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- 1900 hours, cruising as before.

1900 hours,
cruising as before, so noted.

- Evening,

anything interesting?

- Just keeping an eye on our course.

Marcus has me as acting navigator

since we ended up shorthanded.

- How about young Royce,

how's he doing?

- Well enough.

You know, it's morning
back home right now.

- Homesick?

- Of course not,

- I do loathe children.

That bad?

- He needs some discipline
kicked into him.

But I'll admit,

it will be nice to have

a dedicated electronic warfare specialist

with us this time.

Conn, SepMOD.

- Conn, aye.

- Strobing contact bearing 040 by 022.

Distance approximately
2.5 million Ahrimans.

- ID?

It looked clean
until about 15 seconds ago.

Now I'm getting flashes
of a scrambled signal.

She looks to pass close at
present course and speed

about 1,100 Ahrimans off our
starboard side, high to low.

Mr. Barrows?

- Mr. Masterson?

- Shall we go to quarters?

- Well, that's the kind of
decision you were hired to make.

- Sir?

- Choice is yours.

Have it sounded or call
the captain and ask him.

- Abner, I'm the XO, I should really...

- No, you really shouldn't.

Give him a chance to earn his pay.

Conn SepMOD,

contact confirmed as blacklisted ship.

We have full legal authority
to destroy or seize.

Designating contact as 'Target One.'

- Time's wasting mister.

- Sound general quarters,

all hands to battle stations.

- Abner, he really should
have deferred to me

after all I am the executive
officer of this ship.

- Of course, you're absolutely right.

- Magazines manned and ready.

- Hydra One mount
reports manned and ready.

- Cobra mount reports manned and ready.

- Hydra Two manned and ready.

- Quad mount reports manned and ready.

- Hydra Twin mount
reports manned and ready.

- All guns manned and ready.

- What's happening?

Why are we at the quarters?

- New contact Captain,

high on the bow to starboard.

It's blacklisted.

- Why was I informed by
the alarms instead of you?

- I considered...

- Then why didn't you?

We'll talk about this later.

I have the Conn, threat board on one.

Combat condition,

sealing pressure doors.

- She'll pass right abeam of us.

- Couldn't ask for a better setup.

- SepMOD, distance to target.

Contact has closed distance

to 2 million Ahrimans.

Speed is constant at 200,000 APH.

- She's drifting.

Trying to sneak through undetected.

- Who generated the blacklist warrant?

The Arkwright family.

- The Arkwrights?

We're collecting bounties
for those beasts?

- Keep those thoughts to yourself.

If you need a reason this
means serious prize money.

- Maneuvering, Conn.

Bring the reactor to 100%.

Stand by to commence
flank speed operations.

- Max output, aye.

Reactors one and two, latch
the rods and lift to the stops.

- Aye, sir, latching and lifting.

- We could try pushing her a little bit.

- Not this time,

let's see how she handles
ordinary combat first.

- Helm, correct course and angle

to match the target.

And prepare to reverse.

- Aye, sir, adjusting course.

- Contact has closed distance
to 1.4 million Ahrimans.

Stand by... confirmed classification,

Bolton Class freighter.

Looks like she's even older than we are.

- Focus on your jobs, please.

Let's not have her getting away.

Target course matched.

- All back standard.

- Aye, sir, all back standard.

- Nice and smooth.

- Just like my dad's clipper.

- Burn up 20%.

Burn up 20%, aye.

Contact approaching steady.

- After this patrol,

you should come on another trip with us.

- Um...

Yeah, that sounds nice

but this freighter won't catch itself.

What's she doing?

She should be trying to evade us by now.

Captain, target
has increased speed

to 201,000 APH and is accelerating.

- She's gunning it, Marcus!

- All hands brace.

Flank reverse!

Don't call me by first
name in front of the men.

Captain, target
one is veering to starboard.

- Cut burn to 80%.

Full burn on port,

three quarters on starboard
bow tips for 15 seconds.

Comms, transmit a desist
order and identify us.

Cobra mount, prepare a
warning shot over her bow.

Chief, the threat board just went out.

- Recycling the input, sir.

Conn, Target
One is slowing down now.

Attention all passengers,

the new year has arrived!

The party is in full swing on C deck!

Where are you?

Get on down and join the celebration!

- What is that?

Who is playing that?

- I'm sorry Captain it's...

- What are you doing?

- It's part of an old system.

A virtual personality for tourists.

Her name's Claire,

some of our components
were purchased second hand

off of an old cruise liner.

- We encountered her
during the shakedown run.

Captain Timmons had all
of her code removed.

I don't see how she can
still be functioning.

Stars and garters,

have we got the event of a
lifetime lined up for you!

Captain, target slowing further.

- Shut her up.

- Marc... Captain I think
he's trying to back down

and run the other way.

- Shut her OFF!

Fire the warning shot!

- Cobra mount, fire!

No change in target course.

- All hands brace, reverse thrust.

All ahead one quarter.

Aye, sir.

- Mr. Saverin, please
prepare to disable her.

Fire at her with, uh,

I think half shots will do the trick.

- All guns target her forward engines.

Hydra One, load half shots.

- Comms, any acknowledgement yet?

- It's a little funny, Captain.

We may have just heard a channel open,

then close again, nothing further.

- Very well, disable
her please Mr Saverin.

- Hydra One, fire.

- Fire.

- Weapon missed, leading target.

Adjust to minus 4.

- Adjust and fire.

- Adjust and fire.

- Adjusting minus 4, firing!

- Hit, Captain.

- Confirmed, target's forward
engines appear to be disabled.

She's spinning free.

- Helm, cease forward thrust,

burn reverse at one quarter.

25 second burn,

bring us alongside,

we'll extend the MAG at 1,000 yards.

