The First Sender

A Cry In The Dark

     "Hey dad, listen to this," the mental call of Chastity, their six year old daughter came from the SSF Owasso.
     "What dear? You know you should act like an adult while we are in space."
     "They can't hear me, they're all deaf," Chastity said in her usual childish disdain for any grown-up who couldn't do what she did. "They're all lamers," she finished with a mental giggle.
     "Chastity, you know I don't like that name," Barbet's stern voice entered the conversation. Furen could feel the restrained rebellion in his daughter and smiled to himself.
     "Yes mom. Marcus made the word up, not me."
     "Did not," Marcus joined in. Since it was a mental conversation they could all see that both Chastity and Marcus had made up the word together.
     "Hey, can you guys keep quiet so I can hear myself think!" Mark yelled until their minds reeled.
     "Sorry," a chorus of mental voices tried to speak simultaneously.
     "Want to hear, Dad?" Chastity finally got back to her original question.
     "Ok dear, but keep it short."
     They were suddenly treated to an absolutely astounding recording of "The William Tell Overture", in all it's glory, complete with one hundred instruments and in the very latest infinite 3-D stereo technology.
     "Hey, how did you do that?" Mark yelled mentally.
     "I remembered it."
     "You what?"
     "I just remembered it. Marcus told me he can't do that. Can you Uncle Mark?"
     "I don't know, I've never tried. Do it again."
     The background of mental babble from hundreds of talented minds stilled as Chastity began again.
     Furen listened closely. He could pick out each instrument and mentally follow the direction of the player. In fact, he could pick out the location of each of the hundred instruments. The recording was exactly the same as the first. He could feel the horn section stretched out to his right, the nearest felt close enough to touch.
     "I think she's come up with a new art form," Barbet said respectfully.
     "I recognize that recording," an unknown voice said. Furen tried to place the voice but didn't recognize it.
     "It's my brother, Reggie," Princess Artine said in a communication intended only for him.
     "I bought that recording myself only days ago, it's a brand new recording. It's the Santel Philharmonic Orchestra from Zane Seven. Notice how the sound goes up and down the line in the violin section? It's their trademark."
     "Yes, I hear it," Mark said.
     As the song ended, there were several minutes of complete silence.
     "Didn't you like it?" Chastity finally asked in hurt surprise.
     "Sweetheart it was the most wonderful thing I've ever heard," Furen finally managed to say. Since it was a telepathic communication it was impossible to lie, so Chastity was immensely satisfied. Furen tried to comprehend what type of mind could faithfully reproduce an entire 100 piece symphony orchestra. It would take an infallible memory, of course, but it would also take a talent to recognize each little combination of a thousand sounds and reproduce them in their exact order. Now that Chastity had planted the song in his mind, he might be able to reproduce it himself, but he could not have begun to mentally record it in the first place. Chastity clearly had a talent that he didn't have and couldn't even understand.
     "Chastity, where did you hear that song?" Mark finally asked.
     "Somebody was thinking about it and I listened in," she admitted slowly, afraid she had done something wrong.
     "We need to talk," Barbet said privately to Furen. He mentally nodded.
     As the immense fleet crawled toward the distant distress call, Chastity treated them to dozens of recordings. It was too bad the untalented couldn't hear the recordings as well, it might have dampened some of the raw fear that was grating on the talented nerves.
     On the SSF John Paul Jones, Mark, Princess Artine, and King Atiloid, her father, stood around the briefing table in Operational Command and watched carefully as the navigator plotted the hypothetical course of the distress call in the consciousness, as relayed by Mark and Princess Artine. He looked up and a pained expression crossed his face as tipped his head well back to look in the face the blonde amazon towering above him. The king was even taller than Princess Artine, possibly 9 feet tall, although nobody had the nerve to ask him. Height was a symbol of rank and power in the Amparis society.
     "That looks right to me," Princess Artine finally nodded.
     "My God, that's another three hundred lightyears," the captain said softly. That put's it in another galaxy."
     "How long would that take us?" Mark asked.
