“Chrys, get me some serious EM on the hull and hail whoever the hell’s firing on us,” I yell as I run to the bridge.

“Electromagnetic shielding system operating at maximum values,” Chrys answers.

“C-CIL, I need you on navigation,” I call over my shoulder. “Scan the area. Look for the nearest solid body with a dock.” He’s behind me one second and past me the next, practically in the nav chair before I even make it over the threshold of the bridge.

“Unknown vessel, hold your fire!” I yell as I light up the display panels at tactical. But the ship shakes with a second hit. Either they didn’t hear me, or the more likely option, they don’t care.

“Stand down, damn it!” I pull up the targeting system and check the plasma levels. Diverting anything from the engine is a last resort, but it never hurts to have a backup plan.

“Chrys, let’s go with photons first but get the Viper online just in case,” I say. “They wanna play, let’s play.”

“Photonic weapons system active.”

“C-CIL, what do we got on the radar?” I shout across the bridge.

“Captain, there is one vessel heading—”

“Thanks! Chrys, get me a target lock on that vessel.” I don’t bother waiting for lock confirmation before firing the first series of photon bursts. Hopefully that gets through to them. I wait a minute before making my next move. Let them think about whether picking a fight is worth the damage to their own ship.

“Unknown vessel, respond or prepare to take more fire,” I say, hoping they’re finally ready to talk. The bridge is quiet. There’s no answer from the other vessel and no more shots rock our ship. Have they given up already? I wait, for a hail, for a hit. But nothing happens.

“Unknown vessel, respond.”

Nothing.

I sigh in frustration. When it comes down to it I’m not really prepared to keep firing unless they give me a reason to.

“Talk to me, C-CIL,” I say after a minute or two of silent waiting. “You find us anywhere to lay anchor and clean up our wounds?”

“Captain, I have identified a planet known as Pajorat Prime that will take us approximately 2 hours to reach at our current rate of travel.”

“Sounds good. Adjust course.”

Pajorat Prime it is.

C-CIL nods back at me from the nav chair. I can tell he’s enjoying himself. He’s thriving under the pressure of his newfound responsibilities on the bridge. I’m just glad to have someone I feel like I can trust.

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“What about our trigger-happy friend?” I ask.

“The vessel appears to have changed their heading. They are moving away from us.”

I let out a sigh of relief. It’s weird that they’d attack without telling us what they want and back down with barely a fight. But I’m not about to question my luck. If it is luck. For now, I’m satisfied to take a breath and enjoy the easy win.

C-CIL and I sit in silence. I’m half waiting for the ship to come back and start firing on us again, but the only interruption is Chrys letting us know we’ve taken some minor hull damage. That reminds me, I should probably check the primary engine system for leaks when we set down at Pajorat. After all, Chrys won’t necessarily have picked it up right away what with that engine pretty much sitting idle at present. I’m working through my mental to-do list when a voice from behind startles me.

“Captain.” I turn to see Byer in the doorway of the bridge. “May I have a word?”

“Sure,” I say. But I make no move to get up. If there’s something he wants to say in private, he’s going to have to pick a different time. I can see Shae peeking out from behind him. She’s curious to see what’s going on, I know, but she, at least, has a healthier fear of getting in the way than some other people.

Byer’s face hardens as he looks back at me. I can only assume he’s annoyed by my unwillingness to indulge him by leaving the bridge.

“Don’t you think that some of these course adjustments should be discussed with the rest of the crew?” he asks.

I furrow my brow. He doesn’t really think I consider him part of the crew, does he? All he does is mope around and—well, that’s pretty much it as far as I know. God knows what he does with all of his time onboard. C-CIL’s the only one who’s actually contributing to the functioning of this ship, and I’ve already made it clear that I take his input seriously. So what’s Byer trying to get at here? I take a hard look at him, trying to read his expression, trying to will my way into his mind. He’s got that look in his eye, that cold dull gleam that tells me I’m not going to like what he says next. I know I’m more likely to walk into his trap if I respond, so instead I sit silently, waiting for him to speak again.

“I mean, just because they’re stuck in quarantine, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t hear what they have to say,” he says, folding his arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Right, Captain?”

And there it is.

Whatever else he is, he’s smart. I’ve been so caught up in everything going on, I forgot about my invisible crew living in the land of make-believe. And now he’s reminded everyone that I’m a liar. And that maybe after all this, I’m the one who can’t be trusted.

“If you think I’m wrong, just say so,” I say, gritting my teeth as I stare back at him with contempt.

“I think you’re wrong,” his reply comes without a moment’s hesitation.

“Maybe I am wrong,” I spit back. “Is that what you want to hear?” it comes out louder than intended, but I make no attempt to lower my voice. “Maybe I’m just some stupid kid who has no idea what she’s doing. Maybe this decision and every other decision I make is a mistake. What do you want me to do? You want me to hand you the keys?” I can hear myself yelling, feel Shae and C-CIL staring, but I don’t care. I’m angry. I’m so angry, and I’m so sick of all this bullshit. I’m probably in way over my head, I know that. But what choice do I have?

“All I’m saying,” Byer says calmly, measuredly, “is that your decisions, your actions, they all come with consequences, and—”

“I know!” I shout. “I’m living with those consequences!” I watch his face change as the words register, taking a second to sink in and then hitting him like a fist landing a blow.

That was a shit thing to say. And it doesn’t matter how I meant it, though I’m sure that in that moment, he knew exactly how I meant it.

Byer holds my gaze for a minute before dropping his arms to his sides, as if giving up. He shakes his head and turns to leave but stops short.

“Captain, I’m not asking you to change your mind. But I will ask you to think about one thing,” he says. I clear my throat and give him a small nod. Go ahead and say what you have to say.

“If you wanted to get a ship to go to Pajorat Prime without revealing that was your intention, what would you do?”