“A shuttle has been dispatched from the surface carrying the part you requested,” Captain Brown told Miliam. This time they were speaking on a voice-only line per his request, so Miliam had chosen to take the call in her quarters. “It will dock with your vessel and hand off the component at your airlock. Your crew will not be permitted to board the shuttle at any time. That should conclude your business here, so you are expected to depart as soon as your repairs are completed.”

Miliam couldn’t imagine why he thought they’d want to board the shuttle, but maybe he didn’t in the first place and it was just another power play. Brown seemed like the type of man that wanted authority just to feel superior to others.

“Gladly. May I make one final request before we leave, though? I’d like a record of the church’s history- the true story of the prophet, rather than the version influenced by secular sources that I was taught at home,” Miliam asked, choosing her words carefully. It was her only chance to get their account of Isaiah’s early life and potentially figure out if he had any connection to Zachary.

Brown was silent for a time before answering, only the text on her display telling Miliam the call hadn’t been unceremoniously dropped from his end. “That can be arranged. Perhaps you may serve to carry his words to the nonbelievers. I will have the texts transmitted to your ship shortly.”

As if to avoid any further requests, Brown did end the call when he finished speaking this time. Miliam leaned back in her seat and took a deep breath, glad to be finished with this whole affair. The final notification regarding their departure could be left to the twins, so her part in it was done. She zoned out for a few minutes, trying not to think too much about anything, but was roused when she got a message informing her of an incoming transmission.

Data only. This was it. Miliam acknowledged the transmission and downloaded the digital texts to her grimoire. It was nearly instant, but she held off on opening it just yet- first she needed to send instructions to her crew regarding the shuttle coming their way, so she tapped the button that would activate the ship-wide intercom.

“I just received word from Captain Brown that a shuttle is on its way with the part we need. Tessa, meet them at the airlock and accept the delivery, please. Don’t let anyone onboard; break the connection to their ship if they try to force it. Everyone else, steer clear of the lower level until the handover is complete. That’s all I’ve got,” Miliam announced, injecting some energy into her voice so as not to sound as drained as she felt.

With that done, Miliam opened up the books she’d been sent. The first was a copy of the Isaiaite holy text. She skipped that one for now; anything it contained was likely to be pure fiction. Instead she went for the history books. There were several, each covering a century or so of events and published by the church itself. That was unsurprising to say the least; it was probably the only version the church even allowed in circulation.

Time passed as she read through the first chapter. Rather than assuaging her fears, though, the book only increased Miliam’s frustration. She was ready to give up when someone buzzed the intercom on the door to her quarters. Closing out of the textbook, she toggled the intercom from her grimoire, allowing her to speak to whoever was outside.

“Who is it?”

“Abigail.”

Miliam went ahead and opened the door remotely, beckoning the scholar in. “Did you need something?”

“Not as such. I hope I did not interrupt anything?” Abigail asked, noticing Miliam was seated at her desk. Miliam shook her head and gestured at her grimoire.

“I was just wrapping up anyway. I was hoping I could figure out if Isaiah and Zachary are the same person by looking through the church’s history, but this is straight up mythology. Supposedly this guy one-upped Jesus by being born without a mother at all, had the wisdom of an elder by the time he could speak, and was leading his congregation in prayer by elementary school,” Miliam complained with a scowl.

“Sadly I cannot even feign surprise. I had expected as much,” Abigail replied. The conversation, if it could be called one, died for a few seconds before Miliam spoke up.

“So what did you want to talk to me about? You’ve never come up to my room before, so I’m not buying that it’s nothing,” Miliam asked, fiddling with her grimoire. Abigail smiled briefly before replying.

“Indeed. One of the twins, Eun-ji I believe, bade me speak to you. She did not elaborate, merely implied that you may need a confidante. I must admit to being perplexed, as I would have expected Aoibhe to fill that role,” she explained with a raised eyebrow. Miliam groaned and rubbed her forehead.

“Yeah, well, she’s kind of the problem,” she admitted, glancing at Abigail to gauge her reaction. She wasn’t sure how much she should say given the history between the two. “You don’t look surprised.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“I might have a hypothesis as to where the issue lies, yes. I am unsure whether I should share this information, but perhaps the situation demands it. We…had a discussion in which I addressed her overprotectiveness towards you some time ago. I believed she had accepted my critique, but change does not always come easily,” Abigail explained, crossing her arms.

“Her comments did stop. But she stepped in to give an order before I could, solely to…I don’t know, keep me from feeling guilty over it, I guess. It was demeaning. And pointless, because I’m still the one who put us in that position in the first place. Whether I gave the final order doesn’t really matter,” Miliam spilled, eyes on her grimoire. She wasn’t reading anything on it, just watching it turn over and over in her hands.

“May I inquire as to the circumstances?” Abigail asked politely.

