The pair raced for the airlock, with Genvass muttering, “Come on, come on,” while the system cycled. Back inside Saracen, they made a beeline for the bridge, taking Captain Taneka and the rest of the crew by surprise on their arrival.
“Did you see…?” the captain began, pointing at the monitor, only for the ambassador to gesture frantically.
“Captain, we need to get this ship moving immediately,” he ordered.
The Corsair stared at him. “And go where?” she inquired.
“New Terra,” Genvass clarified, “specifically, Athena’s platform. As quickly as possible.”
Taneka grimaced. “Forget it,” she scowled, “not with the fucking Yīqún coming for us.”
He moved forward, invading her space as he gripped the armrests of her chair. “Captain, Athena is the only one who can stop this. I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say the lives of everyone in the Perseus Arm depend on what happens in the next few minutes. So either get this ship moving, or disembark, and I’ll find someone else to fly this ship.” He glared at her, daring her to argue the point.
“It’s a suicide mission,” she fired back. “The whole Terran fleet, including the drones, is between us and that platform. We wouldn’t get anywhere near it before they destroyed the ship.”
“Maybe so,” he allowed, “but we still have to try.”
“... I’ll do it.”
They both turned and stared. “If you’re serious about doing this, you’re going to need my help,” Samara informed them. “Erhair Dresh can fly this thing better than anyone, and you know it.” She gave the Corsair a smug look.
“I don’t care how good that Precursor is, there’s no way in hell he can get us past a swarm of Yīqún,” Taneka snapped. “Not in one piece, anyway.”
“Captain,” Genvass said firmly, “we’re doing this. We have to. If you choose not to be a part of it, then you better hurry before we detach.”
Taneka gawked at them for a moment, before shaking her head in sardonic sufferance. “I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction,” she snapped, her attention focused like a laser on Samara.
“Then get this ship moving,” the ambassador repeated, “and get me the Paygan on the horn.”
Rúna found a spare seat and buckled in, while Taneka brought up comms. A moment later, the Ixian commander was staring back at him from the monitor.
“We’re detaching now,” Genvass informed him. “I realize this is a long shot, but we’ll do what we can.”
“Good luck, Ambassador,” the Paygan replied. “We will attempt to shield you for as long as possible, but I can make you no guarantees.”
“Neither can I,” he admitted, “but thank you for the effort.” He was ready to end the connection when a trio of faces suddenly appeared on the screen.
“Ambassador, before you depart, we request permission to transfer over to Ataraxia,” Alphad petitioned, while Raven and Ess Peon looked on. “We helped the Alliance fight the Yīqún in the last battle, and there’s a good chance we can do it again.”
Genvass blinked in surprise and then turned to the Ixian commander. “Paygan?” he inquired. “It’s your call.”
“Permission granted,” he answered gravely. “Your assistance would be most welcome.”
“I pray you can make a difference,” he told the Avatars. “Good luck, and good hunting.”
“You as well, Ambassador,” Alphad answered, before the trio disappeared from the screen.
Samara… or more accurately, Erhair Dresh… had already slid into the pilot’s seat, displacing a grievously offended Taneka. Remi merely looked on with an arcane expression, as Saracen disconnected from the Ixian ship. “I am plotting a course to avoid the bulk of the enemy fleet,” the cognate explained, “but be advised their vessels are considerably faster and more maneuverable than this vessel. The odds of reaching our objective intact are vanishingly small.”
“Do the best you can,” Genvass told the Precursor. He was their best pilot by far, which meant his concerns were distressing to hear, though not unexpected. Theirs was a weak hand to gamble with, but it was the one fate had dealt them. What other choice was there?
The engines roared to life, as Saracen made what would likely be its final run.
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Upon their arrival aboard Ataraxia, Alphad and the others immediately went to work. Prepping the Grand Alliance fleet to fight the Yīqún required making changes to both their hardware and software, which posed an immediate problem. The software was easy enough since both Alphad and Raven had maintained copies within their own programs, but the hardware was a greater challenge. During the Battle of New Terra, they’d had barely enough time to retrofit the non-Terran ships, thankfully, it was a relatively simple piece of engineering. Many of the vessels had kept the equipment in place, despite the Yīqún’s disappearance, due to the common standing policy of never discarding military ordnance without having an upgrade ready to install. Of the ships which had removed the apparatus, many of those craft had the components mothballed and safely tucked away in stores, in case they were ever needed. The remaining ships, however, were forced to cobble something together from scratch.
