Genvass was in the middle of lunch when Captain Taneka appeared on the Mess deck. “Your friends across the way are calling,” she informed him. “Sounds like they’re irritated about something.”

Sighing, he set down his spoon. “Why do you say that, Captain?” he asked.

“Mostly because they didn’t bother with pleasantries and told me to get your ass on the horn tout suite,” she explained. “I’m paraphrasing, of course.”

“Of course,” he nodded, bowing to the inevitable. He rose to his feet, with Rúna a heartbeat behind him, as the trio made their way to the Bridge. A blinking red icon showed a pending radio message at the workstation, so Genvass took a seat and toggled the switch. “This is Ambassador Shaafvaazif,” he said into the mic.

“Ambassador, this is Ksizan,” the Chell representative announced. “Have you heard from your superiors regarding the transfer of Precursor technology?”

The Terrans shared guarded looks with one another, while Genvass took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Only that they have received your request, and are discussing the matter at the highest levels,” he lied through his teeth. “They have not rendered a decision.”

Crossing his fingers, he awaited the Troika’s reply. If they could just hold on a few more days, the Admiral’s Task Force would be within the vicinity. With any luck, the other ships would withdraw, rather than face them in battle.

Their next transmission quashed that hope.

“Your government has had more than adequate time to respond to our request,” the Chell fired back. “We have been most patient in our negotiations. However, it has become clear to us you have not been bargaining in good faith.”

“Shit,” Taneka grimaced. “That’s not good.”

“I assure you…” he began, only to be cut off mid-sentence.

“You are attempting to delay us,” Ksizan snapped, “perhaps while your government plans to drive us off by force. We have been exceedingly patient, especially given that it was only through a considerable effort on our part that we rescued you from your attackers. It is now obvious to us that our efforts to resolve this situation peacefully were destined for failure from the very beginning. So be it. You are therefore advised to prepare for boarding, so that we may take your ship and personnel into custody.” Its beady, rat-like eyes seemed to glare at him. “I give you this single warning; do not oppose our efforts. If you choose to do so, the consequence will be severe.”

And with that, the screen went dark.

“God damnit,” Rúna swore, before facing her counterpart. “You gonna let them take your ship without a fight?” she demanded.

“No way in hell,” Taneka snarled, as something passed between the two women, even as the Marine captain grabbed him by the arm, almost yanking him off his feet.

“Come on,” she exhorted, all but dragging through the corridors when a klaxon began to blare.

“General Quarters, General Quarters, all hands to Battle Stations,” the recorded message echoed throughout the ship. “This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill. All personnel are to stand by and repel boarders. General Quarters, General Quarters, all hands to…” it continued, as it replayed the announcement.

Mako was a flurry of activity as Rúna hauled him back to his quarters. As they neared the hatch, Becca was already standing by with both their suits, thrusting them into their hands. Genvass fumbled the catch, stumbling as he entered the compartment, only to squawk in protest as the two women expertly stripped him of his clothing before shoving him into his suit. Only when it was sealed and showed green did the pair don their own suits, in complete violation of long-established safety protocols. They were supposed to don their own suits first, before helping him with his, but it seemed they felt his security was more important.

Unbidden, the memory of boarding the Tu’udh’hizh’ak battlecruiser during his time as a guest of Captain Hadad came bubbling to the surface. It had been a rude awakening for a sheltered Dharmist like himself, though nothing had been more powerful than the sight of dead Chell servitors piled high around the amphibians, each clutching a rebreather, giving up their own lives in order to save their masters. The vision shook him to the core, leaving him trembling before it finally passed.

Shaking his head to banish the images, he yelped once again as they manhandled him into a crash couch and strapped him in, struggling until Rúna poked him in the chest. “No matter what happens, don’t move,” she ordered, as her second-in-command handed her weapons and ammunition. Swallowing his pride, he waited until they finished before making one last attempt to speak, only to earn yet another rebuke from his protector. “I mean it,” she glowered, as if she were speaking to a wayward toddler, while she and Becca double-checked their own gear before exiting the compartment.

Staring at the now-sealed hatch, Genvass could only bow his head in shame. Everyone on board was preparing to fight the enemy, everyone except him. And why? Because he was too important? Too critical to the mission? No, because he was bloody useless, that’s why. He couldn’t fire a weapon, or fix a plasma conduit, or anything else that might be helpful right about now, so instead they’d sent him to his room like a bothersome child.

