Tila Vasquez ran through the gleaming corridors of the brand new colony ship Rising Star with the intense focus and careless abandon that only an eight-year-old girl can muster.

The one-eyed head of her stuffed bear, along for the ride, rocked back and forth with every footstep. Its threadbare mouth fixed in a perpetually bemused expression.

Tila danced between adult legs which were a forest of sharply pressed uniforms, crisp and spotless. A sparse canopy of clipboards and portable computers shielded her from the twin tracks of lighting recessed into the ceiling as she ran on toward the bridge.

Near an elevator, she waited for adults to press the call button, and pretended she was there for something else. When the car arrived, and busy, distracted officers shuffled in and out, she snuck in and rode the car to the bridge level.

Success!

This particular elevator did not open directly onto the bridge. When the doors parted and the crew disembarked, Tila stood alone in the middle of the square floor. She walked to the door and peeked left. All clear. She peeked right and came face to face with a uniform. She followed the buttons of the shirt up to the face of a Rising Star's security officer.

'Hi?' said Tila.

He folded his arms and waited.

She considered her options. They were few and she was small, but she had one powerful weapon which never failed. Tila smiled her biggest, warmest smile and gave him a little wave. Thinking this might help her case, she raised the toy bear and wiggled a stuffed arm so the bear waved too.

'Hello again, Tila,' he said.

It always worked on her father, anyway. Her mother seemed to be immune to it. Tila leaned sideways to look past him. Behind him were the bridge doors.

'I still can't let you in, you know that.'

'I want to see,' she pleaded. Maybe pity would work? She pouted and made a sad face.

'I'm sorry Tila, no. I can't let you through that door.'

"My mother is in there. You have to let me in."

"I know who your mother is, and that's exactly why I can't let you in."

The bear stopped waving.

'Everyone tells me no,' she grumbled.

'That's something you're going to have to get used to.'

'I'll be quick! I won't make a noise,' Tila promised.

'No, Tila. You are not getting on this bridge through that door.' He pointed at the elevator, backed her into it, and pressed a button.

He watched the doors close on a grumpy, determined little face, and held in a smile. He had been on the ship long enough to get to know this child and her family, but this was a critical time, and she was not getting past him today.

Tila glared at the guard as the doors closed to separate them. He had his duties to perform, but he clearly didn't understand she needed to be on the bridge . Grown ups never understood what was important.

"One day I'll be big enough to make you let me in," she grumbled to herself.

They were never careful with their words either. He had been clear she wasn't getting on the bridge through the door he guarded. He thought that was a statement of fact; Unassailable, immovable, concrete.

Tila heard the words differently. They were a challenge. Getting through that particular door wasn't the real goal. The real goal was to get on to the bridge, and there was more than one way in.

It was always important to understand the real goal.

The elevator doors opened again and Tila found herself back where she started. The corridor was much quieter now. The moment they had all been waiting for was almost upon them, so the crew was taking final positions.

She stood in the empty corridor and looked around. The elevator doors closed behind her. Tila looked left and right along newly constructed passageways that branched and branched again through the maze that was the Rising Star. The passageways led to every corner of the ship; to living quarters, recreation areas, medical centres. There were homes for science teams of all kinds, and if Tila had cared about her science lessons she would have remembered what they were. Physics and stars and...something, but they were boring somethings.

Elsewhere were the docking bays, engineering systems, greenhouses, water recycling (gross) and the hundred other departments, systems and teams that the Rising Star needed to take care of the ship and her crew during their mission. There was a lot to do, and a lot to maintain.

Her eyes flicked up to the maintenance hatch in the ceiling, between the twin track lighting. It was far too high for her to reach, obviously, but she had seen techs removing wall panels before.

Still looking up, Tila pressed one of the panels on the wall with her foot. Nothing moved. She pressed with her hand, following the seam with her fingertips until she felt something give in an upper corner. She turned her full attention to the panel. One corner wobbled but stayed in place. If she pressed both upper corners at once, however...

Once the first panel was free, Tila used it to reach and remove one in the upper part of the wall. She climbed up, pulling herself higher by holding on to the frame and pipework inside. She didn't pull on the bundles of cables and fibre optic wiring hidden behind the wall, experience had taught her to avoid those. People would shout at her, and her mother would look disappointed.

