“Yes, ma’am.” Weston nodded.

“What would you suggest we discuss with your…envoy?”

“Power, ma’am.”

“Power, Captain?”

“Yes, Admiral,” Weston said firmly. “If you can do it, get information on their power-generation systems. They’ll need information on our class-three or higher lasers and maybe our adaptive armor—second gen would do, I’d say.”

“Those are classified technologies, Captain.”

“Those are what they’ll need to mount a credible defense against their enemies, Admiral,” Weston said. “And if we can get their power-generation systems, we’d be able to transition anywhere, ma’am…Our Lasers would be ten times as powerful…You get the idea?”

“Yes, Captain. I suppose I do. Anything else?”

“I’ll draw up a list, but I believe that my CMO would like to ensure that you discuss medical exchange, and they also have the ability to generate asymmetrical energy fields.”

“Indeed,” Gracen said. “Very well, draw up your list…I’ll be sure that our negotiators look at it very carefully.”

“Yes, ma’am. Oh, one more thing…”

“Yes, Captain?”

“If we decide to get more involved, Admiral…”

“That is a big if, Captain.”

“I understand that, ma’am,” Weston said. “But if we do…I’d suggest we offer them some Green Berets as advisors. They need help setting up their ground forces…”

Admiral Gracen nodded. “And that is what the Green Berets are trained to do. Very well, I’ll be sure that it’s brought up. For now, Captain…prepare.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”

Diplomatic receptions, debriefings by a board of admirals, and a great deal of work later, Capt. Eric Weston found himself sitting in the office of Adm. Amanda Gracen, waiting for one more debriefing.

“Captain Weston.”

Weston came to his feet, stiffening to attention. “Ma’am.”

“Take a seat, Captain,” the admiral told him as she circled the room and settled in behind her desk. “This is an informal meeting.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, sitting down again.

“I’ve gone over your statements, and those of your crew, as they were given to the board,” she said, leafing through some loose papers. The admiral was a woman who appreciated the tangibles of paper, it seemed. “However, I’d like to speak with you about it informally, if you don’t mind.”

“No, ma’am,” he said immediately.

“A lot of the admiralty is perturbed that the captain of our flagship would involve us in a war,” she said, looking him in the eye. “In fact, there has been more than a little talk of a court martial.”

Weston felt a chill but forced himself to nod. “Aye, ma’am. I can’t say that I’m surprised.”

“And yet you did it anyway?”

“Admiral…” he hesitated. “Yes, ma’am. I did it anyway.”

“Why?” Her voice was cool, yet challenging.

Weston took a breath. “Because it wasn’t a war, ma’am. It was genocide. I couldn’t stand back and watch, Admiral.”

“Noble,” she told him. “Perhaps not the brightest star in the sky, but noble. I probably shouldn’t tell you this just yet, but you may come out of this better than you deserve.”