“You want me to what?”

Slavko could only stare at his captain in disbelief. “I know you didn’t just tell me to shoot a bunch of holes into Tyr. Hell, we just got her fixed up!”

Remi glared at his gunner. “You remember the part of the plan where we pretend the Yīqún attacked us? How did you think we were going to pull that off without making it look convincing?”

“I dunno. I figured we’d just cut power or something,” he mumbled.

“Would you fall for that?” the captain pressed him. “If we stumbled across an abandoned ship with no obvious signs of damage, wouldn’t you be suspicious?”

The gunner shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “I guess,” he admitted, albeit reluctantly.

“Whatever you may think of the Troika, they aren’t fools,” Samara chimed in. “If we’re going to lure them in close enough to take over their ship, we have to sell it,” she stressed, “otherwise they’ll hang just outside of range and fire on us till they destroy the ship.”

“Which would obviously be a bad thing,” Remi reminded him. “So yes, I was quite serious. So I want you to go over the torpedo inventory and transfer what you need to Gyrfalcon. We can use some of the duds, but the rest need to do actual damage, though we can probably dial it down a bit.”

“Okay, now I have an objection,” Mairead spoke up. “You’re taking an enormous risk here. If Slavko’s targeting is off even by a few meters, we could destroy Tyr.” She gave him a hard look. “You’re playing with fire, Cap’n. Literally.”

“Maybe so,” he agreed, “but this plan is the best chance we have of claiming New Terra for ourselves. The Troika have been trying to find a way in for millennia, and eventually, they could get lucky. Maybe it’s a long shot, but we’ve all seen long shots pay off. I won’t take that chance, not when we have a way in.”

He watched the crew while they weighed their options. It was obvious the plan didn’t thrill them, but it was also clear they didn’t have any better ideas. It was a vexing place to be, but Remi had no intentions of letting them off the hook. He let them stew in their own juices for a minute before pushing on.

“Mairead, set up a targeting plan for Slavko. Figure out where we can safely shoot at Tyr, without making it look obvious. And keep in mind, we’ll likely have to sacrifice a secondary system or two if we want them to buy it.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n,” she said glumly.

He turned his attention to Xuilan. “You have a course plotted for us?”

“It’s ready when you are, Cap’n,” she agreed.

“Excellent. We’ll wait until we’re on site before we start taking potshots at Tyr. We’ll want a debris field surrounding the ship to help lend some credence to our ambush. The more details we can give them that support the narrative, the better.” She nodded as he singled out their purser. “Make sure we have enough stores aboard Gyrfalcon, in case Slavko’s gunnery is a little too effective. I’d hate to lose her after all our hard work, but we need to be prepared.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n,” he nodded. “I’ll make sure she’s well-stocked.”

“Which leaves us with one last detail to cover,” Remi said to Samara. “Yīqún attacks leave a very specific weapons signature. Without it, this whole ruse of ours falls apart. I don’t suppose your ‘friend’ has any ideas on how we might simulate that?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah, Guardian has some ideas,” she admitted. “We should be able to come up with something that’ll fool the Troika.”

“Somehow, I thought he might,” the captain said pointedly, earning him a raised eyebrow from the Protean. “We have a lot of work to do,” he continued, addressing the crew, “so let’s start prepping. Xuilan, lay in a course, and take us out.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” she acknowledged, as the meeting broke up.

Samara waited until the others exited the compartment before turning to Remi. “So. How long have you known?”

The Corsair calmly returned her gaze. “I didn’t, not for certain. Not until just now.”

“I see.” Rising from her chair, Samara went to the side table and poured herself a drink. “How long have suspected then?”

“From the moment you told us about your companion,” he informed her. “Too many things only added up one way.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “And it doesn’t take a genius to guess why you’re keeping it to yourself. If word got out…”

“Having our people learn the very world we’ve pinned our hopes and dreams on is also responsible for Earth’s destruction? They’re not ready to hear that.” Samara sat back down and cocked her head. “Are you planning on telling them?”

