“Do you have a plan?” Remi asked the Protean. “Or is this just you grandstanding?”
Samara smiled. “The beginnings of one, at least. But I’m certain between the two of us we can… work something out.”
The Corsair struggled to not roll his eyes, failing miserably. After her announcement, he’d dismissed the crew, giving them a chance to rest and… more importantly… allowing the two of them to hash things out ahead of bringing them in. Given their shared history, he’d wondered how long it would take before she finally made her play. Not long, it seemed.
“That’s not happening, Samara,” he said flatly. “I thought I’d made myself clear.”
“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” she chuckled. “I’ve been on my own for a while now, and it gets lonely in the deep black.” She threw him a wink, which he ignored.
“If we could please focus on the plan?” he prodded her.
“Fine,” she sighed theatrically before her disposition shifted to something more business-like. “I wasn’t able to do a full recon of the system. Like I said, I couldn’t even get near it. But based on the reactions of the vessels I picked up, I think I’ve got a decent idea of what you’re up against.”
“Don’t you mean what we’re up against?” he corrected her.
Something flitted past her eyes. “Of course,” she conceded, before pulling up a display of the system. “As near as we could tell, Guardian and I, the Troika set up a perimeter several light-years out from the Threshold system, I assume to prevent us Terrans from getting too close. I’m certain I didn’t see all the ships they had stationed there, not even after they began chasing us. I’m pretty sure they’ve also got listening posts scattered throughout the area, unmanned relays to extend their net.” As she talked, Samara highlighted multiple key positions on the monitor, marked and color-coded to differentiate between ship and buoy, as well as between actually observed versus merely suspected. By the time she finished, there were a lot of notations.
“Well, that doesn’t look promising,” Remi grumbled. “If there’s a gap in their coverage, I’m not seeing it.” He glanced back at Samara. “You’re sure this is accurate?”
“As certain as I can be,” she shrugged. “I admit there’s a fair amount of guesswork involved, though I should also point out this projection represents Guardian’s estimates, not mine.”
“And he’s that good?” he said dubiously.
“Why not ask him yourself?” she grinned, as her posture and expression suddenly shifted. Remi could only stare in shock as she spoke once more, only it wasn’t Samara that was speaking.
“The data you see displayed is based on multiple observations taken during our approach to the Threshold system, as well as our attempted escape,” Guardian explained, a disturbing sight indeed. “In addition, the inferences I have made were determined by both reaction times and tactics used by the Troika forces, which I have verified where possible with Multi-Dimensional Differential Algorithmic Fractal Geometry. I have determined the accuracy rate to be within a variance of plus or minus 4.937%. Do you wish me to go over the formula and equations involved?”
Remi’s jaw dropped. It took him several moments to realize that fact, and several more before having the presence of mind to close it again. “That… won’t be necessary. I think the math would be beyond me,” he said at last, once he’d rediscovered his voice. “Could you give control back to Samara, please?” Seeing her being puppeted like that just felt wrong, on a level so profound it beggared description.
There was another subtle shift as she blinked and shook it off. “Much as I like the guy, I hate that,” she shuddered. “Been doing this for a couple years now, and I swear I’ll never get used to it.”
“I can only imagine,” he said in sympathy. Having your body under someone else’s control? It sounded like a nightmare.
She took a deep, cleansing breath and picked up her drink. “So… satisfied?”
“I guess I have to be, don’t I?” he shrugged.
“If Guardian, or any of the other Cognates, for that matter, have made an error in math, I’ve yet to see it,” she confirmed. “I don’t think you can truly appreciate just how advanced they were.”
“Other Cognates?” he asked. “Just how many Avatars are in that box?”
“Thousands, at least,” Samara answered. “I’ve never asked. I just know that no matter what I’m having a problem with, Guardian has someone on tap who’s an expert at it. Medical knowledge, piloting, engineering, combat… you name it, he’s got it.” She flashed him a grin. “You have no idea how handy that can be.”
“I’m starting to,” he said honestly. “Every skill imaginable, plus an indestructible body? Along with your shape-shifting ability?” Remi shook his head. “Some might say that makes you the ultimate killing machine.”
“I’m out of that game,” she said evenly. “Guardian is a valuable asset, and the knowledge he’s given me is literally priceless, but it’s simply a tool, a means towards an end, nothing more.”
