The Lugh had been on detached service, the dream of every young Commander, for over three weeks. There had been no enemy contacts yet, but Sub-sector 210-Z1 looked hopeful, full as it was with dust clouds and minor bands of asteroids. Plenty of places for the snake-head traitors to try and hide. Now all he needed was a few snake-heads, and his legend could begin.

 

     "Commander," the ensign on Signals called out. "We have multiple contacts bearing 010, they appear to be hovering by the edge of the dust cloud straight ahead."

 

     Clausen moved back to his command chair and called up the Signals screen on his repeater. Sure enough, there were several contact markers floating just outside the return disturbance that marked the cloud of dust and debris that swirled slightly off the starboard bow. One of the contacts was obviously larger than the rest, but at this distance, and with the static of the debris to contend with, nothing else could be discerned for certain.

 

     "NavInt make a call yet?" Clausen looked up at his second-in-command, Lt. Commander Petrov. The tall woman's hands flew over her own controls, the screens before her flickering from report to report.

 

     "No, sir. Not enough info yet to call. Best guess is one capital ship and several smaller craft, possibly fighters, possibly in-system escorts."

 

     Clausen stared at his repeater for several moments, reviewing his options and what he knew about the sector. There had been multiple contacts with several different types of snake-heads recently. There had been clashes with the Mimbari, the Narn, even the dreaded Vorlons had made an appearance or two. It could be anyone, hovering out there in the dark. But chances were excellent it wasn't Earthforce, and that meant it wasn't friendly.

 

     "Nav., take us in at 3/4 power, tell 234 to tuck in close under our Starboard batteries, just in case." That way they'd be ready for anything, and the little cutter would at least benefit from the <script>><!-- D(["mb","\r\nLugh\'s defensive net, should things get . . . exciting.

 

     The two ships moved slowly towards the massive, towering cloud of sparkling dust. The returns continued to get stronger, and with each passing moment, as the distance between Clausen's command and the contact dwindled, NavInt refined its reports, and the repeater's information became more and more precise.

 

     "Sir," Petrov's strong voice called out over the hushed conversations of the bridge staff. "NavInt's made an initial call. They're saying it's a medium capital ship and several swarms of auxiliary craft. No race id yet."

 

     Clausen felt more confident now. There were no Earthforce carrier groups operating in this area. If someone was out there hiding fighters this far into deep space, it was definitely snake-heads.

 

     "Weapons, can we lock yet?" There was a shiver as he said the words, and a silent prayer that the ships hovering out in the dark weren't Minbari.

 

     "Sir," the Lieutenant in charge of the Weapons division looked up from his station. "We're getting intermediate lock, but nothing sure. 234 says she has a clear lock on some of the smaller craft, but once she fires, she'll be a sitting duck while her tubes are re-loaded."

 

     Clausen stared at his screens. It all came down to who it was out there and what they had. If he flushed all his tubes he could be in trouble if he didn't do enough damage and the foe had the speed and maneuverability to come out after him. On the other hand, the Lugh's broadsides packed even more punch than her chasers. If he just . . .

 

     "Vorlons, sir!" The report rang out from NavInt. "Could be a destroyer or light cruiser. And at least a full squadron of their fighters."

 

    A rush of excitement flooded through Clausen's mind. Vorlons! Those spooky, mightier-than-thou snake-heads were the worst of the whole lot. But even better, their larger capital ships couldn't maneuver worth a damn! The Commander saw his first victory burst into being in his mind's eye before he even began to speak. <script>><!-- D(["mb","

 

     "Weapons, lock onto the fighters. Tell 234 not to fire until we both have solutions. I want to wipe out the fighters in the first pass. As soon as all tubes have fired, I want full burn on heading 315, with the Tethy's crossing our trail and tucking into our port shadow."

 

     There was a great swirl of activity on the bridge as his orders were carried out. The crackle of reports from divisions throughout the ship was a soft counterpoint to the matter-of-fact speech patterns of the bridge crew. Clausen was not the only human on the Lugh suspicious of aliens. Earthforce had been bloodied in the Earth-Minbari war, and many of the snake-heads had been giving attitude about it ever since. Perhaps the reputation of the Earth Alliance military would begin its recovery here, in Sub-sector 210-Z1.

 

     The first salvo roared out from the Tethys cutter, massive drives flinging them towards the distant mass of the glittering cloud. Moments later the bow-chasers of the Lugh launched as well. Eight massive missiles tore through the night and exploded in nuclear fury against the misty backdrop of the dust. Entire squadrons of fighters were engulfed by the explosions, whose glaring light reflected off the eerie, tissue-like hull of the Vorlon ship.

