Samara returned a few hours later. Guardian was no longer in control.

“And what do you want?” Rúna demanded.

The Protean ignored her, instead focusing her attention on the ambassador. “We need to talk,” she told Genvass.

“All right,” he agreed. “What do you want to talk about?”

She shook her head. “Not here. And not just us.”

“Oh? And who else will be joining us?”

“Remi,” she explained, “though he doesn’t know it yet.”

Genvass raised an eyebrow. “Then I’m confused.”

“Just come with me,” Samara urged, “please. It’s important.”

“All right,” he agreed, rising to his feet. “And Rúna? Ess Peon?”

“Just you,” she said pointedly. “It’s delicate and needs to be handled carefully. Your protector is kind of a blunt instrument.” She gave the Valkyrie a half-hearted shrug. “No offense.”

“Oh, you have no idea…” Rúna growled, before turning to the ambassador. “I want to go on record and say this is a bad idea,” she stated, “but since you’re going to do it anyway,… just be careful.” She shot a hostile glare in the Protean’s direction.

“I promise,” he smiled, before gesturing towards the hatch. “After you,” he told Samara.

The pair exited the compartment and headed forward, towards a part of the ship he hadn’t yet visited. “You mind telling me what this is all about?” he asked her.

It took her a moment to respond. “I must say, I’m impressed,” she chuckled. “You did something I thought was impossible.”

“What’s that?”

“You actually spooked Guardian,” she grinned, before rolling her eyes and groaning, “... he did so,” she snapped. “I should know. I was sitting right there the whole time.”

Genvass blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

She sighed and pointed at her head. “Guardian. He’s in a mood. Sometimes I forget and have our conversations out loud. It can be a little off-putting, I know. I’ll try to keep it internal.”

The ambassador smiled at that. “Finding out he can be moody is actually sort of comforting. It humanizes him… if he were human, I mean.”

“Oh, he runs the gamut of emotions,” Samara laughed. “He once spent a week sulking because I shot down one of his suggestions.” She sighed once again. “You did too,” she fired off to her unseen companion, before shrugging in apology. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” he grinned. “Though I’m a little confused. If he experiences emotions, why did you think he couldn’t be frightened?”

“Do you have any idea how long he’s been around?” she asked him. “Or what he’s experienced in all those endless eons? If there’s a situation or event he hasn’t witnessed and dealt with a thousand times over, I’ve yet to hear of it. And it’s not like you can hurt him,” she reminded the ambassador. “The Repository is basically indestructible, for all intents and purposes. Short of dropping it in a black hole, I mean, and frankly, I’m not even sure of that.”

“I see,” he said carefully. In fact, it surprised him as well his theory had left the ancient Avatar troubled. That he’d dragged Samara’s body out the way he had left Genvass convinced he’d gotten to him, but he hadn’t realized to what extent. It was the only leverage he currently had, and it was tenuous as hell, but if he could capitalize on that…

“And we’re here,” she said, pulling up to another hatch and interrupting his thoughts. She pressed the call button beside the entrance, only for it to slide open moments later as they stepped inside.

Captain Hadad was sitting in a chair, holding a drink. His eyes narrowed when he spotted Genvass. “Mind telling me what he’s doing here?” he insisted.

“I invited him,” Samara explained, going to the table and pouring herself a drink as well. “We need to talk.”

“We already did that, remember?” He shook his head. “I don’t see the point in rehashing this.”

“Hear him out,” Samara said, only it wasn’t Samara. Guardian had taken control again, catching them both off guard.

“Why?” Remi demanded once more. “What could he possibly say that hasn’t been said already?”

“I had a chat with Guardian earlier, and it seems my words found fertile soil.” Genvass informed him. “I assume he convinced Samara that we should talk.”

The Protean shivered, twitching her head and shoulders as she grimaced. “We talked about this,” she snarled. “You ask permission before you pop in.” She held up her hand to the other two, not wanting to get into it again.

Genvass and Remi shared a commiserating look before the ambassador spoke up. “You’re being manipulated, Captain,” he told him. “We all are, as near as I can tell. Someone is pulling our strings, dragging us into a war with the rest of the galaxy.”

“Really? Who?”

