Captain R. J. Collingwood looked proudly at his console. It was ablaze like a string of festival lights. He beheld a viewscreen that spanning his bow that with the twitch of his finger could focus on a match light a million leagues away. Sculpted of cold blue steel, the bridge was immaculate, ordered, and beautiful. HNS Ramilles was the most advanced ship of the fleet, but it was not fighting marauders or invading fleets, but performing picket duty around a dirty and troublesome world.

"I don't understand it," he said. "This ship is an unlikely bargain. Something must have been added to balance the deal."

"But we gave up Azor for it," said the lieutenant.

"Oh? Give up a piece of rock in a forgotten area of space for seven Astoria class cruisers? I should be so lucky in my affairs. These ships are top of the line, the latest product of Merian engineering. They surpass anything we've got. Armament, shields, sensors, speed, it excels them all. And the purpose in the bargain, cruising a planet like this one, the planet Hind, looking for smugglers, gunrunners. If this is all there is to it then the Meria has indeed gone mad."

"But this mission is important, securing our empire."

Collingwood looked down on the planet below. "Our empire! Our ancestors didn't leave Transor for this! It's only to secure some order on these fractious and decrepit worlds. The Diaspora wasn't to take this form. At first is was trade, only trade, but as the colonies fell apart, one by one, our influence expanded from trade, to governance, to empire. And now we have this role, cursed by the governed, envied and challenged by governments." His thumb pressed to his lip. "And they call these our days of glory, of empire!"

"Sir," came the voice. "We are approaching Tulac, the capital of the Hind."

"Stationary orbit, steady as you go lieutenant. This is novel for us. These people are actually starting to behave a bit reasonably. Let's not ruin their fever of virtue by visiting them, shall we?"

"So the Hind have all of a sudden got religion?" asked the lieutenant.

"Got religions is the word. Without law their superstitions sufficed, to keep the status quo, barbarism became a mandate from their gods. Ritual suicide, immolations, annual treks to perilous mountain tops mandated by their spirits and sprites. A little decency and empathy was not in their stripes, save of course the impossible hope that death would bring: eternal relief in a vacation house, spring water and fruit, and bountiful cows. An economy based on myth, at least in ours we can eat and sleep in comfort while we wait for our dreams to come true. Sadly for them, it's not food for dreams, but dreams instead of food."

"But have you read the reports, captain? They really have got religion, a new one it seems. It's happened only recently. A series of miracles wrought by a new prophet, and the third and final one is due today."

Collingwood nodded. "Which I suppose is why my orders have seconded my intuition. Visit them, and they will see our hand in their affairs. Unfortunately though, I doubt we can witness their delusion from so high a perch. It should be quite a show, and lightning quick, or at least so goes the prophecy."

"Prophecy?" asked the lieutenant.

"Yes, he was their founder god, an unassuming sort really. Made the universe in six days, then took a nap. It gave the others their opportunity, their chance to shine in the sun."

"Others?"

"Gods, other gods. The pantheon was filled while the founder slept. He protested of course, no gods before me! But it was too late. They were all over the place by then, a sort of divine crab grass. Or at least so goes the tale. Well now 'He' is back, with rules, and redemption, and miracles, and a vengeance. And I'm supposed to register this all from a thousand leagues high!"

"Register?"

"The miracle of course. They all swear by the earlier ones, the moving of mountains, earthquakes, healings, that sort of thing. This one should be special, almost astronomical. Their prophet is supposed to ascend into heaven today, like a lightning bolt."

"In other words, captain, you are here to record nothing."

"Yes. Although I may add that many will see something in nothing. It's a matter of faith I believe. "

"And so we wait."

"Yes."

__________________________

Collingwood enjoyed his morning tea. His command chair he felt was like a throne on a balcony that opened to a boundless vista of the universe. It was the aspect of command he enjoyed most, taking him away from mundane affairs, casting him into a starry sky as serene and beautiful as the endless sea.

Then, a flash, it was too quick to register. It was like lightning, the instruments told. Collingwood toggled a switch on his console. "Science officer, what happened? My instruments are lighting up like ornaments."

"Sir," came the voice. "We picked it up on all sensors. That wasn't a streak of light, or a miracle. That was a ship!"

"Near the site of our miracle?"

"Precisely above it."

He turned to the screen. "I see nothing. Do we have sensor readings."

"No sir, nothing." Said the lieutenant. "It seems to have disappeared once it hit high orbit."

"What was its size."

"No larger than a standard shuttle. It was too small to break orbit by our technology."

"Then it's here or hiding." At once Collingwood turned to his crew. "Battle stations now! I want a full spread of plasma torpedoes at the last mark of that apparition."

"Sir!" said the lieutenant. "That won't do anything. We have no idea where it is."

"But it will light up the place for a millisecond. If it's deflecting my sensors, I'll overwhelm his. I want to take a better look at him!"

The ship shuddered slightly. The torpedoes left the ship like silent beacons. "On my mark, fifty seconds and they'll be where I want them!"

"Now!"

At the command, the missiles exploded. The crew beheld silent, instantaneous starbursts of light, then darkness.

"Put these pictures through analysis. Have our AI examine every inch of it. I want results in ten minutes. Lieutenant, I want full acceleration, take me to that place. I want to see what we missed."

In a few minutes, the Ramilles was where the ship had vanished. There was nothing. Colingwood was unperturbed. "I expected as much. Lieutenant, take over my chair. I'll be in my ready room."

Lieutenant Bartles, the science officer was there. The table was spread with photographs, and on them were outlines, marks, and vectors.

"Captain Collingwood, you must see this!"

He pointed to a small form scarcely illuminated, but the markings had not been seen since…. Collingwood looked at Bartles in amazement. "My God man, they're here!"