 

     For a moment the rush of victory on the bridge of the Lugh was complete. All auxiliary contacts had been destroyed, and the capital contact had been positively identified as a destroyer, one of the smaller ships in the Vorlon armory. The Lugh began its ponderous turn to port, readying itself for a quick exit from the system, while 234 maneuvered easily behind its larger consort. Clausen's plan to bloody the Vorlons and escape unscathed seemed to be moving right on track.

 

     Until the Vorlon destroyer began to move.

 

     "Sir, capital contact is maneuvering! It's . . . sir, it's locking on!" There was no hint of panic in the disciplined voice. Still, everyone who heard it knew it was there. There should have been no way the enemy could have come about so quickly. <script>><!-- D(["mb","

 

     Clausen felt his stomach lurch for a moment, but his confidence did not waver.

 

     "All power to engines. Let's get out of here before that thing--"

 

     There was a harsh glare for a split second before all screens showing the port view shut down from over-exposure.

 

     "Sir!" Now, there was panic. "234 is gone!"

 

     Clausen's victory began to turn to ashes in his mouth. Lieutenant Glover, the captain of Cutter 234, had been a good friend of his. And now the Signals officer was saying . . what?

 

     "What?"

 

     "It's gone, sir! The Vorlon used some sort of energy weapon! It cut the cutter in half! She's just GONE!"

 

      A cold hand seemed to reach into Clausen's stomach. From what Fleet Intelligence had reported, the bigger Vorlon ships should never have been able to come about so quickly. Should never have been able to fire from that range, never mind . . .

 

     "What?"

 

     Lieutenant Commander Petrov looked up sharply from her station. "Sir, the Vorlon ship has ranged us. 234 is gone, and we're being lit up by the snake-head's targeting systems. If we don't do something, we're next."

 

     Clausen reached down and gripped the rail of the command dais, bowing his head a moment in thought. When he raised his eyes again, there was a wild gleam behind them, but the fear, for now, was gone.

 

     "Fire starboard broadside, all tubes. Ready aft tubes, and prep for hard burn. We'll make a run around the dust cloud and initiate a jump point. Command MUST know about the Vorlon presence."

 

    Again the bridge was a flurry of activity. The Lugh's impressive broadside crashed out, sending a wave of massive anti-ship missiles roaring into the void, seeker systems probing hungrily for their targets. When the aft view screens blacked out from the glare of nuclear detonation, a cheer went up from the crew, only to fade quickly as replacement screens came on line and showed the Vorlon monstrosity emerging from the inferno, trailing fire and atmosphere, but otherwise seemingly unscathed. <script>><!-- D(["mb","

 

     And thus began the longest day in Clausen's life. The Lugh executed one evasive evolution after another in an attempt to gain some distance on the Vorlon ship. It availed her nothing. Time after time the hellish beam ravened into her. After an hour half the Engineering compliment were casualties, dead or wounded where they stood at their stations. The cruiser was bleeding oxygen in long, blue streamers. Fires raged throughout her after-port compartments.  Each time she attempted to initiate a jump point, the Vorlon would force her onto a new heading, a talented hunting dog shepherding his prey.

 

     Two hours into the chase the bridge suffered an indirect hit. Clausen re-located to CnC, his arm in a plastic cast and compresses keeping the worst of the pain from massive burns to his face and chest at bay. There was no replacing his bridge crew however. Petrov was dead, killed when a support beam, sheared loose by the Vorlon beam, was sent crashing through the bridge like a giant arrow. Straight through the bridge, and straight through Lieutenant Commander Petrov as well.

 

     The rest of the chase was a blur to the young Commander. Somehow a small lead was gained on the beast that would not leave off the chase. Eventually all strategems were set aside and the Earth Alliance Ship Lugh fled for her life, straight as her fluctuating engines would allow.

 

     Four hours after Lieutenant Glover, late of the Tethys Cutter 234 ordered his missiles launched, the Vorlon destroyed relented, turning back to its station by the dust cloud.

 

     As the Lugh limped back to base, an angry and bitter Commander Clausen sat at a command and control console staring at the wavering image of an aft sensor array repeater plot. He stared into the grainey image long after the echo of the enemy ship had been eclipsed by the large mass of the cloud.

 

     He stared, and he vowed revenge. <script>><!-- D(["mb","