Invictus’s commander felt the urge to use her active scanners. The new vessel’s suite had more than twice the power of Vindictus’s, enough to pull in data from half the system. But it was also like shining a bright light in the darkness…it would alert any ships that might be lurking out there to Invictus’s presence. And one transit from Confederation space, that wasn’t a chance she was willing to take.

The systems she had passed through so far had been mostly empty, valueless save for the presence of still-functioning transwarp lines. The technology that had allowed man to create the faster than light links between worlds had been lost during the steady decline of human civilization leading up to the Cataclysm. The amazing portals between systems seemed almost like magic now, even, she suspected, to technologically advanced powers like the Confederation. The ancient lines dominated the strategic layout of human-occupied space, and the political entities and nations were largely based on links to other systems rather than actual locations in physical space.

Kat leaned back in the command chair, still surprised after two weeks at how comfortable it was. Alliance culture tended to be hard, and excessive luxuries were usually frowned upon. But whoever had been in charge of Invictus’s final specs had ignored that tradition. The chair was upholstered in jet black Dhurallian leather, and it was plush and overstuffed. And the luxury went far beyond the bridge. The commander had a full office just off the control center, also luxuriously outfitted, and her quarters were downright palatial for a spaceship, four full rooms, richly-appointed.

Kat had to admit, on some level she enjoyed the comfort, but on another it bothered her. Her family was enormously wealthy, but she’d been raised to be tough, to be a warrior. When she’d gone on camping trips, first with her father, and after that with Yuricus, they had hunted or fished for their own food, and if they’d come up empty, they went hungry. They’d slept under the stars, on the hard, cold ground, not in tents erected by servants. It was normal for wealthy children of the Alliance to be pushed in this way, and though it was often hard, it was the way. Soft chairs and plush, luxurious quarters seemed wrong…and the fact that someone involved in the design process believed otherwise suggested an erosion of Alliance values that made her uncomfortable.