-Kwookal- (earlier that day)

  Kwookal smoothed the crest of the child she had just finished examining and chittered lightly, the two acts a common soothing mechanism for stress. It was intended to ease the worries of the children that she cared for, but she found that it served to ground her as well. The actions physically and mentally tying her to the child in front of her. It was not her child, though, and she sent them back to their parents, who were waiting near the exit of the tent.

  Stress relief was in dire need these days.

  She had never expected to be using her clinical skills so much when she had joined the volunteers for the colonization. Getting in on the leading wave of the effort had seemed a dream come true for her. She would get to experience a brand-new world, get herself set up as a leading professional Doctor on planet and be in complete control of her own future.

  She hadn't expected to be currently locked into a position of caring for refugees instead of running her own practice in the Captial, but such is the way the tides turn. She would never deny someone care for her own aspirations, and she was doing good work here. Here, she was needed. Even if it wasn't where she had expected to be.

  The colonization efforts had started off well enough. The settlers came in seven waves over the course of a few years, each clustered around a specific landing point on the newly named continent of Chworaal. Each landing point rapidly becoming a city and towns networked for resources and space.

  Kwookal had considered herself lucky to be on the first wave. They had the prime pick for landing sites, settling around Kadeel, the giant lake near the center of the continent. They were also the prime candidates for the creation of the new capital, Tileet.

  Sadly, their luck was not to last. They had only just gotten all seven waves on site, only barely begun to fully network and get things properly stable when the blockade had occurred. That event forcing them to apply to become candidates for this Galactic Community far earlier and with less bargaining power than they had desired.

  In the end, she feels that was the only thing that had saved them. They had been naive to have failed to consider hostile action. It was only under the thin umbrella of the GalCom's influence that they had held on, even if they had practically been begging their prospective benefactors for help. For whatever limited help they could get, that was. The Galactic's politics were as dense and difficult to navigate as a kelp forest.

  The Chirleen settlers had found themselves cut off and unable to take to the stars without being cut down by ships from someone that wanted everything they had.

  Not that they would have tried going home.

  They would not show the interlopers where their true home was. True, they were cut off and without aid. But the same was true of Chirla, their Homeworld. She knew that they were being forced to sit back, wait and, hopefully, prepare. As the Qazirxel had flooded into the Fildecl system, a select few ships had run home to warn them. Using planetary interference and the sacrificial engagement of their Civil Patrol craft to prevent the invaders from getting a reading on their escape vectors.

  She knew that was one of the major reasons that the Qazirel hadn't yet swooped in, they wanted to know where the other available, viable... and vulnerable planet was located.

  Kwookal shook herself from her musings and followed the young family out of the tent, smoothing her own crest as she took a deep breath of the cool morning air and took in her surroundings.

  Alone they may have been, but they were no more.

  As limited in scope as the alien's assistance was, these Humans had done more in the little amount of time they'd had to work with than the Galactics had done with their years of foreknowledge and presence. Sure, they had placed a Station in orbit, granting the Chirleen some legitimacy and political protection and the Qazirxel certainly seemed hesitant to strike after the station started being put together. But until these last few months they had done little else, claiming that they couldn't show favoritism to prospects.

  "But this..." Kwookal looked around her, seeing the grid of examination and surgical tents, the rail enforced lines and packed barriers isolating the area. She knew that behind those barriers lay disposal pits and preparation areas, a vehicle shed and a road leading out to the town. A town that now included improved roads, extra dormitory buildings, storage and infrastructure, thanks to the foresight of the humans prepping the town for an influx of refugees and medical seekers.

  "This is something worth taking note of. Efficient, thorough, capable."

  She had worked with them long enough now to know that if there was a problem, they would figure out a solution, no matter what. They didn't know the meaning of the word impossible.

  Their arrival had been near Heaven sent. Unexpected and themselves unsure of their place in things, the medical supplies and fabrication machines alone were worth the weight of whatever they could have asked for in compensation... and they had asked for nothing.

  Instead of attempting to take charge and run things, they had gotten everything set up, then taught Kwookal and the other doctors and care professionals how to work with their equipment. Kwookal, being one of the few who knew GalStan at the time, wound up being a primary go between contact for both sides. The extra effort she had put in had been exhausting, but it was all paying off now. In addition to helping instruct the various Chirleen workers in GalStan, the humans had taken an electronic archive of the Chirleen language and created an interpretation program for their personal data devices, further helping to bridge the gap and ease their integration into the local culture.

