… who else could it be?

I know that’s what I said, and I still stand by it… mostly. The lack of any other ships in the area, the fact that no one, not even the Alliance, has the power necessary to hand such a resounding defeat to a Troika fleet, all point to an internal power struggle. Based on what I witnessed, it’s an open and shut case.

But once again that little voice in the back of my head was whispering to me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling I was missing something. What, I couldn’t say, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore that tug of intuition. It’s served me well in the past, saved my life more than once, and I’ve learned the hard way that I ignore it at my peril. Part of me wanted to double back and make a closer investigation of the derelict fleet, but I know Raven would absolutely balk, and with good reason. Going back was suicide.

See, here’s the thing. I hate mysteries. I know how that sounds, coming from someone like me, but hear me out. When you think about it, it makes perfect sense, because that hatred of questions left unanswered is what drives me to answer them. I’ll go to extremes to pin down those nagging little details that will break a case wide open, and if any of my missions showcase that, it’s this one. A pariah to my clan, wanted by both the Masters and the Brotherhood, time and again I’ve done the unthinkable, all because I had to know the truth.

Only despite my best efforts, I couldn’t come up with a single culprit other than the Troika that could do that kind of damage. All the facts fit. Yet somehow it just wasn’t sitting right with me. I can’t explain it. I didn’t share my feelings with my partner in crime; she has enough on her plate at the moment. And I still hadn’t figured a way out of our dilemma, keeping her safe yet allowing Raven her freedom.

Truth be told, I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that there wasn’t a solution.

In the meantime, we were still debating where to go. I was holding out to reconnect with Chris and try to patch things up, using the information I’d gleaned as a big fat bribe. I’m certain I could charm my way back into her good graces, but Raven had other ideas.

“… you want to go where?” I said in disbelief.

“With the Oivu,” she said primly. Although she was sitting directly across from me, making good eye contact, I couldn’t shake the sensation she was looking and talking right past me. “You’ve made it clear Terran space isn’t safe, and I sure as hell don’t want to end up anywhere near the Troika, so what else is there? Take my chances with the Baishain, or the Ak’haadda? If I can’t trust humans, I certainly can’t trust them.”

“And what makes you think you can trust the Oivu?” I demanded. “They’re merchants, in case it slipped your electronic mind, which means with them everything’s for sale. Including you, if you were naïve enough to trust them. They’d sell their own mothers if the price was right.” I paused for a moment, reconsidering. “Assuming they have mothers, that is. Jury’s still out on that one.”

“I have value,” she snapped, “and if anyone would understand that it’s them.” She folded her arms, glaring at me, and I could tell this was heating up to be another blowout.

“Yes, you have value,” I agreed, “but as far as the Oivu are concerned, only as merchandise. They don’t take passengers, and they don’t hire aliens, though occasionally they will subcontract them,” I clarified. “You think my suggestion is a prison? You go to the Oivu, and you’ll end up sold as a slave to the highest bidder.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Raven all but shouted. “What else is left for me?”

“I don’t know,” I said as calmly as I could manage, “not yet at least. You’ve got to give me a little more time to come up with something,” I pleaded, before taking a moment to switch gears. “Until then, we have more immediate concerns. They didn’t design this shuttle with long-distance flight in mind, which means pretty soon we’ll have to dock for fuel and maintenance.”

I highlighted the ship’s status report and bounced it over to her station. The computer had marked several systems in yellow, plus two in red. “We push it any further, and we’re liable to end up stranded a long way from nowhere,” I informed her.

Raven looked over the report and grimaced. “How bad is it?” she asked quietly.

“Not terrible, luckily the most severely affected systems aren’t critical. But the longer we wait, the worse it gets. That’s not a gamble I’m willing to make.” I swiped away the report and pulled up a map of the sector, displaying the nearest potential systems. “Any of these might work,” I told her, “but we need to decide soon.”