“No,” he said quietly. “As it happens, I agree with you. Securing New Terra has to be our first priority. Once that’s accomplished, then we can quibble over the details.”

“Agreed.” She sipped her drink as a sly grin appeared. “Bound to be a few ruffled feathers once it all comes out.”

“Says something about us Terrans, doesn’t it?” Remi snorted. “‘What, you suddenly have issues with New Terra, just because it comes with some baggage?’” He rolled his eyes. “Some people would complain even if you strangled them with a golden rope.”

Samara laughed as he rose to his feet. “We’ve got a lot to get done, so I suggest we get to it,” he told her, heading for the hatch… only to pause, turning back to face her.

“If I hadn’t agreed to keep your secret, would you… or your friend Guardian… ensured my silence?” he asked.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Her expression grew positively feline. “You said it yourself,” she purred.

“... why quibble over details?”

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

“I just want to go on record about how much I hate this idea, Cap’n,” Mairead said unhappily. “Asking a Tinker to intentionally damage their ship? It really cuts against the grain.”

“Duly noted,” Remi said tersely. “Now that you’ve gotten that out of your system, where do you suggest we have Slavko aim his torpedoes?” Her objections had already left him exasperated, despite his best efforts, though he was trying not to let it show. With mixed results, unfortunately.

The engineer sighed and pulled up a set of schematics. “I guess we can take some hits on her dorsal hull towards the bow,” she allowed, highlighting the various sections. “Maybe some more amidships, port, and starboard. I’d like to stay away from the engines, though. We’re gonna need those.”

He reviewed her suggestions, then shook his head. “It’s not convincing enough,” Remi argued. “Anything that doesn’t threaten the ship’s integrity is going to look suspicious as hell to the Troika.” He paused as a thought occurred to him. “You recall Maggie’s little stunt during the Yīqún attack? Can we replicate that?”

Mairead blanched. “You want to blow up a plasma conduit?” she all but shrieked. “Are you crazy?”

“Gyrfalcon survived it, didn’t she?” he countered. “What’s the problem?”

“We got lucky,” she fired back. “You mess with the conduits and you’re just asking for trouble. If we lose containment, we could gut the entire ship.”

Remi could feel his hackles rising as he glared at her. “I know how protective you are of her, but the only thing that matters is securing New Terra. Everything else is expendable.” He paused, his nostrils flaring. “Including Tyr.” She folded her arms across her chest, smoldering as he went back to the blueprints. “What about here?” he asked, pointing to one of the railgun batteries. “Could you isolate that and rig it to blow?”

The Tinker looked positively ill. “Cap’n, we lose weapons, we lose the means to defend ourselves,” she explained. “Tyr has a lot more firepower than Gyrfalcon does, and going up against the Troika? We’re gonna need every advantage we can get.”

“You’re still not listening,” he growled. “We’re not fighting a battle with Tyr, she’s bait. We’re not going to win a standup fight against the Troika, which means the only thing that will win this skirmish is guile, pure and simple. And if necessary, I’m prepared to sacrifice her, if it means getting us to New Terra.” He leaned forward, invading her personal space. “Am I making myself clear?”

She made one last attempt to get through. “Then why did we bust our asses to get her back in shape?” she insisted. “I thought you said the Corsairs needed her.”

“Plans change,” Remi argued, “and we need New Terra a lot more than we do another ship. Besides,” he said thoughtfully, “if we gain access to what that world offers, just imagine the ships we can build then… with Precursor technology. Ships that make even Tu’udh’hizh’ak dreadnought look like a fucking rowboat.”

Her eyes went wide as she envisioned the possibilities for the first time. She looked back at the schematics as her shoulders slumped in defeat. “All right,” she said, “give me a couple days, and I’ll come up with something that’ll fool the Troika. Still hate it, though,” she mumbled.

“Pick some compartments we can blow open to space,” he added, “and start thinking about where we can rig demo charges while you’re at it.”