  She quirked her beak in a smile as she took in the steady bustle of the medical tents, then waved when she saw her human assistant, Claire, leaving the area with another female of the human crew that she did not recognize. Kwookal knew that the girl had been looking forward to her day off for some time, and had seen fit to give her a few ideas on what to do in town.

  She couldn't have asked for a better assistant. Claire was attentive, knowledgeable and approachable, even cross species, which was impressive on its own. Kwookal didn't know how to feel about the girl's explanation for it, she wasn't happy with the idea of using veterinary experience with animal analogues to determine behavioral quirks and characteristics of a sentient species. But she had to admit that it worked for the girl. She also had to admit that there were, in fact, only so many effective designs to pull from to create life and they were going to overlap.

  She could admit it. But that doesn't mean she had to like the idea.

  What she could both admit to, and enjoy, was the realization that this small-town life was growing on her. All the supply troubles and security issues aside, there was a peace to places like this that she had forgotten. She didn't need to be on her toes from the moment she left her hammock to the moment she returned. Didn't need to navigate and ride the constant stimuli of the cityscape and large hospitals. She could relax and find time for herself again.

  "This... This is nice."

  Moment of introspection done Kwookal turned to the next family in line, two chicks with their mother that looked worn and exhausted, telling her that they weren't locals. She chirped to get their attention and waved them into the tent.

  "Hi there! Welcome to our Clinic! Are you locals? Alright. You folks look exhausted, have you secured lodging yet? No? OK then, let's work on that after we get you a clear health check. Please, come in. As you can see, we are working with some benefactors to ensure that everyone is safe, healthy, fed and housed. They are the ones that have brought in supplies and set up this clinic and the extra housing. This gentleman is Aaron, he is one of the crew members from the aid ship and he will be helping me with the equipment and diagnostics. Now, before we begin, are there any concerns?"

  __________________________________________________________

  Kwookal saw several more patients and groups of patients throughout the day. There had been some excitement when a delivery had arrived for the clinic, but that quickly faded and became mundane after they went into the secured perimeter and returned empty with no further fanfare. The worst medical issue she saw for the new arrivals was malnutrition and dehydration, both easily fixed. The worst among the locals was a fisherman that had been caught in some of his boat's rigging and lines. He was going to require surgery on his leg and was staying in one of the surgical tents until his procedure could be conducted.

  She felt sorry for the fisherman and other providers. They were working themselves to the molt to try and keep up with the demands for food. The town's population was currently almost double what they were normally. The hope, given the change in the system's Travel Security Level, was that the stress would start to ease off as they became more able to trade for their needs. But that was a trickle down effect that would start in the cities and filter outwards. They were still on their own for the immediate future, and still swelling from taking in those that couldn't continue in the outer villages.

  Kwookal stepped outside the tent once more, directing her last adult patient to where they could speak to a records person, and looked around. She saw a number of other medical personnel outside the tents, more than she usually would. She noticed a few of them collecting in groups and talking about something, their body language seemingly worried, before they moved to another group. The nervousness and hesitation began to spread through all those that could see them, including the incoming patients.

  Frustrated, Kwookal stepped over to confront them. Her attention and proximity allowing her overhear their conversation, "... sure though? There is some sort of vague warning going around on our own data units about the Station having issues, but why are the Galactic ones not working? What is going on?"

  The news put Kwookal off guard. She tilted her head as she absorbed the information, then joined the group before asking for clarification.

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  One of them, a younger female nurse whose name she didn't know, turned to her, "We don't know for sure. None of the Galactic Tech has been able to connect to the Net or send messages beyond local range. Those of us that kept our comm units from home got a weird message saying that the Galactic Station had gone dark and they were evacuating, but now we can't get anything from the station even with those."

  Kwookal weighed her options with the information. She also had a Chirleen comm unit but usually kept it off due to not really having any personal need for using it beyond random medical research. She had been borrowing a radio and terminal from the humans during her time working the tents, as that was all she needed.

  As she turned things over in her mind, the implications of a blackout and evacuation began to weigh on her and she remembered both her duty as Lead Doctor and her original purpose for coming over.

  "Alright. Speculation is fine but do it quietly and in private. You are scaring the patients. I will take this information to the humans. They may have a different way of getting information. Back to work, all of you."