     "That? At least a month, possibly longer."
     "That's too long," King Atiloid said in concern. "Mark, you'd better move us."
     "I... Furen would be better than me, he's stronger and he's been doing this type of thing longer," he said without thinking. He heard Princess Artine's sharp intake of breath. As he looked up he saw the dark frown on the King's face. His father-in-law had little patience for people who disobeyed him. Mark decided this was his time to take a stand, to take charge of his own family.
     "I didn't tell Furen to move us, I told you," he said sternly.
     "No."
     "WHAT?"
     "We have several million people here in the fleet. Furen is more qualified than I am. I won't take chances with that many lives."
     "I commanded you..."
     "YOU DON'T COMMAND ME!" Mark roared. He took several breaths to quiet his nerves. He felt Princess Artines' hand slip into his own. It was shaking. "You either ask, or you keep your opinions to yourself, sire. You are not my king, you are my father-in-law. I value your opinion, but don't give commands," Mark said firmly.
     Mark thought for a moment that the king would hit him. Since he was nine feet tall and weighted more than 500 pounds, he knew he would die. But the king suddenly relaxed and nodded, with a slight smile on his lips.
     "I stand corrected. Do what is best."
     "Furen, did you catch any of that?" Mark asked mentally.
     "Everybody did," Furen said dramatically with a trace of humor in his mental voice. "I'll come over, since the King is so worried about the precious staff that he won't let it leave his presence."
     Furen appeared on the deck between Mark and the king. The king's humor returned when Furen stood staring at the King's knee until his senses returned, then tipped his body back to stare up at him. Furen shook his head in wonder and turned to the equally tall Princess Artine, accepting the staff. Furen had to stand on tiptoes to see the 3-dimensional display screen. He frowned at the screen and the fleet suddenly moved. There was mass disorientation for a moment, then everyone looked around in wonder. It was obvious even to the lowest crewman that the stars were radically different. They were now in a crowded area of space. A huge glowing nebula cloud filled the sky above them with all colors of the rainbow.
     Furen stared at the blinking light in the display, which showed their new location. Even with the staff it had been a draining task. He swayed on his feet for a minute until his strength returned.
     "We're here!" the Captain suddenly roared in horrified surprise. "Battle stations!"
     Furen handed the staff back to Princess Artine, bowed and disappeared. Bells and horns began creating a hellish uproar throughout the fleet. The fleet spread into a battle formation which reminded Furen of the hunter's formation on his own backwards planet. But this formation involved seventeen thousand huge ships.
     Furen took his seat on the bridge of the USS Gene Roddenberry, Earth's newest ship. The viewscreen on the new ship took up the entire front three walls of the bridge. Furen was facing forward, so he saw the tiny fighters erupting from the huge, lumbering carriers. Millions of smaller ships glinted in the light of the nebula and dense stars. Like oil spreading over water, the smaller ships flowed through the larger ships and spread out in growing rings of metal and mankind.
     Catamaran type cruisers suddenly split in two and the resulting smaller ships cut a path through the tiny fighters.
     "The fleet is ready, First Sender," Captain Gloria Hernandez said, turning to Furen.
     Furen silently communicated with the talents, then blinked and looked at the captain.
     "The talents are ready, Captain. Send Admiral Mulier my regards and tell him to proceed when ready."
     "Stand by," Furen mentally warned the talents. The fleet surged ahead. It was only a matter of minutes before alien spacecraft seemed to take notice and swarmed up off the nearest planets.
     Their plan was to turn back any aggressors, while Mark and Princess Artine traced the origin of the distress call with the staff and brought the being to the John Paul Jones. Then they could make war intelligently. As it was, they didn't know who was friend or foe.

     "What is your name?" Vitalan asked as he tried to tear a piece of fruit from a yellow rind with his teeth. The unknown fruit was imported by the Orts. It was tough, but edible.
     "You couldn't pronounce it," the Equasian laughed as he bit into the rind of his own fruit and spit the rind out on the ground. Vitalan paused to eye the razor-sharp teeth of the Equasian before he realized the Equasian had stopped to watch him.
