“Meat belongs to the mighty.” First sentence of the Sharanttan 'Manifest Glory'.

Sam stood behind the railing that encircled his bridge. He folded his arms and studied the image on the screen. He called for the lower right limb of Merlin to be magnified; what he suspected was there. It was the tell-tale waver of cloaked ships. Three lead ships of the Sharantta remained visible as the armada moved away from the limb. Alien chatter came through the speakers.

Navigation called to the Captain. “They are tracking a Consortium fleet of eleven Light Crusaders and one science vehicle.”

“That would be the Thornburg,” answered Sam. “Cloak and run silent. Get close.”

Alarie stood on the bridge of the Crusader Class Piscium with Admiral Oe D'Lamre. The Terran native was slim, tall, and aloof; he stroked his salt and pepper goatee as they watched the advance of three Sharantta vessels.

Alarie gave his order. “Put up shields, fire a warning shot. I'll reposition to the Thornburg.”

When the door closed behind the Brigadier, Admiral D'Lamre turned and said to no one in particular, “How that man became Brigadier is beyond my comprehension.” He commanded his bridge. “Wings open. Fire one burst at half emission.”

The Co'Hwaul was close, with a view of the Consortium fleet and the three visible ships of the Sharantta. The Consortium fleet had adopted a Rigil-3 formation with the largest ship in the lead. The front end of a Light Crusader, with its lateral wings, gave the bow a shape like a spade. The housed N. I. Es came online.

Sam watched the Crusader on the right side of his bridge screen open its wings and send the Consortium's signature warning shot. The bridge was silent as all hands watched the shot span the interim and move beyond the three ships. In common tactics, those fired upon hailed the firing ship, but the Sharantta were beyond one's ken. The alien armada gave an immediate response. White bolts from the three lead ships and more than a dozen cloaked ships spanned the interim and struck the Crusader.

Sam watched the Crusader list and vent atmosphere. Then, Consortium Ships moved into a protective formation abreast the damaged ship. No more shots were fired.

Sam said, “Put me behind the Thornburg.”

On the bridge of the Thornburg, Lurie turned to address Brigadier Alarie. “Sir. The Piscium is disabled. There is an audio hail from the Sharantta.”

“Bring it up,” said Xander.

A scratchy voice filled the bridge. “Meat. You a'e outgunned. Su''ender and be boa'ded.”

Lurei commented. “Sir. I believe they are demanding our surrender.”

Xander jumped from the Captain's chair to exclaim, “Ludicrous!”

The scratchy voice said, “You have five minutes. We will annihilate.”

Xander's order was heard beyond the bridge. “End Transmission!”

Lurei said, “We have a hail from the Co'Hwaul.”

The King of Orlain appeared on screen and spoke Immediately. “You are outgunned. There are two dozen cloaked ships.”

Hair down, Heaven stood in the kitchen chopping vegetables. She had turned the heat on but still felt cold. She heard the twins banging the piano keys and laughing. Then, after a brief pause, there sprang up a sweet melody. Curious, Heaven wiped her hands and left the kitchen. As she entered the living room, she was surprised to see Ben playing the piano.

The twins made room as she stood behind Ben, unexpectedly pleased by his skill. As Ben's fingers worked the ivories, he came to a part where the melody sped up. It was enchanting. Ben stopped and turned to the twins.

“That's all I know,” he said. “Should I play it again? Do you think Heaven will like it?”

Heaven spoke from behind, causing Ben to turn awkwardly. “I like it. What's it called?”

Ben said, “I think it's called Waltz in C.”

Aggi commented. “He's pretty good. Right?”

Heaven looked into Ben's eyes. “Pretty good,” she admitted with a nod. “I didn't know you could play. You must have had a memory.”

Ben nodded. “It felt like I was playing for someone I loved.”

“Ooh!” exclaimed Aggi.

“Tell us more,” said Affe.

When Heaven asked her question, Ben looked from the twins to her, his expression that of a trapped rabbit. “Was it Elizabeth Elisabeth?”

Ben swallowed and stood; he faced Heaven and spoke as if he owed a confession. “No,” he said, slow and thoughtful. “ It was Theesana.”

“That's pretty,” said Aggi.

Heaven looked into Ben's eyes, and her silence made Ben feel guilty. The twins could feel the tension between Heaven and Ben. Aggi wrapped her arm in Affe's and pulled him away.

Ben continued. “I remembered translucent skin, the name, the waltz, and,” Ben paused, “warm breath.” His tone changed, and he spoke in a hopeful manner. “My memory's coming back. That's good. Right?”

Heaven spoke with a straight face. “Seems you were quite the Casanova.”

Ben blushed. He hurried to say, “I'm not that person anymore. I'm a new man.”

