13)

'I'm not sure what to do next,' Kurt shook his head. 'It's my father who has all the power, not me.'

He and Katija were again sitting in the communication room, as he started calling it. He had checked the satellite recording with any means at his disposal. Every time, the results turned out the same. The data was authentic. It had been the State that started this war, there was no doubt about it. After he recovered from the initial shock, Kurt started seriously considering his options. He didn't see many.

*You can try and convince him to abandon the attack plans and begin peace negotiations.*

'It won't work,' he smiled sadly at the alien woman. Once he sets his mind on something, there is no stopping him.'

*How about you told him we'd developed new technology and we're now capable of seriously damaging, if not destroying the State forces?*

'He's got enough spies to realize the truth, he won't believe me. In fact,' Kurt sighed heavily. 'After these last events, I don't even think he trusts me at all…'

Katija slipped down from her seat and came up to Kurt. She put her head on his knee, not unlike a dog waiting to be petted. One look into her large, blue eyes was enough to melt his heart. When he looked at her, he didn't see a dog-like alien. He still saw her beautiful, slender body in the silver catsuit.

*There must be a way,* she thought to him almost pleadingly. *you're our only hope.*

Kurt touched her head and caressed her smooth skin gently. She didn't seem to mind.

'I'll think of something,' he whispered. 'I promise.'

* * *

'Are you telling me you don't know where he is?! You lost him again!'

Chancellor Bovis was furious. Only years of experience in diplomacy stopped him from coming down on Wesley with full power.

'He left his shuttle and disappeared into the desert,' the senator in charge of the secret forces replied quietly, not even daring to raise his eyes. 'The Tarrans must have picked him up somewhere along the way. The Soldiers were able to track him down for a while but then… he was just gone. We didn't detect any vessels.'

'Find him!' Bovis snapped.

'Do you think me might be in any immediate danger?' Wesley found the courage to ask.

The Chancellor eyed him carefully.

'Yes,' he replied calmly. 'Yes, I think he is in great danger. He's obviously been captured by the enemy. Do you suspect otherwise?' He added after a pause. Wesley, if possible, paled even more.

'I…,' he staggered. It had been a false hope that he could outsmart his superior. This man was a Chancellor for a reason. He had been for the past decade. The longest reign in two hundred years of the State's history.

'That alien woman we killed,' he finally continued with a sigh. 'She did alter his memory. We managed to reverse the process but we can't be sure if there is no residual effect. The young senator might be able to remember his past but the whole experience may have changed his perspective.'

'I see,' the Chancellor said slowly. The men exchanged looks and it was clear they understood each other.

'Well, one way or another,' Bovis got up, ending the conversation. 'You've got to find him soon.'

'Yes, sir,' Wesley bowed and left the chamber deeply relieved. He had been treading on thin ice but once again he managed to survive. Not that Bovis would ever forget this moment of hesitation, that is, but at least for now, Patrick Wesley was able to retain his master's trust. That was all a man in his position could ever hope for.

* * *

Kurt was walking through the ruins with Katija duly at his side. With every step the glass cracked loudly under his boots. *The last sound of a dead civilization,* he thought somewhat pathetically.

*We're not all dead yet,* Katija replied. *We still have a chance if you help us.*

Kurt sighed, kicking something away from his path. He stopped and turned to see what it was. Then he stooped to pick it up. It was a broken toy. A silver starship. Kurt stared at it for a while.

'I've got an idea,' he said finally, handing the toy over to his companion. 'Can you patch me through to our communication systems?'

*What do you want to do?*

'I want to help you,' he smiled. 'Just trust me.'

14)

'There's no time to explain now,' Kurt said impatiently to the microphone. 'Just tell me, how many squadrons have you got under command?'

'Twenty. And I can get twenty more anytime,' the reply came through the invisible speakers.

'Good. Now, listen carefully. I'm sending you the coordinates. I want you to move all the forces you can gather in the exact time and place.' Kurt nodded to Katija, who was more familiar with the consoles and she pushed a few buttons. The computer confirmed data being sent and received.

'Kurt,' the voice in the speakers sounded concerned. 'What do you want to do?'

'I told you there's no time to explain. The code I'm using for this transmission may be broken any moment now. Just trust me, okay? All I want to do is to end this stupid war as soon as possible. I'm counting on you. Bovis out.'

