The Navigator replies, “The KobalThi have concentrated their
attacks on the Aquarius.  She’s going down as well.”

    “We have to get the people out of there,” Astrid says.

    “We can’t,” the Second in Command firmly states, “There’s no
way we can get through to them in time.”

    Surely enough the ship begins to drop the same way the
Zhattalan did before.  Already, the Zhattalan is entering the
atmosphere of the planet.  The Aquarius is quickly beginning to
pick up speed, and she dips down deeper into the dive.  It was
clear that the two vessels would carry no one alive to the surface to
survive or be rescued, and the KobalThi would leave no survivors
anyway.  They would eat them.  In fact, the ships would not even
reach the surface.  They already were beginning to disintergrate,
crumbling away like packed sand.

    “We can’t leave them behind,” Astrid says.  But the KobalThi
continue to drive both ships down.

    “There is only one thing we can do,” the Second in Command
says.  “We have to retreat.”

    “No.  We have to try something.”

    “There isn’t anything in space that could stop those two ships
from crashing, Captain.  As much as I hate to see it all, I know it’s
the only right thing to do.  We have a crew of our own to see to.”

    Astrid shuts her eyes tight, as if closing them would prevent all
this from happening.  Tears still slip free and run down her cheeks. 
“Lock on a target.  If those ships are going down, we need to make
sure the KobalThi go down with them.  Prepare to fire a
transnuclear warhead.”

    “That would draw attention to us.  We can’t do that,” the
Tactician protests.

    “We’ll drop it instead.  What attention it does get us will be
short-lived.  I don’t think the KobalThi will be able to follow us
through a cloud of transnuclear debris and fallout.”

    “True, but do they deserve it?” the Science officer asks,
“They’re only doing this for survival.”

    “That’s clouding the point.  We’re going to do this for survival
too.”

    “But it will damage, no, destroy a world that could have been a
Union colony,” the Second in Command again raises a valid point,
but this time Astrid does not relent.

    “But now the Union will only close that world off from
colonists.  Now that we know that KobalThi are still there, and in
mass numbers, protocol states that we either bring in
reinforcements or we exterminate as many of them as possible. 
We will need at least five magnitude twenty explosive warheads.”

    The two ships explode with bright fireballs as their fusion
reactors and power plants break apart.  The sensors indicate that
the ships never completely entered the atmosphere before breakup. 
It is now certain that there are no human survivors to the
explosion, so the Science officer doesn’t even consider their safety
anymore in her arguments against using transnuclear warheads. 
Though she might have brought it up had the ships survived, now
she could not argue a point that did not exist.

    “Sir, protocols aren’t rational.  We’re talking about
exterminating a race of animals that could be sentient beings like
us.”

    “If they were so much like us, then why did they not see that we
were like them?”  Astrid quotes a famous arguement against the
KobalThi.

    “But this could be genocide!  Think of the lesson we would be
teaching our children with history.  That extermination of a
sentient race is acceptable when the Union says so.  If we start
there, where do we go from that?”  The Science officer says.

    “How many people went down with those ships?” Astrid asks.

    “At least fifteen thousand,” the Science officer answers.

    “And how many KobalThi were in that brood?”

    “About five hundred.”

    “Then we nuke them.  Because there are more than enough
human lives on their hands, and if they are sentient, then they must
pay.  If they are not sentient, then they must be terminated so we
can keep the Union safe.”

    “Captain, I am utterly opposed to your decision,” the Science
officer says.

    “She’s right,” the Second in Command says.  “I am also utterly
opposed to your decision.  However,” he adds in Astrid’s defense,
“I see no other alternative.  The KobalThi have never listened to
the so called voice of reason.  We have tried to transmit messages
to them in every known manner, and in a few manners that happen
to be classified.  Look up the systems on this ship.  Anyone who
does will notice a device marked as the KobalThi Protocol.  It is
the closest we have ever come to communication with them.  The
ship that first tested the device even managed to get a few words
out of the KobalThi, but it was none too desirable.”

    “Then they are sentient.”

    “Not if all they said was: ‘we need food.’  Remember, those
words, people?  That’s what the first and last transmission from
the KobalThi was.  Now, I don’t like it any more than you do, but I
have nothing to do about it.  They’re after us like bats out of hell,
and they won’t stop unless they get enough to eat.  Do we like
that?  No.  Can we stop it?  Yes.”