  She got a chorus of, "Yes Ma'ams" before they filtered off, their bedside manners returning and bringing with it a sense of calm to the waiting patients once more.

  Kwookal herself returned to her tent, eyes latching on to Aaron who had been setting up the scanners for the next patient. "Aaron, there might be a problem. Can you contact your Commander?"

  The man stopped his worked and looked at her cautiously. He had worked with her enough to know that she would not put on any airs.

  "Possibly. What is it?"

  "All Galactic tech is unable to reach the Net or make any sort of off world contact. Our own systems have a message stating that the Station has gone dark and is evacuating, and now even they can't make contact with the station."

  The human nurse wasted no time trying to work anymore information out of her and reached for his radio, "Tent 6 to Winters."

  "Go for Winters."

  "Regent Level information relay requested."

  There was a brief pause before the radio crackled back to life, the traffic simple and straightforward, "Tent 6, go to channel 5."

  An adjustment of the radio and a quick verification exchange later and Aaron was speaking directly and privately to the human that she recognized as the Medical Department Head and Ship's XO.

  "Sir, the head Doc here, Kwookal, she just passed on some info. Apparently, the Chirleen are getting messages on local bands that the GalCom station shut down, was evacuating and then stopped responding. All of their Galactic equipment is on the fritz, too. No connection to anything beyond planet side. Given the interstellar Mexican standoff here... I figured it was too important to ignore."

  "No, you did right bringing it up as fast as you did. I'll pass it up the chain and get someone working on it. In the meantime, continue as you were. We'll have an answer soon enough."

  "Understood sir. Tent 6 clear of channel."

  The human looked to Kwookal with a wary smile and a shrug, "It's out of our hands now. Thanks for warning us."

  "Of course. You will be affected as much as we will if something were to happen. It is only proper." She took a moment, then turned towards the tent flaps again.

  "I will go back outside and see to the rest of my teams and get the patient line moving again."

  Aaron simply nodded to her and turned back to the equipment, "Right, see you in a few."

  _________________________________________________________

  -Hawke-

  He had heard everything. A quirk of the Hospitallers that only became known as one rose in the ranks was that certain requests were automatically listened in on by Command Staff. Regent Level requests in particular were for information to be relayed directly the ship Commanders. By listening in on an accepted request, they shortened the lag time and fixed the communication error issues with playing telephone while allowing them to directly inquire about specifics if necessary.

  That also allowed him to make immediate decisions and orders.

  "Mr. Danforth. Call Chwill to verify that we are also out of contact with the station. If that is the case then try to contact Governor Swiit or someone else with the local government to try and pry details out of them. We need an answer, ASAP."

  "Aye, sir. On it."

  "Mr. Mitchell, see if you can't get something out of our probe relays. I know our scanners are blind to space while on planet, but maybe they can pick up a stray signal from one of the other ships out there. And... Keep an eye on local airspace, too. I want to know if something odd shows up there."

  "Yes, Sir. Eyes and ears out."

  Orders given for the moment, Commander Hawke turned back to the radio in his hand and his waiting XO, "Damien, what do you think?"

  "Well, could simply be an emergency on the Station. Any number of things that could have caused that. Problem with that theory is that the Galactics have a relay 'sat' at the system's edge too. Even though the station acts as a local relay, that satellite should be picking up the slack. If it isn't..."

  "Right... Fine then, if it amounts to nothing then it will simply be good training. Damien, put together a team for emergency response and consolidation, and have a smaller team ready to run materials from the armory. We don't have enough info to legally crack it open just yet, but I want to be ready just in case. Get the Heavy equipment operators in seats and ready to roll. Focus on building fast barriers, the HESCO layer and earth movers. If the shoe drops, I want us to be bunkered in as fast as possible with only one road barricaded in with defensive chokepoints and internal perimeter egress points made."

  "On it... And sir? What about air cover? You want me..."

  "COMMANDER!"

  Whatever his XO had been about to say was drowned out by an alarmed shout from his Senior Comms Officer.

  "Damien, hold. Comms?"

  "Local government is in a panic, Sir. Unable to make contact with the Governor, but was able to get an assistant to stop and speak. Their planetary sensors are showing the Station breaking apart, Galactic ships are fleeing and the blockade fleet is moving in!"