“My clan leader,” he said unhappily. “Dàifu Tsoumlum Khatsakhox.”

Remi just stared at him. “This is a joke, right?”

“Believe me, I wish it were,” he sighed. “But when I expressed my misgivings to Samara, she confirmed them.”

He turned to the Protean. “This is true?”

“I’m afraid so,” she agreed. “It’s not conclusive, but the circumstantial evidence is pretty damn convincing.”

“Circumstantial evidence,” he repeated. “Meaning it could just be a coincidence.”

“It’s not,” Genvass assured him. “I’m certain of it.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Me too,” Samara chimed in. “We got played, Remi. Simple as that.”

The Corsair regarded them both over his glass. “All right, I’ll bite. Why would the head of the Dharmist clan want to start a war? What does she get out of it?”

“As far as I can tell? Revenge,” Genvass explained. “The last conversation we had, she blamed the other races for everything that’s happened to us Terrans since Earth’s destruction.”

“Well, she’s not wrong,” Remi shrugged.

“But what she’s doing is,” he insisted. “People are going to die. People have already died,” Genvass contended. “But maybe it’s not too late to stop it.”

“Stop it?” The pirate captain leaned back in his chair, a satisfied expression plastered on his face. “Why on Earth would we possibly do that?”

“Because dragging the galaxy into war is a bad idea?” Genvass said, incredulous.

Their eyes met. ”Only if we lose,” Remi said evenly, “and we can’t lose.”

“Even if we win, it’s still a bad idea,” the ambassador fired back. “The cost in lives alone will be astronomical, both Terran and alien.”

“We haven’t lost a single human,” Remi said defiantly.

“Yet,” Genvass snapped, as his hackles raised. “Don’t count on it lasting forever.”

Remi shook his head and turned his attention back to Samara. “Why are we having this conversation? I’m not hearing anything new or compelling, and being honest, even if you’re right and the Dàifu tricked us into attacking our enemies, so what? What difference does it make? It’s not like either of us needed convincing, and our reasons for grabbing Peacemaker and going hunting haven’t changed, have they?”

“No, they haven’t,” Samara admitted. “But the situation is more complicated than we realized, and we think it might be a good idea to take a moment and find out what’s really going on.”

“Seriously? You, of all people?” Remi grimaced in disgust. “I can’t believe you’ve fallen for his bullshit. He’s grasping at straws, can’t you see that? He’s got nothing. No evidence, no support, and no mission. Finally, after two hundred fucking years, we’re the ones calling the shots, and I say it’s time to clean house. We eliminate the threats once and for all.” He leaned forward, glaring at her. “Or have you suddenly gotten cold feet?”

Her eyes narrowed in response. “You know me better than that. Show me a problem and I’ll end it, permanently.” Her nostrils flared as she scowled back at him. “But being the Troika’s unwilling puppet left me with a strong dislike of being manipulated. I refuse to dance to anyone else’s tune ever again, even if I agree with their reasons. If the Dàifu had asked me directly to help destroy our enemies, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. That she didn’t makes me wonder what her real motivations are, and if anyone is pulling her strings.”

That gave him pause. “How would that even be possible?” he said after a moment. “Who could get to her on New Terra?”

“I don’t know,” Samara shrugged. “Maybe the Tu’udh’hizh’ak brainwashed her before she ever set foot on New Terra. Or the Eleexx might have gotten to her like they did me. Could be someone she cares about is being threatened. Or maybe she’s in it for the oldest reason of all.”

“Money?” Remi guessed.

“Power,” she corrected him. “Who the hell knows?”

The Corsair frowned, considering that, and then shook his head. “It can’t be the Troika,” he decided. “It would be stupid to have us come after them like this. Hell, it’d be downright suicidal.”

Samara started to respond, and then paused before trying again, but this time she spoke with Guardian’s voice. “It is not as unlikely as you may think,” the ancient Avatar stated. “We must assume they did not take their defeat at our hands with equanimity. They must surely hunger to regain what they have lost, and it is possible this ploy is how they intend to achieve that goal.”

“Okay, genius,” Remi sneered, “explain to me how us destroying them helps the Troika get back on top. Because frankly, I can’t see it.”