Heaven looked to the ceiling with a slow sigh. She looked back at Ben and said, “It's good your memory is returning, but if you remember any more girlfriends, I want to be the first to know.”

Ben immediately raised a hand in pledge and nodded vigorously. On the sofa, under open windows, Affe and Aggi shared a knowing smile. Heaven turned to them with a stern visage and spoke.

“Don't just sit there grinning like you know what's going on. Set the supper table. I'll tell you what's going on.” She took Ben by his arms and pushed him ahead of her. “You can help in the kitchen.”

Ben spoke over his shoulder. “Are we having spaghetti?”

Heaven smiled. “I'll let you stir. Think you can handle that?”

Alarie sat heavily in the Captain's chair. “What can we do?” he asked the King.

Sam walked down among his bridge stations and stopped between Navigation and Defense. He looked at the display of the Thornburg bridge and the Brigadier. He said, with a hand on the shoulder of his navigation officer, “I am taking a position between you and the enemy. I will deploy our shields to protect your fleet.”

Alarie stood with a thoughtful expression, his mouth open to speak. Such shield capabilities were beyond his imagination. Before he could speak, the King cut him off.

Said Sam, “I will destroy them, but such help is available only on your word as a representative of the Consortium.”

Navigation on both ships reported alien weapons discharge. The King's navigation reported, “The aliens are firing.”

“Hold,” said Sam.

On the bridge of the Thornburg, Xander had a clear view. A hundred white energy bolts sped toward them in a broad pattern meant to destroy the fleet. Suddenly, The King's ship phased into view, larger than the Consortium's standard dreadnought. Around the Co'Hwaul, bolts flared and dissipated. Alarie clenched his fists. Orlainese technology was decidedly superior.

On the bridge of the Co'Hwaul, Sam watched his screen turn white and slowly fade. “Hail the enemy,” commanded the King.

The display changed to a dimly lit bridge and a dark mottled alien face. Under spiky black hairs was a row of four eyes, centrally rudimentary and laterally independent. Below the central eyes. A proboscis coiled and uncoiled reflexively. Two lateral mouths like those of an arthropod spoke. “I am High Lead Zha Zheval.”

Sam responded, “I am Roval Caelaz Orlain, King of Orlain. Your weapons have failed your intent. I offer one choice. Recall immediately or be destroyed.”

The image of the alien head disappeared; the three visible alien ships came up. The Sharantta answered with a second volley of energy bolts and two dozen physical missiles. The Co'Hwaul's shield easily absorbed the impact.

“Now?” asked the defense officer.

“Now,” said Sam.

The Co'Hwaul's weapons came online. The screen switched to tactical, providing positions of all enemy ships. Weapons locked and fired. White hot blasts of raw destruction rained across the enemy with lethal accuracy. Sam watched the alien ships explode outward into fiery balls that quickly faded to black.

Defense reported, “One ship fled. All others destroyed.”

Sam spoke to the communication officer, his voice calm. “Bring up the Thornburg.”

Alarie had watched the destruction of the aliens with fascination and dread. The face of Orlain's King appeared on the screen, his visage stern. He spoke with a commanding voice that left no room for negotiation.

“Now, Brigadier,” said Sam. “We shall address the cost of your salvation.”

Alarie stood and faced his savior. Damn him! He would certainly ask too much. He would make his demand, and all the Generals would hear. Neither would his crew be in the dark. Whatever the cost, Alarie must redeem the lives of his fleet.

“Speak,” said Alarie. “I stand before you.”

Ben stood by the fireplace watching. Heaven and the twins were by the door, their conversation too low to be heard. When Heaven closed the door behind the twins, she turned and took a long sober look at Ben. Then she walked to the sofa and sat. She placed a hand beside herself on the sofa cushion.

“Come sit beside me,” she said to Ben.

Ben sat on the sofa and turned to look at Heaven. He felt another lecture coming on, but there was no person in all the world he would rather be lectured by. Heaven's loose hair cascaded down over her shoulders, and Ben could not take his eyes away. Heaven was lovely.

Heaven held his full attention in her eyes as she spoke. “I've sent the twins on a little mission.”

“What are they doing?” asked Ben.

“Looking for another place to stay,” was Heaven's answer.

Ben blinked, confused. “What's wrong with here?”

Heaven said, “We can only stay here temporarily. The Sharantta won't stop, and we need to stay a step ahead of them.”

Ben looked away, his eyes sweeping over the comfortable living room. “It's really nice here,” said Ben, looking back into Heaven's deep gaze.

“I know,” said Heaven. “But, this is just one stop along the way.”

“Okay,” said Ben. “Anywhere's good if I'm with you.”

Heaven smiled. “Can it, Romeo. Of course, I'll be with you. We have a long rocky road ahead of us, with scary aliens around every turn.”