     "Sorry," Vitalan went back to eating. "You have a real set of teeth there. So what is your name?"
     "Bruasqueeee carcar sptzzz," the Equasian sounded like he was screaming, then had something stuck in his throat. Vitalan didn't even try to copy it.
     "Don't even try," the Equasian said with a smile as if reading his mind, which was entirely possible, "there are 76 different variations of tone which make the same exact words gain a whole knew meaning.
     "Well I need to call you something."
     "Why?"
     "Because... well, just to get your attention or so you'll know I'm talking to you."
     "You don't need a name to talk TO me, only to talk ABOUT me. It you want to talk, tap me on the shoulder."
     "Well could I make up a...."
     "NO!" the Equasian said sharply, then raised a hand in apology. "I'm sorry, but you don't understand. I come from an ancient race, names are different for us. Have you ever heard the story about God's name?"
     "I don't think so."
     "You should, it originated on many planets, including Earth. The saying goes that if anyone discovers God's name they can get him to do their bidding. Now that's not exactly correct, as far as we know, but we have something similar. For us, a name is sacred. It signifies a personal relationship between the person speaking the name and the person owning that name. Speaking my name can bind me to you, I will be compelled to do your bidding, no matter what the task or favor. It's a deeply ingrained instinct involving the cast system which our society is based on. The instinct is so old as to be unbreakable, thus, it's very sacred to us. If I believed you could actually say my name I would have never revealed it to you, even under the pain of torture. We are not God's, but we play by some of the same ancient rules."
     "I don't really understand, but I'll respect your wishes. I... how long before we get out of this prison?"
     "I would say, about fifteen minutes, if my senses don't deceive me."
     "You're kidding," Vitalan said with a skeptical snort.
     "No," the Equasian said in all seriousness.
     "But how? Who?" Vitalan looked around the compound, then stared at the glass dome. He saw nothing.
     "The who, are some of your own species mainly, the how involves space travel and a long-lost artifact from the species I was telling you about, the ones who were defeated by the Orts millions of years ago. If you knew how many centuries we have been searching for that staff," the Equasian said with a smile and a shake of his head, "and now it's come to us as a savior."
     "I don't want to doubt you..." Vitalan began.
     "Good, then don't," the Equasian said with a hurried look over his head, "just take cover," he yelled as he ran for the wall. Vitalan followed, feeling his excitement.
     The glass dome crashed inward in a million sharp fragments. Raising a protective arm over their faces, they saw a ship descending through the dome. They also saw the blur of many strange fighter passing overhead. The dome was rocked by the sonic boom left by their passing. Vitalan held his hands over his ears and watched the ship land.
     "Come," the Equasian said and sprinted for the ship.
     "How do you know they are here for us?" Vitalan followed.
     "They told me," he yelled over his shoulder. The hatch opened as they arrived and they were met by a blonde human female nearly as tall as the Braaa. Vitalan eyed the huge, awesomely beautiful woman. The Equasian eyed what she was holding. He involuntarily reached for the staff in her hands and he was thrown back against the bulkhead with a crash.
     "Sorry, sorry," the Equasian said, holding up a hand with a smile. "It was involuntary, I didn't intend to take it."
     "Follow me," the blonde said with no change of expression. She turned her back on them and left. Vitalan and the Equasian collided at the hatch, trying to get through. The Equasian pushed ahead, keeping his eyes on the staff. Vitalan was worried. He didn't want the Equasian to mess up his chances at rescue. He needed his freedom and a ship, to find Desha.
     The Equasian cared nothing for his freedom, he cared only for the staff. His race had scattered across space each with one grand mission. To find the staff and return it to Equasia. He did not intend to fail, now that he was the only one of his race to see the staff in seventy million years. If he had to kill everyone on board to get the staff, he would do it without compulsion.
