Mayhem was aboard the Pulsar Wind. Captain Novax had fumbled wildly at the helm getting the ship out and away from the docking bay. Presently, he enjoyed the Empress breathing down his neck, peering over his shoulder and pressuring him to make the jump to hyperspace.

“What about that one there?” she asked, pointing to the middle lever in a series of seven. “What does that do?”

“That’s the ejection seat, Your Annoyingness. Perhaps you’d like to try it?”

The controls weren’t completely foreign to Novax, he recalled some Hantorain from his youth, but mostly he remembered phrases about food or curse words he hadn’t been allowed to repeat.

“We’ll just make a run for it with the cruising engines at full throttle,” Novax said.

The Empress ignored his negation and then provided her own rebuttal. “I thought you said your grandfather was originally from Hantor?”

BAr-at-tAT! The Pulsar began to shake. BAr-at-tAT!

“He owned a restaurant!” Novax shouted as a squad of Hantorian fighters began firing on the ship.