“And that end is?” he prompted her.
She smiled and raised her glass. “New Terra,” she chuckled.
“And once we secure New Terra?” he continued, “what then? Will you sever your connection with Guardian when the mission is complete?”
“I… hadn’t given it much thought,” Samara admitted. “I try not to plan too far ahead.”
“Perhaps you should,” Remi pressed her. “You realize with that healing ability of yours, that makes you, well… immortal.” He sipped his drink, gauging her reaction.
The Protean stared at him. “I hadn’t thought about that,” she said, dumbfounded. “Not sure how I feel about that, to be honest.”
“I know how I feel about it,” he replied. “Humans weren’t built for immortality, Samara. Our minds aren’t equipped to handle it. Living century after century, millennia after millennia, watching everyone and everything you ever knew and cared about wither and die, growing further and further detached? Imagine that for a moment. Think about the person you’ll be a thousand years from now, when everything you see around you has long since turned to dust. When you no longer have a personal connection to any living being… and the power of the gods at your very fingertips.” Remi shuddered at the image. “You’d make the Troika and the Yīqún look like bloody amateurs.”
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Samara started to speak, but before she could respond, her persona shifted once more, only this time without her bidding.
“You have every right to be concerned,” Guardian responded. “The scenario you have just described is one we Cognates are all too familiar with. Samara is not the first Host we have joined with, nor, I suspect, will she be the last. The knowledge and power we provide can be quite seductive, and we have learned from long experience to terminate the connection should the Host exhibit signs of perverting what we bestow.” He gave Remi a brief nod before Samara was suddenly back in the driver’s seat.
“You never said anything about severing the connection!” she snarled, pausing as she heard Guardian’s reply. “You’re damn right we’ll ‘discuss’ this later,” she growled, before taking a moment to compose herself. “Sorry,” she apologized. “That caught me by surprise.”
“I can see that,” he agreed. “But I won’t lie, Samara. I’m relieved there’s a safeguard in place.”
She took a deep breath and shrugged. “I guess I am too,” she confessed. “You can’t imagine what it’s like, knowing nothing can touch you. It’s… intoxicating, sometimes.”
“So nothing can kill you?” he asked carefully.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” she responded with an airy wave. “Do enough damage to me and there won’t be anything left to rebuild with. If you dropped me into a star, for example, there’s no way I could come back from that.” She paused, considering that. “Not sure about the Repository, though. It might survive. The Precursors built things to last.”
“Considering that whatever’s protecting their homeworld is still functioning after a billion years, I’d have to agree,” Remi nodded. “We are, however, straying from the topic at hand. How do we get in?”
“Well, Guardian and I have been kicking that one around, and we’ve come up with something that just might work.” She graced him with a smile that bordered on the wicked. “And all it requires is locating a ship and crew who are comfortable engaging in a minor act of piracy.” Samara looked at him across the rim of her glass. “Know where we might find someone like that?”
Remi returned her gaze with a savage grin of his own.
“By some strange coincidence… I do.”
----------------------------------------
“Hijack a Troika ship?”
Xuilan looked at her captain dubiously. “That’s insane, Cap’n. You get that, right?”
“It’s not like it’s never been done before,” Remi countered. “What about that Aggaaddub battlecruiser over Taing’zem?”
Slavko rolled his eyes. “First off, they had a company of Ixians with them. Second, they got freaking slaughtered. And third, they thrashed the damn ship.” He shook his head at the prospect. “Gonna be real hard taking a ship with no engines to New Terra.”
“Obviously we can’t go in guns blazing,” Samara said affably. “In order to pull this off, we’ll need a more subtle approach. So, instead of us going to them, we make them come to us.”
“How?” Mairead demanded, eyeing the Protean with suspicion.
“With a ‘Broken Wing’ gambit,” Remi explained. “We make the ship look like she’s been damaged in a Yīqún( attack, and when the Troika comes to investigate, we make our move.”
“Suppose their move is to just blow us out of the water?” Isi asked. “What do we do then?”
“Die,” Samara said matter-of-factly. “If you’re looking for a risk-free plan, I’m afraid I can’t help you. This is the Troika we’re talking about, after all.”
