The two islands of Wengehua, one spinning, one dead, broke apart. The two pieces of the dying colony descended deeper into the gravity well of the planet Qalupalik at five times the speed of sound. Both islands were surrounded by an aura of glowing plasma as they further twisted and melted and came apart.

At first all this occurred in the absolute silence of space but as the colony fell deeper into the atmosphere it began to scream and rattle.

The colony was not designed for atmospheric re-entry, never intended to ever leave orbit. It wasn't properly thermally shielded. The atmosphere inside quickly reached deadly temperatures. Anything left living in the colony boiled alive.

One by one the distress signals winked out was each individual voice was silenced.

Decker and Ophelia watched from their ship in silent horror.

"What can we do?" asked Decker, as though he genuinely expected an answer. "What can we do?"

"I don't think there's anything we can do," said Ophelia, uncharacteristically grim.

Most of the distress signals were gone now. It was much easier to distinguish between them.

"Hey," said Ophelia, obviously still communing with the ship, "One of those distress signals has an A.R.C. signature. And the codes are authentic.

"Contact?" asked Decker.

"They're not responding," said Ophelia, "but I've traced the origin."

<Bob,> she signaled, <I'm going to throw you some local coordinates. I need you to get us there on AG only, no torch drive.>

<Ooh I see what you're after. Roger wilco, Ranger, gentle like still waters.>

Ever so carefully the Don't Tempt Me carefully dragged itself forward through the chaos through precise manipulation of AG. As the ship came closer to the source of the A.R.C. signed signal Ophelia could see the outline of a Suit through the ship's sensors.

"There's definitely a human in a Suit out there," Ophelia told Decker.

"What do you think, displacement?" asked Decker.

"There really aren't any other options," agreed Ophelia. "Better a slim chance than none at all."

<This is close enough,> she told Bob. <Remain absolutely still.>

<Not my specialty but have no doubt that I will do it perfectly. Or not do it, I suppose.>

Displacement was dangerous enough, it didn't need the added hazard of not using markers and trying to move the interstellar medium into a pressurized ship. A pressurized ship half-filled with water. Neither Decker nor Ophelia was confident in the plan but neither could bring themselves to do nothing.

Ophelia's eyes grew glassy and distant as she plunged herself deeper into the ship's systems. She focused on the Suit, on a bubble of space/time surrounding the Suit. Then, holding the image of the first bubble in her mind's eye, she selected a bubble of space/time within the ship and made the swap. The two locations in space and time snapped into one another's position.

A sphere of atmosphere was blasted into space, and the ship's systems immediately compensated. Normalized pressure was restored in less than a minute. There was no sign of any severed limbs or other bits and pieces where the Suit used to be.

So far so good.

"Where'd you put 'em?" asked Decker.

"Crew Quarters C, since the medical bay and all the cargo space are underwater," said Ophelia.

"Not a lot of space in there. Hopefully you didn't materialize them inside anything."

"It's not a big ship, Sam!" snapped Ophelia.

* * *

The Suit detected subtle shifts in the local space/time that portended an impending displacement. This was either very good or very bad. Either way there was no viable way to influence the outcome. It would wait and see what happened.

One moment it was floating through space, in danger of tipping into the gravity well of Qalupalik. The next moment it was inside of a room. It materialized in the air and dropped onto a bed with such force that the bed collapsed.

A cursory scan identified it was inside a Partisan-class Escort, the class ship favored by A.R.C. Rangers as personal vessels.

So far, so good.

The Suit considered retreating into hyperspace to affect repairs, but decided against it. It needed to be sure that Ranger Weier Gagnon was safe first.

* * *

Decker and Ophelia found the Suit laying in the ruins of what was once a bed. It bore the gold and white coloring of the Empyrean Chalice and wore a tattered grey mess that might once have been a white cloak.

"Hello?" asked Decker.

There was no answer.

<Hello?> Ophelia tried.

Nothing.

"What about the Suit?" asked Ophelia.

<Suit,> thought Decker, and his own Suit slid across his body. Ophelia's did the same.

<Can you talk to the other Suit?> Decker asked.

<Certainly,> replied the Suit, cheerily, <I just need a point of physical contact.>

Decker nodded to Ophelia and the two rangers walked over to the bed. They placed their hands on either side of the Suit's head.

<Hello?> thought Decker. Through the direct contact his own Suit relayed the message to the other Suit.

<Hello! Yes!> exclaimed the other Suit. <Who is this?>

Decker's Suit communed with its fellow and conveyed in an instant their identity.

<This is a relief,> signaled the Suit. <I am badly damaged and must repair but my wearer is near death. Do you have the facilities to help him if I were to retreat into hyperspace?>

<Our medical bay is underwater,> admitted Ophelia.

<Isn't he deathwarded?> asked Decker.

<He is,> replied the Suit, <but deathward or no I am not in the habit of allowing my wearers to die if I can help it.>

<We'll do everything we can,> Ophelia promised.

The Suit thought for a fraction of a fraction of a second.

<I trust you,> it signaled, finally.

The Suit unwrapped itself and slid back into the higher dimensions, leaving behind a battered and unconscious human male. Many of his bones were obviously broken, and without the Suit to hold them in place his limbs hung at odd angles. He did not appear to be alive at first glance.

Ophelia had her Suit begin running medical scans.