Once she was at the top of the wall she could touch the ceiling. The latch to open the maintenance hatch was within reach, just, but it was designed for stronger fingers than hers. No matter how hard she pulled, it wouldn't release.

Tila frowned. She checked the distance from her perch to the floor and judged it good enough for her plan. Tila tucked her bear into the wall opening, reached for the latch with both hands, and jumped.

Her full weight released the latch. Tila swung down with a shriek as the hatch opened. She lost her grip and dropped to the floor and rolled into the wall. She stood up, grinning to herself at her success, and climbed up once more.

It still wasn't easy. The hatch was open now, but she was still just a child climbing a wall. A maintenance crew would be taller or have a ladder. Tila didn't know where the ladders were so she would have to make do with what she had, which today was a bear, lots of experience in being told 'get down', and a deadline.

The bear she threw into the opening. It was a big hatch and a small bear, and it flopped up over the rim of the hatch and went in. At this distance even Tila couldn't miss.

Then she leaned out from the wall. Her right hand tightly to the frame behind her. Her left hand stretched out to grab hold of the lip of the maintenance opening. Her head bumped along the ceiling as she sought purchase she couldn't find.

The latch had been flush with the ceiling and within her reach. The lip of the hatch was recessed. Her fingers explored the rim but she could only make out the edge inside with her fingertips. It was too far away for her to get a proper grip.

Tila edged her right hand higher on the wall frame and adjusted her grip there as much as she dared. Tongue out, she braced her feet against the wall, let go of the frame, and jumped.

Her left hand stretched and grabbed and held, and Tila swing from the ceiling hatch with a huge grin on her face, proud of her success and daring. She took hold with her right hand too, and with much wriggling and kicking and scrambling, pulled herself up into the crawlspace.

On the bridge, Captain Grace Vasquez turned to one of the two view screens which provided Rising Star with direct communication to her two sister ships, Far Horizon and New Dawn. The captain stood tall and straight, smartly dressed in her crisp white uniform. Her long dark hair was tied back in a tight braid with not a single strand out of place.

On the view screen showing her the bridge of the Far Horizon, the captain watched a man bent low over a console, as he concentrated on something inscrutable. He rested his chin in his hands and his elbows on the desk as he considered the results of the tenth simulation he had performed that morning. His brow furrowed as he read the numbers again, as if further examination could change the calculated outcome.

The captain tapped a control to switch the scene from a wide shot of the other bridge to the personal camera on the man's console.

She knew he was running calculations again.

'How are we looking, Professor?' she asked.

He didn't look up from his screen but took advantage of the distraction to flex the stress from his shoulders before answering her.

'I think it's going to work.'

The captain replied in a tone of mock horror. 'You think? Is that the best you can do? After years of planning and the trillions this mission cost? You think?'

The man looked directly into the camera, as if into the eyes of the woman in charge of his destiny. His own eyes twinkled. He knew he was fretting over nothing. 'As always, Grace, you're more than welcome to come over here and check my figures.'

'Love to. Can't. Too busy.' She made a show of checking her own console before a smile broke across her face.

He smiled back. 'So we'll stick with my best guess, shall we? It is going to work, you know.'

'I know. You wouldn't dare give the mission commander the green light unless you were sure.'

'Not her, and especially not my wife,' he winked.

'I should hope not, Thomas!' She bent over the console and wiggled the fingers of her left hand at the camera. Light flashed from the slim gold band around her finger. She blew him a kiss.

He recoiled in pretend shock. 'Grace! Not in front of the crew!'

Grace grinned and stood tall once more and clasped her hands behind her back. 'Attention all bridge crew! Anybody wishing to make a formal complaint about their captain's conduct on the bridge with her civilian husband while we are still in Commonwealth space should address their concerns to the XO. I will give your concerns my utmost attention when our mission here is complete. Is that understood?'

Her executive officer, a lean wiry man with cropped grey hair and a face so stern that people, assumed upon first meeting him, assumed he had never heard of a sense of humour, spoke up.