She peered at the screen, looking over our options. “What sort of criteria are we using here?”

“Whatever gets us in and out with a minimum of hassle,” I told her. “At the moment, that’s all I really care about. Well, that, and anonymity. I’d prefer to fly under the radar if we can.”

Raven nodded, then started paring down the list. “According to the charts, this one is pretty deep in the outback,” she commented, tapping one of the icons. “Not much in the way of amenities, and as small as they are we’d definitely be remembered. No,” she continued, blanking the system, “we want something big. Something busy enough that we’re just a number on a checklist, where we’ll be forgotten five minutes after we break orbit.”

“Hmmm,” I vocalized, tapping my chin. “I think you’re onto something here. Usually I avoid places like that, because higher volume usually means more red tape, more regulations, not to mention more government officials and law enforcement, but in this case…”

We both pored over the charts with renewed energy, now that we had a rough target in mind. It still took the better part of an hour, but in the end, we settled on the Dintrae’pans system. It was a few days’ journey from our current location, pushing the limits of what I considered safe given the Shuttle’s condition, but still an acceptable risk. It was controlled by the Tai-Okeeq and was a crossroads for commerce and transportation. Millions of metric tonnes passed through the port daily, making our shuttle look like a mere flyspeck in comparison. Although it was clearly of Tu’udh’hizh’ak manufacture, a port this size might see dozens of similar vessels, all going about their business. As long as we followed the rules… and managed to pass ourselves off as Masters’, of course... we could be in and out within a couple days.

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In the meantime, we had a few days to kill. Raven was restless, stalking the cybernetic passageways like a caged tiger. I sympathized, but what could I do? Other than avoid provoking her, that is. I stayed out of her way as best I could, focusing instead on getting us back safely to Terran space. I still didn’t have an answer to her dilemma; trying to find an alternative to the safety of a prison or the freedom of an exposed target was proving even more difficult than I’d imagined. There had to be a middle ground somewhere, but the harder I tried to find it, the more elusive it became.

And there was yet another question looming large in my mind; what were we to each other? Friends? Lovers? Soulmates? Sworn enemies? All the above? None of them? I wasn’t sure how I felt about her anymore, and as far as her feelings towards me were concerned, they seemed to vary from moment to moment. I still didn’t know what she was, and I suspect that was the reason for my confused feeling towards her. If she was still a machine, how could I think of her as anything else? And worse, what if she wasn’t? What then?

I sometimes think when the gods get bored, they throw random oddities into my life just to watch me squirm.

We arrived at Dintrae’pans without incident and were quickly ushered to the front of the line after convincing the proprietors we were Tu’udh’hizh’ak Masters’. Luckily, I could tap into one of my hidden slush funds to actually pay for all of it, suitably rerouted, of course, to avoid raising suspicion. I still had access to a few outside of Avatar Clan purview, ones even Chris didn’t know about.

Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. It’s the key to survival no matter where you go.

The maintenance was mostly routine and refueling took hardly any time at all. Turnaround time was less than two local days, slightly better than what I’d predicted. We paid the port for their time and services, then broke orbit and headed out into interstellar space while Raven and I disagreed yet again about our next move.

“I’m not going back with you to Terran space, and that’s final,” she barked, her hands on her hips as she glowered at me. “I thought I’d made that clear.”

“Look, I understand your concerns,” I told her, trying to be reasonable, “but I have to report in as soon as I can manage it. Chris must be told everything that we’ve learned, it’s too important to just sit on. Once that’s done, we can go somewhere else, but I have to do this. You understand that, right?” I asked her.

“Then choose a system,” she charged me, “somewhere safe and neutral. I’ll meet you there when you’re finished.”

“And get there how?” I demanded. “You don’t have a ship, and I’m not relinquishing this one until I report in.”