But that would take time, and time was in very short supply.
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As Saracen sprinted away from the Grand Alliance fleet, it grew increasingly obvious their plan to make for Athena’s platform ahead of the Terran force was perhaps overly optimistic. As freighters went, she was faster than most, but then they weren’t going up against freighters. Ignoring Peacemaker and the Yīqún-clones for the moment, even the slowest vessel of the enemy armada would have no difficulty in intercepting them at their current velocity. The Corsairs of the group recognized the problem immediately, but it was Samara’s cognate who spoke up first.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“I regret to inform you that your plan is doomed to fail,” Erhair Dresh informed them. “Given our current speed and trajectory, the Terran vessels will soon recognize our likely destination and arrive in time to prevent us from docking with the station.”
“Well, that sounds bloody familiar,” Remi grimaced, before hitting the intercom. “Mairead? Remember the first time we visited Athena? I need you to do it again.”
Her answer came back almost immediately.
“Forget it, Captain,” she snapped. “The only reason I managed that kind of velocity last time was because we were flying a Troika shuttle. The engines were state-of-the-art and in perfect condition. If I try pulling that stunt in this tub, I’ll blow us up for sure.”
Her response was distressing to hear, but not wholly unexpected. In desperation, he turned to Taneka. “I don’t suppose your engineer could do better,” he said hopefully.
“I doubt it,” she answered. “Avram’s good, but what you’re looking for is a miracle.”
Even as the words escaped her lips, all eyes turned to Samara. “Could you do it?” Remi asked softly.
There was a pause as the Protean shifted gears, or more accurately, cognates. “Maybe,” Samara allowed with her own voice. “Mashad Dillosh, my go-to guy for engineering-related stuff, is telling me he won’t know for sure until he takes a look, but thinks he can boost performance by at least fifty percent.”
“I think we can spare you as a pilot,” Taneka told her. “Between me and Remi, we’ve got that covered.”
Samara looked back at Genvass for confirmation. “Go,” he urged her. “Something tells me that before this day is out, we’ll be needing more than our fair share of miracles.”
She nodded and surrendered her seat before heading aft, while Remi and Taneka took over the helm. “Do you think she can do it?” the ambassador asked them.
“If she can’t manage it with all her Precursor buddies, then no one can,” Remi replied. He spent a few moments updating the plot, and frowned. “But from what I’m seeing here, we still have a problem. If this Mashad is right and he can boost performance like he said, when we cut speed in order to dock with the platform, they’ll catch up to us then.”
“Well, how do we get around that?” Genvass inquired.
“We can’t,” Taneka spat out. “If we try to maintain velocity and then brake hard at the last possible minute, there’s a damn good chance we’ll crash into the platform instead of docking with it. Assuming for a moment that Athena doesn’t see that as some sort of kamikaze maneuver, and blasts us out of the sky.”
Frantically, he turned to Rúna. “Tell me you know of a way,” he begged her.
The Valkyrie just shook her head. “I’m not a Corsair,” she reminded him, “and if they say it can’t be done, then I’m inclined to believe them. Seriously, what are you expecting here? You want to just jump out…?”
Rúna suddenly froze, as her eyes grew wide, before shaking her head even more vigorously than before. “What?” Genvass demanded. “I know that look. You’ve got an idea, don’t you?”
“Forget it,” she fired back, “it’s too crazy. Even by our standards.”
“Rúna,” he said adamantly, “if we don’t figure out a way to contact Athena and stop this madness, you know what will happen. The Dàifu and her ilk will use Peacemaker and their new Yīqún fleet to conquer the galaxy… at least until the drones turn on us. Which they will, just like they turned on our ancestors. So I don’t care how insane your idea is. We have to try. Too many lives are counting on us not to.”
She bowed her head and closed her eyes. “You realize it’ll likely mean our deaths,” she said quietly.
Despite himself, Genass let out a mirthless chuckle. “We’ve been living on borrowed time since this mission began,” he reminded her. “Besides, I have to believe there are some things worth dying for… and if saving the galaxy from genocide and tyranny isn’t one of them, then I don’t know what is.”