Ben smiled and sat straight. “I'll protect you,” said he.

Heaven laughed. “Alright. We'll face them side by side. How's that?”

Ben answered with an earnest nod. “I would like that very much.”

Heaven said, “We'll do it, then. Can you follow my lead?”

“As long as we're together,” said Ben, “Whatever it takes. I won't back down and I won't give up.”

Heaven cocked her head to one side and appraised Ben's eager expression. She asked, “Do you think there's something between us?”

Ben blushed and turned away. He looked down at his clasped hands and answered softly, “I don't know, but I'm hopeful.”

Heaven smiled. Ben's timid reply moved her. She reached out and placed her hands atop his. Ben looked up, and Heaven said, “Alright, hopeful. We can see where it goes.” Ben's smile sprang up like a joyful gale. He took Heaven's hands into his with a sudden exuberance.

His response was an excited exhalation. “Really?”

“Slow it down,” said Heaven with an amused smile. “One day at a time.” Ben nodded effusively.

Restraining her own smile, Heaven said, “Let's start with some ground rules. First, no smiling at strange women.” Ben's head bobbed eagerly. “Second, and this is important.” Heaven paused; Ben smiled and nodded. “Never. Never smile at strange women.”

Ben laughed and held up a hand in pledge. Heaven felt as if she was lost in Ben's exuberance. His joy seemed contagious. Was she moving too fast? No. She knew how to play her cards. She moved close to Ben, opened her arms, and took him into a generous hug.

A table had been set in Sam's private room onboard the Co'Hwaul. Sam stood by his chair and raised his glass. Across the table stood Brigadier Alarie, and to Sam's left stood General D'Lamre. They wore their uniforms and medals; they seemed very official, but small and beaten. Their dour expressions ran counterpoint to Sam's satisfied smile.

“Drink up, gentlemen,” said Sam. “I doubt you'll ever taste Orlainese whiskey again in your lives.”

Xander, looking like a caged animal, took his whiskey and downed it in one heroic gulp. The General took his glass up, pressing his thumb against the rim as he looked between the King of Orlain and the Brigadier.

“Just make your demand,” said Xander, his voice wound tight.

Seating himself, Sam said to his guests, “Sit. Try the steak. It's really good.”

The guests, looking at one another, settled grudgingly. They sat erect in their seats. Sam took a bite of steak and chewed while watching the two men take their forks in hand. The General suddenly looked up from the plate before him and spoke.

“Your Majesty,” said General D'Lamre. “Surely Orlain and the Consortium should come to an amicable agreement. Trade agreements with the Consortium have historically proven a benefit to indigenous peoples.”

Sam swallowed and spoke. “My interest, gentlemen, is not in trade with the Consortium. To be blunt, you have nothing I want.” He aimed his fork at their steaks and gave a congenial nod. He cut into his steak as he continued. “My demand,” he said, looking into the Brigadier's eyes, “is Pendragon and Merlin. No Consortium. Complete recall of all institutions and influence. My concern and my request is this little corner of humanity.”

D'Lamre stuttered, “But ...”

“You were outgunned,” said Sam, “by the superiority of the Sharantta. The Sharantta were outgunned by the superiority of Orlain. As the saying goes, to the victor go the spoils.” Sam took a large satisfying bite and chewed with relish. He spoke around the meat. “Think of it as a peace treaty. Pull out and I'll let you keep your ships and your dignity. Of course, I need that on synth.”

After grudgingly putting their signatures to the King's terms, the Brigadier and General were escorted from the ship. Sam stood and removed the napkin from his collar and wiped his lips. He smiled at the backs of Alarie and D'Lamre, two armed guards leading and two following. Then, he looked down at the synth documents, gathered them into his hands and walked to his wall safe.

When Sam turned back, a steward was clearing the table. Cadet Shi'nese entered with a box of cigars. “I thought you might like your usual Bejuon Black.”

Sam took a cigar and rolled it between finger and thumb. Shi'nese removed matches from the box and provided fire. Sam drew several times before inhaling. “I should be your personal assistant,” said Shi'nese.

Sam asked, “Why?” in a fragrant cloud of smoke. He noticed the perfect fit of her jumpsuit as she leaned over to place the box next to his reading chair.

“I've passed all my tests,” said Shi'nese, standing and placing her hands behind her back. “No one is better qualified.”

“Don't get ahead of yourself,” said Sam, looking away into private thoughts.

“Sir,” asked Shi'nese, “are you happy?”

“With the treaty, yes,” said Sam. “Not with Heaven. She is distant with me and close with my old friend. Heaven is unsettled, and that has me worried.”

Shi'nese folded her arms and shook her head. “She mistreats you, sir.”