Because he’d simply be in the way.

He was already unstrapping himself from the couch before he relaxed what he was doing. There had to be something he could do, some menial task he could perform that might help in a crucial moment, freeing up another for more important duties. Unsurprisingly, he discovered the hatch was locked, though only to keep intruders out, not him in. It only took a moment to unseal the entry and make his way into the corridor, only to stumble into one of the Mako crew, almost knocking them both to the deck. They spun on their heel, their eyes wide in panic, only to slump in relief as they recognized him.

“Ambassador?” Diggs said in surprise. “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Genvass answered. He’d had little time to chat with the apprentice Tinker during their journey; between his negotiations and Diggs’ training, the two rarely saw one another.

“Mister Cardona posted me on the other side of the ship in case we took damage,” he explained. “Said he’d handle Engineering himself.”

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Genvass suspected there was more to the engineer’s orders than appeared at first blush. Getting Diggs out of main engineering might just save his life, if the worst happened.

“Could you use an extra hand?” he offered. “I mean, I’m no Tinker, but I can help.” And maybe I won’t feel so utterly feckless while I’m at it, he thought angrily to himself.

Diggs’ head bobbed in gratitude. “Sure Ambassador, that’d be great. The waiting was getting to me,” he said nervously. Shrugging a heavy satchel off his shoulder, he handed it over. “Can you carry this for me?” he asked.

“Of course,” Genvass agreed, slipping the carryall over his head, giving it a cursory look. It was filled with patches of various sizes. “Are all boarding actions like this?”

“I don’t know. It’s my first,” the Tinker admitted.

A sudden lurch caught them off guard, sending them both careening into the bulkhead. “Mako’s maneuvering hard,” Diggs said in realization. “The Troika must be attacking.”

“I could have lived without hearing that phrase again,” he grimaced.

The ship yawed yet again as it dodged incoming fire, while Genvass and Diggs fought to stay on their feet. The pair had barely managed to steady one another when a large breach erupted from the nearby deck, followed a millisecond later as an even bigger hole tore through the overhead. A conduit exploded in the aftermath, sending a surge of white-hot flames roaring into the corridor.

“Get back!” Diggs shouted, shoving him away as he ripped open the access panel. Genvass staggered, the inferno driving him back while the young apprentice frantically punched a command into the terminal before the fiery blaze abruptly cut off.

“I’ve rerouted the plasma flow,” the Tinker told him, “but I don’t know for how long.” Inspecting the ruptured conduit he pawed through the bag Genvass was carrying and pulled out a patch, positioning it carefully before he lit his welding torch. Shielding his eyes, he stood by while Diggs fused the metal together, before finally dousing the flame.

“That’ll hold for now,” he nodded in satisfaction, as a fourth tremor surged through the deck. Pulling up a schematic, his face hardened. “The bridge has been hit!” Diggs shouted, grabbing his kit while Genvass stumbled along behind. Making their way through the ship, someone rudely shoved aside them as two Marines rushed past, hastily redeploying as they readied their defenses. The unlikely pair shared a nervous look before resuming their trek, arriving moments later at a grisly scene.

One of the consoles was torn to shreds, sending shrapnel spraying across the compartment. Lying on the deck was the ship’s second in command, blood gurgling from his mouth while their Knight knelt beside him, fighting to save his life.

“We’ve lost navigation!” Taneka howled, grabbing Diggs and shoving him at the shattered controls. “Get me thrusters!” Either she failed to notice the ambassador’s presence, or simply ignored it.

Rushing to comply, the apprentice Tinker dove into the equipment’s guts and began assessing the damage. “The control links are severed!” he shouted at the captain. “I’ll have to bypass!”

“Then do it!” she screamed, even as Mako took another hit. The gunner was firing back with everything she had, but the ship was already wounded and badly outmatched. Genvass could only stare while the others threw themselves into their roles, driving the point home of just how utterly useless he was. That he’d thought he had any value on this mission was laughable on its face until someone grabbed his wrist and yanked him to the deck.

“Put your hands here!” Doc Svoboda shouted, pressing them tightly against the wounded man’s chest. He felt something crunch beneath his fingers, his instinct to recoil away prevented only by the Knight’s firm grip. “Don’t move!” he snarled, before jamming a surgical instrument into the wound and probing the wound. “... got you,” he muttered moments later, clamping off the bleeder before packing the wound with gauze. Pulling out a hypo, he dosed the man with a sedative, before finally taping everything down and slapping a seal onto his suit. The hiss of escaping air stopped immediately while he checked the suit’s digital readouts.