Call it out Foley.

Aye sir.

- Mr. Royce, can we open their doors

or do we have to do this
the old fashioned way?

- It should be easy sir.

They're shutting down
their communication systems

like they think I'm gonna
hack them through that.

They should be worried about the keyring.

- Do we have a key?

- I'm checking now, sir,
but it's gonna take a while.

- You don't have a while.

Helm, continue your approach.

Let's get into position.

This needs to be handled quickly.

1,000 yards.

Devil's distance captain.

- Deploy the MAG.

- Her rotation is slowing,

she's dragging us with her.

Five,

four,

three,

two,

one,

- synchro.

- Burn all tips to starboard.

Reel us in.

Extend the lock.

Prepare a boarding action and take charge.

- Aye, Captain.

All compartments prepare
for boarding action.

Mr. Merchov, assemble
your men at Airlock 4.

- Best of luck, Tom.

- You too... Marcus.

Target One is fighting the MAG.

- Royce, key?

- Yeah, I've got it!

For a second there,

I thought I'd have to magic one up...

- Are we ready to breach?

- Yes, sir.

- All right boys,

this is your first engagement.

Remember your training
and put it into practice.

Prepare to take your first trophies.

Taham tan zanam!

- Just stay where you are Mr. Hess,

we've got this in hand.

- The captain told me to take charge.

- It's a mop up, not worth your attention.

- I have my orders.

- Very well, sir.

Pressurizing the walkway!

Var Shaw!

They've
dispersed through the air lock.

Advancing towards the
bridge, Merchov commanding.

Hamlin's fire team moving aft.

Baldwin taking the crew quarters.

Hamlin reports engineering secured,

all hands in the space have surrendered.

No resistance encountered
yet, wait.

Be advised, Baldwin has
encountered token resistance

in the crew areas.

Hamlin moving to assist.

Nearing the bridge,

approaching with caution.

Anyone else see that...?

Resistance at the bridge, two men down!

Surrender!

Surrender...

One moment sir...

Ship secure
captain, she's ours.

- YEAH!

- That's one prize to us.

Link us up, we'll do a tandem brake.

Take a manifest.

I'll be up there shortly.

Well done, XO.

- Well done, XO.

- Foodstuffs, indeed!

He's got enough weapons
back there to take Brasilia.

Arms for the war on Perkunas, maybe?

- Doesn't matter.

These boys picked a fight
with the wrong oligarchs.

- Wouldn't it be something if
these weapons were legitimate?

I mean, I wouldn't put
it past the Arkwrights

to file a false claim.

- Odds are they're stolen.

They're from Hoplon Arms

and if you notice
somebody had a little fun

with the serial numbers.

- How do you know it's Hoplon?

- I almost bought from them

when we were outfitting our own marines.

Good value for money

but unfortunately their
Yankee founder won't have

any business with independent colonials.

- Your scholar's memory
serves us well, Captain.

- You should have seen him in school,

he could recite books from front to back.

- Captain, Arkwright
vessel "Peerless Diligence"

is alongside requesting clearance to dock.

- Granted.

- So, are we sticking around?

- Make my apologies to
their commander personally,

after that, get all of
our men off this ship.

I want to be out of here
as soon as possible.

- Why did you let Masterson
take us to quarters

without informing me?

- It's a standard practice.

He and the crew need to learn their jobs

and how to work together.

And how to work with the ship.

- You put this crew together Abner,

and now you're telling us
they still need an education?

- Tom...

- It's quite all right, sir.

I did the best I could with
the budget you gave me.

Yes, I personally know
several of the officers,

but they don't all know each
other and they don't know you.

Young greenhorns like
Masterson still need a chance

to make up their own minds under pressure.

- I understand.

But I must insist on
being kept in the loop.

- Of course.

But your fire control officer
doesn't need your help

to do his job.

- It seemed like the
right thing in the moment.

- Well that's why your
father sent me along,

to advise you, sir.

- And what exactly does
that mean, in practice?

You stopped me from
giving Masterson an order;

that's a good deal more
than mere advice...

- It was an order you didn't
need to give but don't worry.

I'll make sure you both
get back home quickly

and in one piece.

That's my job.

- Your point is taken, Abner.

And we'll work on this going forward.

You know what's getting to
me is that... that voice.

I understand that the ship's components

came from unusual places, but...

We can't have that.

It's an embarrassment and it's dangerous.

- Young Royce is weeding
her out as we speak.

- Has he started his qualification course?

I want every officer to
be able to stand watch.

- If I may make a suggestion, captain,

you might focus on today's victory.

Today's prize is worth a fair penny,

and we bagged it right out of the gate.

And... it was an excellent
learning experience.

- Oh, that guy.

I don't even know why we
have to have him with us.

- To a fine start.

- I can hardly believe it.

- Believe what?

- What we just did. What you just did!

I mean, you have this junk ship

and a patched together crew...

- It was easy pickings and the
marines did most of the work.

- You've have the greenest
marine outfit available

- The approach was perfect
right out of the gate.

You couldn't have asked
for a better setup.

- And you've apparently
got the luck of the Irish.

And I'm also the youngest

and least experienced commanding officer

in the entire fleet.

- Always the bright side with you.

- What do you suppose Lydia's up to?

- Counting the corpses on the ship

that we just captured for her daddy?

- That's why you're
thinking of her, isn't it?

That ship.

- Maybe things would be better

if I just went back and married her.

Was it prideful of me to
reject her father's offer?

- No. Your dad may have blown the fortune,

but your family name
still means something.

Abner certainly isn't here for the salary.

- Yeah, we kind of blew
all the family favors

on this trip, didn't we?

- Better to exhaust all your options

than get thrown with the Arkwrights.