He punched a button and the link was terminated. He wiped the sweat that had gathered over his eyebrows and smiled at Katija.

*Will he do what you asked?* She thought wearily to him.

'He will,' Kurt answered reassuringly. 'We have been closest friends for a very long time, both in peace and in battle. He owes me his life a dozen times over. And vice versa. I should have thought of him earlier but…'

*But what?* Katija didn't really have to ask. A mental image of a pretty complicated political and personal network was clear in Kurt's mind.

'David Wesley's career is at stake here,' he said quietly. 'I, of all the people, should know him. If making it involves betraying his own father, so be it. He knows he's not going to get a seat in the Council over his older brother's head. It is his only chance and he knows it. He won't let us down.'

Katija only shook her big head. Kurt smiled again.

'I hope that's enough. Now, if I give you the exact specifications, how many ships can you modify to generate electromagnetic resonance at this frequency?'

* * *

The fleet moved through space quietly. The State Military Forces. Hundreds of shuttles in squadron formation were sliding silently to reach their goal. A small nebula where the Terran forces had been gathering for their last stand.

'Anything on the detectors?' Senator Wesley was nervously pacing the bridge of the leading vessel.

'Negative, sir.' The helmsman replied promptly. 'We're not picking up any ships in the vicinity. The radiation from the nebula is obstructing our instruments.'

Patrick Wesley murmured something to himself. Commanding a ship into battle was not exactly his favorite part of the job. He'd very much prefer to be sitting in the safety of his own office, plotting another intrigue. He was good at that and he knew it.

'Keep looking!' He ordered finally.

'Aye, sir!'

* * *

'Are we ready yet?' Kurt walked up to an alien engineer, one of many working in the shipyards deep underground the ruined city. Timing was crucial and much as he admired the way the Tarrans organized their defenses in a matter of hours, he wished they had days to work.

'We'll have two squadrons with twenty ships each ready within the next half hour,' the Tarran replied, still busy with the equipment. 'We won't have time to test your modifications, though,' he added.

Kurt nodded, 'I know. It should work all right, trust me.'

The engineer turned his big head to look at the human. 'It's not a matter of trust,' he sighed. 'It's a matter of survival. Even with your help, we only have that many ships. I'm not sure it's enough to withstand your attack.'

'I know. We're going to have some additional help. We do have a chance,' he replied, disregarding the pronoun the alien had just used. It wasn't "his" attack anymore. These last few days have changed him more than he realized. Now his priority wasn't earning his seat in the Council anymore. Saving thousands of alien and human lives suddenly seemed more important.

* * *

'Anything yet?' Wesley was getting more and more impatient as they were nearing their target. He really wanted to get it over with and go back to the seclusion of his desk.

'Sir, additional twenty squadrons are reporting ready for battle!' The helmsman said, having checked his monitor. 'No sign of the Tarrans' forces yet,' he added.

'Twenty squadrons?' The senator was surprised. 'Who's in command?'

'David Wesley, sir,' came an unexpected reply. The senator smiled.

'Patch me through to the lead ship,' he ordered.

'Ready, sir.' The helmsman reported almost instantly. A young man with blond hair and brown eyes appeared on the main monitor. He bore a striking resemblance to the older senator. In fact, if it wasn't for Patrick Wesley's gray hair, the two looked virtually the same.

'Hello, son,' the senator grinned widely. 'I wasn't informed you were ordered here.'

The younger man nodded.

'That's because it was a last minute order, directly from the Chancellor,' he replied, well aware of the fact that Wesley could not verify it at the moment. Both fleets were way out of the communication range from any command post.

'Have you had any luck in tracking the Tarrans' forces?' He asked his father.

'Not yet,' the senator shook his head. 'I don't understand why they're hiding. They should go out in the open and surrender immediately. Surely they must realize they have no chance against us!'

The younger Wesley nodded. 'It would spare us some work,' he said trying to probe his options.

'Well,' the senator smiled. 'Since you're here too, we'll finish the job in half the time. Your ships will function as the executor forces. Take position at our left wing and we'll continue the search.'

'Aye, sir,' David Wesley replied officially, closing the channel. He felt his heart sink but quickly dismissed it. *I'm doing the right thing,* he told himself and proceeded to lead his formation along with his father's fleet.