Commander Max Sterling sits inside the cockpit, clutching the control stick and pressing on the trigger. While inside the cockpit, he operates on a whole new level.

Three of the enemy comes after him. He looks vulnerable.

But with a few pushes of buttons and pulls of levers, the veritech fighter pilot makes quick work of all three of them. He sees another enemy fighter. He takes aim, and fires.

Tag your it. The enemy fighter explodes in flames.

The canopy opens, and Max steps outside.

“Really impressive flying, Max,” says Space Marine Lieutenant Colonel Akira Nomura, commanding officer of Knight Squadron, , the Space Marine veritech squadron assigned to the Tokugawa. “Maybe we can do this again sometime.”

Skull Squadron had just finished a joint simulator exercise with Knight Squadron. Experience had taught the two squadron CO’s that simulated battles against AI opponents pale in comparison to simulated battles between flesh-and-blood pilots.

The battle cruiser does have automated probes and drones. However, guided missiles never fully replaced soldiers. Neither would probes or drones fully replace fighter planes.

“Hope you had fun in the sims,” says Captain Rick Hunter, dressed in service khakis instead of the flight suits the pilots who had been training were wearing.

“Captain Hunter,” says Colonel Nomura, “we should schedule maneuvers drilling in the real planes, out in space.

“Maybe even some target practice,” suggests Max.

“I’ll consider it,” says Rick. “I’ll be in my office.”

“Prepare for hyperspace fold,” says Second Lieutenant Vince Grant, his voice coming from the intercom speakers.

Ooooooooo

“We are approaching the planet,” says Lieutenant Grant, looking at the screen on his console.

The Tokugawa is approaching its second planet in this star system. The first planet they had visited was a gas giant. Basic information was recorded- the planet’s atmosphere was mostly hydrogen, and the temperature was a frigid minus 40 Fahrenheit. The only moons were a few rocks about fifty to two hundred miles long.

It had been two weeks since the crew began their mission. The other places they had visited were empty of any life. Captain Lisa Hayes had been given a star chart and a list of places the Zentraedi had previously visited.

“There doesn’t seem to be any moons around that planet,” says Commander Aaron Leibowitz.

“Take us to a fifteen thousand mile orbit,” says Lisa.

“Aye aye, ma’am,” replies Grant.

Oooooooo

“We detected gravitational waves, sir,” says a sensor technician in a bunker beneath the planet’s surface. “Consistent with a hyperspace fold or defold.”

“Can you tell?” asks an officer.

“No, sir.”

“Radar’s picking up a signal,” says another technician. “It’s approaching us. It might be a ship.”

The officer picks up a handset.

Oooooo

Colored lights from the liquid crystal displays of the monitors provide most of the light for the bridge of the battle cruiser. The bridge crew watches the monitors. The huge near-spherical shape of a planet dominates the view from the bridge.

“It’s really hot down there,” says a crewman, looking at the monitor screen. “About 180 Fahrenheit in the equatorial regions.”

“So much for shore leave down there,” says Commander Aaron Leibowitz. He strokes his short-cropped beard with his index finger.

“Sir, ma’am, spectral analysis indicates that the planet has a nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere,” says another crewman. “Maybe we could walk around on the surface near the polar regions at night.”

“There seem to be radio transmissions from the planet,” says a third crewman. “I wonder if there are survivors down there.”

“Captain,” says a radarman watching the radar screens. “We’re detecting six objects rising up from the atmosphere. Their velocity is increasing.”

“Keep an eye on those signals,” replies the captain.

It is not surprising that there are people down there, if the intelligence reports were accurate, although it would not have not been surprising if there was no one left- or at least no one left to broadcast radio waves or launch rockets. The people on the bridge wonder what will happen. Are those blips, speeding towards the battle cruiser, a welcoming flight? Or missiles?

Captain Lisa Hayes looks at the planet, preparing to make a decision.

“They are all converging on our position,” says a crewman.

“Emergency fold now!” yells Lisa.

