“Dropping out in three…” Tyroya said. “Two. One.”

She pulled the stopper and brought them into realspace. The screens immediately filled up with information about their new surroundings, and there was plenty to see.

Ciinto Res was the third planet in a four-planet system. At current orbit it was relatively close to the entrance, while the fourth planet, a huge gas giant, was nearly on the other side, close to the direction the fleet would emerge from.

Tyroya’s sensors were too plain to make out details across an entire system. But the battle hadn’t started yet. Small battle fleets were spread out, ready to gather into a larger one when the blow came.

“There… it… is,” Ayna said, staring intently at Ciinto Res itself.

“There it is,” Losan repeated grimly. “The turning point.”

Saketa pointed to that far lane, visible on a starmap.

“How long would it take you to reach that one?” she asked.

“Theoretically, about ten hours, at minimum,” Tyroya said. “But I would never make it. The engine is hot and tired, and I’m only allowed this particular route. They would open fire.”

“Fine.”

Saketa had toyed with the idea of taking the simple approach and just reaching the fleet with a warning about the Exile. Plans for the battle might be rearranged, and Nara and Pietr would focus their efforts on reaching the planet and taking him out.

But there hadn’t been time to catch up with the fleet through the route it had taken, and now there wasn’t time to meet with it. It really did all come down to this; a narrow window for her to hopefully crawl through.

The final drift was that strange mixture of boring and tense; when nothing was happening but anything could. Tyroya answered a few calls with an air of routine. There was no demand for a boarding, or for them to halt. And no one had anything to say. They all simply kept watch. It was a strange feature of the human being, Saketa had noticed throughout her life; if disaster could not be fought, one at least wanted to see it coming.

Four hours passed without any change, aside from Ciinto Res growing ever larger in the cockpit window, until it completely filled the view.

“That is a lot of battle platforms,” Losan finally commented.

It really was. Tyroya’s sensors gave a hint as to the sheer scale of the defensive network the orbiting platforms formed. From what Saketa could tell, there wasn’t a single spot in the sky that a ship could descend through without passing multiple firing lines. And then there were the ships, ready to play mobile assassins alongside the brute force of the platforms.

“Does anyone else feel like holding their breath right now?” Ayna joked as the descent began.

“Well, I hope you feel like strapping in,” Tyroya said, “Since you lot are in such a rush.”

The descent was indeed rushed, and Saketa had to muster her discipline to make her stomach behave. But it came to an end, and as they set down, forty-five hours had passed since Fredrak’s prediction.

The local energies were exactly as Saketa had expected, bearing with them the long-accumulated fear and pain of an entire world. The tensions had no doubt started with the onset of the war, spiked tremendously with the invasion, and lingered on, ever-growing, as the Authority brought its own harsh form of order to the populace. Now, with the promise of invasion, the people of Ciinto Res were driven to the very edge.

At Vanaka’s behest, Tyroya got them through the security of the docks. The mesures weren’t as tight as one might have expected; smugglers and other bearers of secrets often made use of humbler ports, which were more likely to pass beneath the notice of spies and saboteurs.

The process nevertheless ate up another precious hour, as Saketa fought the temptation to simply Shift her way out of there. She couldn’t bring her allies along, and she needed them to finish this.

Whether it had to do with Tyroya’s status with the local leadership, her powers of persuasion, or just a blind spot in security protocol, they got through without being searched. Losan kept his pistol and knife under his jacket for easy access, and the rest in a travelling case. Ayna and Fredrak kept their own meagre armaments under their clothes. And Vanaka put on her armour-weave outfit, a stylish, glossy red ensemble. Saketa had to put faith in the coat keeping her sword at least somewhat hidden.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“So, is this better or worse?” Ayna asked as they finally walked freely beyond the dockyard. “From trapped to… out in the wilderness, with the beasts?”

“At least we can hide now,” Losan said.

“Mind your words from here on,” Fredrak said softly.

They were indeed among the beasts. Tyroya had set them down in her one allowed spot; that little city near the equator. It was a place of wide streets, low buildings, and gently rolling hills. Even here the Authority’s clenched fist was plain to see.

