“Maggie...wake up.”

The Tinker groaned, opening an eye. “...what now?” she grumbled, as the monitor flickered into life, displaying the image of a white-haired angel.

“We need to talk,” Alphad told her. “The Troika has gone dark.”

That woke her up. “Dark? What do you mean, dark?”

“I mean just that,” the Avatar replied. “No information going in or out, from any of the races.”

Rúna sat up in her bunk, rubbing her eyes and reaching for her tunic. “And what does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Nothing good, that’s certain.”

“Maybe it’s got nothin’ to do with us,” Maggie suggested. “Could be they’re gettin’ ready to go at each other’s throats.”

“Over what?” he prompted her. “You don’t become major players like the Troika by going to war on a whim. If they’re gearing up for a fight, there’s a purpose behind it.”

“And you think that reason is us,” the Valkyrie guessed. “Our mission.”

“I haven’t been able to find any other motive, though that doesn’t mean there isn’t one,” he shrugged, his wings bobbing with the gesture. “But considering what we already know...the deaths of the original mission’s crew...I think we have to assume they’re preparing to move.”

“Shit,” Maggie cursed, as Rúna grabbed her gun belt and strapped it on. “Wake ‘em up,” she ordered, “we got decisions to make.”

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

They crowded the Mess as the Gyrfalcon crew and those selected for the mission crammed themselves into the cramped space. Isi made a batch of what he called “coffee”...not the genuine article, no one had tasted that in two centuries...but something hot, brown, and loaded with caffeine, or at least a near relative. It was bitter but did a decent job of clearing away the cobwebs.

“The answer is obvious,” Genvass said after Alphad finished his report. “We should cancel the mission. The last thing we wish to do is provoke our neighbors.”

“Well, of course you’d say that,” Sergeant Kai snapped. “Do you Dharmists ever tire of kissing alien ass?”

“How dare you!” he shouted back, taking a step towards the other man only to be intercepted by Remi.

“No fighting on my ship,” he warned. “If you have a problem, take it outside...and by outside, I mean space,” the Corsair smirked. “I find a whiff of vacuum takes the fight right out of people.” Samara laughed at that, giving the pirate a languid wink.

“If Alphad’s right, it’s too late to walk away from this,” Maggie interjected. “Somethin’ about this mystery planet has got ‘em riled up, and I doubt they’re just gonna forget about it.”

“Then what are you saying?” Blye asked her. “That we should ignore what the Troika is doing and continue the mission anyway?”

“I reckon we have little choice,” she answered, ruing her words. “Considerin’ what happened to the last mission? We’re already marked, every last one of us.”

“Wait a second…we’re not a part of this ‘Mission’,” the pilot Xuilan objected. “We’re just the chauffeurs.”

“I doubt whoever’s behind this will make that distinction,” Alphad pointed out. “It didn’t protect the crew of the Katabasis. Not a single one of them is still alive.”

“So, we’re fucked then,” Slavko growled.

“What else is new?” Samara smirked. “We always get fucked.”

“Unless we can figure out why they want this planet so bad,” Maggie shrugged. “We do that, maybe we find an angle to keep ‘em off our backs.”

“It’s not my back I’m worried about,” Prash muttered, earning him a round of laughter from the others...only to have it cut short as a klaxon began to howl.

The ship’s crew was all business. “Tactical alert!” Remi barked, “All hands to General Quarters! If you’re not crew, get to your cabins and strap in!”

The Mess deck became a flurry of motion as the group fought to disentangle themselves. The passengers made for the cabins, with two exceptions...Maggie, who headed for the Bridge, and Rúna, who changed directions when she realized her charge was disobeying orders. They arrived on the heels of Remi and his command crew, already in motion.

“What the hell are you doing here?” the Corsair demanded. “I told you to go to your cabin!”

“I need to be here,” Maggie fired back. “I have to know what’s happenin’.”

He looked like he was ready to argue the point, but before he could respond Xuilan shouted over her shoulder, “Update from Freya...twenty-plus Aggaaddub vessels inbound, time to weapons range, zero-five minutes.” She leaned forward as the display updated. “Orders from the Flag are to scatter.” The two shared a look; fighting the alien armada was tantamount to suicide and scattering the Terran vessels would save some...but they’d lose what little mutual protection they had doing so.