He said, 'Captain, by the time our mission is complete we will no longer be under the jurisdiction of any Commonwealth systems.'

'Now, now, Emest, protocol must still be followed.'

He kept his face perfectly straight, masking the smile that danced behind his eyes. Grace had worked with her XO long enough to appreciate his subtle humour first hand, and respect that he could switch to deadly serious when the situation demanded.

It was just one of the many reasons she had selected him to be her first officer on this mission.

'Yes, ma'am. I also believe that all bridge officers and crew are performing their duties to the best of their abilities and will be unlikely to report any...uh... fraternising at this time, ma'am.'

'Understood. Carry on.'

Her husband pointed at something behind her that only he could see on the monitor. 'Maybe your bridge crew won't cause us any trouble, but I think I see someone who might.'

'Oh dear. Do you think it's the troublemaker we caught spying on us over breakfast this morning?' she whispered conspiratorially without turning around.

'I do. And I'm beginning to have concerns about the security on your flagship when anyone can just waltz onto the bridge when they feel like it. Don't you have a guard on the door?'

"I do, but that never stopped her before."

Grace turned around to see a dark haired little girl watching from the viewing gallery.

The girl was searching the room for someone but struggling to locate them in the expanse of the busy command deck. Behind her stood a master-at-arms who, helpless in the face of a child to whom the word no rarely worked, shrugged at the captain, and snapped out a salute.

The girl's small face pressed against the glass partition. Her quick, excited breaths fogged the cold surface. At last she found who she was looking for and waved at the captain. Then she raised a stuffed animal above her head and wiggled its paw in greeting as well.

'Security!' said the captain. 'Please stop indulging my daughter.'

Tila rode an elevator down to the main bridge level to join her mother. Grace met her at the door with her hands on her hips and barred her way. 'Now you know you shouldn't be up here, young lady,' she said. A smile took the edge off her stern tone. This was her daughter, after all, and this was a big day for everyone. 'Your father is very busy right now. His work is nearly finished.'

'I wanted to see,' Tila pleaded. She looked like a miniature copy of her mother apart from her hair. Where Grace's hair was neatness and military discipline, Tila's hair has billowed behind her during her run and was now plastered all over her face. The effect was also spoilt somewhat by the bear hanging from her hand. 'Hi, Daddy!' She waved vigorously at her father's image.

Her father waved back. 'Hello, princess. You're going to be good like we discussed and stay out of trouble, aren't you?'

Tila nodded absently and wobbled on the points of her toes as she tried to get a better view of the control room. She pawed stray locks of hair from her eyes.

'It's boring back there,' she said.

Her mother stepped away from her work and knelt beside Tila. She smoothed her palms across her daughter's face to part the remaining hairs and finger-combed them back into place.

'Soon it won't be boring,' she promised. 'But for the moment, you have to watch the jump from the gallery with the other children. And you will have a much better view of the stars from the observation dome there.'

On the Far Horizon a technician apologetically ahemed his way to her husband's side. 'I'm sorry, sir, but it's time.'

Thomas Vasquez nodded. 'Time to go now, princess,' he said to his daughter.

The same aide exchanged more words with the captain of the Far Horizon then spoke into a communicator clipped to his uniform, 'All stations commence final preparations.'

Orange hazard lights sprang to life on the Far Horizon's bridge, and simultaneously on the bridges of the New Dawn and Rising Star. An artificial voice announced, 'Time is minus ten minutes to jump. Repeat. T minus ten minutes.'

'I'll see you both on the other side,' Thomas said to his family.

Tila pouted, but despite the tiny frown that wrinkled her forehead, her sulkiness was not heartfelt.

Her mother kissed it away. 'Come on now, off you go.' Tila held up her stuffed animal for a kiss too. Grace smiled and kissed the toy to indulge her daughter one last time.

'Be good,' she said to Tila. 'It's going to get very busy in here. You have to go now, honey.' Tila nodded. They had told her this was a very important day, and she had already promised to be on her best behaviour. Just like her mother, she kept her promises.

'Look,' added her mother, 'This will be over soon. When it is, I'll come and find you and we can find your star together. Deal?'

Her daughter gave this weighty matter serious consideration over another frown.