You marry Lydia

and you're gonna be dangling
on the end of their strings

for the rest of your life.

- People will die for
our little enterprise.

Two of our marines already did.

They all take the risk: for
citizenship, for a career...

for a little opportunity
to score some loot.

- And don't forget us: here
to save the family farm.

- We're here to prevent you

from becoming some sort of mob husband.

Learn to deal with Lydia later,

and only if you have to.

You about ready to open our orders?

You'd have taken on that
freighter on your own, right?

If Masterson hadn't
brought us to quarters?

- Of course I would have.

I told you, it was the perfect setup.

- You know what?

I didn't even need to ask.

I could see it in your
eyes during the chase,

We're all proud of you.

Your dad's proud of you.

We have to be aggressive out
here sometimes and you were.

It was bold the way you handled it.

Bold.

A little more of that

and you will avoid the cold
clutches of arranged matrimony.

Unless that's... what you want?

I'll leave you to it.

Prize money on the first day!

You know, I'm gonna get
my wife something nice

when we get that bonus money.

- Maybe this DeVol kids does
know a thing or two.

Keeps up like this, we're
all going home loaded.

- How about you, Abel?

You got family back home?

- Not really.

- Sure you do.

Who else would be on that
message you keep playing back

when you don't think anyone's looking?

- None of your business, Dimitri.

- This ship needs a name, don't you think?

- She's got a name.

- Chimera's not much of a name for a lady.

- She's scrap.

- Scrap?

Hell, she's our ticket
through Port Shelley.

You know, the captain's father,
he's the governor there.

He decides which folks did
enough to get citizenship.

They say he's got a
reputation for generosity.

- Yeah, shut up, Salles.

Shelley? She's tougher than she looks.

- Shelley, like "Port Shelley." I
could get behind that.

- Wait, we're just going
to call it Shelley?

- I didn't know what we
were going to get into

when I signed on, but
she's proven herself now.

So what if her bits have mileage,

they're well loved, they work.

- So far.

- I'm serious.

- We're really just
going to call it Shelley?

- I'm serious too.

Didn't you hear the word out of the yards?

What?

Yeah, it's a captured ship

repaired with pieces from
all kinds of other ships.

- Not captured, salvaged.

Two ships, they get different
halves blown off in battle.

All hands lost.

And the admiralty decides
to make the best of it

by welding two ends together.

Why do you think she's the
only hybrid class in the fleet?

Ships like this get sold
at cheap foreign navies

not commissioned as vessels of the State.

- So you're saying that we're
sailing a pair of coffins?

- I guess so.

- I thought I smelled something.

- You're full of crap, Salles.

- Yeah, maybe that's it.

- Hate to burst your dreams of
becoming respectable citizens

but you can check it all out
for yourselves when we put in.

It's incontrovertible.

- incontra... where do you get off?

You think you're so smart?

You're just like the
rest of us, lonely peons.

- That's not what I meant.

- It is a little obnoxious.

Just speak at a level
we can all appreciate.

- Whatever.

I fold.

Philistines.

- That's it, I've had it!

- Whoa.
- Hey, hey!

It's not worth it.

It's all right, man, take it easy.

- Attention on deck!

- What's all this about?

- Nothing, sir.

- Come with me, Salles.

- Sir, I didn't-

- You're being detached from gunnery.

I need a new assistant.

Mr. Saverin's already done the paperwork.

Come on.

Come on.

- Okay, first off,

it's important you understand something

that your predecessor didn't.

- What's that?

- You know nothing.

- Oh.

- I can't waste time breaking
you of your assumptions.

Aggregate displacement
confounds the best of minds.

- Aggregate displacement?

You mean the Static Shift Drive?

Is that what I'll be working on?

- That's right.

- Never thought I'd worked
with an actual warp drive.

Don't use the "W" word.

We'll just laugh at you.

Remember the first
lesson: you know nothing.

- Right.

You know, there's crazy rumors about SSDs.

I always wondered what happens
if something goes wrong

during a transit.

- Best case, we end up off course

due to a missed decimal
point or something.

Worst case, our existences
explode across 16 dimensions.

- Really?

- No.

Go on.

Enough breadboards in there

to make the whole crew
sandwiches. Open face.

- You're a dork...

sir.

- Only a dork would enjoy this.

- I can't pretend I'm not interested.

- Then perhaps I've chosen well.

Here,

get in there and remove the condensation

from between the components.

And be careful.

The boards don't like to be bumped.

Okay, so aggregate displacement,

simply put it's a theory
of quantum science

that allows the ship
to move from one point

in the universe to another.

Given enough power and
the right computations,

it can instantaneously move you

to any point in the universe.

- Any point?

- Any.

- Like, even a point
billions of light years away,

where no one else has ever been?

- Sure.

The more power you can
squeeze through the tube

without frying it, the farther you can go.

Understand though,

it takes a fair bit just to
hop a couple of light years.

The whole process is
extraordinarily sensitive.

- How's that work?

- You know, those fundamental
horrors of the universe

that can drive a man
mad if he learns them?

It's one of those.

- I can't believe I'm working in here.

I've heard people talk about guys like you

like you're royalty.

- We're just guys.

- Sir..

Thanks.

I can't remember the last time

someone really took a chance on me.

You won't regret it.

- No sweat.

Anyway, for right now we're
just doing routine maintenance.

We have to do this before every hop.

- We're leaving the system?

- Captain just told me to do my round.

That usually means travel.

- Gentlemen, we are no longer hunting down

blacklists pirate ships to settle grudges.

We can take prizes of opportunity,

but our goal in mind is one ship.

We are not a part of an
official fleet structure,

but we are expected to
cooperate with other ships

that have the same objective
in mind, allied or otherwise.