     "Prepare to launch," a loud voice called to the room at large. The Equasian shifted his eyes momentarily to the speaker, then noticed another set of eyes glaring at him. As he pushed lightly at the new mind, he was violently expelled. The force was so great that he was physically thrown back. He regained his footing and looked at the human in wonder. He had never felt such a powerful mind, and never expected to feel it in a human. The Equasian meekly took the offered seat. A restraining field strapped him in as the ship lifted into space.
     "The source of the distress call is now on board," Mark informed them in a dead voice that spoke of trouble.
     "What's wrong, Mark?" Furen asked.
     "One member of the rescued party is not human, he's a demon," Mark said in all seriousness.
     "A what?"
     "A demon. Remember, like in the bible?"
     "Well if he troubles you, put him back on the planet," Barbet said.
     "He hasn't done anything yet, but I know he intends too. He want's the staff. He wants the staff more than life itself."
     "Do you think he knew about the staff before?" Furen asked.
     "I don't know, but I think so. Artine believes he recognized it the moment he saw it. She said he grabbed for it. Could you two come over and... well look him over? My feelings may stem from a hereditary prejudice."
     "Of course," Barbet said instantly.
     Since every ship contained a large psychic power generator, the field encompassed the entire fleet. It was easy for Barbet and Furen to step from one ship to another, even though they were thousands of miles apart.
     "By your leave, Captain," Furen said with a bow, "I'm needed on the John Paul Jones."
     "By all means, First Sender. Just be back before trouble starts."
     "I promise," Furen said with a smile and waved as he vanished.

     Three Senders appeared on the John Paul Jones simultaneously, filling the little empty space on the bridge until sailors jumped back to make more room. Furen, Barbet, and to their astonishment, Chastity, appeared, reeling until their senses returned.
     "Chastity, what are you doing here?" Barbet asked in surprise.
     "I want to see the demon, mommy. I've never seen one. His minds works funny."
     "How would you know that?" she asked, too confused to put up a good argument against her daughter being there.
     "I heard him thinking. He's different, kind of scary, but kind of nice too. Can I see him?"
     "Chastity..." Barbet began sternly, then stopped, at a loss for words. She turned and looked at Furen for support. Furen smiled and steered both Barbet and Chastity out of the room towards Mark's mind.
     Mark gave them a relieve look as they entered the lounge. They recognized Vitalan immediately as being one of Mark's species. They were slightly awed and shocked to see the shorter dark being with the toothy smile and pointed ears. He stood with a perpetual smile on his face. It made them uncomfortable, as if the smile was a prelude to having them for dinner. Furen's first impression was that the smile hid a deceptive mind, then he shook off this unreasonable feeling, knowing it was a product of heredity. The shape of the jaw formed the permanent smile which unsettled so many people.
     "Hi, I'm Furen the First Sender," Furen said to the alien.
     "You could never..."
     "His name is Bruasqueeee carcar sptzzz," Chastity said without hesitation. Furen picked out the important tonal qualities and accents from Chastity's mind and reproduced them impeccably.
     "Bruasqueeee carcar sptzzz, it is a pleasure to meet you," Furen said, extending his hand in a human gesture of greeting. The Equasian's alarmed glance went from Chastity to Furen, then he reluctantly took the hand and shook it. He let go as if it had bit him. There was a sour look on his face.
     "I didn't know you could speak Equasian," he said bitterly.
     "Chastity is special," Furen said, without realizing the significance of the conversation. "There are some crewmembers who have apprehension about your visit. I hope you intend no harm," Furen said with a friendly smile.
     "Of course not, if you insist," the Equasian said uncomfortably.
     "I do. We trust you and hope you can help us in the coming battle."
     "In that case I am bound to be trustworthy and I will do all I can," the Equasian promised in a dead tone.
     "Good. Now, can you tell us anything about the invaders out there?"
     "I can tell you everything," the Equasian said bitterly and began relating all he knew.
     Seventeen waves, made up of nearly a hundred fighters, three cruisers, and nine carriers, began sweeping the enemy from the Receties system. Marines, shock troops, and government malitia from dozens of solar systems began cleansing the enemy from the surface of each planet. But as Bruasqueeee carcar sptzzz had said, they had millions of solar systems to go. With the help of the talents, and the staff, the battle was childishly easy for the human contingent. Bruasqueeee carcar sptzzz tried to warn them that the Ort would mass a counter-attack, but their overconfidence was almost their undoing.