“Is he gonna make it?” Taneka asked the medic.

“Too early to say,” he answered. “He’s stable, for now.”

The captain started to respond, only for the main viewer to flicker to life. Ksizan, the Chell representative, stared back at them.

“Your ship is heavily damaged, captain,” he informed her. “Surrender now, and I give you my word that I will ensure the safety of your crew.”

“You have fired on a sovereign Terran vessel without provocation,” she countered, “so I think I know what your word is worth. No deal.”

“A pity,” he sighed. “I take no pleasure in this, captain, but your ship will be in my custody before this day is out, and there is nothing you can do to prevent it.” He shook his head sadly as if he were disappointed. “There is no need to further risk the lives of those sworn to you. Surrender now, and I will show you mercy.”

“And if I refuse?” she sneered.

The Chell’s beady eyes grew cold. “Then we will destroy you.”

“... got it!” Diggs shouted, crawling out of the console as it flickered back to life. “You have thrusters!”

Taneka sneered at the rodent with a savage grin. “Go to hell,” she snarled, cutting the circuit as she brought Mako hard about, firing another brace of torpedoes. Genvass gamely held on as she maneuvered against the Troika ships, but it was obvious even to him she was fighting a losing battle. There were simply too many of them, and they were larger and more advanced. He looked down at the wounded man, his suit now streaked with blood, and bowed his head.

“Captain… cut your engines,” he said quietly.

“What?” she said in disbelief. “I am not surrendering my ship!” She glared at him, her jaw set in a hard line.

“You can’t beat them,” he argued, “and you know it. How many more of your crew will you put at risk before you finally accept the truth?”

“If they take us prisoner, our odds of survival go down rather sharply,” Taneka challenged him. “That’s not a gamble I’m willing to take.”

“And what are the odds of our survival if we keep fighting?” he fired back. “At least this way we buy ourselves some time, maybe enough for the Task Force to arrive.”

Looking in her eyes, he could already see her response, the knee-jerk refusal to even consider surrendering to the Troika. He even understood why. Through the dark years after Earth’s destruction, it was that same grit and tenacity that had allowed the Terrans to survive, that stubborn defiance to never give up. It had saved their people more than once, but here it was a luxury they could not afford.

“Captain, stand down,” he repeated. “That’s an order.”

The question now was, would she obey? Maybe on paper, he had the legal authority, but had no way to enforce it if she refused to follow his commands unless Rúna threw in with him. Of course, it meant the Corsairs and Valkyries would be at each other’s throats, and that could get very ugly, very quickly. He watched as warring emotions pulled her in different directions until finally, sanity won out. With a single command, she killed the ship’s engines as she radioed the other ship.

“If this goes bad, Ambassador,” she said through gritted teeth, “your life won’t be worth spit.” Glaring, she turned her attention back to the monitor, as Ksizan’s face appeared once more.

“We’re standing down,” she said tautly. “I expect you to honor your agreement.”

“You have my word,” he replied, though it was impossible to ignore the smug satisfaction of his body language. “Bring your vessel to the following coordinates, then shut down all functions other than life support. Your passengers and crew are to be standing by, unarmed, at the airlock. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she growled.

“Excellent,” he smiled. “In that case, I…”

This image disappeared from the screen, interrupting the transmission mid-sentence.

“Did we just lose comms?” Taneka demanded, twisting in her seat to face the Tinker.

“No, Captain,” Diggs answered. “Comms are still operational.”

“... Captain!” the gunner Yoshiko shouted, pointing at the tactical plot. “Look!”

Her head snapped back around, focusing her attention on the radar imagery… as a second Troika vessel disappeared from the screen. “What the hell…?” she said in shock, as now a third ship vanished into a ball of expanding plasma and debris.

The rest of the Troika fleet decided not to wait for their turn. They lit off their drives, burning hard to put distance between themselves and Mako, as Taneka and the others could only stare in confusion.

“What just happened?” Genvass asked the Corsair, as the viewer came to life once more, showing them both a familiar face.

“... I got your message,” Remi Hadad said to the stunned crew.

“We should talk.”