“I decided the lives and safety of my crew were more important to me than the lives of an unknown number of strangers- even if the potential dangers were hypothetical. I won’t make any excuses about it. They weren’t entirely innocent, but they didn’t deserve to die.” As she finished, Miliam shrugged. Truthfully, it didn’t feel real even now. She hadn’t seen any bodies, so it was startlingly difficult to convince herself she’d killed people.

“I will admit that I am…perhaps incapable of processing the form of emotion you feel currently. Death has ever had little impact upon me. My only suggestion would be to focus less on what has happened, which cannot be changed, and more on what you wish to do next time. Would you make the same choice? Or find a different way?” Abigail leaned against the wall, looking away from Miliam.

“It’s not that simple,” Miliam replied sullenly. “I can’t let my idealism or my morality put the people I’m responsible for in danger.”

“You cannot? Is that truly what is expected of you by others, or merely by yourself? Do you believe even a single member of your crew would fault you for placing them in danger to spare innocents? I do not presume them to be so selfish,” Abigail said evenly.

“Maybe not. I just don’t know if I could forgive myself if someone I know got hurt because of it,” Miliam said, setting her grimoire down and leaning back, propping her chair up on two legs. “And I might be just a little afraid that if I choose differently next time, I’ll regret what I did this time for the rest of my life.”

“A conundrum, to be sure. But mayhap it would behoove you to ask their counsel first in the future. You are not a monolith and need not bear all hardship upon yourself by virtue of your position,” the scholar advised, red eyes seeming to pierce through Miliam.

“That just sounds like…shifting the responsibility onto someone else,” she argued.

“You need not take their words as instruction nor put it to a vote. All you need do is inquire as to whether they would be opposed to accepting a more dangerous course of action in the name of helping others. Knowing how they feel would, if naught else, allow you to make choices based upon their feelings rather than your sense of guardianship over them. After all, is that not the source of your quarrel with Aoibhe?” Abigail asked with a raised eyebrow.

“So…you’re saying I’m being a hypocrite by doing the same thing for the crew as Aoibhe did for me,” concluded Miliam, trying to keep any defensiveness out of her voice.

“In a sense. Her case is more pathological, however, while you are responsible for your crew. I make such a comparison only because it may provide insight into her motivations should you desire it, not as a means of shaming you,” Abigail elaborated.

“I’ll think about it. But it’s hard for me to tell if you’re trying to defend her or giving advice when I know what kind of relationship you have with her,” Miliam said, watching Abigail out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t mean it as an attack, but the conflict of interest was clear.

“If I were incapable of separating my feelings from my judgement my life would be a shambles, but I take your point,” Abigail acknowledged with a nod. At that moment Miliam’s intercom chimed again, and seeing as how she already had company anyway, she went ahead and opened the door. Engineer strode in, taking a brief moment to glance around before looking towards Abigail and Miliam.

“Uh…hey. Did you need something?” Miliam asked. Telling her the repairs were complete could be done over the comms, so she assumed they were here for something else.

“Repairs. Complete,” the enigmatic dragonewt reported before tilting their head to the side. “Upset?”

“Thanks for letting me know. Don’t worry about me, though, I’ll be fine,” Miliam replied with a strained smile. Engineer stared for several more moments, making Miliam more perplexed by the second, before suddenly flaring their wings out. For the first time Miliam had a clear view of Engineer’s destroyed wings- the membranes had been stripped entirely, leaving only thin sheathes of skin surrounding bony support structures remaining. Like a bat skeleton.

“Some divides…permanent.” Engineer snapped their wings shut and pressed them against their back again. “Not all.” With those words said, they spun around and toddled out of the room, leaving Miliam and Abigail staring in bewilderment.

“Someday I’m going to figure that one out, but…not today,” Miliam muttered once the door closed.

“I believe they meant to tell you your relationship with Aoibhe is not yet unsalvageable,” Abigail stated.

“I got that much,” Miliam replied, rolling her eyes. “What I’m not sure about is where they even heard about it. I know it’s a small ship, but Engineer really only talks to Tessa, and Aoibhe finds her a bit overwhelming.”

“That…is an excellent question, indeed. But perhaps they simply overhear more than you had assumed,” Abigail suggested.

“Could be.” Miliam sighed deeply. “Fine, I’ll have a talk with Aoibhe, since it seems like just about everyone thinks I overreacted.”

“You did not overreact. Your feelings are entirely valid and Aoibhe is undoubtedly the one in the wrong. I believe the consensus is more that reconciliation is still possible. You may well find that Aoibhe understands her mistake and has, at last, learned her lesson in this regard,” Abigail clarified.

“I hope so. We still haven’t reached Delta Boötis yet, and the last thing we need if we have another emergency is a repeat of this at an even worse moment.”