“Where the hell did they find a Precursor ship?”

Ess Peon shrugged helplessly. “I’m still piecing things together, but it seems they spoke to Athena. She’s the one who clued them in.”

“And you’re positive it’s Remi and Samara?” Rúna asked the Avatar.

“As near as anyone can tell,” she assured them. “Samara, Remi, and his crew are nowhere to be found, not since the ship departed New Terran space.”

“Wait a minute… we’ve been surveying the system since Day 1,” Genvass objected. “There was no sign of a ship anywhere within the system.”

“Turns out there’s a hidden base on one of the moons, deep underground,” Ess said unhappily. “It’s heavily shielded, which explains how we missed it.”

“Then how did they find it?” Rúna demanded.

“They asked Athena,” the Avatar sighed. “Apparently, no one else thought to do that.”

“Wonderful. Just… wonderful,” the ambassador grimaced. “Do we have any idea where they are now?”

“Not a clue,” Ess admitted. “Soon as it left the system, it dropped off sensors. It’s a safe bet it has some sort of advanced stealth technology built into it.”

“I don’t suppose we know what their plans are?” the Valkyrie inquired.

“We don’t,” the uploaded personality revealed, sadly to no one’s surprise. “But given the circumstances and who’s involved, I think we have to assume the worst.”

“I don’t even know what the worst is in this scenario,” Genvass growled, visibly frustrated at this turn of events.

“Poking what’s left of the Troika with a stick?” Rúna suggested.

“Look, I don’t mean to play devil’s advocate here, but… are we entirely sure that’s a bad thing?” Ess ventured.

“We’re just starting to put the pieces back together,” the Dharmist pointed out. “Humanity is in a fragile state at the moment, and it wouldn’t take much to tear us back apart.”

“How big a threat are they really, these days?” the Valkyrie put out to the others. “We shattered them last time, and that was while we were fighting the Yīqún. We beat ‘em then, and we can beat them now.”

“Maybe,” Genvass said carefully, “but we had the Alliance supporting us, don’t forget. Besides, we didn’t actually beat the Yīqún. We were barely holding our own, in fact, until the Caretaker showed up and whisked them all away to Terra alone knows where.”

“Where does the Provisional government stand on this?” Rúna blurted out. “How come we haven’t heard from them directly?”

“All I know is that it’s being ‘discussed’,” Ess said acerbically, making air quotes on the monitor.

“Meaning there’s no consensus,” the ambassador winced. “That doesn’t bode well.”

“Why?” the Valkyrie queried them. “So the clan leaders disagree. So what? They always disagree.”

“Because if they can’t agree on how to respond, it means at least some clans support what they’re doing,” Genvass illustrated for her.

“The problem is we don’t know what they’re up to,” the Avatar suggested. “It could be anything. Or nothing.”

“I seriously doubt it’s nothing,” Rúna snorted. “Look at who we’re talking about; Remi Hadad, the unrepentant pirate, and Samara, who was an assassin and a terrorist. I have a hard time believing they’re just taking in the sights.”

“Damn it,” the ambassador muttered under his breath, earning a look from the other two. “I spoke with Samara recently,” he explained, “and she was complaining about her role within the government. I believe she found it stifling.” He shook his head. “And she referred to herself as a terrorist.”

“Then I think we have to assume they’re going after someone,” Ess said quietly. “The question is who.”

“My credits are on the Troika,” the Valkyrie insisted. “Or at least one of the three races.”

“Let’s hope so,” Genvass nodded, “though this is going to open up a massive can of worms with the Alliance.”

“How so?” Rúna asked him.

“This is exactly what they’re afraid of,” he reminded her. “Terrans armed with Precursor technology, eager to pay back every wrong and insult, with interest.”

“They’re worried they’ll just end up exchanging one overlord for another,” the Avatar agreed.

“So, what do we say?” his security chief asked. “We’re due to meet with them in less than a week.”

“... Nothing,” Genvass said at last, “we tell them nothing. Not until we have to. With any luck, our troublemakers will stay off their radar for the foreseeable future. I know it’s not ideal, but the longer we can keep them mollified, the better.”

“Pretty slender reed to hang your hopes on,” Ess observed. “And even if it works, it’s only a short-term solution. What do we do long term?”

“I have no idea,” he sighed. “I know I need to speak with the Dàifu and find out what she has to say. She should be able to tell me at least where the clan leaders stand. It’s a start.”

“What about Captain Taneka?” Rúna brought up. “She might have some insight into Remi’s motives. Both of them being Corsairs, and all.”