     First Pilot Daria Neele swept down over the surface of Receties, following an Ort ship almost to the ground, before she mentally ordered her ship to launch missiles. Two missiles dropped from wing bays of her fighter and blurred through the Ort ship, belatedly exploding as they were exiting the front of the ship. One problem with their fight was that the missiles were designed for heavily-armored ships, while the Ort ships had barely any substance at all.
     She pulled up and shot through the flames of the explosion. Her tiny fighter rocked momentarily until she was clear. In a moment she was flying over a city. She looked down at the burning buildings and running people in the streets. She shook her head and sighed. The Ort's were not vanquished yet.
     Putting the fighter in a tight turn she sped over a large main street and mentally targeted each orange Ort uniform she saw. Her particle cannons chattered in the cool morning air and the orange uniforms exploded, one after another, until the streets were clear. She turned and overflew the city again, but saw no more orange uniforms or squat bodies. Rocking her wings slightly she sped up and out of the atmosphere.
     Desha was backed against a plasitcrete wall awaiting death with dozens of other Recentians. The Orts were lined up with weapons trained, ready for a firing squad. With a roar, a fighter approached and the Ort's literally exploded before their eyes. Desha was one of many who rushed forward and grabbed the abandoned weapons from dead Ort hands. She swung the weapon around and shot any Ort in sight. In seconds, before the fighter returned, the city was free of the enemy. Desha waved the rifle over her head at the passing fighter. The fighter rocked in return and plunged upwards and out of sight.
     Desha looked around for a friendly face, but saw nobody. She sprinted ahead, then felt herself grabbed by an invisible force. She screamed as the world around her melted.
     With his eyes on Vitalan's descriptive image on the viewscreen, Mark strained to match the face he saw on the screen, with those blurred faces he felt in his mind. He suddenly found a match and mentally clamped onto that mind and lifted her up and off the planet. She appeared before them screaming at the top of her lungs, until the disorientation made her stop and stumble forward. She was still running and plunged into Bruasqueeee carcar sptzzz, sending him flying back against a console.
     Vitalan rushed forward to help her. With horrified eyes on the Equasian, she fought Vitalan's hands, until he spoke quietly in her ear. She gasped and turned, throwing herself into his arms and dropping the Ort rifle on the deck with a clatter.

     First Pilot Daria Neele watched the fleet receding behind her in the scanner screen. She didn't like crowds, and the area near the fleet was much too crowded. She moved around on the seat uncomfortably, until she knew she could put it off no longer. She hated using the tiny bathrooms on the fighters, they were much too small and uncomfortable. She only used one in emergencies. But being on patrol for ten hours straight made it a dire emergency.
     "Ship, take over control, I must relieve myself," she said absently and watched until the ship switched to automatic control. With a reluctant groan she crawled out of the seat and squeezed through the two-foot crawlspace to the utility area behind the cockpit. She unzipped her full-length suit and dropped it around her ankles. She was just about to sit on the tiny toilet when alarms went off. Her eyes widened as she looked through the crawlspace at the viewscreen and saw a moving wall of metal. Fire lanced out from a dozen locations and before she could take another breath, she and her tiny ship were vaporized.
     "I'm getting a massive reading, Captain."
     Furen looked up at the young ensign on the Weapons console. His screen was covered with white lights.
     "How many, Weapons?" Captain Hernandez asked.
     "First wave appears to be less than a million ships, Captain, but the second wave is a solid mass of ships. Billions," the Weapons Officer said, swallowing.
     "Oh Lord, what a day this is turning out to be," she said quietly, then turned on Furen. "Can we handle that many, Sender?"
     "No ma'am, not even close. Our weapons reserves are not enough to handle the first wave, much less the entire enemy fleet. Talent alone can't do much without missiles to toss around."