'Promise,' she said. It wasn't a question.

Her mother smiled at the way her little girl could take charge of a situation when she wanted something and wondered if she had been any different at that age. She held her daughter's chin between her finger and thumb and looked her directly in the eye. 'Tila, when this is all over, and we are far, far away from here, I will find you. I promise I will find you.'

Satisfied, Tila's held her mother's hand as they walked back to the elevator together. Grace kissed Tila on the forehead one last time, stood up and pressed the button to close the glass doors.

Sudden quiet enveloped Tila as the door seals muffled the increasing volume coming from the bridge of the colony ship.

'Promise?' she mouthed again at her mother through the glass, in case the first promise somehow didn't count.

The elevator rose swiftly and smoothly, separating them.

'I promise,' her mother mouthed back across the growing distance. She blew her daughter a final kiss as she vanished from sight.

Now the bridge crew sprang into action like a beehive under attack.

Huge screens overhead displayed mission-critical data beneath schematic outlines of the three colony ships. Below each schematic, another screen displayed a large translucent cone on the black background. The vertex sat in the lower left of the display and the base in the upper right.

The colours graduated from green at the point to red at the base. A sharp, white line sprang from the vertex to the centre of the base and wavered almost imperceptibly, like a nervous conductor before a big concert. Next to the cone, numbers flashed by too fast to read.

Below this double layer of screens a wider display spanned the bridge. On this, the images of the three cones were stacked on top of one another. Each one trembled in time with its counterpart, and as the seconds passed the trembling faded, the images aligned, and the conductor steadied and calmed.

More number sequences bordered the cones on the wide display, but all were close to zero and falling fast. As the numbers crept closer to zero, the images of the three cones sharpened until they were almost a perfect match.

On the bridge of the Far Horizon a technician addressed Tila's father. 'Sir, the quantum cores are in ascendance. We have cross-checked the stochastic simulations and we are holding at a ninety-seven per cent probability of success.'

'Margin?'

'Less than point-one-two per cent.'

Thomas spoke to his wife. 'It's not going to get any better than this, is it? What's that phrase you like so much? Now or never?'

Grace nodded. She put aside the role of wife and mother, and spoke with a captain's voice to the first officer of the ship she commanded.

'Begin final sequence for jump to Baru.'

The XO repeated the order into his console microphone. 'We have a go for jump. Repeat, we are go.'

A klaxon sounded across the bridge and the overhead screens changed to prioritise the schematic displays of the three colony ships.

Around the bridge, crew members called out checks and counter-checks in sequence. Each person finally performing for real what had been simulated a hundred times. The stations sounded off one by one, each call bringing the ships a moment closer to their destiny.

'Has fleet network been established?'

'Network is locked and coded, sir.'

'Engines?'

'Ready.'

'Jump drive is online and operating within normal parameters.'

'Gravimetric compensation is available.'

'Stochastic models have been confirmed and verified.'

'Stellar drift check?' said the XO.

'Confirmed. Stellar drift calculations have been finalised and real-time simulations are now available.'

'Rising Star mass displacement has been confirmed,' reported a technician.

'Have our sister ships confirmed final mass displacement?' said the captain.

'New Dawn mass is in. Far Horizon mass coming through. We are synchronising data among the fleet now,' the first officer answered.

'Pilot-wave generator standing by.'

'Bohr's-field construct is standing by.'

The XO turned and made his final announcement to the captain.

'Ma'am, all systems report nominal. We are ready for system jump.'

Tila's mother nodded once more. This was it. She looked to her husband on the bridge of the Far Horizon. Even now, in the seconds before they left, he was checking and rechecking calculations. Six years of planning and he was still nervous. She pressed the button to open communications to his ship, then crossed her hands behind her back.

'Are we ready?'

He swallowed, nodded and crossed his fingers.

'It's all down to luck now,' he said. 'We're as ready as we can be.'

Tila's mother squeezed her hands together and wished it was her husband's hand she held.

'You don't need luck,' she told him, then to her own bridge she gave the final order, 'Begin final sequence.'

'Now or never?' said Thomas.

'Now or never,' she replied, and smiled at her husband. 'I'll see you in fourteen light years.'