“Simply put, by painting Terrans as the most dangerous threat the galaxy now faces,” he explained. “The Alliance laid out the groundwork themselves, as did the Oivu. As long as New Terra maintains a firm monopoly on Precursor technology, they will always fear you. And just as they did two centuries ago against the Yīqún, they will tell the other races that only by standing together do they have any hope of defeating you.” Samara/Guardian leaned back in their chair. “I assure you, when framed in that manner, the other races will take very little convincing.”

“Fine,” Remi snorted, “let them come. We’ll fight them all if we have to.”

“They have no need to actually defeat you,” Guardian cautioned, “they simply have to contain you. As long as they keep you Terrans penned within the Threshold system, the rest of the galaxy will be theirs for the taking. They will use the ongoing threat of your presence to strike fear into the hearts of the other races, and in the fullness of time, will be able to resume their position of power once more.”

“I think you’re forgetting something,” Remi chuckled, before waving his hand about him. “Peacemaker. There’s no way they can destroy this ship.”

“Are you certain of that?” Genvass interjected. “Granted, it’s the most advanced ship in the galaxy, and it’s powerful. No argument. But there are a lot of ships out there, between the Alliance and the Troika, and if they threw them all at you? Swarmed you in a single massive strike?” He shook his head. “Even if they just threw vessels at you to soak up fire until you shot yourself dry, it’s possible they could do it. And don’t forget, the Troika has been studying Precursor technology for millennia. Most of it is still far beyond them, but they’ve learned a few tricks. It’s how they defeated the Yīqún the first time, after all. They even shut down Guardian once, as Samara can attest,” he finished, inclining his head in her direction.

“It’s true,” she agreed, this time with her own voice, “though it would be more accurate to say they disrupted communications between us. Guardian was still online. We just couldn’t talk to each other.”

“And without you as an active host, they had completely cut him off,” Genvass agreed. “They crippled him and left him helpless. It’s possible, even likely, that they have other methods at their disposal as well, other means by which they could damage or even destroy this ship.”

“And with Peacemaker off the table,” Samara pointed out, “we don’t have any other ships capable of facing the Troika. We’ll be stuck on New Terra, unable to show our faces, while they’ll have control over everything else.”

“Then we’ll build new ships!” Remi snapped, his glare now dark and dangerous. “Whole new fleets of ships, constructed with Precursor technology! Let’s see them try to stop us then.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Samara sighed. “You know as well as I do it will be years before we’re capable of that. Decades even, though some projections I’ve seen suggest it could be centuries before we understand enough of their technology to build even crude fighting ships. A lot could happen in a few hundred years, and you can bet the Troika won’t be sitting idle during that time.”

The Corsair looked away, clearly not happy with the conversation’s direction. Finally, he turned back to face them. “Then what do you suggest?” he asked, his expression sour, as if being forced to swallow a particularly bitter pill.

Samara looked to Genvass, who nodded his encouragement. “We suspend any further attacks until we sort this out,” she told him. “We find out what’s going on, what the Dàifu’s plans are, learn if the Troika are involved, while hopefully avoiding pissing off the Alliance any more than we already have.”

It took a long time for him to respond, time spent deliberating on the arguments he’d heard. When he finally decided it was plain he was less than thrilled about his choice.

“Fine,” he growled, “we’ll do it your way.”

“Thank you,” Genvass said quietly.

“I’m not doing it for you,” he snarled, before glancing back at Samara. “But I want something in return. When we’re done playing detective and figure out what the hell’s going on, assuming circumstances haven’t been radically altered in the process, we pick right back up where we left off, and we finish this.” He crossed his arms, glaring defiantly.

“You have my word,” Samara agreed. “If it turns out all this was for nothing, I’ll pilot the ship and fire on the Troika homeworlds myself.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Remi vowed, before turning his attention to Genvass. “As for you,” he said coldly, “don’t start thinking this is some sort of victory. It’s a pause, nothing more, while we get our bearings. That’s all.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” the ambassador answered. “If it helps ease tensions between the factions, then as far as I’m concerned, it is a victory. Even if it’s only temporary.”

Remi snorted and ignored him. “So, what’s our first move? Where do we begin digging?” he asked Samara.

“If we want to find answers, there’s only one place to start,” she began.

“... New Terra,” Genvass piped up, answering for her.