and air