When the power came back on and the network went live again, the entire ship lit up and roared to life so suddenly that casual conversations froze mid word. There was a quiver, a jolt in the deck plating as the drive shivered down to a full standstill, and then the sudden rush of activity as officers and crewmen frantically reactivated polyquid consoles, called up displays, radioed and checked in with other decks. Within seconds, Operations became the epicenter of activity, a busy flutter of officers sending and receiving telemetry from hundreds of other officers scattered elsewhere about the ship. A final survey relief effort was coordinated, programmed and sent as fingers went to work calling up other fragments of data, running other sweeps and scans, trying to piece together what had gone so wrong on such a massive scale. Thirty seconds later, the door parted to admit the Captain, and as he stepped into Operations and assumed his role as ranking officer, Lazar came alive like a part of the interstellar clockwork, immediately belted out his first command: “Report!”

“Uh, all systems online, green on this end.” Harrison was the first to respond. A glance, a not-so-subtle look kicked Anderton into gear, made his fingers weave through holographic data that much faster.

“Drive is functioning at nominal efficiency.” He managed. “I, uh– it looks like there’s a record in the backup buffer of a buildup in the core, but I’m not reading anything now.” He turned to glance back at the captain. “We’re good to fly again at any time.”

“Baker?” Lazar turned his gaze to the comm officer, her busy fingers cycling through channel after channel in rapid succession, reading electrostatic code in quick blips that only her subdermal receiver could translate into the language of thoughts and words.

“All teams have reported in except five and seventeen, but I’m reading their locators in Medical.” She swallowed, turned to look back at him. “I’m getting readings of heavy casualties from all decks.”

“How about weapons?”

“All systems green, weapons ready to charge and fire on your command.” Kerrigan grinned from behind his console. “No damage to any of the combat or tactical systems, Captain.”

“Any word yet on what went wrong?” Lazar asked, eyes flicking to the viewscreen.

“I’m still running an algorithm through the reports, but it looks like we hit something, sir.” Harrison turned back to the Captain, shrugged. “We should know more soon, but right now most of what I have is data on some of the surges that were recorded at the moment of impact in places like the decks devoted to the fighter bays.” He paused, turned back to tab through another string of holographic data. “Looks like we lost two fighters– reports say Recon units, Glars and Hogue, Horus Squadron.” He glanced back at Lazar. “Melted them right down into slag.”

“You said we hit something?” Lazar asked. “How could that be possible? When we bend space, the bend is supposed to happen in such a way that insures a clear course.” He paused, glance flicking to Anderton. “Did something go wrong with our navigational computer?”

“No sir.” Anderton shook his head resolutely. “That was the first thing I checked. Every piece between here and the drive checks out.” He glanced at Harrison. “If we hit something, then it must have been because it was drawn into our path somehow,” He shook his head “In some way and fast enough that the computer couldn’t have compensated for...” He paused, “But even then, I don’t see how...”

“Captain, I think you’re going to want to have a look at this.” Harrison broke in, glancing back at Lazar. The Captain met his eyes, nodded once, firmly.

“Put it up.”

Harrison’s fingers hunted through strings of holographic data, sorted, pecked, pulled and reshuffled. An instant later, the viewer flickered, the vista of stars replaced by scarred sections of warship hull, miles of burnt and blasted metal chewed into furrows by ship-to-ship weaponry. Amidst it all, something comparatively small, something that had to be no bigger than a city bus glittered with an offcolor light.

“What are we looking at, Lieutenant?”

“Port side, aft quarter,” Harrison glanced back at the tapestry of holographic data weaving itself into isometric patterns over his console. “Damn, thing’s awfully small for how much energy it released when we hit it. Magnifying.” Fingers chose a thread of data, gently pulled. An instant later the screen flickered, filled with the image of a burnt out chrome husk, a studded sphere slowly leaking shattered bits of liquid silver into the haze of the stars. Lazar stepped forward, stared.

“What in the hell is that?”

“I don’t know, sir.” Harrison shook his head. “There’s no record of anything like this in the ship’s database, and it’s definitely registering a Coralate energy signature.” He glanced back at the captain, met his eyes. “According to the backup logs I was able to recover, the amount of energy this thing put off when it hit us was off the scale. It’s no wonder the impact blew out every system on the ship.”

“So it’s a mine.” Lazar said, features darkening. “Some new weapon the Coralate decided to test and we just happened to be the first ship to volunteer for the job.” He turned, eyes catching the Comm officer’s. “Baker, see if you can track down a team of technicians and a ERV that hasn’t been fried by our encounter with this thing. If the Corolate has discovered a way to make and implement mines that knock Commonwealth vessels out of bent space as easily as this one did, the scientists back home are going to want to see the technology up close and personal before things start getting out of hand out here.”

“Sir.” Came the quick, affirmative response.

“Uh, sir” Harrison broke in suddenly, glancing back to meet Lazar’s eyes. “We’ve got another problem.”

“Talk to me, Harrison.” The Captain stepped up, rested a hand on the Lieutenant’s shoulders. An instant later the screen flickered, filled with a patchwork of mottled darkness and light– silver light. Lazar blinked, breath freezing in his lungs as sudden realization hit him at full force.

Among the stars, a cloud of Coralate fighters hung like a nest of eager spiders, the twin silver warships beyond them slowly, steadily moving in for the kill. Lazar swore under his breath, turned back to pace back across Operations again. An instant later, he turned, stared into the chrome face of approaching death as it lay speckled across the viewscreen, and breathed a tired sigh.

“Kerrigan, I want all ship-to-ship weaponry charged and ready for bear as soon as we’re in range.” He gestured, got a quick nod in response. “Anderton, back us off a little bit, see if there is anywhere nearby we can run to without bending space just yet. I don’t want to lose that mine if we don’t have to, and we don’t know what the stresses of bent space will do to it, or even that it won’t reactivate the second we jump out of here.” Another nod, another set of hands going immediately to work. “Harrison, coordinate with Baker. I want all the fighters we have out there and ready to engage the enemy as soon as possible.” He paused, swallowed. “We’re going to be in for a hell of a fight.”

“Oh, and Baker,” He gestured, caught her eyes one last time. “Find the Admiral.”