     "Our fighters are already engaging," Weapons interrupted. "They don't have a chance."
     "The talents are bombarding the enemy fleet with missiles," Furen said as he mentally followed the battle. Everyone, including Chastity, was tossing missiles as fast as the cruisers could fire them. But at their current rate, the cruisers would be out of missiles within an hour.
     "It's like throwing a handful of sand at a grassy field and expecting to destroy the field. They have no chance at all," Furen said, shaking his head to clear it.
     "We have no choice. I'll recommend to Admiral Mulier that we turn and run. We can resupply and fight them again later."
     "These people will be destroyed," somebody spoke on the bridge, Furen couldn't tell who.
     "We can't fight them," the Captain said resolutely, so we have no choice. We can't die for them and leave our own galaxy unprotected."
     "Furen, the demon say's there might be a way to fight them," Mark interrupted.
     "How?" Furen asked, holding up a hand to stop the Captain's questions.
     "Something about the Amparis Staff's ability to seek things out. I'm not sure what he's talking about, but I think it has something to do with how that Trezepelian found us with it. He says to remind you that he's cooperating. Can you talk to him?"
     "Captain, there might be a way to fight them. I have to go to the John Paul Jones immediately."
     "But you can't leave us..."
     "Sorry," Furen said and disappeared.
     The human fighters attacked the first wave of Ort's. They broke formation to make smaller targets, but few got through. For every ten fighters who attacked the first wave, only one made it to fire a weapon. The others were destroyed by dozens of particle beams. The tenth fighter would be destroyed before it could retreat. Nobody survived an attack on the Ort fleet.
     Admiral Mulier watched from the bridge of the USS Lexitor. With a groan he watched his forces being destroyed, and the unrelenting wave of Ort's continued to approach unimpeded.
     "Captain Wilson, recall all fighter and order the cruisers and talents to stand off and fire well outside of their weapons range. We can't stop them, but maybe we can buy some time. And get that First Sender over here, now! It's time that little midget earned his keep."
     With a disbelieving look, Captain Wilson followed the Admiral's orders.
     "The staff has many powers, including empathy," the Equasian said earnestly, trying to make Furen understand.
     "I'm sure it does, but how can we use that to fight the Ort's?"
     "Find something that is uniquely theirs, something that only they use. Focus your mind on that object and unleash the power of the staff," he said looking around to see if they understood him.
     "Can you do it?" Furen asked hopefully.
     "Me? No, I don't have the power. The top descian... the strongest minds of my race could do it, but I am only a searcher. My powers are limited and they only consist of communication. Our society is based on the cast system, each cast is called a descian. I am among the lowest."
     "Great," Mark said sarcastically.
     "They could never get here in time," the Equasian said regretfully, despite his perpetual smile. "The task falls to you."
     "I thought demons were supposed to be powerful," Mark said resentfully.
     "Demons? Yes, some of us were called by that name. We visited Earth many centuries ago, searching for the staff. Some of my people chose to stay there, I believe. I suppose some of them could have been from an upper descian. Do you know if they are still there?" the Equasian asked hopefully.
     "I don't think so," Mark looked at the Equasian suspiciously.
     "Then you must do it," he turned to Furen.
     "I would, but I don't understand what you mean. I hear your words, but..."
     "I understand, father," Chastity's voice filled Furen's head.
     "You do?"
     "Sure, he makes real clear pictures in his head. Can I help?"
     "No you can't!" Barbet's scream mentally deafened them.
     "But daddy needs my help."
     "Yes, daddy needs her help," Furen teased. Barbet suddenly appeared before him. He reached out and steadied her while her senses returned. Her appearance must have been interpreted as permission to come, so Chastity suddenly appeared, falling against Mark.
     Mark bent down and cradled Chastity's tiny body in the crook of his arm until she could stand on her own. She smiled brightly at Mark, then looked sheepishly at her stern mother.
     "I came, mommy."
     "I can see that. So what did you want to say?"
     "I can't explain it but I can do it."