“The same way you did,” she countered, “I’ll hitch a ride.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not as easy as I make it look,” I told her, “there’s all sorts of variables you have to…”

“Easy? You got us captured twice!” she fired back. “Three times, if you count before and after the Eleexx mission separately. I don’t see how I could possibly do any worse.”

“Now wait just a minute,” I snarled, bristling at her words… when one of the inbound ships to the system exploded off our port bow.

Raven and I froze in horror. “What the hell did that?” she screeched, as I jumped into the virtual pilot’s seat and brought up sensors.

“I can’t tell!” I shouted as she belted herself in. “I’m getting massive interference across the board!” Increasing power to the sensors was only marginally effective, giving me little more in the way of data when a second vessel detonated, this one a Tai-Okeeq patrol frigate.

I’d already seen enough. Yanking the controls hard to starboard, I plotted an alternate course by eye and instinct alone, putting as much distance as possible from whatever was killing those ships.

More explosions, as other ships were destroyed. One of the smaller orbital platforms erupted into blinding light, like a miniature sun, as we shielded our eyes. The monitors compensated, but as the march of death through the ranks continued, I struggled with the sensors to learn something, anything, about the attackers. A handful of naval vessels were now racing forward, desperately searching for targets, but they must have been suffering from the same interference we were. They died just as easily as the civilian ships did… and then suddenly my theory of a Troika Civil War disappeared right out the airlock, as Elder Brother’s face appeared on the viewscreen.

“If you are seeing this, then it has begun,” he crowed, his eyes bright with madness. “I programmed the shuttle to trigger this message if certain conditions were met,” his ghost explained, “which means you must have the best view in the galaxy, of my revenge.”

“You bastard, what have you done?” I said in dismay, as the sensors finally locked onto an attacker. It was only a partial view, and the angle was bad, but the universe still seemed to freeze in place as we stared at the image with sickening dread.

“Is that…?” Raven whispered, pointing a shaky hand at the screen.

“Yes.” I struggled to get out, my throat suddenly sandpaper dry.

“... it’s a Yīqún.”

The ultimate Terran bête noire and boogeyman, ravagers and destroyers of our ancient home, brought back to life.

“The Eleexx thought themselves so clever,” the Chell sneered on the monitor, “subverting the Yīqún’s software and using it to guard their own. The insects believed they had tamed the beast, broken its spirit, when in fact the ancient wraiths were merely waiting… waiting to be made whole once more.”

“Oh my god,” Raven whimpered, “oh my god oh my god oh my god...”

“The Eleexx weapon did not destroy the monsters,” Elder Brother reminded us, “only left them unable to communicate. Scattered, alone, they were easy prey for the First Alliance, no longer the formidable hive mind that turned your worlds to ash,” he taunted us. “But the drones were still out there, among the stars, requiring only a few carefully edited instructions in order to live once more.” His smile grew wide as he spread his paws. “My gift to the galaxy.”

“You son of a bitch,” I told the image as it faded out, “this was your plan all along.” I almost had to admire its mad genius, the sheer gall it must have taken to pull it off right under the Troika’s very nose.

At least I might have, had I not been keenly aware of how many innocent lives the psychotic bastard had just condemned to death.

I firewalled the shuttle, putting as much distance as I could between us and the devastation in our wake. “As small as we are, maybe we can slip away,” I said, more in prayer than anything else.

Raven reached out and gripped my arm. “The Eleexx have a weapon, right?” she asked desperately. “One that will kill the Yīqún?”

I’d been thinking the same thing. The Eleexx weapon had saved the Perseus Arm from the invaders two centuries prior, though sadly, too late to save Earth. Surely, they still had them stockpiled somewhere?

But as I turned to face her, I realized the truth.

“He would have thought of that,” I told her. “To get this far, he wouldn’t have been satisfied with just hurting a few systems, until we defeated them a second time. No, he wanted his revenge to be total. He wanted everyone to suffer.”

“What’s that mean?” Raven wailed.

I took a deep breath. “Somehow… he made them immune.”