- What kind of ship are we chasing?

- We don't know.

One of our allies was
able to take this picture.

- Intelligence calls her the White Ship.

She appears and attacks
ships seemingly at random.

She bears no identifying markings

other than her distinctive
coat of white paint.

- Captain, may I ask who
gave us this information?

- I'm not at liberty to be
specific about the source.

- Of course not.
- Watch your tone.

- It's all right, Gary, speak your mind.

- Captain, our allies can't
even take a decent picture

of what killed them.

And if this massive ship even exists,

our allies are probably hoping that either

we're more competent than they are,

or that we're better at
absorbing cannon fire.

- Have some decency, Gary.

- Oh, to hell with decency!

The only reason we'd all cooperate

is that we each expect each
other to lie down and die

for our own success.

- Gary!

- I guarantee you they're
thinking exactly the same thing.

- The chairman himself
has issued these orders.

Every able vessel is being
called out to join in this hunt.

Several of our courier ships
have already been destroyed.

This is big.

It strikes at the very heart
of our national industry.

Without those ships we could
not provide the services

that more or less fund our country.

There's far more at stake
here than the interest

of whatever nation first
called us into this.

- All the more reason to keep
what Gary is saying in mind.

Look,

some of our "friends" may not necessarily

have our best interests in mind.

Still, we have as good a shot as anyone

at finding this White Ship,

if we play our cards right.

- Thank you, Abner.

And there's something else.

Chairman Houser has
offered up a remarkable sum

for the capture of this ship.

He's marked half his
receipts from last quarter,

and he's leaning on admiralty to match it.

- Is that from his gross or net?

- Gross.

Last quarter was quite kind to him

from the numbers I've seen.

Now, all we have to do is make sure

that we're part of the
group that finishes her off.

- Well, I think we're
all with you, captain.

So where do we start?

- We'll move out system and
hover at Cretcham Point.

From there we'll make transition to...

Here, the Prentiss system,

right at the edge of the Deccan Abyss.

Pretty far out.

It's about the most we can do in one hop.

Take a couple of days charging
before we could come back.

- And awfully close to Yankee territory.

- Everything out here is
close to Yankee territory.

Why this area, captain?

It's awful sparse traffic out there

and a long way from home.

It's unlikely we'll run into
anything, even other hunters.

- A lot of the attacks have taken place

at the edge of the Deccan.

I'm playing a hunch

that they're making their
way around the brim.

We can resupply at Hiram,

and then funnel it through
St. Nishith's Fell,

the orbital station there.

- An ally?

More like the only show in town.

They'll be somebody to buy from there.

Okay then,

I expect all of you to carry
out your duties as usual,

and to keep unnecessary
information from the crew.

SepMOD operators will
have elevated privileges.

Any questions?

You may return to your duties.

Bold!

Something on your mind, Abner?

- I'm just curious about this hunch.

You really think they're
just making a clockwise tour

of the Deccan's edge?

- I said it was a hunch.

- You already knew what our orders were.

Not the usual generalities,
someone gave you specifics.

- Prentiss is an educated guess.

There's been some unusual
activity reported there

the last few days.

- And you think it's
really this White Ship?

Well,

it's a long way to go on a hunch.

I admire your gumption, Captain.

- Helm, Full stop and hover.

- Aye sir, full stop and hover.

All stop captain, trimming to hover.

Trimming complete ship is hovering.

- Mr. Hess we are ready
to commence the sequence.

- Commencing sequence.

60 seconds on my mark.

Three, two, one mark.

Comms.

- Heads are rigged in and stowed.

- LSO.
- Stable.

- Fire control.

- Powered down, all
guns in locked position.

- Maneuvering

- SSD at standby. Reactors
at a hundred percent.

All redundant systems are suspended.

Mr Tamai, power the SSD.

- Power SSD, aye sir.

Operator, open her up steady.

.

- Steady increase.

Normal continuum extraction,
fold attenuating.

- Coolant?

- Natural circulation, nominal flow.

- Why does everyone look so nervous?

- Our SSD was only given short
tests before re-christening.

- Are you nervous?

- Yup.

- 34...

33...

32...

31...

30...

29...

28...

27...

26...

25...

24...

23...

22...

21...

20...

19...

18...

14...

13...

12...

11...

10...

- Vents to full open.

5...

4...

3...

2...

1...

Execute!

- SSD is powering down.

All systems nominal.

- Reactors to 75 percent.

- Aye, sir, reactors to 75 percent.

- What went wrong?

- Nothing went wrong.

We're here.

- Then that's it?

- That's it.

- Ugh...!

- That's bizarre.

- You taste copper?

- Yeah, thought I was bleeding.

- Happens to about 10% of people.

It won't hurt you.

Is it time for lunch yet?

I'm starving like an artist.

- You're a dork, sir.

- 190 million miles out of Hiram.

Solid hover, origin point marked.

- All compartments secure
from transition sequence.

No errors.

No errors.

They did her alright after all.

Tom. Go and take the Conn,

plot us a course for mid system.

Let's get hunting.

- Aye aye, Captain.

Helm, come to course 150 by 041.

Roll angle 12 degrees.

Burn ahead one half and hold, 6 hours.

- Aye sir, course 150 by 041.

Roll angle to 12 degrees.

Burn one half for 6 hours.

- Never been this far from home.

- Homesick?

- No.

You did EW
in your last assignment?

Just as an assistant but, yeah.

- And their set up was crap.

The captain only got five
keys from the Admiralty

so they had me trying to hack
one ship after the other.

In the end, we would always
just blow down the doors.

That's one thing I will give
to our intrepid captain.

He didn't skimp on that keyring.

- Yeah, how is he supposed
to have all this stuff?