  Hawke swore under his breath, his mind weighing the diminishing options available to him. He turned to the holo projector and keyed up the simulation of the star system. He used it to build the movement traces and timelines in his head, and did not like what he saw.

  They weren't going to have time to get off planet.

  "Off Planet... Shit, we aren't the only ones stuck here."

  "Comms, hail the Ruulothi cargo ship and put them on screen." he ordered, his voice becoming firm and commanding. "Damien! It's no longer a drill, get them moving then get your ass to the bridge with your key!"

  "ON IT!" The voice on the radio shook from exertion. The retired military man was wasting no time and was moving at top speed, from the sudden breaking hustle Hawke could see on the external viewscreens, he was also yelling orders as he went.

  "Vickers, go work with Josiah and get the fabricators up and making Black Label materials once the clearance has gone through. Trenton! Grab Keith and get downstairs and keep the mob moving, work with Aaron Faust and Kwookal to get the patients into the med bays, use the dormitories if you have to. Start with the surgical patients then move to women and children. As many as you can before we get hit."

  He then changed the radio's channel back to One. "Signal clear, Signal Clear. Command to Tent 6. Immediate action. All personnel are to return to ship and escort patients to med bays. Work with Dr. Kwookal and her teams and connect with Erin Trenton at the bay doors to get those people inside."

  The affirmative response was hesitant, but it was firm. Aaron had been with them for years. He may not have been military, but he was well trained, experienced and knew what to do.

  Hawke saw the main display pop up while he was giving orders, but he didn't have the time right at that moment to address it. His people jumped and ran without question. The Command crew moving to take control of the developing situation. It wasn't as smooth as he wanted, but it was working. Not that it ever went smooth when the table got flipped.

  He took the briefest of moments to compose himself with a steadying breath before turning to the viewscreen. As he mentally prepared himself for using GalStan he took in the view of the other ship's bridge. The Ruulothi staring back at him stood at an attentive ready stance, what crew that could be seen behind him standing similarly attentive and waiting for orders. He nodded to Hawke as he turned to the screen, signaling him to start.

  "Shipmaster, I am Commander Ethan Hawke of the Hospitallers Fourth Lance. Please forgive me for casting aside etiquette for efficiency. We have just been informed by the local Government that the Galactic Station has been destroyed and all related Galactic tech rendered inoperable. Galactic ships are fleeing the system and the blockade fleet is moving in. We read your engines as on standby. We won't have time to get off planet before they arrive and are bunkering down and sheltering the locals as much as we can. But you might still be able to get off world if your people are nearby."

  He could have sworn he saw the Ruulothi smirk as he talked. But at what, he didn't know. He heard someone off to the side speaking garbled GalStan and saw in back one of the bridge crew bend over their station and begin working. The Ruulothi Shipmaster turned to check on them, then turned to someone just off screen and growled out what sounded like a question in his own language. He nodded at the response, then looked back at both of the crew who had been working. Both nodded and growled the same word at him.

  Hawke saw his lip curl and he took his own breath before nodding. "Commander Hawke, I am Captain Lorthaal. Your warning is appreciated. It is... More than any of our own appears to have given us. We are still waiting on our load crew to return from your compound, and there is still a fair amount of cargo left to be delivered. I assume you have the machinery to get it to your lines if we leave. Do you have any weaponry to protect yourselves? Our scanners did not show anything mounted on your ship."

  Hawke smiled darkly at the question, "Oh, we are not without means, Captain. Don't worry about us and get your people to safety."

  Captain Lorthaal's ears flicked as his eyes seemed to lock onto Hawke's, and Hawke knew that he deeply wanted to get more information. But the Captain was also a professional spacer, and his people took priority.

  "Very well." Lorthaal growled. He turned to speak to one of his bridge crew, but was stopped by alarms ringing out from a station.

  The alarms seemed to sound in stereo, as Hawkes own sensor station began blaring out a warning. Both Captains barked out questions in their own languages, and got the same answer.

  The invasion had begun, and they were out of time.

  Hawke ordered the alarms shut off and sensors to track the contacts and add them to the holo display, which he shifted to show the planet alone. Numerous contacts were flowing into their sensor horizon at high speed, splitting into streams to vector in on the population centers.

  Lorthaal was still giving out orders, his crew snapping to their tasks in the background. He turned a final time to address the human crew before cutting the connection, "We will do what we can. Huntwinds be in your favor, humans."