“I think we should hold off on that as well,” the Avatar said quickly. “We don’t know where her loyalties might lie.”

“As much as it pains me to admit it, I’m forced to agree,” Genvass said in resignation. “For now, we keep this under our vest.”

“And in the meantime?” Ess inquired.

“In the meantime,” the Dharmist responded, with growing trepidation, “I need to speak with the Dàifu.”

----------------------------------------

“They caught us off guard, that’s for certain,” the Dàifu admitted. “We didn’t know about the hidden shipyard or their plans. We still don’t. As for the rest…” She sighed, shaking her head. “I imagine it’s no surprise there are contrary opinions on how to proceed.”

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“How bad is it?” Genvass asked the image on the monitor.

“The Valkyries and Corsairs think we should attack now, while we still hold the advantage,” she explained. “No surprise there, given they make up the bulk of our armed forces. The Knights and Tinkers, on the other hand, want to find a peaceful solution. As do I.”

“And the Avatars?” he pressed. “Where do they stand?”

“They’re straddling the fence, playing the waiting game,” she said sourly. “I suspect they’ll throw in with whoever ends up claiming a majority.”

“Well, at the moment, that sounds like your coalition,” Genvass stated. “That’s promising.”

“The key phrase in that sentence is “at the moment’,” she pointed out. “Don’t expect things to remain stagnant, we’re still early in this crisis. I guarantee you at least some of the clans will adjust their vote as circumstances change.”

“Assuming the peace faction prevails, how do we stop them from carrying out their plan?” he challenged her. “Can we stop them?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, now noticeably unsettled. “There were other ships at the underground base, and we’re going over them now. Unfortunately, Peacemaker seems to have been the most powerful of the lot.”

“Peacemaker? That’s its name?” The Dàifu nodded in confirmation. “Those other ships. If we can find crews for them, and if we can locate this Peacemaker, can we disable it if we’re forced to?”

“That’s the big question, all right,” she agreed. “We’ve discussed it with Admiral Van Aalst, and even consulted with Athena herself, and I’m not going to lie, it doesn’t look encouraging. I’m not saying it’s impossible, but… we’d be looking at some pretty long odds.”

Genvass considered that for a moment. “If the Alliance sees this ship as a threat, then they may choose to intervene. It might give us the advantage we need.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” the Dàifu said darkly. “We already looked into that possibility, and the phrase ‘like fish in a barrel’ came up more than once.” She stared bleakly into the camera. “That vessel is unlike anything you’ve ever seen.”

“Well then,” he said, “if we can’t shoot them down, we have to talk them down. Have you tried communicating with the ship?”

“Repeatedly, with no success,” she grimaced. “We’re almost positive they’re receiving. They’re just not answering.”

“And no luck in locating them, I’m guessing,” he said dubiously. “None,” the Dàifu said, “not with that ship’s stealth capabilities. Which means, I’m afraid, the next move is up to them.”

A powerful sense of foreboding came over him. “Then let’s pray that whatever their plans are, common sense wins out in the end,” he said at last.

“Then it would be a first,” she said bluntly. “The fact they’ve gone this far already doesn’t inspire me with a great deal of hope.”

Genvass got a distant look in his eyes as something occurred to him. “What is it?” the Dàifu asked him.

“That ship’s name,” he said quietly. “There’s an old quote that keeps coming back to me every time I think of it.”

“Oh? What quote is that?”

The troubled expression on his face was impossible to ignore. “Something one of the ancient Romans said,” he informed her.

“They made a desert… and called it ‘Peace’.”

----------------------------------------

B1257+12 was a system most ships avoided, and for a good reason. It was a pulsar, a neutron star that swept the cosmos with twin beams of electromagnetic radiation. They were powerful enough to scour the planets orbiting it down to the very bedrock, rendering them permanently uninhabitable, even more so than old Terra herself. It was a hazard to shipping, utterly deadly to the unwary, and only nominally part of To’uuk territory. No one challenged their claim, for the simple reason there was absolutely nothing in the system of value, which meant no one ever visited this place.

Making it the perfect location to kick off a clandestine shakedown cruise.

Remi glanced over at Samara. “Are you ready for this?” he asked her.

She patted the ancient Precursor cube, now nestled within its own recessed nook. “We’re ready,” she answered, speaking both for herself and the digital Avatar known as ‘Guardian’. “I’m curious to see how well the neural interface works under real-world conditions.”

… As am I, Guardian chimed in, though of course, only Samara could currently hear him.