I mean, isn't he supposed
to be low on cash?

- You shouldn't be talking about that.

- Oh, come on, Kai.

You've heard the rumors.

I mean, he went to one of the top schools,

was in one of those clubs.

- Now that's enough.

- It's obvious he's in
bed with high government.

His surname should have
tipped you off on that.

There's no question that IO is involved.

- Why would the Intelligence Office

have anything to do with it?

Beats me,

but who else has the resources

to supply something like this?

I mean did you see those
unmarked ordinance crates

that we took on a few days ago?

I bet you those are some
of those new molten rounds.

- Who told you all of this?

- How about that big red
button up at the fire control?

- Yeah, what is that thing?

- Testudo.

- Tortoise?

- Tortoise shell.

The outer shake-coat layer of our armor

is nothing unusual for a warship

but they discovered a while ago

that if you run out the
heavy current through it

in these alternating grid patterns

it hardens to something like
20 times its usual strength.

- That's the stupidest
thing I've ever heard.

You run current through any metal

and all it does is heat up.

It actually weakens it.

Not to mention the scientific fact

that all semiconducting
conducting materials

like our outer armor

actively resist current.

- Not this semiconducting material.

- If you don't know how
it works just say so.

Don't try and make it up.

- Why isn't this standard
across the fleet?

- Because while it sounds great in theory,

in practice the TS burns
through so much power,

our reactors could never hold it constant.

Moreover the alternating grid phases

have this unexplained habit
of trying to flow back

into the transformers.

The systems burn themselves
out within a few seconds

and take everything that
was connected to them.

- That's crazy.

Why would anyone want that?

- Search me.

Who knows what evil lurks in
the mind of inbred aristocrats.

- Now that is enough.

You stop with all this gossip right now.

Quite frankly, it's
unbecoming of officers.

Besides don't you have
something better to do?

- I do now, if that's
gonna be your attitude.

- Wipe the cereal off your
face and get outta of here.

No more of that talk.

I mean it.

And that's
a risky gamble there

but if he can hide the cannon

before the ref gets up
he'll be in the lead!

Red, what do you think of
this move by Pinkerton?

Oh, it's a
failure of diplomacy Ted.

This may be a case of winning
the battle and losing the war.

- This show sucks!

- What are you five?

Shut up.

The grownups are trying to watch.

- At least it's new.

Who's broadcasting this?

- Saint Nishith.

I think they imported it from Puerto Mal

and quit playing with your hair.

Or we'll hold you down again,

shave the rest off.

- What is this?

- Garbage.

How do you have any brain cells left, Eli?

- I keep spares in tiny vials
rolled up with my socks.

- Where did they dig up
these marines, anyway?

- Backside of somewhere.

- How would they not talk to us?

- Why, would you want them to?

- I mean we do share a ship with them.

- So?

They're weirdos, just leave them be.

It's enough to try to do your job

and keep your sanity out here

without some lunatics trying
to raise the dead next door.

- They aren't summoning the dead,

they're sending prayers to the Shah.

- Oh are they?

And what is a Shah?

- A male peacock.

- He's their king, basically.

Way back when, their Irish
leader started co-opting bits

of Persian and Viking culture.

Then, he convinced them

that all of their prayers flow through him

to their respective gods.

It's a good thing they can shoot straight

since they think in pretzels.

- That sounds like devil worship to me.

Praying to some crazy possessed man.

- Superstitious now?

Gosh sailor, way to beat the stereotype.

- You know, I've seen that medal you have.

You only pull it out

when you think no one's looking

but I've seen you staring at that thing.

Almost if you were praying to it.

- It's not religious you moron.

It's just something my mother gave me.

- Oh, good for you.

Go back to your book mama's boy.

Red, what are
you looking forward to?

My son's next birthday.

I bought him a home chemestry set.

panel analyze that, shortly...

- They can't really be trying

to summon demons or something, can they?

Who knows?

Why don't you go ask him
and see what happens?

- I ain't talking to no demon raisers!

...generous grant from
the Elgin Foundation For Preserving

arts and perishable food products.

And in part by donations
from viewers like you.

This show sucks.

Got something?

- Yeah, I think so.

It's unofficial chatter, audio only

but it caught our attention.

- It's gone sir.

- What do you think?

- I think we should tell the captain.

- Good man.

- She's here, gentlemen.

Nursing wounds out beyond
the edge of the system.

- We intercepted comm traffic

that indicates a very
large ship of unknown class

attacked a convoy on its way out system.

Bad luck for them

the convoy came with a
major escort compliment.

Those warships carved her up pretty badly

but they chose not to pursue.

- She finally walked into a
fight she wasn't prepared for.

- We'll resupply

then head out into the empty
on her suspected tangent

We'll sweep outward,
zigzagging on all axes.

Active sweeps at high speed

and we take this one aggressively,

just like the gun-runner.

- It's a good plan.

Looks like your hunch is paying off.

- Dismissed.

After so many
years of disappointments,

I must say that the notion
of feeling genuine pride

for another member of the
family is, well...

alluring.

I won't pretend that I'm
exactly holding my breath,

understand, but it feels good
to be mildly hopeful for once.

You are making a major first step.

Something that your parents,
neither one of them,

could ever bothered to consider...

- You're due in deck in five minutes.

- I know.

- Mother?

- How old do I look to you?

- Aunt?

Grandparent?

Girlfriend?

It's okay, no one's gonna judge!

The closest
we've been able to figure,

this ship is unfeasibly accurate at range

or else has some way of
closing distance fast.

We have a hard time separating
the myth from the fact.

Whatever it is the White Ship is doing,

we're pretty sure it happens fast.

Some of the boxes we found
haven't even logged cries for help.