The Valkyrie sighed and slowly opened her eyes. “Let me know if you still feel the same way after I tell you my idea,” she snorted.
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“... this is crazy,” Genvass protested.
“Told you,” Rúna grinned. Ever since she’d agreed to the madcap scheme, she’d grown more devil-may-care than usual.
Mairead and Avram, their resident Tinkers, were busy scavenging the necessary equipment while frantically constructing Rúna’s brainchild. Her description of the gear required for the mission had been rather vague, not being a Tinker herself, but luckily the pair worked out the rest for themselves.
“Do you think this will actually work?” he queried, dubiously eyeing what the engineers were constructing.
“Honestly?” She paused for a moment, giving him a solemn look. “I figure there’s about a ten percent chance we’ll survive this. Maybe less.”
Genvass stared back at her with horror. “Look, there’s no reason you need to be a part of it,” she continued. “Just say the word, and I’ll do it solo.”
He sighed unhappily. “As much as I respect your many skills, Rúna, diplomacy isn’t one of them. I have to go, no matter how much it terrifies me.”
“No argument there,” the Valkyrie shrugged. “I’ve been told I have all the tact of a shotgun blast.”
The ambassador started to respond, only to be interrupted by the intercom. “Genvass, could you and Rúna report to Engineering?” Samara said in her own voice. “Mairead briefed me on your plan. I might be able to help.”
The pair shared a surprised look. “We’re on our way,” Genvass informed her, as they made their way aft to join her.
Arriving in Engineering less than a minute later, Samara looked up from a console she was monitoring. “Your idea isn’t as crazy as it might seem,” she informed them, “but as it stands, you’ll never survive the attempt.”
Rúna folded her arms across her chest. “Let me guess… you’ve got a plan on how to improve our odds.”
“Well, not me,” the Protean answered, “but after talking it over with Guardian, it seems he has a cognate on tap who has some relevant experience. We’ve been discussing it, and he has some interesting suggestions.”
“Which cognate is this?” Genvass inquired. “The engineer, the pilot, or the warrior?”
“None of the above,” Samara informed him. “It’s one I haven’t interacted with before, goes by the name Yonaat Galu. Seems he used to do this sort of thing on a regular basis.”
Rúna just stared at her. “Why?” she blurted out.
There was a brief pause, while Samara communed with the aforementioned Precursor, before breaking out in chuckles. “Apparently, he did it just for fun.”
“And here I thought us Terrans had the market cornered with psychotic behavior,” the Valkyrie answered, shaking her head. “I’m not sure we should take advice from someone with a freaking death wish.” She eyed Samara with suspicion. “Is that how he ended up in the box in the first place?”
“It would seem that thrill-seeking is something we come by naturally, as a species,” Genvass observed.
“It’s not as crazy as it sounds,” the Protean contended. “He used specialized equipment that made it safe. Well, safer, at least,” she admitted.
“Uh-huh,” Rúna said sarcastically. “And do we have said equipment at our disposal?”
“Not exactly,” Samara allowed, “though he’s confident we can reproduce most of it in time for the mission.”
“What sort of odds is he giving us if we follow his instructions?” Genvass asked her.
Another pause, as she checked in with the Precursor adrenaline junkie. “About forty percent, give or take,” she said after a moment.
He turned to his companion. “That’s a better handicap than what you gave me,” he pointed out.
“Fine,” she said in exasperation, “I withdraw my objection.” She looked suspiciously at Samara. “Will you be passing on the specifications to the Tinkers?”
“Not exactly,” she said cryptically, before hitting the intercom button. “Mairead, Avram? Please report to Engineering,” she announced, before returning her attention to the individuals standing before her. “In order for this to work, I have to come with you.”
“Forget it,” Rúna snapped. “You’re a loose fucking cannon, and I don’t need your brand of murderous insanity on this mission.”
“If I don’t go,” Samara countered, “I’m afraid the chance of success drops rather significantly.”
The two women stared hard at one another before Genvass finally stepped between them. “Ladies, please,” he admonished them. “This is not the time for bickering. I know you have issues with one another, but right now, we need to work together. This mission is too important, and too much is at stake.” He gave both of them a stern look as they begrudgingly reeled it back in.
“Then let’s get started.”