Tara stood stock-still, waiting for the first tiny gleam from the scout craft to
appear in the darkness of the wormhole. The gentle constant breeze of recycled
air from the vent above blew an annoying hair against her nose, but she ignored
it.

A gasp from the psychic broke her silent vigil, and she turned.

"Results, Harmon?" she suppressed the surge of annoyance that ran through her as
she contemplated the psi's gift of getting all the hot news first.

Harmon's face slowly animated - joy sweeping in to replace stern concentration.
"Tarrin says the planet's a freaking gemstone! Thriving with life, large and
small forms, no buildings of any kind, hydrocarbons, metals, and a stable
atmosphere. He's not even bringing them back through for a face to face
briefing. He says we should come through now, immediately, before the probe is
reported late."

"Harmon, tell that good for nothing son of a beta to get his hindquarters
through the gate and back here NOW, or I'll open fire on him when we come back
through." Tara fumed. Of all the impertinence! Tarrin, no doubt with orders from
Mason, was questioning her command decisions. That's what I get for not using
mercenaries.

She returned to her watch, regarding her own reflection in the long window.
Mahogany-black curly hair, cut short in the typical military style framed a
careworn, dark-skinned face. It was not an attractive face right now; her ebony
eyes shadowed by hours on the watch, full lips pursed with frustration. She had
the look of every leader she had ever known. At six foot two, she stood a full
head taller than even her Arrallin first officer. Her glowering expression
completed the imposing effect. She picked imaginary flecks off her stark gray
jumpsuit, and snorted. You look like hell, Tar. Don't blow this. Don't let
fatigue get to you.

She used the discretion of the mirrored window to secretively survey her crew.
Harmon was an excellent addition to the bridge team, but was she open minded
enough to defy United Earth Command and sever all ties from Earth? She watched
the psi bob her head, unaware of the rest of the bridge, shaking blonde curls as
she chattered away with the approaching psi relay on Mason's ship. She seemed so
depthless - self conscious and shallow on the outside, but having that
incredible gift. There had to be more to her.

Well, if she didn't pan out, she'd be terminated. Any crew member that would
jeopardize the project was meat. It would be a shame to lose that talent,
though.

Rakal, her first officer, was staring pensively at his panel. He was what this
was all about. She watched his graceful fingers ending in thick black claws tap
out calculations on the panel. His pointed ears swiveled back and forth,
catching every sound from the bridge, while his long tail swished to the rhythm
of his thoughts. Only those of the Arrallin Insurrection inner team knew he was
no common 'beta furry'. His silken fur, which would be tawny golden and striped
with jet black bands, was dyed perfectly to a pure black, and his mane trimmed
and thinned as to be indistinguishable from the rest of his coat. His eyes had
been treated and darkened to a rich purple to disguise the brilliant golden
yellow color that would mark him as an Alpha Arrallin, and leader of his hive.
Right now, he looked like an overgrown wolf who'd learned touch-typing.

The scout ship re-emerged from the hole - a brilliant speck emerging from a
sphere of velvety blackness. It's hail crackled across the comm, and Tara spun
to retake her seat at the helm. "Launch the second probe. Won't Central be
crushed to learn that another gateway has yielded little more than a class F
planet and a white dwarf system. Level 1 and 2 staffers should prepare to be
briefed and move out. This sounds like it's the one." The distinctive whuffle of
pleasure rippled through the betas on the bridge, and Rakal let loose a small
growl, as if to caution his charges against false hope. They'd scouted
twenty-seven gates so far, and none had turned up anything worth the
Insurrection's time. Tara would not let giddy hopes drag them onto a rock that
would spell the end for the project, and the Arrallin species.