I don't envy you, and
I don't think your dad

should have encouraged this excursion in...

- Come in.

- Any word from home?

The Port Authority is
demanding a "pass through" fee

for the water, 1200 in Rhodesian Pounds.

- I'll bet.

Go ahead and give it to them.

That will
take us closer to reserve.

- With the prize money coming
in, we should be all right.

By the way, Abner, I've been
going over the crew bios again.

- Did you have a question
about one of them?

- You call Saverin an "evocatus."

Now my Latin is a bit rusty,

but which of the two
empires does he hail from?

- I found him a while
back doing mercenary work,

and he mentioned he did two
tours on a Martellan vessel.

Are you worried about his
credentials or his loyalty?

- I'd like to know how and why he left.

- Ask him.

I didn't.

He's served with me on two ships now,

and always with competence and devotion.

If you had any doubts, you
should have said something

before we left port.

- I don't have doubts, it's just...

Look at who we're docked with.

I'm just a bit worried
that if they see him,

they might try and take him back.

I had hoped that their war wouldn't reach

this close to us though.

- Well, for what it's worth,
I can say with confidence

that Saverin seems to have
lost faith in his homeland

during his second tour, but
he didn't desert or go rogue.

He's not a fugitive.

He is just a bit bitter, I think.

We'll have no trouble from the
Empires, either one of them.

- Thank God for that.

- 17 hour burn starting now.

Cease burn at 2600 hours.

Helm, roll us left to
three-one-five, maintain vertical.

- Rolling left three-one-five,
maintaining vertical.

- SepMOD, Conn, report all contacts.

Sparse traffic to stern,

all bearings shifting to port.

Two commercial vessels, seven private.

All other tangents empty.

- It's not just about the cash,

it's the whole issue with aristocracy,

the DeVol family may have
helped found the nation,

but that hasn't kept them
from falling out of favor.

They have permanent
governorship over Port Shelley,

but granddad still managed
to screw that one up too.

This whole ship is just
daddy's last ditch effort

to regain relevance.

- What happens if he fails?

- Dissolution of the family
property, basically handing over

the family name to someone
else in lieu of payment

and I've even heard talk
of an arranged marriage

to one of the Arkwright
daughters, could you imagine?

- What's this?

- Just a friendly conversation.

- Right.

Because who doesn't enjoy gibbering

with their girlfriend between classes?

- All right, all right.

But you have to admit
that he is a little off.

I mean he acts like a scared ensign.

- Mr. Royce, I have tolerated
your attitude to this point,

but you are testing the
limits of my patience.

- Oh, come on.

He's got us chasing phantom
ships out here in the empty.

He's holed up in his cabin.

I mean he's probably going
pants-crapping insane

just from the pressure of it all.

- You wanna repeat that?

No really, I wanna hear
the in-depth assessment

from the only actual ensign on board.

And how far along are you

with your qualification courses, again?

Clear off, before I skin you.

- I loathe children.

- Look, I know you keep him
on the straight and narrow

as far as performing his job,
but you have to make sure

he shows more respect for his Captain,

no matter what your personal
issues may be with the man.

- Very well.

Where did you find him anyway?

- Loafing around the house.

But at least my brother
says we're even now.

Hey Abel, are you awake?

- Yeah.

- Why did you come out here?

- His girlfriend told him to.

Okay, I'm sure she's worth it.

- Why do you care?

- I can't resist a mystery.

- She's my Great Aunt.

I knew it!

Did she knit you a sweater for the trip?

Offer to come along and rock you to sleep?

- You'd have to salute her if she did.

- Wait... AstroNavy?

An officer?

- She commanded six ladyships
before she retired. Mustang.

Worked her way up from the very bottom.

- Wow, I'm impressed.

- You know, she has
these aspirations for me

and she wants me off those
ghetto islands back home.

Proper citizenship
wouldn't be bad, either.

- I was thinking the same
thing when Gladys was born.

I want to make enough to
get her a good education.

You know she's gonna make it
through Port Shelley some day.

- Them goals is lofty.

- Have some kids of your own,
you'll make even higher ones.

- I'm okay with what I have.

- Yeah, a tough life,
banging on one cylinder.

- Shut up, Dimitri.

- So... you don't have
any kids, then, Abel?

No.

What do you think we're
doing out here anyway?

Out in the black?

- Why?

You worried or something?

- No.

Well, yeah, maybe a little.

- There's nothing to worry about.

Just empty space.

- But that's just it, I mean...

anything could be out here.

- There's nothing out here.

- The men are starting to wonder

what we're doing out here.

- I'm beginning to wonder that myself.

- Well, a little reflection
is good for a captain.

But I hesitate
to turn back as well.

The admiralty will be expecting to hear

back from us in a couple of days.

- Don't make that the
decision point though.

With ships this far out,

those deadlines are pretty flexible.

- Well, we have been
out here for some time,

and at some point,

we're gonna have to turn back.

It's up to you when.

- But to turn back empty handed?

That doesn't
mean that we're giving up.

We could still replenish
and resume the hunt.

- Not if somebody finds her first,

we might return home,
and find out that there's

nothing left, that it's all done,

there's nothing left to resume.

- Don't be like that, Marcus.

- That's the dirty little secret here.

It was never gonna be enough to

hunt down pirates and collect bounties,

without the White Ship,
Dad and I are finished.

The long line of DeVols, ever since Uriah,

will just be snuffed out.
It's a fine irony.

He founded a country where
the most successful man rules,

gives the Chairmanship to his son,

and the idiot loses it immediately.

And the rest of us have just been
spiraling downward since.

- Technically, Uriah founded
a communications company.

It just happened to grow rich enough,

that it was able to be nationalized.

- Thank you, Abner.