“Same here,” the Corsair agreed, making it unanimous. With a tap on the console in front of him, he activated the ship-wide hail.

“All hands, this is the captain,” he informed the crew. “It’s time. Log onto the neural network, and let’s get this field test underway.”

Settling back into their crash couches, each member of the crew activated their neural interface, one by one. Employing nanotechnology, a custom-fitted helmet wove itself together around each of their heads, while hair-like tendrils penetrated their flesh to jack into their central nervous system. Other filaments sprouted as well, cocooning them to keep them safe and attend to their bodies’ physical needs, while their conscious minds accessed the virtual reality of the neural interface.

Remi’s psyche reappeared on a ship’s bridge, though one unlike any he had seen before. It was purely a simulated construct, one formed by the connection created between man and machine. Molded consoles were placed within easy reach, their layout the perfect blend of ergonomics and aesthetics. The rest of the crew appeared as well, taking their own positions, including Guardian, taking on the same human guise he’d worn during their meeting with Athena. He’d asked Samara about that, who explained the Precursor Avatar had used the same image when she’d first interfaced with him. Apparently, it was based on someone from her childhood.

As the last crewman logged in, Remi spoke up. “Cyrene, verify all is in readiness.”

A warm mezzo-soprano voice filled the compartment. “Ship’s engines are online, captain,” the ship’s computer informed him. “Weapon systems are in standby mode, passive stealth functions are fully operational.”

Unlike Athena, Cyrene wasn’t a true AI; merely a very smart and adaptable program that gave the illusion of sentience. It monitored the ship’s systems at all times, making adjustments as needed. In theory, it could run the entire ship without a crew, though in practice it would eventually run into a situation requiring a decision from a sapient being. Without that input, it would simply shut down.

“All right then,” he acknowledged. “Xuilan, she’s all yours. Take us out.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” the pilot responded, as the engines roared to life. With input from both Samara and Guardian, they’d come up with a course that would test the crew’s limits, using the system’s planetoids to mark their route. It would have been all but impossible to follow had they still been aboard Gyrfalcon, but as Xuilan guided them past the first channel marker, she made it look effortless. Her delicate fingers flew across her virtual console as the ship danced an intricate ballet.

“Approaching designated target Alpha,” Cyrene apprised them, as they neared one of the system’s asteroids.

“Okay, Slavko, let’s see what you can do,” Remi grinned, as the gunner locked up the rock in his sights.

“Target has been acquired,” he announced while waiting until they were in optimal range. “Firing mass drivers,” the gunner warned them, as a salvo of specialized munitions was launched away from the ship, boosted to incredible velocities. The projectiles screamed away from the ship, roaring through the vacuum of space until they impacted against the target.

The crew cheered as they watched the rocky asteroid shatter like brittle chalk.

“Take us to the next target,” Remi ordered. “Mairead, how are we looking?”

“I wish I looked this good,” the engineer snorted. “She’s green across the board. Better than green, in fact, if there is such a thing.”

The news didn’t surprise him. If there had been any problems, Cyrene would have already made them known.

“Guardian?” Speaking directly with Samara’s imaginary friend still seemed odd to him, but when they were jacked in together, he wasn’t imaginary. Quite the contrary, in fact, considering he was currently looking right at him… or his virtual image, at least.

“Ship’s crew and onboard systems are operating at near peak efficiency,” he notified them. “I have every reason to believe this trend will continue throughout the remainder of the test.”

“Excellent!” Remi chortled before turning his attention to Samara. “So… what do you think?”

“Assuming Guardian’s right about the rest of the test… and I’m betting he is… then we have some decisions to make,” the Protean answered. “Up till now, this has all been theoretical, but once we complete our evaluation of Peacemaker’s capabilities, then it’s time to make a choice. Do we go back to New Terra and ask the Provisional government for approval, or… do we take matters into our own hands?”

“You know where I stand,” the Corsair growled. “As long as the Troika, or what’s left of it, still exists, they’re a threat. If we go back to New Terra with our tail between our legs, they’ll be arguing over what to do until the heat death of the freaking universe.”

“Agreed,” Samara nodded, before glancing over at her companion. “Guardian?”

“My people... your ancestors… did not survive as long as they did by ignoring potential threats,” he stated. “Based on all relevant data, my advice is to strike.”

Glancing at the rest of the crew, one by one, they all nodded in agreement.

“Very well,” Remi said as they reached a consensus. “In that case… when the exercise is concluded, we’ll pull up the charts.”

“... Let’s see where we want to visit first.”