    “But we’re repaying evil for evil,” the Science officer said.

    “Is it sentient?”

    “Not that we know of,” the Science officer admitted.

    “Then it isn’t evil, as far as we know it,” the Second in
Command stated firmly.  “And this is what we do when it
happens.  They’re surviving, I’ll admit that.  I’ll even admit that I
don’t enjoy killing anything, but they’re killing us to survive. 
They’re living for sure--off of us--and we’ve got to get it through
to them that we’re not going to let them live off of us anymore.”

    “If they’re not sentient, then it’s futile.”

    “No it isn’t.  It is conditioning.  And it is not futile.  The less
KobalThi there are, the less colonies are in danger, and the more
the Union survives.  Albeit at the expense of the KobalThi, but it
has to happen.  Somewhere, we have to draw the line.  Otherwise
they’ll walk or fly or hyperspace it or do whatever they do all over
us and then when they’re done, they’ll go and do it to whoever
else they find!  Now that’s some legacy for the Union of
Planetary Republics to leave behind, isn’t it?  I’m not about to put
whole generations on the line because I wasn’t willing to
exterminate a fraction of that number in KobalThi, and a paltry
fraction at that.”

    “In that case, you are correct.  Despite what misgivings I have, it
seems the only alternative, sir,” the Science officer says to the
Second in Command.

    It is clear that the Second in Command began to argue so that
the Captain would not have to.  The two commanding officers put
their keys into the keyholes and turned them.  Then they gave the
proper access codes to the computer and fired the transnuclear
barrage at the planet.  For a few minutes, the KobalThi tried to
escape the planet, but the horrible imploding effect of transnuclear
detonations sucked them back in as a shock wave blew out from
the planet.  The two waves met, crossed and resulted in a massive
implosion.  Then, the material rebounded, and transnuclear fallout
took the place of what once was a planet.  The Geiger scanners on
the ship began to chatter as they counted the amount of radiation
was released.

    “Scan for anything that could have carried a person inside it.”

    “There is plenty of ship debris,” the frozen voice of the Science
officer reports.  “But it’s all less than two centimeters in width on
any axis.  Most of it shows not transnuclear damage, but impact
and entry damage.  The ships broke up in atmospheric entry. 
Nothing even struck the surface.

    “Mark this system with a proper funerary beacon and drop a
funeral flag,” Astrid commands.

    And some time later, the test ended...  Astrid opened her eyes
from the few seconds of recollection.  The officers all understood
the idea of the test.  It had been a test of loyalty, right down to the
last.  Loyalty could be seen when the Second in Command argued
the Captain’s point for her.  It was to keep disloyalty contained to
the lower ranks and all of the complaints could then be voiced to
him and not the Captain.  A form of protection.  Loyalty could be
seen as the Science officer finally agreed with the Second in
Command.  In the actions of the officers, despite the risks.  In their
concern for the simulated crew of their Vanguard-class vessel.

    They needed a casual meeting to get their minds off the bleak
end of the test sequence and onto the more upbeat note of the
beginning of a new mission aboard a new ship.

    MacHaley spotted Astrid.  Briskly, he walked to her and took
her by the hand.

    “Come join us, Captain,” he smiled.

    Astrid let herself be led toward the group of officers. 
Apparently, that was the last test of loyalty anyone ever needed. 
The officers introduced themselves to Astrid, and she became
familiar with them, and hours later, she realized that none of them
ever held the last attack against her.  That part of loyalty,
understanding and forgiving was shown to Astrid.  In the test, she
had these people to follow her.  Now they had her to follow.

    As they got to know each other, for once, Edlyn Victoria Astrid
began to feel like a normal person, accepted by other people for
who she was, not what she did.  She pulled out the penny Raimirez
had given her and looked at again.  The motto was still stamped
there, both of them actually, in the surface of the coin.  “In God
We Trust,” and “E. pluribus, unum.”

    The test had succeeded in teaching both.  First, by trusting the
others and trusting in God, Astrid realized that she was here for a
purpose, and that she had to be loyal to herself and the others. 
Second, that by commanding a team of officers who followed her
orders, they fought an enemy that tried to divide them.  They
battled against something that tried to separate the many, but their
loyalty bound them together.  They became as one unit, not as
many officers, but as a single crew.

    There would be tests to come, but this one was the most
important one of all.