“Alright, what works?” Lazar turned back to the dead viewscreen, paced across Operations. “We have no engines, no defenses, we’ve got two Coralate warships heading this way and not even so much as a small box of rocks to throw at them. Ideas, people!”

“Everything we have is fried!” Anderton slammed his fists against his console. “There’s nothing! We’re totally fucked!”

“Maybe if we...” Kerrigan chewed at the inside of his lip, sorted and pushed lines of code through his console’s holographic interface, shook his head. “Dammit, I don’t know... There’s got to be something I can do, some way...”

“I can probably get us sensors,” Harrison turned and glanced back at the Captain. “If we launch a series of probes, link them into a network and then reroute the datafeed through the comm, it should give us enough telemetry to get us into the asteroid field under sublight.” He glanced at Baker, let his eyes flick to Anderton.

“Finally, someone with an idea.” Lazar stepped across the deck to Harrison, hands coming to rest on the back of the younger officer’s chair. “What do you need? How long?”

“Not long.” Harrison looked up, met the Captain’s eyes. “I can do most of the coordination, programming and calibration work from here, but I’m going to need access to a steady comm channel from Baker.” He glanced over, caught the quick, affirmative nod from the Comm officer in response. “Once we get the probes out and linked up, I can feed the course corrections to Anderton directly. It’ll be a bit like the blind leading the blind with a tapping stick, but it’s going to be the best we can do without a stop in drydock for a complete sensor system overhaul.”

“Do it, then.” Lazar nodded. “I want to know as soon as possible what the status of those Warships is and if anything has changed with that mine we have sticking out of our side.”

“Already one step ahead of you, Captain.”

The faint edge of a smile caught Lazar’s lips. “That’s what I like to hear, Harrison.”

“I’m glad sir,” Came the smiling response as eyes riveted themselves to the console, already guiding eager fingers. “Because I’ve already got the code written and ready for use.” Fingers sorted through light-based algorithms, wove their way into a series of displays lit with blinking, holographic code. “I had the idea for something like this a while ago, and I archived the coding in the core data module, just in case.” He paused, smile spreading to a full on grin as his hands worked their way through quick command sequences. “Should only take a couple of seconds to check the file for errors and modify the parameters for existing conditions.”

“This something you did in your spare time?” Lazar asked.

“Something like that.” Harrison managed, tone quick and absent. Eyes stared sharply into the holographic console, followed isometric coding as teeth bit softly into tongue.

“You keep this up, you’ll be in line for a promotion, Lieutenant.” The Captain glanced idly at the dead viewscreen, one hand on the back of Harrison’s seat. Grinning, the young lieutenant pushed through a series of isometric lines, pieced, pulled and wove the code of fractal light together into a coherent whole. Progress bars lit up with neon colors, tracked across mote-lit air to blinking green completion.

“And... that should do it!” Harrison pulled in a quick, deep breath and tapped a holographic key, wove his fingers through a passcode sequence. “Uploading instructions to probes now.

Lazar nodded. “How long before we can expect to start receiving data?”

“Shouldn’t take more than a few seconds.” Harrison glanced back at him, keyed a final sequence, leaned back, stretched. “There– probes are away.” He glanced at Baker, got another quick nod. “We just need to give them enough time to arrange themselves into the preset network pattern and sync up with the comm,” He tapped through another sequence of isometric data. “They’re programmed to auto-orient, and...” He paused, moved and repositioned a series of lines of holographic code. “There it is.” Harrison cracked a triumphant grin. “Receiving telemetry.” He paused, wove fingers through another series of displays. “I’m getting a reading on the mine, Captain... looks like it hasn’t moved, no additional stress fractures on the point of impact or any kind of power-up readings.” He glanced back, eyes meeting the Captain’s in the pause. “Same minimal energy signature.”

“And the ships?”

“They’re...” Harrison cycled through displays, called up a series of datastreams that filtered themselves down to a handful of bare, broken lines of unsorted data. “They’re just sitting there, Captain.” The young lieutenant threaded fingers through lines of fractal light, pushed and pulled at bits of information, coding. “They’re still moving, but they’re coming in so slow that...” Harrison’s brows knit. Fingers hunted through telemetry, darted after illusive answers. “This is weird. Real weird.”

Lazar leaned in. “Define weird.”

“Well, I’m not picking up any fighters or charged weapons signatures.” He glanced back at the Captain. “I’m picking up a few radiometric data bounces here and there... looks like they’re checking us out pretty closely, but nothing aggressive.”

“How close are they?”

“Five hundred meters and closing.” Harrison swore under his breath. “Jesus, hell of an inspection. If they were moving any faster, I’d swear they were trying to ram us as close as they are, but...”

“But why kamikaze a ship that’s totally defenseless with a pair of warships that hardly have a scratch on them?” Lazar shook his head, pushed a tense breath through his nose. “No, something else is going on here.”

Anderton glanced across at Harrison, let his eyes flick to meet the Captain’s. “You think it might have something to do with the mine we hit?”

“I think it has everything to do with the mine we hit, but I’m not a Cygnan. I don’t think the way anyone in the Coralate does.” Lazar let his eyes wander back to the dead viewscreen. “God only knows what’s going through their alien minds right now.”

“Do you think...” Baker trailed off, her face ashen, eyes lit with the traces of a building anxiety, fear. “Do you think they might be preparing to board us?”

Lazar blinked, hesitated a moment before his voice would work again, before he could shake his head and put words to thoughts that came almost in the hope that Baker’s fear, the fear that secretly tugged at the hearts of every officer in Operations the instant the comm officer had voiced it, would not come to pass.

“No.” Lazar managed. “There haven’t been any reports of...” He paused, swallowed, forced himself to tear his eyes away from the viewscreen. “I’ve never heard of the Coralate boarding a Commonwealth ship. They– they aren’t interested in our technology or... anything else.”

Baker nodded numbly, and even as she turned back to her console, even as she tried to lose herself in the relentless flow of data that pushed its way through, tried to forget her fears in the strings of noise and voice that mixed and stirred there, she could not shake the feeling, the worry, the fear. Rising up from the back of Harrison’s chair, Lazar shifted uneasily.

“Put us on standby mode. Condition Orange.” He paused, ignored the sudden glances, the way faces began to pale at the edges, falling a little to worry at his words. “Advise everyone to carry their issue sidearm, just in case.”

“Just in case.” Harrison repeated.

“It’s not going to happen.” Lazar all but breathed. “They’re just going to take a look, and then they’re going to go on their merry way, or...”

Harrison looked up, eyes rising at the same moment that Baker glanced over, the same moment that Anderton closed his eyes in worried resignation. “Or... what?”

“Or...” Lazar looked away, shook his head. “Nothing. We run.” He glanced at Anderton. “Can we run? How far is the field?”

“Too far.” Anderton said flatly. “In our current condition, we could take one hit from ship to ship weaponry, maybe two.” He shook his head. “Even at maximum thrust, the blueskins could still hit us five or six times each before we could even reach the perimeter of the field.”

“Something different, then.” Lazar gestured, found himself staring blankly at the dead viewscreen again. “Cut power to all non-essential systems. Everything except the sublight and life support. Do it slow, so it looks like a series of system failures. Make it look like we’re dead in the water.”

“Sir.” Came the quick affirmative. Fingers went to work, tapped through holographic data, sorted coding into packets and wove the lines that moved steadily to sever the flow of power to systems throughout the ship.

“If they don’t buy it...” Lazar managed, closed his eyes. “If they’re here for more than just a look, if they start charging weapons, decide to finish us off...” He paused, swallowed.

“God help us all.”