“So, have you decided?”

It was hard not to glare at Rook’s image on the viewscreen. “Yes,” she snapped before reeling it back in. No sense in making an already unpleasant situation any worse than it had to be. “I agree to your terms. Anything we learn about the device, we’ll share.”

“And allow me to conduct my own examinations,” he reminded her. To his credit, at least he wasn’t gloating over his victory.

Samara held up a finger. “With the proviso that your tests don’t threaten its integrity,” she stipulated. “A broken piece of junk doesn’t do us any good.”

Rook considered that for a moment. “Agreed,” he said at last, “though if our initial tests turn up nothing conclusive, we may be forced to revisit that. While I concede damaging the device serves neither of our interests, failure to learn its secrets is equally counterproductive.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” she said evenly. She’d hoped to keep him at arm’s length and draw out the examination process as long as possible, years if she could manage it, only it seemed Rook wasn’t willing to wait.

That could be a problem.

“Unfortunately, this is a pleasure yacht and not a research vessel, so we’re not well equipped with diagnostic equipment, but we can at least make a start of it. I suggest we take the object to Engineering and see what it reveals under scan.”

Her knee-jerk reaction was to deny the request and claim it was too risky without knowing more, but she stifled the impulse. Xeno had already performed every non-invasive test he could think of and came up empty, so it was the next logical step. And besides, she couldn’t think up a good enough excuse.

“Fine,” she agreed, before lugging the device to Engineering. Ever since the night of her miraculous rejuvenation, she’d wanted to learn more about the strange box. Was she going along with Rook’s demands just so she could scratch her own curiosity itch? She’d need to keep an eye on that; it would be all too easy to fall into the trap of giving the Avatar too much information because she was searching for it herself.

One of the remotes was waiting for her when she arrived in Engineering. “Place it on the workbench,” Rook ordered, as a scanning device rotated into position. “Hopefully, this will allow us to get a glimpse at its internal mechanisms.”

“We’ll see,” Samara said cryptically. Somehow, she suspected the object wouldn’t be giving up its secrets quite so easily. If it were Precursor technology, the fact their homeworld had held off all attempts by the other races to gain access for a billion years suggested that cracking this nut would prove nearly as difficult.

Two hours later, it was all she could do to keep the grin from her face as it proved her right. Every scan Rook had thrown at it had come up negative, the box’s surface proving to be an impenetrable barrier to X-Rays, Gamma radiation, electrons, protons, magnetic fields, radio waves... even ultrasound and infrared scans turned up nothing. And throughout the exam, the Kikush Avatar grew increasingly frustrated with each new failure.

“I don’t suppose you have any suggestions?” he snarled at her as she covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. Perhaps she wasn’t as successful in hiding her delight as she’d hoped.

“Me? Do I look like a scientist?” she asked him. “If you want mayhem done, I’m your gal. Figuring out alien puzzle boxes, on the other hand, is just a bit outside my wheelhouse.” This time she didn’t even try to keep her mirth at his failure hidden.

“Then perhaps it is time for a fresh approach,” he fired back, as a high-powered laser emitter dropped down from the overhead. Without batting an eye, Samara snatched the alien device away before the laser had locked into position.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded. “We have a deal!”

“Yes, we do,” Rook agreed. “And part of that deal was that we would move on to more aggressive methods if our initial attempts proved fruitless.”

“You’re giving up after two hours?” she said, incredulous. “I thought you older races would have just a little more patience than that.”

“Any further attempts to discern its inner components would be pointless,” he answered. “Obviously, the next step is to open it up for a visual inspection.”

Samara shook her head. “Well, you can forget it,” she fired back. “Haven’t you ever heard the story about the Goose that laid the Golden Eggs?”

“I beg your pardon?” he said, staring blankly back at her.