Oooooooo

“Contact made,” says a radar technician on the planet.

“I’ll call headquarters,” says an officer.

Oooooooo

“We are detecting gamma ray bursts from our former position,” says a radar technician a few seconds after the emergency fold and defold. “It is consistent with a multi-megaton thermonuclear detonation.”

“Our multiple thermonuclear detonations,” says Commander Leibowitz.

“Stay on Yellow Alert,” says Lisa.

On the surface of the minds of the bridge staff is the idea that they had barely escaped death.

Ooooooo

Below the surface of the planet, people meet in a conference room. They would stand out on Earth, being covered in a layer of fur. They are dressed in capes and necklaces, and one of them wears a gold chain. The coloring of the fur varies between each person. They all sit around a wooden table. A painting adorns one of the wood-paneled walls.

“What do we have?” asks the person wearing a gold chain.

“A ship folded out of hyperspace, my lord,” says another person, an officer in the military. “The missiles we launched detonated. Latest reports are there are no signs of the ship.”

“Any other ships?”

“None, my lord.”

“I am surprised the rawb’tok people only sent one ship to attack us.”

“Unfortunately, we do not know of anything happening beyond our solar system. Even if they had not destroyed our starships, we would not be able to continue a war with them. Only the rawb’tok people know how to refine the prawt’kulch that powered our ships. We depended on them- until they destroyed most of our ancestors.”

“Could we develop other power sources?” asks the ruler.

“Possibly, my lord, but none with the energy density of the prawt’kulch reaction,” says a technical advisor. “Not even the fusion reactions that power our sun has the same energy density.”

Ooooooo

“Not a good way to make a first impression,” says Vice Admiral Shin Lung.

“Right,” says Lisa, speaking to the admiral via hyperspatial radio, allowing real-time communication across interstellar distances. “But the Zentraedi did attack them, and the Tokugawa uses the same power source as the Zentraedi do, and likely the Robotech Masters. If there was a way to convince them that we come in peace, and that the Zentraedi are no longer at war with them, we can establish dialogue, and they might share intel on the Robotech Masters.”

“And you have a plan to contact them?”

“Yes, sir.”

Oooooooo

“What we are doing, sir, ma’am, is sending a sequence of prime numbers,” says Lieutenant Forbes, who is an exo-linguist, part of a science team the Spacy assigned to the Tokugawa. It broadcasts the name of the number, followed by a series of beeps. Hopefully, the aliens will figure out, and we can know how to count in their language.”

A relay probe had been launched to orbit about ten thousand miles around the planet. It had been prerecorded with a message. The idea of communicating using prime numbers had been developed long ago.

Lisa and the others wait, and wait.

“We’re receiving something,” says a communications specialist about an hour and a half after the probe started broadcasting.

Lisa listens. The message is confusing at first.

Then she notices what it is. The message consists of a word, followed by a series of beeps.

The prime numbers.

Oooooooo

“Captain Hayes, thank you for the update,” says Admiral Shin. “The alien message has been forwarded to REFCOM intelligence.”

“Is that all, sir?” asks Lisa.

“For now,” says Shin. “We have messages to send to your crew and Space MarinesPersonal messages. You will continue your mission. There’s the rest of the galaxy to see.”

Ooooooo

“It’s really hot outside,” says Miriya Parino-Sterling, sitting inside the living room of her home. “Over a hundred today. At least the air conditioning works in the house. Now wave to daddy, Dana.”

Dana Komilia Sterling waves at the camera.

“We love you, and we want you to come home safe.”

Max sits in his quarters, looking as the recorded video ends, the last image being that of his wife and daughter.

And another child is on the way.

Ooooooo

“I wonder if it was a mistake, my lord,” says an advisor. “Sending that message.”

“We’ve no means of waging interstellar war,” says the ruler. “Either the rawb’tok people no longer wish to continue the war, or something happened to them. Maybe someone else destroyed them, maybe they broke apart from within. We have to spread our wings."

The ruler sits down, feeling the weight of responsibility bearing down on him.