- Three Starfleet ships approaching. – Charlotte Ainsworth said, her face ashened – Their weapons are hot.
- I confirm. – Vasya Nussbaum said with a nod. He turned back toward his Captain – We have a slight chance to kick the shleimielim… or, at least, we can try…
Metlesits looked at the screen, watching as the three starships slowly approached them. Calculations sprang up in his mind, weapons arcs and power output charts and hull integrity stats. He sighed deeply. After all the Polaris had been through, three Starfleet ships seemed not even a big risk to take. They would die, of course, but they'd go down in a blaze of glory.
- Why? – he whispered. This isn't why they crossed the stellar sea and returned to Earth after more than six months of exile. He wrenched his eyes away from the viewscreen and looked at Nussbaum. The first officer looked back at him the same way Ludmila did before the mission. Ludmila… he returned for her.
He stood up with his knees popping in protest. He was getting old too early. He turned around to look at the others: Rochus Heimann and Charlotte Ainsworth who should be enjoying a happy married life. Ma Kelley, who has sworn never to be a war surgeon again but had to break her oath.
Metlesits turned forward once again. There sat Vasya, his oldest friend and stalwart ally who should command his own ship now. And Ramón Jiménez, who needed to learn to smile and laugh again. And, standing at the engineering console, the Big Chief, who needed to be among his beloved gadgets – and lovers – again.
- Your orders, Skip? – Nussbaum said, forcing back Metlesits to reality from his reverie. The Captain sighed and smiled at him.
- Deactivate all shields and weapons, Vasya.
- What? – Nussbaum's eyes widened to a size of a saucer.
- We're home, Vasya. – Metlesits said silently. He looked around again, wishing luck to help them live. They must live, no matter what happens to him.
To his great surprise, Nussbaum merely nodded and switched off all the tactical systems available on their damaged ship. He left his console to stand next to his Captain and friend. Metlesits's surprise grew to be a heart-choking feeling of catharsis when the others joined him. They were, after all, more than a crew. They were friends. They were a family.

The Starfleet Captain gestured to his communications officer when the latter confirmed an incoming transmission from the renegade First Fleet ship. He was prepared for a trap. No First Fleet ship flew so unprotected. It had to be a trap…
The Captain's eyes widened when he saw the other ship's bridge appearing in the main viewscreen. He expected to see a rebellious horde of Terran Nationalists. What he saw was a humbled little group not with anger and rage on their faces, but sad acceptance. He couldn't help but gulp at their pitiful sight.
- This is the United Earth starship USS Polaris. – the Terran Captain said. He looked years older than his biological age, short and stocky, an old breed of Human, the Starfleet Captain mused wordlessly.
- This is the Federation starship USS Phobos. – he said. He felt the sword of Damocles over him. Maybe it was a trap indeed and the hammer was to fall any minute, any second now. Instead, the Captain of the USS Polaris simply said:
- We surrender.




Polaris by me
Phobos by Kevin Riley
Abbé by
Miranda kitbashed from various modellers' meshes
Background by NASA