“Oh, right,” she sighed, “of course you haven’t. Not like anyone bothers to learn our literature.” Her disgust left him unmoved. “It’s an ancient human fable,” she continued, “a parable if you will.” Rook’s expression was still befuddled, as she sighed once again. “Never mind. The story goes like this: Once there was a poor farmer who had a goose…”

“...what is a ‘Goose’?” he interjected.

“Seriously?” Samara rolled her eyes. “A goose is a bird that humans used to keep for food,” she explained, though the condescension in her voice was hard to ignore. “May I continue?”

“If you must,” Rook replied, in equally dismissive tones, “though discovering you Terran savages dine on beings that resemble my own people does not surprise me.”

“Get over it,” she snapped. “Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted, one day the poor farmer was retrieving eggs from the goose, when he realized one felt heavier than the others. Cracking it open, he discovered to his amazement that inside the egg was a lump of gold.”

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“I take it then, that this is not normal,” Rook interrupted once again.

Samara pinched her nose. “I’d say, ‘Of course it isn’t!’, except I’ve seen even odder species in the Perseus Arm. But no, it wasn’t normal. The discovery overjoyed the farmer and his wife,” she continued, “and the gold let them buy things they had been forced to do without.”

“I do not understand the point of this tale,” Rook complained.

“That’s because I’m not done yet,” she said, exasperated. “So every day, the farmer would find another golden egg, and they would use it to buy things they needed. But the farmer and his wife grew tired of waiting for their gold, so they decided to cut the goose open and get it all at once.” She grinned at him. “Care to guess what they found?”

“I have no idea,” he replied, feigning indifference.

“Nothing. Not a single thing,” she said, wrapping things up. “The goose was normal in every regard, and there was no gold to be found inside. And now that it was dead, there would be no more gold. The farmer’s greed proved to be his undoing.”

Rook regarded her from the monitor. “You are saying that the device is like the goose.”

She palmed her face. “Yes,” she said, “that’s exactly what I’m saying.” Samara could only stare at the monitor in disbelief. “Don’t your people have parables?”

“Not as such, no,” he shrugged. “We cite actual cases to make our point.”

Samara just shook her head yet again. “I’d say you’re missing out, but whatever,” she shrugged. “What I’m saying is, we’re not cutting this thing open until we’ve exhausted all other possibilities. Understand?”

“I think you would do well to remember who is in charge of this ship before you make demands,” he said haughtily.

“This again?” Samara chuckled. “You recall what happened the last time you tried to pull this stunt?” Rook glared at her for the reminder. “Nothing’s changed, Rook. We still have each other by the throat. Mutually Assured Destruction, remember?”

“I remember,” he said through gritted virtual teeth.

“I’m glad to hear it,” she told him. “Because I’m just as willing to go to the mat now as I was then, and I literally have nothing to lose.”

Rook gazed at her through narrowed eyes. “Eventually, Samara, that equation will shift, and when it does…”

“...I expect that will be an interesting day,” she said, her face a mask. “Until then, we stay the course. Agreed?”

Rook’s silence spoke volumes, but he finally graced her with a curt nod. “Agreed,” he said at last.

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

Despite her resolve in the showdown with Rook, Samara knew she was playing a dangerous game. He held all the cards, while all she could do was flip the table. Unless she could find a way for both of them to win, they’d both lose.

And try as she might, she couldn’t imagine a scenario where they both walked away.

One day at a time, she kept reminding herself. Planning any further ahead seemed rather pointless, considering the odds stacked against them. That they’d survived this long was a miracle, believing their luck would continue to hold bordered on lunacy.

But as long as they were still in this, she’d play her hand out to the bitter end.

“Have you come up with a target?” she asked Xeno at their planning session a few hours later.

“I believe so,” he nodded, pulling up a display, “the Tu’udh’hizh’ak world At’sah.” A blue-green planet appeared on the monitor. “It’s not one of their major hubs, but it is home to several important research facilities.”

“Why aren’t we attacking a more important target?” Rook demanded.