     "Do... Furen," she turned helplessly. He shrugged and bent to pick up his daughter.
     "Try to explain, Chastity."
     "You take the staff and feel something that the bad people own, like you feel important things. You know, like when you hate somebody or you like something real much, like mommy or Christmas? You just have to want something real bad?"
     "I guess I understand, a little. So what do we use that only the Ort's have?" Furen asked the Equasian over Chastity's shoulder. She turned her little body to look at the Equasian and gave him a big smile.
     "A metal, or a power source would be best."
     "We know nothing about their power source," an officer interrupted, "but the metal in their ships is much the same as our own. The only difference is that their ships are composed of a metal foam. It's very light. Would that help?"
     "No," the Equasian shook his head.
     "I brought a rifle with me, it belonged to the Ort's, Desha said meekly from the back of the room.
     "Yes, that might work," the Equasian swung around. Desha shrank back at his sudden interest. "Where is it?"
     "I don't know. I dropped it, remember?"
     "They looked around the floor, but the rifle was gone."
     One of the officers made a ship-wide broadcast, demanding that the rifle be returned. There was no response.
     "I believe one of the crewmen picked it up for a souvenir," an officer finally admitted. We may never find it."
     "There must be weapons down on the planet," Desha said desperately.
     "It will take too long to find one," Mark said.
     King Atiloid and Princess Artine nodded in agreement from beside him. The fleet was getting desperately close. They could feel the desperation from the talented minds fighting the Ort fleet. It was so strong as to be almost a visible force in the air and it had all the talents in the room on edge.
     "I can find the rifle," Chastity said to their surprise.
     "How, sweetheart?"
     "I can listen to it like I listen to people," she said brightly and squirmed to get down. Furen reluctantly put her on the floor and she ran out of the room. Most of those present followed her out and down the passageway. She didn't run far before she pulled up short at a door and pointed at it.
     "Isn't that your cabin?" a senior officer asked the previous speaker who believed that one of the crewmen took the rifle.
     "Yes sir," he finally admitted and palmed the door open. The rifle was in the locker under his bunk.
     They hurried back to the operational control room.
     "We will speak of this rifle later," the senior officer said to the young lieutenant.
     "Yes sir," he said resentfully as he eyed Chastity.
     "Take the rifle and the staff," the Equasian hurried Furen over to Princess Artine. "Quickly. You must strike while they are outside of the solar system."
     "But Bruasqueeee carcar sptzzz, I can't feel anything from the rifle."
     "Turn it on, daddy."
     "Yes," the Equasian said and rushed over to press a stud on the side of the rifle. "There, can you feel it now?"
     "I can, it's like a glow. It has a flavor, a psychic color to it."
     "Good, good. Now use the staff and find that same color among the enemy forces. Use the staff's power to enhance that color a hundred times. Build that color until it explodes."
     "What about this rifle, and those on the planet?" Barbet asked, pointing at the rifle in Furen's hands."
     "He's been trained to direct his energy, he can visualize his destination and selectively destroy only the enemy, just as he visualizes and sends packages around the universe."
     "I can do it," Furen said in a trance-like state. "The staff furnishes power and knowledge. It recognizes this enemy. It has fought this enemy before," Furen continued, totally unaware of those in the room. He was filling up with power much like he had filled up with power in his first clearing, his very first assignment as the Eastern Sender. But now he was bigger, stronger than ever before. Those watching saw the glow around him. He appeared to grow before their very eyes.
     The Equasian bent with his face almost touching the top of Furen's head. He was sharing his feelings. With the enhanced power of the staff, it was easy.
     "Yes," the Equasian hissed. "You can see them now. Touch their power. That's it. Fill it, fill it until it bursts," he whispered in a grating sigh.
     "Now, Furen, now!" he yelled and stepped back. Furen's face became strained. Those watching the screens saw what was happening more clearly. The enemy wall began exploding with great force, not all at once, but as if somebody was shining a huge flashlight at them and taking out a circle of ships wherever it shined. The explosions went from one end to the other and back again until not one ship was left.