Nodded in acknowledgement, Remi punched a button on his console. “Mairead, I need engines hot two minutes ago, and get us clear of Freya,” he ordered, before turning his attention to the gunner. “Slavko, I want weapons up and tracking,” he instructed, but before he could reply the captain was already moving to his next directive. “Xuilan, plot me a course oblique to the enemy’s trajectory, keeping Freya between them and us. Max accel,” he snapped, before facing the two passengers once more.

“They’re here because of you, aren’t they?” he said, his words a dangerous promise.

“The mission,” she corrected. “So if you think you can just shove us out an airlock and wash your hands, think again. I reckon they already know who you are...and they don’t seem the type to tolerate loose ends.”

Muttering a string of profanity, the Corsair spun his chair back towards the bow of the ship. “Strap in,” he growled, “things are about to get...interesting.” The pair hurried to comply, finding spare seats and harnessing themselves in place as a metallic clang reverberated throughout the ship. “Docking clamps clear,” the Engineer’s voice came over the intercom, “engines are hot.”

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“Go go go!” he shouted, as the pilot slammed the controls forward. Gyrfalcon leapt into the dark, racing for safety, as the passengers and crew held their breath.

“Two bogies are peeling off the Aggaaddub formation and coming up our six,” Xuilan reported. “They’ll have us in range in zero-eight mikes.”

“Track them,” Remi ordered the gunner, “and bring up Fata Morgana.”

Slavko stared at him. “Haven’t had the greatest luck with that, Cap’n.”

“We can’t outrun them, we can’t win a straight up fight, so what other choice do we have?” the pirate answered.

“…aye, Cap’n...bringing Morgana online,” he nodded, albeit reluctantly, his hands moving with singular purpose across his console.

“What the hell is Morgana?” Maggie demanded.

“Something we found a while back,” Remi answered. “With a little luck it’ll let us escape.” The Tinker shot him a dubious state. “All right...a lot of luck,” he amended.

“Cap’n, enemy armada is engaging the fleet,” Xuilan informed him. “Throwing it to the main viewer now.” Everyone on the Bridge watched the screen, as Freya and the rest of the Terran fleet fought for their lives.

The ancient battleship launched wave after wave of missiles, fighting a rearguard action to cover the withdrawal of the other ships. The railgun batteries were already online, firing heavy tungsten-jacketed depleted uranium slugs at the Aggaaddub vessels. It was breathtaking to witness...but the battle was far from one-sided. The enemy returned fire with devastating beam weapons, tearing great rents in Freya’s hull and venting air to space.

The other Terran ships ran for their lives, firing their own engines and choosing trajectories away from the skirmish almost at random, with the enemy vessels in hot pursuit. Who lived and who died would be decided by chance; the toss of a coin, a throw of the dice.

Maggie watched the battle rage in sick horror...knowing Diggs was still aboard Freya.

“Enemy ships are gaining,” Xuilan reported, “time to intercept, zero-four mikes.”

“Fuckin’ lizards,” Remi spat out as they watched the carnage, and no one was inclined to disagree. “All right, you two, time to earn your pay. We got one chance to pull this off. You screw it up...and we’re dead.” He smirked as he leaned back in his couch. “No pressure.”

No one laughed.

On the viewer Freya was still hammering away at the Aggaaddub fleet, and as they watched two of the smaller vessels were pounded into scrap, but the others redoubled their efforts. The faster Terran ships were escaping, blinking away to parts unknown, but the older and slower craft were easy prey for the hungry sharks hunting in these waters. There was no attempt to negotiate, and over the Fleet frequency they could hear other captains pleading for mercy...all to no avail. They cut their offers of surrender off mid-sentence as they destroyed them, with thousands dying under the enemy assault.

“Time to intercept, zero-two mikes.” Xuilan informed her captain.

“Understood,” Remi replied, calm despite the obvious strain. “At minus-thirty seconds, you are to cut engines and flip the ship, then reengage on a reciprocal course.”

“...a Crazy Ivan?” the Valkyrie blurted out.

“I know,” he snapped, “but it’s all we’ve got. Slavko, the moment we’re in range, fire a Smoker at each ship. Target their transponders.”

“Aye Cap’n,” the gunner answered, his voice skeptical as he programmed the launch and locked it in.

“Gonna be close,” Xuilan breathed, her hands poised over the controls.

Maggie and Rúna could only watch with macabre fascination as the clock ticked down, even as the fight continued to rage behind them. Remi was attempting a dangerous tactic to get clear, one only a madman would even consider. They didn’t call it a “Crazy Ivan” for nothing.