Troops guarded the dock they were leaving behind. Three armoured vehicles patrolled in formation up above, flying low enough to buzz the city with an unpleasant engine whine and leave a whoosh of air in their wake. Down on the ground a plain war bot hummed its way along a street that they sidestepped. The commercial street they took instead was little more than a row of abandoned buildings. Past those they reached a bit of a crest, and got a view over a valley area.

The sky was an odd sight. Down below was the city’s manufacturing hub, and from it rose an enormous and intense heat shimmer. It was the mark of breakneck production, with all the normal limitations taken off. It was enough to raise the temperature all over the city. Machinery was being overclocked and overheated to an unsustainable degree, and so were, no doubt, the workers trapped in that baking hell. It was the war production.

Vanaka fanned herself with both hands and Losan loosened the collar of his jacket, but no more than that. They were all concealing weapons, after all.

Everyone’s eyes were drawn away from the valley and to the north. Rising high above all the low roofs, casting its dreadful shadow over the city, was a space defence cannon. It was a towering thing; if emptied out, it could have served as a home to hundreds, even though much of its workings were hidden underground in an armoured bunker. And once the invasion hit it would make this city of workers and families into a target.

Saketa’s thoughts briefly turned to Commander Treko, the Authority’s distant, rarely seen head. Would it really have been so hard for him to simply not do all this? Did he really imagine that all this external suffering would soothe whatever scarred his spirit?

She abandoned those thoughts, recognising their similarities to those that had dogged her hunt for the Exile.

“It looks like we’re pretty alone,” Vanaka said, and leaned forward on a railing. “I suppose we’ll discuss our next step.”

“Some local currency certainly would be useful,” Losan said.

“We will take the short and simple route to that one,” Fredrak said, and turned his eyes on Ayna.

“I’ll be awake for opportunities,” the girl said.

“A proper rifle would be a boon too,” Losan commented.

“That’s… more ambitious.”

“Just be awake for those as well.”

“I don’t feel much like getting put to sleep. But… suuure.”

“But on to the main event…” Vanaka said, and turned her nervous gaze on Saketa. “Are you going to track him?”

Saketa closed her eyes.

“I will try. But I will need solitude, and quiet. And you will need to be patient with me.”

“Oh, I can be patient,” Fredrak said. “But the clock is against us.”

“I know.”

She turned to the nearest abandoned building.

“Those walls look thick. And this area looks abandoned enough for you all to be relatively safe waiting here for now.”

She walked over to it and put a hand against the wall.

“As I said, please be patient.”

She Shifted inside. The building was completely unlit, and she didn’t bother to feel her way around to get some idea of the layout. She just knelt down with the sword in her lap and got to work.

She meditated, softly fighting through the poison loose on this planet and within herself to gain clarity. The familiar obstacles were in her way, made of fear and failure and anger. She faced them down, one by one. It was not an easy fight, but she resisted the urge to hurry, treating it all like walking a tightrope over a great height. Trying to force success would only lead to that familiar plunge. It had to be one step at a time, with complete and precise control over each of her parts.

I have been a fool, she thought. Then she thought it again, and again, draining the pain out of it each time, until she could simply face it and accept it as a fact. Yes, she had been a fool to fall apart as she had, during and after the attack on Kalero. She had also been a fool to lay the groundwork for it well in advance, and for not seeking the healing she needed afterwards.

But it was alright. It was alright that she had been a fool, because she could always try to do better.

The final obstacle was the hardest, for it required more than simply honesty. It required accepting that she might not be able to do this. That she might have led her allies to their deaths, and that the Exile would indeed destroy the Sixth Fleet and change the fate of the Nearer Fringe.

It was an agonising picture. But it was a very possible one, and preventing it might be beyond her power. She faced all of this, and, slowly, she made her peace with it.

It was this acceptance, this release of tensions, that finally allowed her to see clearly. She could connect with the waves, the local energies, and with patience and focus she could sense their flow.

She stood up, walked back to the wall, and Shifted back outside.

“West. We must go west.”