  As the screen went blank, Hawke gave it a belated nod, "You as well."

  He turned to watch the displays, seeing his people in a flurry of activity. They needed to be ready, but they were still missing something. Hawke gave a frustrated sigh and pulled his radio up, "Da..."

  As soon as he keyed out the doors to the bridge opened and Damien Winters strode in, breathing heavily from exertion. He took in the activity on the bridge and simply asked, "Did I miss the party?"

  Hawke, though, had no mind for his attempt at icebreaking. "Key. Now."

  "Aye, Sir." The XO pulled a chain from around his neck, bringing it to the Command Terminal, "Never leave home without it."

  Hawke ignored him, "Comms, prepare the Code Omega announcement and send out a final recall notice for anyone that didn't get the memo yet. Sensors, continue recording all data and prepare for emergency Crash Burst. But don't punch that button until the very last moment or I order you too, understood?"

  Danforth and Mitchell sounded off with identical acknowledgements, not even bothering to look up from their stations. But Danforth wasn't quite done.

  "Sir, the Wind Runner has launched and is on an intercept course for the incoming contacts."

  "Bring it up on screen."

  Hawke turned to meet his XO's eyes and pulled his own key off a nearly identical chain around his own neck, "On three." Receiving a nod in return.

  "One. Two. Three."

  On the final count, both men pushed their keys into matching slots and turned them, then entered code into matching keypads next to the keyholes. Once that was done a red button lit up in between the two mini stations. Hawke reached out and held it down, allowing it to record his voice for both legal posterity and as a final biometric authorization.

  "By authorization of the Titan Accords and the Hospitaller Creed, I, Commander Ethan Hawke of the Knights Hospitaller's, Third Lance's Crucis Renatus, am declaring a State of Emergency. We are unable to withdraw due to imminent danger via planetary invasion and have no available support or military assistance due to being in alien territory. As such, for the safety of my ship, crew and the local populace, I am enacting the Omega Protocol. The Crucis Renatus is now hot and cleared for Black Label production. Until rescue, or destruction."

  He kept his eyes on the displays, watching as the Wind Runner attempted to take on dozens of what looked to be small troop landers. Hawke and Damien took their keys back, their job done. Clanks, thuds and hisses echoed through the hull of the ship as it reconfigured itself to meet the needs of the Captain and crew. On top of the ship, four clamps on a dorsal ridge designed to look like a smooth part of the ship's hull released. Long unused mechanics whirred to life, slowly extruding the ridge past the clamps and edges of the hull. Four strategically placed panels around the median of the ship also popped open, revealing small, chain fed flechette guns on gimbals. Two more domes on the waist of the upper surfaces lit up as power finally ran to them.

  But it wouldn't be enough, it wouldn't be in time. He watched as the Wind Runner fought hard, taking several of the attacking ships down before one got into their stern and fired a shot straight into through their engine baffles. A secondary explosion ripped through the aft of the ship and it began to flounder, with some adept helmsman fighting a losing battle to keep her in the air. In the end, it was too much. Several more shots slammed into the ship, disrupting its power channels and she fell out of the sky. Recovering only just enough to turn a fatal crash into a shallow water crash landing, leaving the swarm of transports to continue on.

  "Comms, send it."

  "Done, Sir."

  Hawke walked over to the ship wide intercom and waited for the canned Emergency Broadcast to finish. Once it ended, he sent a final message to the crew on board and nearby.

  "Mr. Davies... Report to the bridge, your station awaits. All hands, brace for combat and casualties. All hands, brace for combat and casualties."

  He then turned to his XO, "Damien, go take charge of the defense lines, get them ready for a brawl. This is going to get ugly."

  "We'll hold."

  On his way out the door Damien was only barely able to make way in time for a muscular man with a blonde ponytail and short beard to practically storm into the bridge. "Commander! Robert Davies reporting in!"

  "Take your station, Gunner's Mate."

  "Yes, Sir!"

  Hawke followed his Weapons Systems Specialist to his terminal and waited for him to set up. On screen the first of the landers made it to the town's far perimeter where the Ruulothi ship had been, dropping off their infantry payloads. "Mitchell, send the targeting solutions. Davies, you have the main rail gun, laser defense nodes and a target rich environment clear of friendlies..."

  The former naval gunner glanced over his shoulder at the pause, and Hawke channeled his rage and growled out the next order.

  "... Make. It. Rain."