“You mean we’ll die,” Xuilan fired back. “We’ve already seen what you can come back from. You’re putting us all at risk because you’ll survive, despite whatever happens to us.” She glared at the Protean, shooting daggers at her.
“Yeah, it’s risky,” Remi agreed, “but like Samara said, we’re talking about the Troika. Any plan involving them is risky. If you’ve got a better idea… any of you… then I’m all ears.” He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest, waiting for a response.
The crew looked at one another, each hoping one of the others had some brilliant strategy that would magically solve all their problems, but after several long moments spent searching their faces, it became obvious no such miracle was forthcoming.
“Just because we can’t come up with a better idea doesn’t make this a good one,” Slavko said sullenly.
“It’s the best we’re going to come up with, given our options,” the captain replied.
“And when a Tu’udh’hizh’ak dreadnought shows up, with ten thousand Chell all armed to teeth? What then?” Mairead fired back. “Cause there’s no way we’re taking something like that down.”
“We’ll need to choose our target with all due diligence,” Remi agreed. “Which brings us to the first part of the plan… the lure. Not only do we need to draw the right ship in, we also need a way of shutting it down if the wrong one appears on our radar. Any thoughts?”
“Well…” Slavko mused, scratching his chin, “what if we went dark, and only activated the signal if a good prospect entered the sector? Could that work?”
All eyes turned to Mairead. “I don’t know. Troika tracking systems are pretty hard to spoof,” she said after a moment, before suddenly furrowing her brow. “Unless…”
“Sounds like someone has an idea,” Samara grinned.
“It’s crazy,” the Tinker backpedaled, “probably wouldn’t even work.”
“Try me,” Remi encouraged her.
“Well… what if we used Morgana?” she suggested. “I’d have to pull it from Gyrfalcon and modify it some, but with a little fiddling, I think I could use it to help mask our signature. Not sure how long it would last, though.”
“That’s what you used to escape the attack on Freya, isn’t it?” Samara asked the captain.
“It is,” he agreed, “and I think that’s a hell of an idea. How soon can you get started?”
“Hey, I gotta dig into it first, and see if I can integrate it with Tyr’s systems. It’s gonna take some time,” Mairead protested.
“Start looking into it,” he ordered. “Also, I want you to alter our transponder code. In fact, I’d like to have a handful on file we can pull out at a moment’s notice, depending on who starts sniffing around our trap.”
“Easy enough,” she shrugged. “What IDs?”
“Freya’s, for starters,” Remi suggested. “At the moment, no one outside of the six of us knows about Tyr. I’d like to keep it that way. Besides, as her sister ship, she’s an obvious choice.”
“Piece of cake,” she nodded. “Got good data on her transponder code. What else?”
“Give us some time to kick that around,” he said. “I imagine we’ll be fine-tuning this as we go.”
“Where are we going to set up our ambush?” Xuilan asked him.
“We need somewhere off the beaten path, but still get regular Troika traffic,” Remi mused.
“Beggin’ the captain’s pardon, but that sounds like a contradiction in terms,” Isi pointed out.
“No, just a compromise,” he explained. “We need some shipping transit, just not a lot. And preferably something close by. Got anything that fits the bill?”
Xuilan pulled up her charts on the monitor and began perusing them. “Maybe,” she said after a minute. “There’s a Troika installation on Erii U’ut, a few parsecs from here. It’s not too far from Threshold, and it’s one of their lesser transportation hubs. We’ll have to do some reconnaissance, but there’s gotta be a decent spot we can lie up off the least-time travel route.”
“Sounds promising,” he agreed. “That’s a good start, though it leaves us with one rather large question left to tackle.”
“How do we take over their ship without getting ourselves killed in the process?” Isi guessed.
“Bingo,” Remi nodded.
“Can’t you do it?” Mairead asked Samara.
“I can,” the Protean agreed. “I’ve done it before. It’s going to depend on how big the ship is though, and how many crew. Even with Guardian’s help, I can only move so fast. If they get a signal out, that’s it. That being said, we should have a backup plan in case something goes wrong.”
“Like what?” Slavko said sarcastically. “You trip and fall into a supernova?”
They all chuckled at that, easing some of the tension.
“You never know,” Samara smiled cryptically.