“You’re not making this any easier, you know,” she grumbled, turning back to the display as she started highlighting additional sections as Remi exited engineering, leaving her to her work. He’d pushed her hard on this, but it had been necessary if the plan was going to work. Best to leave her to her own devices for a while until she came up with something. Any more, and he’d end up alienating her completely.

Stepping into the corridor, he found Samara waiting for him, leaning against a bulkhead. “Tinkers,” she shrugged. “What are you gonna do?”

“Mairead is one hell of an engineer, and she’s naturally protective of her domain,” Remi countered. “Admit it, you’re still pissed Maggie got the better of you,” he snorted, as the two made their way toward the bridge.

“And you aren’t?” she fired back, earning her a chuckle.

“I claim Captain’s Privilege,” he said, “and therefore, refuse to even dignify that question with an answer.”

Samara laughed, threading her arm through his as they walked down the empty corridor. “There are times I think you’re the only one I can truly be myself around,” she told him. “One might say we’re both cut from the same cloth.”

“What about Guardian?” he asked. “Considering you know each other’s innermost secrets and all.”

“I wish,” she sneered. “Oh, he knows all of mine, but it’s like pulling teeth to get anything out of him. He keeps quoting regulations at me about why he can’t share certain details. I swear, he’s like a freaking boy scout.” Her face tightened as she snarled, “Yes, you are,” she insisted, before shaking her head. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize,” he told her. “Must get a little confusing.”

“You have no idea,” she said quietly, before shrugging. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s good company mostly, and Terra knows all the abilities he’s given me have come in handy, but sometimes I forget how alien he is. Some things just don’t translate.”

He cocked his head. “What were they like? The Precursors, I mean.”

“Incredibly advanced,” Samara explained, “but of course, you already knew that. Some of the things he’s done, well, they almost seem like magic to me,” she admitted. “Honorable, almost to a fault, which has led to a few hard conversations since we hooked up. Sometimes he’s uncomfortable about the compromises he’s forced to make to accomplish the mission.”

“And we’re their descendants,” Remi mused. “A lot to live up to.”

“We’re more like a ‘Happy Accident’, but I take your meaning,” she nodded. “That being said, I get the feeling Guardian’s not exactly representative of his race. At least, not anymore.”

Remi came to a halt. “What do you mean?”

“Guardian and the other Cognates were all chosen for their skills,” she reminded him, “experts in their respective fields, one and all. The best of the very best, and let me tell you, that bar was set awfully high. Except the Repository was created at the beginning of their history, not the end.” She turned to face him. “They were here for a long time, Remi. Eons. What they evolved into… I get the impression they were something quite different from their distant ancestors, the ones who allowed themselves to be preserved within the Repository.”

An uneasy feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. “What exactly are you saying, Samara? That they became gods?”

“No, of course not,” she demurred. “But from some things he’s let slip, I suspect even he was having a hard time relating to what his species eventually became. Not gods, no… but something that could do a damn convincing impression of one.”

“And we’re about to break into their homeworld,’ Remi said quietly. “Ever since we first learned about them, I’ve been worried about what would happen if we couldn’t find it.”

“And now?” she prompted him.

“And now… I can’t help but worry about what will happen if we do.” He shook his head. “Are we even ready for that kind of power?” he wondered aloud.

“I don’t think we have a choice,” she told him. “We’re not only on the ragged edge, we’re committed, what with this Alliance you spoke of, and let’s not forget about the Yīqún. If we don’t swing for the fences, despite the risks, then we are dead.”

The pair regarded one another.

“Then I guess we’d better be up to the challenge,” he said at last.

“I guess we’d better,” she agreed. “If we don’t do this now, there won’t be another chance. One last throw of the dice, with humanity’s fate hanging in the balance.”

“No pressure,” he said sourly.

“Come now, what would be the point if just anybody could play?” she chuckled. “Besides… I like our odds.”

“You know what?” he said after a moment. “So do I… which only means I’m as crazy as you are.”

The two laughed, despite themselves, as they headed for the bridge.