I'm well aware of my family history,

I heard it every day
while I was in school.

"Your family screws up so bad,

that we're going to give them the one job

that nobody can actually lose:"

Port Shelley.

What happened to
you in school is irrelevant.

You're here now, you're the commander.

Teenage bullies have no bearing on your

responsibility to your crew

or your family back home.
- Do not lecture me, Abner.

My experience has everything
to do with who I am...

- Oh no, no, no, we're not gonna
do this self pitying, woe is me...

- I am not... I'm not self-pitying!

- Oh yes, you are!

Did you think this was gonna be easy?

This is the real world of
combat, war, and death.

Thank whatever it is that you pray to

that you haven't directly
seen the death yet.

- Abner!

- You're leading a crew of men!

And they need a man to lead them.

Are you just gonna mope around because

your first stab at a tough mission,

is coming up empty?

Grow up, Marcus.

Right now.

- 1700 hours, cruising as before.

1700 hours,

cruising as before, so noted.

- SepMOD, Conn, report all contacts.

No contacts, sir.

All scopes clear.

- What's our heading?

100 by 385.

- Burn to full stop,

steer to 010 and resume speed.

- Full stop, steer 010,

and resume speed, aye, sir.

- Gary, take the Conn.

We are really out there now,

back to the onboard library... whoa, wait.

Just a glitch.

Ghost in the machine.

- Do we really have to
bring ghosts into this?

We don't have to, I just meant that...

Then don't, okay.

Just, just...

Just don't.

- I don't believe it...

Captain to SepMOD!

Captain to SepMOD!

I don't believe it.

What is she doing?

She's not doing anything.

Emissions? Broadcasts?

None, either she's
got fantastic shielding,

or her reactor's cold.

- Dead in the water?

- No, she'd be drifting if there

was a sudden power loss.

- Maybe she hopped?

And we just happened on her

before she could get up and running?

- There should still be something.

- It has to be the White Ship.

I mean, look at the size of her!

In this part of the void,

there can't be more than a couple of ships

that big and running around.

- Foley, what is she?

- I don't know, captain.

The computer is calling it a

civilian Ontos Cruiser,

but the silhouette's all wrong.

Whatever this is,

I don't think it's in our databases.

- It's her, it's gotta be!

Captain?

- Come on, Marcus, let's go get her!

- Tom, so help me...
- Enough with the formalities, Marcus.

This is me that you're talking to,

and this is exactly

what we've been working towards.

- Unless it's a trap.

- Unless it's a trap for who exactly?

Look, if she starts
twitching when we get close,

we can easily pull away with

just scratches, Marcus.

We ignore this, and we're missing

the opportunity of a lifetime.

- Okay, we'll get in closer,

and evaluate her condition.

- Yes, sir!

We're going in to get her.

I have the Conn.

Roll starboard 10 degrees.

Stern up 49.

10 tips to Port by the bow.

- Aye, sir.

- Burn ahead one quarter, 60 seconds.

- I have the Conn, threat board on two.

- Captain?

- SepMOD, what's her bearing?

304 by 355 relative.

- Helm, adjust our approach.

Bring us up on her beam.

- Adjusting, aye, sir.

- Captain?

Yes.

- May I recommend we hail them?

- No, radio silence for the time being.

- Shall we go to quarters?

- Go to quarters.

- General quarters, general quarters,

all hands to battle stations!

- Ship is at quarters.

- Chief, bring up the external
on three. Extreme telephoto.

Light her up.

Closer.

- She's huge.

- SepMOD, do you have a
classification on the target?

The computer's
still stumbling on it.

Now it says it could be
a McClarren gray ship.

- Is it?

No chance, Captain.

- Helm, back one quarter.

Let's not get too close yet.

She looks derelict.

- Not necessarily.

Look at that darkening aft,

She's taken a couple of serious hits.

That could be a breach.

- The airlock looks warped on this side.

We'd have to approach from the other,

where she could have taken less damage.

Gary?

- Some variant on the Viper III mount.

They're very accurate,

but the magazines are kept inside the hull

and the barrels have to be rotated

perpendicular to the spine

to line up the feed
slots between every shot.

Not very good at close quarters.

- Have the crews of Hydra 1
and Quad mount load specials.

- Aye, sir.

Quad mount and Hydra 1.

- All right.

Load the specials.

- Helm, bring us alongside her.

We'll prepare a boarding action.

Bring us alongside.

Aye Sir.

- Closing at 10 feet per second.

Coming about.

- Guns at the ready?

Contact one
thousand yards and closing.

Devil's Distance captain.

- If they were gonna give us any trouble,

they would have done it by now.

- Does anybody see any white paint?

- Maybe they...

repainted.

- Let's get a close-up of the bow.

- That's not recent.

That's old damage.

- What's it say?

- Voltairine?

- That's not right.

This isn't right.

- Go wide again.

- Chief!

Lost the input signal, sir.

Recycling it again.

- Whoa.

- What?

- Chief! What's going on?

Sir?

- Chief, what's going on?

- Guidance thrusters not responding.

- What?

- I have no control.

- Royce!

- Nothing's working, nothing's working!

- Did they infiltrate us?

- They can't have, there was
no signal, no transmission.

- Gun crews are all reporting

their controls won't respond.

- They've set us adrift.

Royce, you have to clean them out!

- I don't, I'm trying Captain.

- Not good enough, make it happen.

- I, I can't!

- You have to.

- Marcus!

Marcus!

- All engines ahead flank! AHEAD FLANK!

- I have no control!

- Gary!

- Do it!

- We're rolling to port!

- Fire control's back on line!

The shock must have tripped something!

- Helm, all ahead flank!

- Helm still isn't answering Sir!

Hydra Twin out of action!

- Quad mount also out of action!

