“One hundred twenty-one messages?” she repeated. She glanced over at the view screen where the immense alien ship nearly filled the entire window. “Granth, how many of those messages were in Objurian?” The communications officer glanced at his board. “One hundred twenty.” “What are you thinking?” Plymon asked her. “And one message in what we could assume is in their language?” Granth nodded. “That’s what I would say.” “Magnus, plot the quickest course to Regency Base. We have to get there as soon as possible.” “Already plotted, Captain.” The man pointed to the view screen. “Except that thing’s between us and home.” “Granth, tell them we’re going around them. If they don’t like it, inform them we’ll slice a path right down the middle of their ship if we have to. If they still don’t believe us, remind them how we were able to temporarily shut down their engines.” “Captain?” She glanced over at Plymon. “They sent one message to their own ships.