But given what was hunting them, the lengths they were prepared to go to, it was also the only option they had.

“Stand by,” the pirate captain said, raising his arm and holding it aloft as he watched the timer countdown. “...in three...two...one…now!” he shouted, his hand slashing down as they held on for dear life.

There was a pause, a moment of silence as the engines cut off, then a painful kick to the belly as the pilot cut gravity to perform the hazardous maneuver, flipping the vessel end-for-end...before being slammed back in their seats as she redlined the thrusters.

“...glurck…” Maggie sputtered, struggling to breathe, as they struggled to neutralize their Delta v. The pursuing Aggaaddub ships seemed to leap forward as they raced towards each other, Remi’s eyes fixed on the screen with laser beam concentration as he chose his moment.

“They’re charging weapons!” Slavko howled, his knuckles showing white as waiting for the signal.

“...Fire!” Remi thundered, gripping his armrests, as a pair of missiles raced forward. “Ready the Morgana!”

“Morgana online and primed!” the gunner shouted back.

Turrets on the enemy vessels began firing blasts of energy, aiming for the incoming projectiles, but they’d programmed a series of random thrusts and jinks to buy them time. They were avoiding the counter-battery fire for the moment, but their luck couldn’t last forever.

Thankfully, it didn’t have to. A split second before the missiles detonated Remi cried out once again, “Fire Morgana!” Twin explosions appeared before them while the lights and readouts on Gyrfalcon’s bridge dimmed, indicating a massive energy drain, as they rocketed between the two Aggaaddub craft and into the black.

“Alter course to 179 by Mark 283!” he snarled, “and get me a rearview display!” Xuilan wrenched the ship hard over, the hull groaning in protest as she made the turn, as Slavko brought up the aft cameras and threw it onto the main viewer.

Maggie and Rúna stared in amazement as they watched the alien ships founder, now adrift, receding behind them as they made their escape.

“Holy shit, Cap’n...you did it,” Slavko said in hushed tones.

“We did it,” Remi said with pride. “Damn fine job, all of you. Xuilan, anyone else in pursuit?”

She scanned her readouts. “Negative...scope is clear,” she reported with a sigh of relief.

“Copy,” he nodded. “Get us out of here.”

“Aye aye Cap’n,” she agreed, adjusting their course and heading.

“...what just happened?” Rúna asked, still dazed from the experience. “What the hell was that?”

“We spoofed ‘em,” Remi explained. “Those missiles carried Cobalt-Enhanced Neutron Warheads, as dirty as we could make them. They scrambled the Lizard’s sensors long enough to hit them with Morgana.” He managed a weary grin. “It’s an Electromagnetic Pulse designed to interfere with most alien transponders.”

It suddenly all made sense. “You overrode the IFF code,” Maggie said in realization.

“For a moment,” he agreed. “It doesn’t last long, and the timing is tricky...but for a brief second their targeting thought the other vessel was the enemy. And I’ll admit, there was a certain amount of luck involved.”

“You got them to fire on their own ships,” Rúna smirked. “No wonder they’re not chasing us.”

“It was a good plan,” Maggie agreed.

“...considering that’s the first time we got it to work, I’ll count my blessings,” Slavko grimaced.

“Take what we can get,” the Corsair shrugged. “Bring up Freya on the monitor, while we’re still in range,” he ordered.

Moments later the view changed again as the Terran battleship appeared on the screen. Maggie’s heart leapt into her chest...even at this range, it was obvious the old girl was in trouble.

“Status,” Remi queried.

The Tinker swept over the craft with a practiced eye and shuddered. “She’s listin’ hard, ventin’ atmo and plasma,” Maggie struggled to get out. “I can’t say for sure, but…” Her voice trailed off into silence.

“But what?” the Corsair demanded. “Spit it out.”

“...I think her back’s broke,” she whispered, as the Corsairs made signs to ward off the Evil Eye.

“Holy Mother Terra,” Xuilan murmured, bowing her head.

They stared at the ragged human fleet...what was left of it...as they continued to withdraw. Finally Remi unlatched his harness and rose to his feet, facing the two passengers.

“Tell me it’s worth it,” he said in contemptuous tones. “Tell me this mission is worth that,” he snarled, pointing at the screen.

Maggie stood up as well. “Nothin’ is worth that,” she struggled to get out, staggering away from the sight with Rúna right on her heels.

Oh God…Diggs.