- Hydra 1...

- She is not responding, sir!

The targeting system's damaged.

- Fire with any working gun we have!

Patch me through to the crew of Hydra 1.

- Ed, patch him in! Cobra and Hydra 2,

rotate 090 relative and bottom out!

We'll hit her as we come around!

- Ugh!

- Gary, I'm gonna give
the crew a Hydra 1 to

make a manual shot!

- Aye captain. Hydra 2 and Cobra

target the damaged section on
her stern as we come around,

- Royce can we do anything
about our targeting system?

- I can't get any readings.

It's like there's nothing there to spoof.

- Hit the button again.

Now!

- Hydra 2 coming around.

Firing!

We missed!

- Cobra, you're up!

- Yes sir!

- Royce, hold that button down.

Hold it down I said!

- Hydra 1, prepare to fire.

- Sir, I've got burnouts
all across the board.

Something's drawing too much power!

- Safety override. Reactors to 150.

Pull the stops. Now!

- Steady now.

- We got this.

Fire! Tear me a hole right through her!

Firing!

- Hydra 1...

Fire!

And we've done it again!

Shut her off!

Conn, target has
broken into two pieces.

Both are drifting away from us.

- Reactor status.

- Reactors are holding stable.

- We're all right.

We're okay.

- Alive, at any rate.

Check for damage.

- Aye sir.

Looks like the fat lady called it a day.

- You're a dork Salles.

- Are you all right captain?

Can you receive a damage report?

- Kill the alarm.

All compartments, report damage to LSO.

We shouldn't have been
able to survive that.

- No, we shouldn't.

It was Royce on the MFC.

Without the Testudo we'd
have had hull breaches

with the first hits.

His presence of mind just
saved all of our lives.

And without his quick thinking,
we'd all be finished...

The pressure
doors are still open!

- I need to see how much of
my ship is still working.

Hull breach.

Hull breach. Hull breach.

Releasing sealing agent.

Hull breach.

Sealing pressure doors.

- What is going on?

What is happening to my ship?

- We're breached aft in engineering.

They've been sealed off.

- Ventilate them. They need air!

- Captain, the back pressure
will bleed the entire system.

We'll all depressurize!

- Use O2 tank 3!

Dump the entire thing into
the chamber of wholesale.

Come on!

- Sven!

Sve...

SCRAM the reactor!

SCRA...

- Salles!

The breach will be sealed in a moment.

- Fire in engineering!

- Belay oxygen. Release CO2.

- It's not releasing.

Hull breach sealed.

- Salles!

I need you to get on the CO2.

- Go!

- Is there anything else that we can do?

- Nothing.

If they can't get that fire out.

Reactor SCRAM.

Reactor SCRAM.

Reactor SCRAM.

We're on auxiliary power.

I think the fire is out, captain.

- Release the oxygen!

- Salles, you all right?

Come on, you all right?

Its all right.

- Talk to me. Come on.

- I have to help.

- No! No! There's nothing you can do!

Let me go!

- It's all right.

Easy.

- He's sleeping.

- Yeah.

- He's... he's sleeping...

The hull breach
is temporarily patched,

but we need a drydock before

we can reasonably go into combat again.

All five rail gun mounts are nonresponsive

since that last hit.

Auxiliary fuel tanks are destroyed.

That's what started the fire.

We're running in limited
capacity on battery backup,

which...

- Won't give us enough power to maneuver.

Move on.

11 men are dead, 15 wounded,

and only three of the
engine crew survived.

All the computers crashed in
the switchover to battery.

Some of the systems have re-booted,

but others are just gone.

The good news is whatever got
into our thruster control,

seems to have been flushed
out by the system crash.

- Okay.

Tell me bad part.

- The SSD has taken significant damage

and, Tamai's obviously not up
to repairing or operating it.

And no one else on board

has his knowledge or experience.

- We can't go home.

This is a disaster.

- Marcus.

- It wasn't even the right ship!

- You should be proud of your crew sir.

Whoever the Voltairine was,

she would have preyed on others,

possibly our allies.

We lost some good men but that
happens in this profession.

Sir...

you should be proud of them all.

- I suppose we've done
our part in this search.

Reactor is critical.

Reactor is critical.

All engines ready to,
begin standard maneuvers.

- There's the real good news.

The reactor was somehow undamaged.

It looks like our surviving crew members

were able to get it up and running.

Will you take the Conn?

- Give me five minutes.

- How about you Tom?

Are you holding up?

- Oh yes! I'm just fine!

You're right. This is a disaster.

It's my disaster.

- Oh, knock it off!

- I just thought that you should make

a real decision for once!

- And I did.

And I have to live with it.

You don't.

Pull yourself together and have a drink.

- How about the navigation systems?

- What? Oh.

Completely dead.

I can still do manual plots.

I'll get us into port.

- You'll have to get us home after that.

- You want me to calculate
a transition, by hand.

- Proper help is unlikely to
present itself at St. Nishith.

Equipment to repair the drive, maybe,

but personnel, I think not.

- But I barely even
scrapped those classes.

And without Dennis here to run the drive,

If we can even get It fixed...

- Then you'd better break
out the displacement manual.

Work with Gary on this.

We're gonna need a second

just in case something happens to you.

Not Gary, Kai.

Gary will be busy unsticking the guns.

It'll be at least two weeks
until we reach The Fell.

Just long enough, to get used to the idea

of becoming an Arkwright.

- Marcus.

- Don't call me Marcus.

Get on it right away.

- Your orders, captain?

- Helm,

come to course 185,

by 046.

Roll angle 31 degrees.

Best safe speed to St. Nishith.

Aye sir.

Course, 185 by 046.

Roll angle 31 degrees.

Thrusting ahead.