“Because we’d get blown out of the sky before we ever got near one,” Persephone replied from her monitor. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

“We have to assume they’ve increased security since we started this campaign,” Xeno reminded him. “We know the Eleexx and Aggaaddub have.” Rook grimaced at the admonition but said nothing.

“Do we have a plan?” Kalypso asked.

“The problem is getting near enough to do any damage,” Samara reminded them. “The Tu’udh’hizh’ak monitor their systems closely, so disguising ourselves isn’t an option.”

“Nor is going in with an obvious approach, like we did last time,” Xeno pointed out. “As much as the Troika races hate each other, they do share information, and all three of them want us dead.”

“So what’s left?” Persephone asked.

“We go in ballistic,” Xeno explained. “We shut down everything just outside the sensor range of the system and coast in, just under light speed. It’ll take careful planning and more than a few finicky calculations, but as long as we stay dark, we should be able to slip in under their radar.”

“When you say everything, are you talking about life support as well?” Kalypso queried.

“Not to mention computer support,” Rook added.

“Life support is a simple matter, if we all don suits,” Xeno pointed out. “That will protect us long enough to pull off the mission. As for the computers, you’ll have to save your program to the backup file until we’re ready to launch,” he informed the Avatar.

“Do you seriously expect me to download my program into the memory banks and just shut it all down?” Rook demanded. “And what is stopping you from just deleting me while I’m vulnerable?”

“Don’t you trust us?” Persephone said with a poorly concealed grin.

“I trust you to look after your own interests,” Rook sniffed, “which is to remove me from the equation at the first opportunity. I therefore will not agree to this plan without a guarantee to protect my program.”

“And just how are we supposed to do that?” Kalypso demanded.

“I propose we place my program in Standby Mode, along with a series of triggers that will bring me to full awareness should anyone attempt sabotage, whether physically or electronically,” he suggested. “I will design the Fail Safes, of course.”

“Only after we’ve gone over them ourselves,” Xeno interjected. “We wouldn’t want to trigger an alarm accidentally.”

“Of course,” Rook nodded.

“All right, assuming we can design the shutdown to everyone’s satisfaction,” Samara said pointedly in Rook’s direction, “what’s the plan to bring us back online and hit the planet?”

“Coming back online is simple enough, a basic command phrase will handle the job,” Xeno shrugged. “As for the attack itself, given the constraints we are operating under, I believe a hit-and-run assault on At’sah’s largest orbital platform are the best option, though the timing will be tricky.”

“At just under light speed? I would think so,” Persephone agreed. “I assume you’re thinking of Gideon again for this mission?”

“I am,” he acknowledged. “And as you have pointed out, at that velocity he will have less than a twenty-thousandth of a second to sabotage the platform.”

“You’re joking,” Kalypso said deadpan. “Even a computer would have problems finding and taking out a target that fast.”

“And that is assuming your... well, my... navigation is accurate to six decimal places,” Rook said carefully. “Even the slightest miscalculation and we will strike the planet at just under three hundred thousand kilometers a second.” He glanced around the compartment. “Obviously, none of us would survive the impact.”

“Make quite the bang, though,” Kalypso grinned.

“Over five thousand gigatons of explosive force,” Rook explained, easily performing the calculation. “It would create an extinction-level event for the planet.”

“Let’s call that Plan B,” Samara quipped, getting a laugh from the others save for Rook. “We’ll have to set up some practice runs to see if Gideon can hit a target in that time frame.”

“I will see to that,” Xeno assured her.

“And once we blow past the planet?” Persephone spoke up. “We just continue on a ballistic profile until we leave the system?”

“Hopefully,” Rook agreed. “Otherwise we will be forced to use more conventional evasion tactics.”

“We’d better plan for that, just in case,” Samara ordered. “In the meantime, start checking your suits,” she said, glancing back at Xeno.

“It sounds like we’re going to be living in them a while.”