     Furen suddenly gasped and collapsed. The Equasian quickly leaped forward grabbing Furen with one hand, and the precious staff with the other. He stood looking at the staff hungrily, then his eyes clouded over and he looked up, extending the staff to Mark. When Mark took the staff, the Equasian picked up Furen in his arms and carried him out. The senior officer hurried to direct him to a nearby cabin. Furen was already asleep.
     Furen awoke, hungry and alone. He looked around the empty room in hurt surprise, then went to the hatch. It opened and he found Barbet sleeping in a chair outside the door. She sensed him or heard the door open. Her eyes sprang open and she leaped into his arms.
     "Furen, I was so worried. That dreadful Equasian didn't tell us you could be harmed by such power until it was over. Are you all right? Can you still send?"
     "Sure, I'm fine," Furen answered mentally with a smile. "It didn't hurt me, in fact I feel even stronger now. But I'm starving."
     "You've slept for 13 hours. Come on, we eat down here," she grabbed his hand and pulled him along the passageway.
     "So what's happening?"
     "Sent our entire fleet back to our own galaxy. The fleet has broken up and everyone is going home. Most of our people are on this ship."
     "The Equasian?"
     "He's here too. He said something about staying close to the Amparis Staff. He said if he can't take it home, then at least he can stay and protect it."
     "He's going to live at the Triston mansion?" Furen asked in surprised disbelief.
     "I guess so."
     "Lady Chastity will love that."
     "I bet she will," Barbet said in a conspirital tone. "Oh-oh, there's that terrible creature now," she looked ahead of them. Furen followed her glance and found Bruasqueeee carcar sptzzz and Chastity sitting at a table alone. Chastity was chatting away happily, stopping occasionally to emphasize a point with her fork in the air. The Equasian simply nodded as he ate. None of the crew had the nerve to sit near the Equasian. They still feared him, even after all his help.
     "Daddy!" Chastity screamed and leaped off the chair. The Equasian covered his huge, sensitive ears with clawed fingers. He liked Chastity, but she was very loud for such a tiny thing.
     "Did you hear?" Chastity asked in excitement as she leaped into Furen's arms and pointed at the Equasian.
     "Hear what, sweetheart?"
     "We're keeping Bruasqueeee carcar sptzzz, he's ours now."
     "We aren't keeping him, Chastity, he's just coming along."
     "Yes we are, we know his name," she insisted stubbornly.
     "Sweetheart..."
     "I'll explain later, dear," Barbet whispered. "Chastity is right, sort of."
     "She is?" Furen asked in surprise. He looked up at the Equasian, who gave him a pained expression and shrugged helplessly.
     "So you're coming with us, now that it's over?" Furen asked as he sat Chastity back in her chair.
     "I'm coming, but it's not over," the Equasian said. "It's far from over. If you take all the ships you destroyed yesterday and add a million times that many, that's how many are left to fight. You only destroyed those in the immediate area. More will come, eventually. You could fight them for a year and never destroy them all, even with the staff. They have been populating the universe for a hundred million years."
     "More... but..." Furen stopped, looking at Barbet. She shrugged.
     "When?" Furen finally asked.
     "Who knows? Possibly a year, or a hundred years. They will come, in our lifetime. This was just the beginning. But now we have time to prepare. Let's not waste it."
     "Have you told anyone else about this?" Furen asked.
     "No, I'm not bonded to anyone else, I'm bonded to you and young Chastity here. If you wish to tell them, that's your business," the Equasian said and resumed his eating.
     Furen started to eat as well, but he'd lost his appetite. When his family and friends found that he was finally awake, the messhall soon filled up with noisy, chattering people. The Equasian quickly departed before the noise drove him insane.
     Furen ate, watching him depart. He looked around at his friends, and his growing family, and decided not to tell them... yet. There was time for that later. Now it was time to celebrate their momentary victory.
     In a moment even he was distracted by Chastity's recording of "Cannon in D".
     The haunting melody filled the dark voids of space as the tiny remnants of the Savannah Space Fleet returned home.